#ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: talk to me while i rub the same spot over and over…on the bar table! (kole’s asks answered)

[haveanotherfandomblog]

Avengers Preferences

How You Meet

Masterlist

Captain America/Steve Rogers-

Working for the infamous Nick Fury was a hard job as it was. Now working for him as and being his goddaughter was a whole other level of difficult. Behind closed doors, he was gentler and loving in his own, unique way. However, in public, it was strictly professional. You didn’t receive any special treatment and were held to the same standard as every other agent. You didn’t mind, it was how it was and you were understanding.

Fury had been proud and excited when you decided to become a SHIELD agent. As you quickly rose through the ranks, you began working closely with Phil Coulson and Maria Hill. You also worked closely with Hawkeye and Black Widow. In fact, they were the ones who recommended you for the Avengers Initiative. Fury protested at first because of Tony Stark, but with some help from Hill and Coulson, he relented.

To welcome you and bring some positive light to himself, Tony Stark threw one of his legendary parties. Opting for a more modest look, especially considering your godfather was there, you wore a dress that stopped at your knees and some comfortable flats. You kept your makeup minimal and natural as well. After you were satisfied with your appearance, you made your way to the party.

The party was indeed just as grand and lavish as everything Tony Stark did. People mingled about, barely acknowledging you despite the party being in your honor. You didn’t really care though. You knew they were just here for the free booze. You pushed your way to the bar where you saw Natasha and Maria talking.

“Ladies,” you greeted. They smiled and waved you over, handing you a glass full of sparkling liquid.

“Hey, you look cute,” Maria said. You smiled, tilting your head.

“Well, it was this or sweats,” you jested. Natasha let out a snort, smirking behind her glass.

"Ah! Here she comes. The woman of the hour," Clint announced. You playfully rolled your eyes.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” Clint announced as he made his way to you. You playfully rolled your eyes. He waved over two figures. “Y/N, meet Dr. Banner and Thor.” Dr. Banner was a small man with glasses who looked completely uncomfortable. His hair was a curly mess as he rubbed his hands together, eyes darting in every direction. Thor seemed more at ease in this environment. He gave you a big smile, grasping your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice booming over the loud music and other party-goers. He was a giant compared to everyone with long, blonde hair.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you replied. The six of you engaged in small talk, well, more like you Maria. Natasha and Dr. Banner had some weird, and slightly awkward flirting thing going on between them that you wanted absolutely nothing a part of. And Clint and Thor were trying to outdrink each other. Though from the look of it, Thor was winning easily.

After a while, Phil came up to congratulate you. He nodded towards the other side of the room where you spotted Fury talking to America’s own golden boy, Captain America. Though they appeared deep in conversation, Fury waved you over. Phil gave you a pat on the back as he replaced your spot next to Maria.

“L/N. I want you to meet your new leader, Captain Rogers. Rogers, this is your newest recruit, Agent Y/N L/N.” You nodded your head, sticking your hand out. He grasped your hand, shaking it firmly. His hands were surprisingly soft--just like his baby blue eyes. He gave you a boyish grin, causing you to smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Agent L/N,” he told you.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Captain Rogers,” you replied. He gave you a boyish grin, scratching behind his ear.

"Please, call me Steve."

"Y/N."

Iron Man/Tony Stark-

Most people spent their Friday nights at the bars, getting wasted with friends and hitting on strangers. Not you though, you worked well into the night. You were at the bar too, but you were behind the counter, watching as everyone made fools of themselves. Though, you didn’t usually work on Friday nights, but your coworker had convinced you to cover their shift, a stupid decision on your part. While the amount of money you would make would be amazing, having hundreds of people scream for your attention wasn’t.

This Friday night was no different than any other. Loud, drunk adults slurred their orders to you as they attempted to flirt with each other. The night seemed to drag on as you continued to make drinks and throw away napkins with scribbled numbers on them. And as the night progressed, and the crowd around the bar slowly but surely diminished, you were able to relax somewhat. You were just about done with creeps staring at your tits.

You were cleaning a glass when someone called for you. You set the glass down and turned around, throwing the rag over your shoulder. If you weren’t so tired, you probably would have choked on air when you saw Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and freaking Iron Man sitting at your bar. You walked over to him, resting your forearms on the bar.

“What’s your poison, sweetcheeks?” you asked. He licked his lips, peering over the rim of his glasses at you. You quirked a brow, staring at him expectantly.

“I’ll have your best whiskey--neat.” You nodded, turning to pour him his desired drink. Despite his television persona, the man at least had taste. You handed him his drink, watching as he took a long sip. He nodded his head approvingly. “This is perfect. You know, I could give you my best later. Though I can’t promise it’ll be neat,” he said with a wink. You let out a snort, shaking your head.

“Sorry sweetcheeks, but you’re gonna have to do better than that. I thought you were a playboy?” you teased. He chuckled, shooting you a wink. You didn’t see him much after that, he seemed to have disappeared from the bar, probably in the arms of some hot, blonde, model. You shook your head, continuing to clean the counter. Guys like him didn’t go for girls like you. Not seriously.

Your shift finally ended when the bar closed around two o’clock. Relief flooded your body as you collected your tips and clocked out. You bade your coworker a good night and began your trek home. While you were walking under the streetlights, your skin began crawling. You looked around but couldn’t see anyone around you. Quickening your pace, you marched on, your purse clutched in your hand.

You were almost to the front stoop of your apartment when a pair of arms wrapped around your body, yanking you into a dark alley. One of the hands covered your mouth while the other was wrapped securely around your arms and body.

“Hey baby. Wanna have some fun?” slurred a voice. You rolled your eyes despite the danger you were in. You struggled to break his grip on you, but he was a lot stronger than he appeared. “Calm down baby, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His breath reeked of alcohol, making you want to gag.

“Maybe not, but if you don’t let her go, I’m going to hurt you.” The drunk let go of you and scampered away. You fell back against the nearby wall, taking deep breaths.

“Thank you, so much,” you said, turning your head. You certainly weren’t expecting to see Iron Man standing on the sidewalk outside the alley way. His face lifted up, revealing Tony Stark beneath the mask.

“So… about my previous offer.” You shot him a harsh glare. He held his hands up, taking a step back. “Kidding, although, I should at least get your number. You know, in case you need me to save you again.” You rolled your eyes but pulled your lipstick out of your bag anyway, writing your number on the arm of his suit.

Hulk/Dr. Bruce Banner-

After the New York incident, your brother, Clint Barton, had been very adamant about you moving in with him. Well, he actually wanted you to move in with Laura, but you refused to live on a farm. Tasha and your brother had helped you move from your tiny apartment to your room at the compound, located conveniently next to Clint’s.

Tony came to help as well. As well as to see one of his favorite college buddies. Oh yes, you, him and Rhodey had all gone to college together, though you were a few years younger than them. He’d been more than happy to hear you’d be moving into the tower.

Once everything had been unpacked and put into its place and you were settled, Clint took you up to meet the rest of your housemates. They were all waiting around in a lounge room with Tony, naturally, in the center of the crowd, talking animatedly about himself.

“Mini Me!” he cried when he saw you. He dramatically sauntered over to you, wrapping you in a hug. Your brother, usually not fond of men near you, had no problem with Tony. You returned his hug. “A pleasure to have you finally join us.” You chuckled, detangling yourself from him. Clint wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the rest of the Avengers.

“Guys, this is my sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is Steve Rogers, Thor, and Dr. Bruce Banner.”

“It’s great to finally meet you all,” you told them, flashing them your dazzling smile. “Clint has told me so much about you guys.” Thor was the first to approach you, pressing a quick kiss to the back of your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Y/N.” You let out a giggle, covering your cheek.

“Oh, I like you.” He flashed you a bright smile which you happily returned. Steve said hello, offering you a simple handshake. Bruce was more timid, giving you a curt nod and a small wave. You found his semi-flustered state cute, and it kind of melted your heart.

“So, uh, what’s the story behind Tony’s nickname for you?” Steve inquired. Before you could reply, Tony was wrapping his arm around your shoulders, answering for you.

“Well you see, Capsical, this marvelous, young woman here is party central. You guys thought I was crazy--this girl--this girl is crazier. Her knowledge of alcohol is unbelievable and her ability to attract the male gaze is unbeatable.” Clint glared at that last part, rolling his eyes. You brushed Tony’s arm off, crossing your arms over your chest.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I did get two degrees in art and design and biochemical engineering.” The rest of the Avengers let out ooh’s at Tony. He threw his hands up in defense, bowing his head down. Clint brought his hands to your shoulders, shaking you slightly. You glanced over to Bruce, watching as he quickly averted his gaze from you, finding the ceiling far more fascinating.

Hawkeye/Clint Barton-

Being handed the wrapped flag was never something you thought would actually happen to you. The soldiers had been very helpful, offering to drive you to where you needed to go. You could only really go to one place. You’d just lost the only family you had left. You gave the soldiers the address and sat in the back of the car, staring out the window.

They asked for confirmation about the address when they pulled up to the Avenger’s Tower. You simply thanked them for their time and stepped out of their car. You held the flag close to your chest as you walked past agents and tower workers and went straight to the elevator. Tears welled in your eyes as the doors closed behind you.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” you called, your voice cracking. “Take me to the floor Tony’s on.” You really hoped he was in the room or in his lab.

"Right away Ms. L/N," the AI replied. You stood in the elevator, tears threatening to spill as you waited for the elevator to open. You rushed out when the elevator doors opened but stopped short when you saw Tony surrounded by the Avengers.

Once they did, you froze in your place. Tony had been your friend since college. You knew that you could always depend on him to be there for you, especially now. The other Avengers who surrounded him however, you were less than certain about. You contemplated leaving when F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in.

“Sir, Y/N L/N is here to see you.” He turned his head with a smile, opening his arms. His eyes traveled to the flag in your arms and his face fell.

“Oh… Y/N.” You lip quivered as you cast your eyes down, tears blurring your vision. You heard footsteps approaching you and a pair of arms wrapping around you. “Y/N.” Tony stroked your head as your body began shaking.

"They're--they're gone," you choked out.

"Who's gone?" the other guy inquired. You tried answering, but all that came out were choked sobs. "Hey, Y/N, I'm going to need you to breathe. Inhale. Hold. Exhale." After repeating the exercises a few times, your breathing was steady.

"Y/N, what happened?" Tony asked again.

"S/N was killed in combat," you said, fresh tears welling up in your eyes. "I just lost my whole family." You began hiccupping violently, making it hard to breathe.

"Clint, take her to my room. I'll be there shortly," Tony ordered. Clint led you to Tony's penthouse suite. He sat you on the bed, rubbing your shoulder.

"Thank you." You attempted to give him a weak smile.

"Feel better. I'm sorry for your loss," he told you, returning your smile with a soft one.

Thor Odinson-

Being one of SHIELD’s top agents came with both perks and nuances. Perks included always being in the loop of every underground operation, including the fact that Phil Coulson faked his death. Nuances included being hyper-aware of everyone around you at any given time, friends and foes alike.

Tony Stark inviting you to a party, well, all of SHIELD, was inviting paranoia. Your coworkers assured you that you were just in work mode, and this would help you relax. To appease them, you begrudgingly agreed to go.

You didn’t dress up, opting for a casual look to help you blend in. You made sure you were armed before finding a seat at the bar. Natasha was playing bartender, her eyes seeing everything all at once.

“Don’t have too much fun there,” she said, gesturing down to your cup of barely touched water. You lifted your brows quickly, looking back at the other SHIELD agents partying their hearts out.

“No promises.” She let out a snort, moving to mix another cocktail.

The hairs on the back of your neck began to stand up. You let your highly trained eyes scan the room, but you didn’t see anything. Then a thought hit you. You glanced up, searching the ceiling until you found a pair of eyes looking down at you from the vents. They shot you a wink before disappearing. Your eyes narrowed until you heard a cough behind you.

You turned to find the Prince of Asgard behind you, dressed more casually than you’d see him before. You raised a brow, looking him up and down.

“Good evening my lady. I am looking for our mutual friend Barton. Do you know where I can find him?” You glanced back towards the vent, waiting for the Prince to follow your gaze.

“Sorry, your Highness. Can’t say I’ve seen him,” you told him. He turned and found you staring at the vent. He gave you a big grin, bowing his head.

“A shame. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.”

“Not at all.”

“If that’s the case, I’d love a dance.” You turned back to Nat who was motioning for you to go. You bit your tongue, looking around the room.

“How can I--” You trailed off. From the corner of your eye, you spotted another coworker sitting at the other end of the bar. Her eyes kept flickering between her drink and the jacket that covered some guy’s arm from the elbow down. “Hold that thought.”

You set your untouched water down, moving down the bar. Nat followed you, keeping an eye on you. You carefully took out one of your concealed knives, pressing it to the guy’s back. He tensed immediately, allowing for your coworker to slip away.

Unfortunately he wasn’t the only undercover spy. A mass shoot-out took place, bullets whizzed by, glass shattered, and bodies hit the floor. Thankfully, most SHIELD agents survived unharmed.

You watched as Maria, Clint, and Nat hauled the last of the spies out of the party, handcuffs on their wrists. Thor approached you as you finished giving your statement, holding tightly onto Mjölnir. He opened his mouth to say something, but Clint called for you, waving you towards one of the SUVs.

“Raincheck on that dance?” you called back, jogging towards the van. Thor bowed his head, lifting Mjölnir briefly. You shot him a wink, sliding into the car before it took off.

Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff-

Drinking was not something you did very often. Drinking alone was something you only did within the comfort and safety of your own apartment. So why were you sitting alone at a bar on a Friday night? Well, your boyfriend had a terrible accident. He tripped and fell into your manager’s bed.

“Well hello there.” You tipped back another shot, setting the cup back down onto the bar. You turned slowly in your seat to stare at the blurry man now seated next to you. Raising a brow, you moved to rest your head in your hand. “Hey Sweetheart. I hate to bother you, but I could really use your number?” the stranger asked.

“I think you could use a better line,” you slurred, rolling your eyes. You turned back to face the bar, staring down at your empty shot glass. From your other side you heard someone laughing. Glancing over, you could only make out another blurry man with almost white hair. “Can I help you?”

“Do you know who you just turned down?” he asked with a thick, foreign accent. You shook your head, immediately regretting it. You held your hand to your head, willing your brain to stop moving around. “That was Tony Stark.” You scoffed.

“Then I’m glad I turned him down,” you said. The blonde man smirked, you thought. He was slowly coming into focus, and he was actually kind of cute. Kind of. Poor lighting and tequila made everyone look good.

“You’re funny. And cute. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked. You shrugged.

“Men suck. Left me for his stupid manager. She’s not even pretty,” you said, face heating up with anger and alcohol. The man winced.

“Yeah, men do suck. I’m Pietro by the way.”

"Y/N."

“Y/N,” he repeated. The way your name sounded with his accent almost had you swooning… almost. “You should head home. You’re wasted, and I’d hate for someone to take advantage of you.”

“And you’ve been doing what, exactly?” you challenged. He grinned, looking down at his hands which had somehow gotten ahold of your phone.

“Distracting you so you can sober up a bit before the cab I called arrives.” He handed your phone back to you. “I’ll have one of the bartenders escort you. When you’re sober, give me a call.”

Spiderman/Peter Parker-

Switching schools was never something you liked. Always being the new kid and having to recreate a social life was always hard and frustrating. Trying to be the lone wolf never worked in your favor either. Your bubbly and friendly personality didn’t let you fade into the shadows. Then when you inevitably moved, it was always full of tears.

Your latest move wasn’t any different. Your family had relocated to New York City for your father’s business. Once again you were in a new school, surrounded by people you didn’t know. While their faces blurred together, yours stuck out. Tingles ran up your spine as you avoided everyone’s curious gazes. You glanced down at the paper containing your schedule and locker number and combination.

You found it easy enough, but when you entered the combination it refused to budge. You double checked the combination before carefully putting it in.

“Son of a bitch,” you mumbled, shaking the lock. You dropped the lock, resting your head against the cold metal door.

“Need some help with that?” A tall girl with glasses and frizzy hair pulled into a lazy ponytail stood a little ways down. She was standing in front of, presumably, her own locker, a tower of books balanced in her arm.

“That’d be great, thanks,” you said. You stood up straight, pulling your mouth into a thin line.

“These things suck,” she told you. She slammed her own locker shut. She jiggled your lock before hitting the door with her elbow. It swung open with complete ease.

“Thank you.” You bowed your head slightly.

“No problem. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Uh, no. I’m new. My name’s Y/N. Y/N L/N.” You stuck your hand out, a smile on your face.

“Hey, I’m--”

“MJ!”

You turned around to find two boys coming down the hallway, waving their hands excitedly. One boy had tan skin and dark hair that was neatly combed, while the other was pale with light brown hair and wore a dorky sweater.

“MJ! We’ve been looking for you,” the first guy said, almost ignoring you.

“I was just helping out Y/N here,” she said. “Y/N this is Ned and Peter-- a couple of losers.”

“Um, hi.” You gave the boys an awkward wave as the bell rang loudly. “I’ll see you guys around. Thanks for opening my locker.” You gave the three of them a tight-lipped smile before hurrying down the hall.

Falcon/Captain America/Sam Wilson-

When you had returned from Iraq, you were so happy to be home. Your family had thrown a small get-together to celebrate your safe return. Everyone was so proud of you for serving your country. Your parents had offered to let you stay with them until you found yourself a job and an apartment. With a good record, and an honorable discharge, it shouldn’t have been hard.

It was two months before you landed a job as a receptionist at the V. A. Center in D.C. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but you made decent money. However, living in D.C. was expensive. Finding a place seemed almost impossible, even with a job. Luckily your parents were extremely understanding.

After about three months at the V. A., you had your job down pretty well. Most of the time you were answering calls from local and nationwide veterans. Most were nice, inquiring about certain medical options and wanting help through the transition back into normal society. Some veterans weren’t as friendly and called to complain about how the government treated them or simply to yell.

You had finished another call and were logging it when someone cleared their throat. You tapped on the board that was in front of you. You listened as the pen scratched across the paper for the visitor. Once you finished your log you glanced up.

A tall, dark, and handsome stranger stood in front of your desk, a half-smile on his face. You smiled back, bringing your full attention to him.

“Welcome to the V. A. Center, how can I help you?” you asked, raising your brow a bit.

“I’m Sam Wilson. I have an interview in about twenty-minutes,” he told you. You nodded, sliding down a bit to the other phone. You picked it up, dialing the three numbers to your boss’ office.

“One moment.” You slid down to your other phone, dialing the three numbers for your boss’ office. “Sir, you have a Sam Wilson here to see you,” you informed him. “Yes sir.” You slid back down to Sam Wilson, a smile on your face. “He’ll be with you shortly. He’s finishing up a meeting.

He nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs. He leant back, arm thrown over the back of the chair as he stared down the hall, resting his ankle on his knee. You tried your best not to stare, but not staring was never a strong suit of yours, and boy did Sam Wilson give you plenty to stare at.

“Which branch did you serve for, Mr. Wilson?” you inquired, pretending to type on the computer as if you hadn’t spent the last five minutes staring at him.

“Just Sam is fine,” he said with a chuckle. “And I served in the army.”

“Army,” he replied. You nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Interesting. So when they did the Men of the Army calendar, was it just twelve months of you?” You watched as your words went through his head before he let out a chuckle. “What? Didn’t like it?” You shot him a wink, a smirk on your face.

“I like it quite a lot, actually… what’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes-

It took years and years of studying and hard work, but becoming the leading psychiatrist in dealing and helping soldiers with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSS), formerly PTSD. You never experienced it personally, but you had neighbors and friends who suffered from it growing up. You wanted to do something helpful in the world, something good, so you dedicated your life to finding ways to work through what others had experienced. Your reputation began to precede you, and that was how you were flown across the world to help one of the worst cases you’d ever seen.

The patient was a Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. He served in World War II where he was presumed KIA, Killed In Action. That was until about four years ago when he resurfaced as an assassin for an organization that was almost gone. The more you read, the wilder his story seemed to get. Reading his file, which was quite extensive, covered almost the entire flight to Wakanda.

King T’Challa stood ready to greet you when your plane landed. You bowed your head respectively, taking in the empty fields that surrounded you. He shook your hand firmly, offering you a warm smile.

“Welcome to Wakanda Dr. L/N,” he greeted.

“Thank you for having me, Your Majesty,” you said. “You have beautiful, open lands.”

“You’re much too kind. If you would follow me this way.” He held his hand out and began guiding you across one of the fields. Birds chirped above you as you made your trek over the verdant hills.

Just over the last hill was a single hut. Goats roamed around freely, munching on grass and bleating. King T’Challa gestured to the hut, staring at it solemnly.

“White Wolf lives there. He lives happily in solitude, but human interaction is important. The world says you are the best in your field. Please, help him,” the King said. You nodded your head.

“Nothing is guaranteed,” you reminded him. “My methods aren’t a one-hundred percent success, but I will do my best.”

“That is all we ask.”

You nodded one more time before resuming your walk to the small hut, this time alone. The goats were curious about you, pausing their lunch to stare at you. One particularly small one ran to you, nudging its head against your leg.

“Steve, be nice.”

A new voice caught your attention. His hair was longer and his beard was fuller, but you recognized the man as Sergeant Barnes. He stood in the doorway of the hut, staring down at the tiny goat that was now nibbling at the bottom of your pants. He wore white, traditional, Wakanda clothing. A white bandage covered the stub where his arm once was. He would have seemed peaceful were it not for the dark, solemn gaze in his eyes.

“Sergeant Barnes?” you called, bending down to pick up the goat. He looked up at you. “Sergeant Barnes my name is Dr. Y/N L/N. King T’Challa asked me to help you transition back into civilian society.” He nodded his head slowly. The goat, Steve, nestled into your chest, nibbling your shirt. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Of course,” he said, moving aside so you could enter his hut. Setting the goat down, you stepped inside the small hut. It was bare for the most part, only the necessities were present. You took a seat on a nearby chair, watching him carefully. He took a seat across from you, awkwardly shifting in his seat.

“Sergeant Barnes, I would like to preface this by saying I am here to help you, and if what we do isn’t helping, it’s okay to say that,” you said.

“Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name… it’s Bucky.” You smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Y/N.”

Loki Odinson-

Rehabilitation, patience, and forgiveness were some of your core beliefs. You also believed that good was in everyone, no matter what bad deeds they did, no matter how lost they seemed, with the right guidance and a voice of encouragement, you truly believed that anyone could redeem themselves. Because of this firm belief, you started a rehabilitation center in your kingdom which grew into the biggest and most successful rehabilitation center in the world.

Being the princess of a small country was hard, but this success gave your country exactly what it needed--money. Which sounded worse than it actually was. The world runs on money and your people weren’t exactly millionaires, but being paid to rehabilitate both petty and hardened criminals was surprisingly a great way to make money.

So much so that King T’Challa of Wakanda, an old childhood friend of yours, asked a favor from an American acquaintance of his. Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries and Avenger, had been asked by his fellow Avenger, Thor, to seek a place for his trickster brother. You had heard all about New York in the news, but you never expected that to have an effect on your country. You weren’t so sure until Thor offered to pay in pure gold. That, you simply couldn’t refuse.

You stood on the runway, watching as the plane carrying your latest case began to touch down. The wind whipped your hair around your face, but your sunglasses protected your eyes. The wind settled once the plane came to a stop. The door opened and the first to exit was King T’Challa.

“Your Majesty,” you called. He smiled at you as he descended the stairs.

“Your Highness,” he greeted. He jogged over to you, skipping all formalities to give you a heartfelt hug. “It has been too long, old friend.”

“Much too long,” you agreed. A posse of people had followed him. Guards from Wakanda, Tony Stark, Thor, and his brother, Loki.

“Princess Y/N, this is my American acquaintance, Tony Stark.”

“Yes, Stark Industries precedes you.” He bowed to you respectfully.

“Your Highness, this is Thor and his troublesome brother Loki,” Stark said, gesturing to the two giant men beside him. Loki was bound in unique chains and had his face covered so you could only see his eyes.

“Welcome, gentlemen. We are happy to welcome you to our small corner of the world. If you all would follow me,” you said. You looped your arm through T’Challa’s, leading them to the facilities where Loki would be kept. “While your brother is a rather unique guest, we will be treating him like we treat everyone else here. Because of his abilities, he will be placed in a special room designed specifically for him.”

“How do you know it will hold Reindeer Games over here?” Stark asked, sending a pointed look to Loki. You smiled.

“I had a top engineer design it using advanced technologies that could put your entire company to shame,” you said. A smirk pulled at T’Challa’s mouth at the mention of his sister.

“You are very kind for doing this Princess Y/N,” Thor said. “I know with the right guidance, my brother will come back to who he used to be. Loki rolled his eyes at that, opting to look out the window. From the corner of your eye, you could see him staring at your reflection through the glass.

“It’s my pleasure.”

[melsworldofmusesarchived]

 “I want you to be happy.” // kole

Send “I want you to be happy.” for my muse’s reaction to yours telling them this. Accepting

( @dissolvedshadows )

Kole takes Ana’s hand, grasping it in a tender embrace and rests it over his heart. 

“I am happy. I have been since you came into my life. I told you I’d wait for you, and I meant it. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. And if you decide that this isn’t for you, that’s okay too. I’ll still be happy, because I know you and you were here - you are here.” 

[melsworldofmuses-moved]

DRUNK TALK

from @dissolvedshadows​

“Alrigh - listen up, dumb fucks! I’mma ‘bout to spill some wisdom on your asses! If ya find a woman who not only doesn’ slap ya when ya kiss her but also keeps on kissin’ ya - and is such a beautiful, smart, one-nuva-kind woman with a holy-hell-rockin’ body? Stay the fuck away from her because she’s mine! Ya hear that?! Oh man, I mean here I thought I’d never find that gal that makes my heart do the runnin’ man! Shi-it, man! I mean, you know my last girl right? The one I wanted to marry? The one that was gonna be my kid’s mom? Man, I was fucked up after she died - like, dude, so fucked up. And like...fuckin’ all those ladies I’ve screwed? That was just me - like....what’s the word....coping! Yeah, it was like my copin’ ‘mechasinmn’! But, like, Ana? Ana ain’t like them others - ‘cause like...I want her! Like, more than the sexy! Hey, hey, bud - listen: I-I - shhhhhh, listen, don’t tell anyone but...I think I might be fallin’ in love again! Baha! How crazy is that?!”

[melsworldofmuses-to-be-deleted]

Tag Dumps Pt. 15

Kole Mason’s Tags

VISAGE: sea of emeralds (kole’s appearance) CHARACTER STUDY: i aint gonna live forever ; i just wanna live while i’m alive (kole’s headcanons) WRITINGS: the bartender’s receipts (kole’s threads) REFLECTIONS: wanted dead or alive (kole’s musings) ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: talk to me while i rub the same spot over and over…on the bar table! (kole’s asks answered) CHERISH: the bartender (kole’s likes) YEARNING: yo i’ll tell you want i want what i really really want (kole’s desires) STYLE: the bartender (kole’s wardrobe) INSPIRATIONS: it’s my life (kole’s aesthetics) INFATUATIONS: baby you are my world (kole’s crushes) LOVERS: if it hurts then it’s real love (kole’s ship content) ASSORTED: pour me a drink (kole’s miscellaneous content) OOH LALA: the bartender (kole’s kinks ; themes of nsfw) OPEN THREADS: the bartender (kole’s starters) BLOOD DOESN’T MAKE YOU FAMILY (the twins’ relationships)

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[the-swedes-knees]

Time in A Bottle (Agent Mobius x Reader)

Summary: Everyone has a guilty pleasure. For Mobius, it's a slice of pie in a very specific slice of time.

Word Count: 1.8k

Located in the middle of Downtown, bordering on the corner of old-time druggies and newly gentrified condos was a moderate sized building with an exorbitant monthly rent. 

It was a theme restaurant, if the theme was 'we opened in 1953 and we'll be damned if we change the decor'- done up in chrome and frosted glass windows that clashed against the surrounding brick and mortar. The neon sign bearing the establishment's name had burnt out years ago, but it wasn't the type of place one would seek out.

Unless you were Mobius, that is.

[09:45:00]

Technically, he shouldn't be here.

His unit was nearly a mile out, or, more accurately, they would be within the hour. Dates like this, where a simple flap of a fat pigeon's wing could ripple into Nexus event after Nexus event had a name. A proper designation in their severity and frequency of necessary resets.

But he just always referred to them as 'a real pickle'.

You glance up at the front door as the brass bell affixed to the frame jingles loudly. The man that enters looks around the place before making eye contact with you and smiles. He points to the empty bar and you nod your head.

Once you finish refilling the other customer's drink, you see that he's made himself comfortable in the middle stool.

"Hey there." You greet from the opposite side of the counter. He offers a sheepish greeting in response as you set a water down in front of him, balancing a plastic straw on the rim of the glass. "Can I start you off with some coffee? Just made a fresh pot."

"That'd be great, thanks."

You place the mug and matching saucer in front of him and pour. For a moment you look up at him, and he's smiling a very genuine smile- something very rare these days.

As soon as it's full to the brim you're reaching under the counter and grabbing a clean glass sugar pourer, placing it right next to his cup.

"How'd you know?"

"Customer service intuition, I guess." He thanks you before unfurling the napkin containing his flatware. Like someone with real proper manners, he drapes the napkin over one of his legs before stirring an ample amount of sugar into his drink.

You can't help but notice just how much he fits in to the whole aesthetic with his well fitted brown suit and slim tie. New York offered a multiplicity of personalities, and you'd become quite numb to anything and everything that would walk through that door.

Yet, someone about this man was intriguing, familiar in a way. Like in the past life he was a PI that you hired to confirm your husband's affair.

Both a confidant, and a stranger.

"Feel free to take your time, but, do you know what you'd like?" You note his closed menu pushed to the side. He raises his eyebrows and nods while mid-sip, and you pull out a notepad and pen from your apron.

"Sure do, could I get two slices?" He points the vintage rotating pie cooler to your left and specifies his selection.

Easy enough. You put two generous slices onto separate plates, and he declines your offer of whipped cream or ice cream on top.

"Good choice, this one's my favorite."

"You don't say." The knowing twinkle in his eye wasn't noticed as you busied yourself with refilling his coffee. He holds his hands up in mock defeat and sighs. "Well, I guess you'll have to join me." The ceramic scraped against the quartz tabletop as he pushed one of the plates across the bar, directly opposite himself.

"I'm on the clock-"

"Don't worry, another customer doesn't come in for-" He pauses to flex his arm, riding his jacket sleeve up just enough to check his wristwatch. "12 minutes and 43 seconds."

[09:52:16]

"Am I supposed to trust you on that?" You raise an eyebrow, and his only response is a slight head tilt and pushing the second slice a nudge closer to you.

It wasn't every day courteous men offered you a break in the form of your favorite desert. Your face screwed up in contemplation as you looked at the only other two patrons in the diner before giving in and grabbing a second set of flatware. "Well, it is slow-"

"For a Friday?" He has another bite before setting down his fork and dabbing at his face with his napkin.

"Is it Friday already?" You sigh, bent over the counter to take a bite of the pie. Delicious as ever. "Hardly feels like it, all the days are melding together."

"I think this one will stand out."

"What is the date, anyway?"

"May 4th." You make a hum of acknowledgement and he gives you a lopsided grin. "2012, incase you forgot the year too."

"I'll mark it in my calendar," You laugh, using your hand to cover your mouth as you continue to chew. "'The Day I Met-'"

"Mobius." He introduces himself, extending his hand over the counter and you shake it. His grip is firm, authoritative. Before you can reply with your own name, he refers to you by it while maintaining perfect eye contact.

You can't explain why, but it feels so right when he says it. Like it was perfectly made to be pronounced in his charming Texan drawl with just the faintest hint of gravel.

While you're fixed in a stunned silence his eyes deliberately dart to the lapel of your uniform. You follow his gaze and laugh at yourself for neglecting that you were indeed wearing a nametag.

"So Mobius... like, from maths?"

"Yeah, like math." He eyes his untouched water and picks up the plastic straw. His fingers move carefully, removing the straw from the perorated paper. You watch with curiosity as the man twists the paper once and pinches the two ends together with his thumb and index finger.

Mobius holds his opposite hand out to you, confident, waiting. With a bemused smile you allow him to guide your hand. His skin is warm, presumably from the way he had cradled his coffee mug, but it's comforting in a way. His rough hand guides you, your finger tracing the geometry of the paper-straw shape.

"A path that twists and turns... but always ends back at the same spot."

"I wasn't very good at math." You admit, and gesture around as if working in a place like this was a testament to that fact. "Why does it matter that it always ends where it began?"

"Well, that all depends on perspective. Maybe it doesn't matter. But to the one who observes it, it makes all the difference." You quirk an eyebrow, silently pressing him to elaborate. "Maybe that point's... where you got your first kiss, the feeling when your favorite football team scores a winning touchdown, a perfect sunset-"

Mobius catches himself trailing off, and looks down at his plate. He puts another bite onto his fork and cheers it to you.

"Or having pie in good company."

You look around the mostly empty diner before bracing your arms against the counter, leaning in as if you were to whisper some great secret.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit odd?"

[09:59:06]

"No-" His eyes crinkle as he laughs. "No, that's a new one. But you find it charming." He winked, actually winked, and leaned back in his stool, smirking into his coffee.

Your fork was halfway to your mouth as your just stared at him, frozen. You feel your mouth open and close a few times as you try to think of a somewhat dignified response.

"How would you know that?"

"I just know things." He shrugged.

"Like what?" You challenged.

"How about, Paul- over there." You crane your head to follow his line of eye, your coworker currently bussing a table that had just left. "Worked in this place five years, loves Coke- from the glass bottle, nothing else. Has a girl on the Upper East Side and runs a decent sized internet radio station out of his apartment."

"You're one of his listeners." You narrowed your eyes at him, a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Oh, no. Hyperpop... not my style."

"Alright, BBC Sherlock-" You countered. You give a subtle head tilt to a woman sitting in a far off booth, papers spread out on the table around her pancake combo. Whoever she was, she definitely wasn't a regular. "How about her?"

"Mrs. Braverman. Youngest of eight siblings, English teacher at the charter school up the avenue. Actually prefers imitation maple syrup to the real thing."

You know very well Mobius could be talking out of his ass. But he's confident, nonchalantly so- like this was a game to him and he was obviously winning.

"What about me?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Your anticipation is palpable as he swallows his final bite, taking the time to wipe his face of crumbs before smiling softly at you.

"You are... a poem of a person. Charming, capable, when you walk into a room people notice- even if you convince yourself that they don't." His gaze is steady, patient, and he's looking at you as if you're the only person in the universe. "You have big dreams, far beyond all... this... and you're gonna make it."

[10:04:59]

The sound of the door chime breaks you out of whatever hypnotic state you had found yourself in. Sucking in a breath and blinking away the very beginnings of tears in your eyes you tell the new customer to sit wherever they like.

Mobius took this chance to check his handheld, sighing at the time and the ever-growing slope of the branch variation.

The reset charge would be set soon, with or without him there.

"Look at that. Duty calls." He stands up and pulls a billfold from his jacket pocket, not even counting as he puts the cash down on the counter.

Mobius turns to leave, but hesitates. He turns back around to face you and places his hands on his hips. Allowing himself to play into the fleeting illusion just a tad longer.

"One more thing I know about you-" Mobius rubbed his chin in careful consideration. "You have a date tonight."

"Ah-" You wag your finger at him and shake your head side to side, "got one wrong."

"Did I? Ah- well... How about we change that?"

You pause. The plates you had been holding found their way back to the counter as you set them down slowly. Once again in a very short time span, he had left you speechless.

"That... was possibly the lamest pickup line I've ever heard." Though you mean it to be snarky, it sounds more like praise coming from your smiling lips. "I get off at 6:30."

"Alright." He looks perfectly pleased with himself as he lightly knocks on the counter with his fist. "It's a date."

Walking out the door, Mobius gave one last look at the diner before reporting to the event site.

He knew would see you again, always at 9:45.

[discopig]

That Other Girl (Thomas Shelby x Reader) [Part 3/3]

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,244

It had been a week since your argument with Tommy, and you hated admitting it, but you missed him. As much as Tommy was a busy man, and a lot of your time spent with him involved him doing some sort of work while you kept him company, you still spent every day together, and this was the longest you’d ever been without speaking to each other throughout your 6 year relationship, and it was hitting you hard. You found that time moved extremely slow, and seeing as you weren’t on good terms with Tommy, you didn’t really get the chance to hang around the Shelby household, so the loneliness was starting to become overbearing.

You decided to distract yourself by going back in to work at the Garrison, and as much as you would have liked to avoid Grace and Tommy for as long as possible, you still had bills to pay and didn’t like the idea of the customers you’d grown to know over the years, getting used to Grace and you not being there. She had already turned Tommy into an idiot, you weren’t going to let her stop your earnings as well.

You walked into the Garrison to find Harry behind the bar polishing the glasses, Grace nowhere to be seen. 

“Well look who it is” Harry smiled at you, “ready to get back to work eh?”

You couldn’t help the smile forming on your face as you’d missed Harry and work

“You bet I am, my ankle’s not all there yet but I’ll take it easy”

You joined him behind the bar and started sorting out the liquor bottles that were all over the place from the previous night. You had been working for about half an hour when the door to the Garrison opened and Grace walked in, her eyes going solemn as she spotted you.

“You’re back to work I see” she spoke, tying her apron and joining you behind the bar

You wanted to pull her hair out, but you figured it wasn’t her fault Tommy had taken an interest to her, especially as she’s knew to Birmingham and might not have known of your relationship, but you still didn’t like her as you couldn’t shake off your suspicions of her having something to do with that  copper

“Yes I am, slowly trying to get back into it, my ankle really screwed with the balance of things”, you could tell she wasn’t really paying attention to you.

“Thomas talked about you, you know?”, you went rigid at the sound of Tommy’s name, especially coming from her mouth, “He hasn’t been doing good without you, shows up every evening and drinks bottle after bottle. Had to lock him out once, he almost broke the door down” she rolled her eyes at the thought.

You felt worry creep up inside your veins, as angry as you were at Tommy, you still cared for him and couldn’t find it within you to throw away years of your feelings from him because of your argument, but when you looked up from the bottle you were holding, at Grace, the worry seemed to fade away as you realised he had just been spending time with her while you hadn’t heard from him

“He tell you what happened?” You asked, wanting to know just how much he might’ve shared

“No he didn’t tell me anything, just said you two had a fight, lots of rambling about how he was gonna lose you, how he fucked up. I felt sorry for him but then I figured I don’t know what he did, and maybe he deserves whatever’s going through his head”

You nodded slowly at her words

“He came by a lot when you were out with your ankle”

“What did you talk about?” You had assumed that if Tommy refused to tell you, maybe she would

“About life I guess, I’d tell him about my life back in Ireland and he’d tell me about all sorts, ranting about work, his brothers, nightmares” she replied, “he spoke a bit about you, your family” she stated the last part with an edge of disgust, you sat in silence, lost in her words, “I don’t think you’re good for him”, you snapped out of your daze.

“Excuse me?” You asked, astonished

“You and your little posh family, you’re not like him, your roots are different and I can tell he’s getting tired of it.” You almost had to hold your jaw shut  to stop it from dropping to the floor. What was it with people bringing up your family? You had been in Birmingham for years, and most people wouldn’t be able to tell you were any different from those born and raised in the city, if not for your slightly differing accent. 

You were frustrated she brought up your family as Tommy had yesterday, but then it clicked that she must’ve been the one to feed him all those ideas about you being some posh brat while Tommy was shit-faced drunk, and you were pissed. Not only at her, but at Tommy as well for being stupid enough to even acknowledge anything she said about you

“Listen here you freak”, you glared at her “I don’t know what you’re doing in this city, and why you think you have the right to speak on who I am and my relationship, but you best believe I will find out, and when I do, I’ll have no issue kicking you out myself. First out of my bar, and then out of my fuckin’ city, you hear me? I’d kick you out right now if I could” you spat.

Grace stood there silent, and you returned to sorting out the bottles, trying to control your anger and not knock Grace out with a bottle of very expensive whiskey

You had decided you’d had enough of being lonely, and dragged John out of the house to go to the new museum that had opened a few weeks back. John wasn’t thrilled, museums not being his thing, but he was happy to spend time with you, cracking his highly inappropriate jokes every 2 seconds.

“Tommy’s been doing horrible you know that angel?” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words

“Please no Tommy talk for today, I just want to enjoy the museum.” You tried to brush him off, but you couldn’t help but worry for Tommy.

You were strolling around the museum, John’s arm lazily thrown over your shoulder, looking at different paintings and sculptures, when you spotted a familiar head of blonde hair in front of you, standing next to a man. You quickly pushed John behind the wall next to you, and slightly peaked your head out to spy on her

“Psst, John, who’s that man standing next to Grace?” You had never seen him before, and your first thought was her father, but then you remembered what she told you about him

John peaked his head out above you, and squinted his eyes to get a better look at the man, who as if on queue turned his head back to look around the museum suspiciously, as though he was searching the area, forcing you and John to quickly fall back behind the wall to hide yourselves

“Holy shit” John whispered, taking his hat off and running his fingers through his hair, his expression a mix of being deep in thought, and being dumbfounded

“What? What is it John?” You asked, eyes jumping all over his face trying to make sense of the situation

“That’s the copper. Campbell.” 

You were sitting next to John at a family meeting, Tommy’s eyes boring into you as you avoided his gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him since your argument, as he’d seemingly been avoiding the Garrison, and consequentially, you. You were feeling a bit better about the whole situation now that your suspicions had been confirmed, but you weren’t quite ready to confront Tommy about it. 

The meeting went on for a little over an hour, Tommy groggily heading it. Just as everyone was about to leave, seeing as the meeting had come to an end, John spoke up

“Y/N was right” 

Everyone looked between you and John, confused

“Grace is working with Campbell.”

You saw Polly’s smug expression from the corner of your eye. Of course she knew

“What? How do you know?” Arthur asked, Tommy was still silent, a dazed look on his face

“We were at the museum”, you saw a spark of hurt in Tommy’s eyes at the mention of you and John going somewhere together while you had been away from each other, “and we saw her talking to the copper, they were all suspicious and everything Arthur, you had to have seen them, looking around the place like a pair of guilty kids hiding from their ma” John scoffed “I’m regretting giving her all those tips now...” You smacked his arm

Everyone awkwardly stared at Tommy, but his eyes were locked onto yours

It was the middle of the night when you suddenly heard banging on your front door, waking you up from your peaceful slumber. You groggily trudged towards the door, as you rubbed your eyes to try and keep yourself awake, however all the energy seemed to rush back into your body when you opened the door and saw Tommy standing outside, his tired blue eyes piercing into your y/e/c ones.

“Can I come in?” He croaked out

You didn’t know if it was the hour of the night, or the sight of him, tired, at the door, but you didn’t have it in you to send him away, so you stepped to the side to let him in, his eyes roaming over your apartment as though he was there for the first time, even though it was basically his second home.

“Would you like some tea?” You asked, worried he might be cold from standing outside

“Yes please”

You led him to your kitchen where he sat on one of your dining room chairs, you noticed he sat in the same one he always sits in, right opposite the stove, so he could watch you cook. You boiled the tea in silence, before pouring it into the mug he had brought over once and never taken back. It was a simple white mug that Finn had scribbled on with crayon when he was smaller, the crayon never seeming to wash off no matter how many times you scrubbed the mug. The both of you sat in silence, sipping your tea until Tommy spoke up

“I’m sorry Y/N” He looked at you with sorry eyes

“Thomas...” You began

“Please don’t call me that” He pleaded

“But it’s your name. What am I supposed to call you?”

“Tommy. I’m Tommy. You always call me Tommy, don’t change that.”

You stared down into your mug, not being able to meet his eye

“I fucked up Y/N, I was in a bad place and I know it’s no excuse but I was so tired and it just seemed so easy to walk in there and fill my system with as much alcohol as possible”

“You believed what she said about me being some stuck up cunt, you didn’t listen to me when I told you she wasn’t to be trusted” as angry as you were, you were mostly sad. Sad your relationship with Tommy had come to this point

“I know Y/N, and I know I fucked up and I know I made a huge mistake I’ll never forgive myself for, but I love you, I love you so much and I can’t live without you. Just this one week without you has broken me and you don’t know how much it hurt me to see you and not be able to hold you, not have you by my side. To know that I wronged you.”

You were staring into his eyes, trying your hardest not to cry

“You’re only saying this because John confirmed she was working for the copper...” you meekly replied, not believing your own words

“No. I was going to speak to you after the meeting because I’d finally gotten the chance to see you. That other girl hadn’t even crossed my mind once”, his voice was firm and you could tell he was determined to have you forgive him

“Tommy... I don’t-”

“Y/N please, give me another chance, I don’t want to lose you because of something so stupid, because I’m so stupid. Please Y/N I can’t live without you” You noticed a tear run down his cheek and struggled to control your own emotions. You loved him and it broke your heart to see him so upset.

You got up from your seat, panic glossing over Tommy’s eyes before you walked up to him and hugged him, his head resting on your stomach with your arms holding his head close to you

“It’s okay, I forgive you, just don’t cry, please. It doesn’t suit you” You smiled down at him, your hand holding the side of his face as you used your thumb to wipe away the tear on his cheek, Tommy leaning into your touch

“And you really are stupid”, you half cried, half laughed “promise me you’ll never do that again” you held out your pink to him

He smiled up at you and took your pinky with his own 

“I promise.”

AAAAAAH this is the end guys! I decided to give it a happy ending because fuck it why not! This is my first completed series and I really hope you guys enjoyed it. I went a bit crazy with the ending and I hope it’s not too cringe or disappointing, I just couldn’t stop myself. I was thinking about making a version where the reader ends up with John instead (because I love John), so let me know if you would be interested in that

Requested tags: @namelesslosers​

[duuhrayliegh]

europe - request

pairing: sebastian stan x singer!reader (seb!pov)

summary: singer!reader writes another song, this one is about seb

warnings: suggestive content (*wink wonk*), language, the works ya know

a/n: this took so long bc im not lyrically inclined and there isn’t even that many lyrics in here. i can’t even guys this was a nice break though. i liked the concept, i hope i lived up to your dreams. :)

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are both open loves!

check out my other writing on my full m.list

Sebastian was doing a press interview for his new movie. It was his first on television interview. First time being back in the studio for The Late Late Show with James Corden. First time since you and him had gotten together. He was eager to see what James had in store for him.

He was wearing a bright yellow shirt paired with a red leather jacket. His legs were clad with a different pair that he wanted to wear originally because you couldn’t get quite enough of his thighs. Had he worn the other pair, there would’ve been a prominent wet spot on one leg where you rode him to your own satisfaction. The memory made him bite his lip and adjust his pants to try to quell his oncoming boner.

“Good luck out there tonight, lovey. You’re gonna crush it.” Your voicemail warmed Sebastian’s heart. He missed you a lot, but you were currently on your own press junket. Your new album finally came out and your manager had been running you ragged. Sebastian was so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Hi, Mr. Stan. You’re needed on deck in five minutes.” He nodded at the assistant producer who stuck her head in his dressing room. Sebastian ran his hands through his hair one more time before deciding enough was enough.

“Well, this is as good as it's gonna get.” He murmured to himself as he walked out of the dressing room. He rolled his shoulders, snuggling into the leather jacket encasing his back. Sebastian took a swig of a water bottle from the table backstage. He still got nervous when doing interviews, always worried that he’s going to say the wrong thing.

“And now I would like to introduce our next guest. You’ve seen him as Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe for the last ten years. He’s played the borderline psychotic Jeff Gillooly in I, Tonya, and the corrupt Sheriff Bodecker from The Devil All The Time. It is my pleasure to introduce the one, the only, Sebastian Stan!”

James stood, clapping as Sebastian made his way to the main set area. He raised his right hand, his left remaining on his stomach. As he approached James, Sebastian switched hands, his left coming up as an offer for James to shake. Afterwards, James held his hand out to the chair beside his desk, waiting for Sebastian to sit down.

“Hi, Sebastian! It’s so good to have you back.” James’ accent broke Sebastian’s name up into three distinct syllables, bringing a smile to Seb’s face.

“It’s good to be back, man.” He grinned big, waiting for James to ask the first question. Once they got into it, the interview went smoothly. Sebastian was able to avoid giving out spoilers for his new project, leaving just enough to the imagination. James was in a fit of laughter after Sebastian had told a crazy story from being on set. James wiped tears away from his lower lashline, calming down just enough to catch his breath.

“Okay, so I want to move onto something else.” Sebastian sobered up quickly, unsure of where James was taking the conversation. “We want all the juicy details about your relationship with Y/N.” Sebastian’s brow raised as he pulled a face at James’ question. He laughed to himself for a minute before answering.

“Ya know, we really have you to thank for that.” Sebastian pointed at James, before bringing that same finger to rub his eye.

“Really?” The man’s voice pitched up, brows hitting his hairline.

“Oh yeah. We were only introduced because of your show.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair, remembering that night with you. The two of you had gone out for drinks, talking for hours at the bar and then even longer in his hotel room. He remembered waking up with you wrapped up in his arms. You didn’t have sex that night, but you definitely did the second night.

And oh god, if  that second night wasn’t just as amazing as the first. The face you made whenever you climaxed danced it’s way to the forefront of Sebastian’s mind. Not good, definitely not good. He had to readjust himself in his pants again, crossing his legs to cover up his rather large problem.

“Yeah, we started dating that same week. Kept it quiet though.” Sebastian held his palm out in the air, bouncing it up and down.

“Right, right. And do you want to tell everyone how you did end up revealing that you and Y/N were an item?” Sebastian looked down at his lap, smirking to himself. “Or should we just play the clip?”

A clip played for the studio audience. It was Y/N doing her makeup for the Vogue Beauty Secrets Youtube video. Sebastian waltzed in the background of the shot. It then cuts to Sebastian kissing Y/N on the cheek, brandishing the hickey’s that she had sucked onto his cheek the night before. Mhm, I remember that night too.

Sebastian had surprised Y/N by coming to see her. He wasn’t doing anything and he missed you, so why waste a perfectly good opportunity. He spent the night there completely ravishing you until you begged him to stop. That night he proudly wore your thighs as earmuffs, burying his face in you. He really needed to stop reminiscing during an interview.

“How adorable. Was that planned at all? Or did you just do that because you could?” Sebastian shook his head, his right hand scratching at the stubble decorating his jaw.

“Oh, no. It definitely wasn’t planned. I honestly don’t remember if I knew Y/N was filming that morning, so I’m just glad I put on pants before I left the bedroom.” James laughed at Sebastian’s comment.

“Okay, so I’ve gotta ask your opinion on something though.” Sebastian made a hum of acknowledgement, signalling for James to continue. James leaned back, pulling out a cardstock of your new album. “So, this is Y/N’s new album, it just came out about three or four weeks ago?” The crowd clapped for you, and Sebastian cheered along with them.

“What do ya want my opinion on? If it’s the album, then I gotta tell ya, I loved it. Every single song on there is absolutely amazing.” James nodded, a smirk forming on his lips making Sebastian think he made a mistake.

“So you’re aware of the song Europe?” Sebastian smirked, nodding his head because he knew where this was going. “Would you like to tell us what that’s about?” James laughed as Sebastian stammered, looking for the right words. “I mean, let’s just read some of the lyrics.” James looked at the cards in his hands as Sebastian drifted into his thoughts again.

You had brought him into the studio before finalizing Europe. He remembers watching you twist your hands at your waist and continuously cracking your knuckles. Sebastian was curious because you hadn’t ever been like that when showing him a song before. Every question he had about your anxiety revolving around the song was thrown away when he heard it.

Europe was an ode to Sebastian, all of Sebastian. He couldn’t help pulling you down onto his lap by your waist as he listened. You were the only two in the studio, so the two of you were free to do whatever you wanted. The funny thing about that night was that there was a new track recording.

“Oh shit, Seb.” The dam broke afterwards, peels of laughter leaving your lips without explanation. Your right hand raised to your mouth, attempting (and failing) to quiet your giggles.

“Babe, why the ‘oh shit’?” You held up a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet and listen. He strained his ears, waiting for his own ‘oh shit’ moment. Then, his own voice filtered into his ears, making him crease his brow in confusion. “What is that?”

“That’s the audio from when I first played you Europe.” Small giggles passed your lips again. “I was going to ask you if I could use, like, a sound byte from it for either the beginning or the end of the song.” Sebastian nodded, slightly amazed that you were so creative with your work. “But, I forgot to turn off the recording.” Sebastian’s eyes locked on your expression, waiting for him to connect the dots. He pulled a face and then,

“Oh shit.” His eyes widened, a huff of laughter escaping. “Wait, so it caught all of it?” Your lips rolled inwards, holding back laughs as you nodded your head. Sebastian raised a brow, his eyes flicking over your face. “Use it.” He had a few new hickeys after that night too, but not after decorating your body with a few of his own.

“Sebastian, I would like you to read a few lines from the song, please.” James handed Sebastian a card, a snort leaving Sebastian’s body involuntarily. He glanced at the cards, know the lyrics by heart already. He took a big breath, reading the lines that James chose. He threw him a look with his eyes, head tilting slightly toward the British man.

“Uh, okay, here we go.” Sebastian laughed to himself, blowing out a breath through clenched lips. He lifted the card again, “You know,” dropping his hand back to his lap while raising his other hand. “You know, she’s gonna make fun of me for this right?” James laughed, looking into the camera as if he was on The Office, then to the audience with a duh look on his face.

“Sebastian. We’re going to make fun of you.” The crowd didn’t hesitate to join in James’ amusement. Sebastian dropped his head into his hands, groaning loudly. “Do you need a little encouragement?” The audience began cheering and clapping for Sebastian.

“Fine, alright, alright.” He shook his head before starting. “Long nights with hickeys earned like a badge of honor. Teasing kisses, twisted sheets, all signs of true seduction.” Sebastian looked up from his hands, expecting James to say something. All James offered, though, was a wave of his hand for Sebastian to continue. “I never have to worry because all my sins are forgiven when I’m with you.” James held his hand up, stopping Sebastian from continuing.

“Okay, let’s dissect that, Mr. Stan.” James propped his elbow on his interview desk, placing his head at an angle in his palm. “What is this song about?” Sebastian’s lips curled inward, stopping himself from laughter.

“James,” Sebastian leaned forward against the arm of the couch. “I thought this was a family show.” The British man quirked a brow, sweeping both hands in front of his body gesturing to the studio.

“This is the Late Late Show, Sebastian.” He turned back to the audience, addressing them and the cameras. “And that is all the time we have tonight! Thank you to Sebastian for coming on the show with me tonight! And thank all of you for tuning in tonight. We’ll see you next time.” The producer beside the camera signaled that the show ended and Sebastian turned back to James.

“It’s a good song.” Sebastian smiled wide afterwards, saying his goodbyes to the crew. He was back in the safety of his dressing room when his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” He knew that it was you from the personally assigned ringtone you picked out when he wasn’t looking.

“The Internet is going to eat you alive.” Sebastian grinned as your peels of laughter trickled in through the speaker of his phone.

“Oh yeah, could you imagine if I told them that it wasn’t just random sounds at the end?” He could just imagine your smirk at his mention of your little addition to Europe.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” Sebastian paused, waiting for you to explain. “Although I think next time we should do a visual along with the audio. You pickin’ up what I’m putting down Stan?” Sebastian smirked to himself, thinking about being able to watch himself bring you to the brink over and over again, even when you’re not together. His pants got tighter at the idea.

“I think we might have to look into that, Y/L/N.”

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Down By The Docks

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word Count: 1810

This is inspired by another request, from an anon this time.

The idea is a '40's AU. I wasn't totally sure if that meant they wanted a story totally set in the 1940's or something that just didn't reference the war, or pretended the war wasn't on/our characters aren't involved in the war, so I just picked one.

Hope this is what you wanted anon!

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

Bucky Barnes was one of the best looking fellas Y/n had ever laid eyes on, of that he was sure. It was only his second day working down on the docks, but he was sure he could happily spend the rest of his life working this menial job if the view never changed.

He was always quick with a smile for a pretty dame or even, Y/n had noticed, a particularly handsome fella.

Y/n had thought for sure he had imagined seeing his 'impressing a pretty dame' smile aimed at the bloke who had delivered a sack of letters to the area they were working in.

He would have written it off as the heat getting to him if not for that very same smile being directed his way later that day while they were all sitting around eating their lunches.

None of the other's seemed to have picked up Bucky's brazen flirting with both genders, or maybe they just didn't care. That last one seemed pretty unlikely though.

Y/n just hiked up a brow at Bucky the second time he shot him that pretty smile. He had no idea what to do with that. It couldn't be helped that it was illegal to be that way, that was just the way of the world.

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

Y/n was sure that Bucky was trying to kill him.

He had shown up to work wearing his standard work wear. Just the worn whites and browns of clothes that had been washed too many times but that you couldn't afford to throw out yet.

It just wasn't fair that the day was particularly warm, so everyone had ended up stripped down to their pants. All those half naked male bodies glimmering with sweat, the noises they made unconsciously as they lifted boxes full of cargo and moved them to where they needed to go.

And right there, in the middle of it all, Bucky Barnes. Poor Y/n had ended up being sent home from being 'affected by the sun'. It wasn't his fault dammit, Bucky had been parading around looking good enough to eat. Y/n was ashamed to find himself literally walking into poles and walls in his preoccupation with the half naked Bucky.

----------

Y/n sighed in relief. Tonight was going to be blessedly free of one Bucky Barnes, perpetual thorn in his gay side.

He was going out to a bar. It was an open secret that this particular bar was a gay bar. The cops in that area were happy to turn a blind eye to it largely because several of them were known regulars there.

That didn't mean you could just go about talking about it, or anything that went on inside it while you weren't there.

It was still illegal after all.

Y/n leaned back into his booth and sighed happily. A nice drink, some eye candy that wouldn't beat the crap out of him just for giving them the eye, and a little dancing ought to make his worries just float away.

Y/n had been looking forward to this all week.

Damn Barnes to hell and back.

Y/n moved over to the bar to order himself something silly. He was feeling the need for some ridiculousness tonight.

He had just taken his first sip of his drink when he spotted him. There he was, standing by the bar just a little ways down from Y/n, seemingly ordering a drink.

Y/n tried valiantly to not spit his mouthful of booze all over the bar. He had paid good money for that drink and he would be damned if he wasted it.

It didn't work very well. Some of it ended up coming out of his nose, and as he hacked up the parts of it that went down the wrong pipe to choke him, the rest dribbled down his chin.

'Well, that was attractive,' Y/n thought drily.

"Oh gosh, are you alright? Here, let me help."

Y/n turned watering eyes on the man addressing him.

He was met with a short blond who looked like a stiff wind could knock him over if he wasn't careful.

He was holding out a handkerchief and looking unsure of himself.

Y/n went to reassure the stranger that he was fine, but some small remaining part of the drink that hadn't been attempting to kill him before chose that moment to do so. Instead of words, he could only hack and cough, trying to get the liquid out of his lungs.

Y/n felt a hand on his back moving in firm circles, trying to help. He looked back over at the man to find him at his side frowning as he rubbed at Y/n's back.

When Y/n could finally speak properly he took the handkerchief, which had once again been offered, to clean his face of tears and spit and snot.

'Who'd have thought that alcohol burned so badly going into a person's nose and lungs?' Y/n thought disgustedly.

When he had cleaned himself up properly and turned back to his savior he suddenly realised he had no idea how to make this situation any less awkward.

The other man apparently had no such reservations.

"I'm Steve by the way. That looked pretty painful. Are you okay now?"

He was so earnest, and it didn't look like he was laughing at Y/n at all, so he could only nod vaguely.

"Yeah, I was just surprised by something. I'm Y/n, just so you know."

Y/n paused, feeling every bit as awkward as he ever had.

"Um, after that bit of excitement, I think I'm gonna call it a night. Murderous drinks aside it was nice meeting you. Can I clean this and bring it back here some time for you Steve?"

Y/n held up the thoroughly soaked handkerchief, cringing internally.

"Oh, don't worry about it, but are you sure you don't want to stay for a little bit longer? I'm here with my friend, but he's never very good company when there's dancing and alcohol involved."

Y/n mulled it over for a second, before manners kicked in.

"Yeah, no worries. I could stay for a bit longer, if only to save you from a lonely evening."

Steve's smile was sweet, but Y/n also couldn't detect anything else behind it. It didn't seem like he was trying to hit on Y/n, just that he didn't want to spend the night alone while his 'friend' danced the night away.

Y/n followed behind Steve as he led him over to the booth that Y/n had originally been sitting in.

Y/n stopped still at the sight of who was sitting across from Steve. Bucky dang-it-all-to-heck Barnes.

At their approach, Bucky turned away from the two women sitting with him in the booth. His handsome face lit up when he registered who it was standing in front of him.

"Stevie, there you are. I was starting to think you ditched me earlier than ever, but look what you found. I should bring you here more often."

Steve just gave Bucky a blank look.

Y/n couldn't blame him. If his 'good friend' had taken him out for a night of fun, he wouldn't have appreciated him looking at other guys that way either. He wasn't exactly backward in letting people know he was interested from the sounds of it.

Y/n stood awkwardly by the booth, not really sure if he should still be there. He had followed Steve to keep him company, but if it were him in Steve's shoes right now, he'd want him to leave.

"Um, I think I should probably head off actually."

Steve turned back to Y/n looking confused.

"Oh, well if you're sure. You don't have to stay if you don't want to of course."

Y/n refused to acknowledge the fact that Bucky was honest to goodness pouting. Was there anything in this world that was fair?

"Well, at least let me walk you out."

There would be no arguing apparently, as Bucky was already out of his seat and herding Y/n to the door.

"It was nice meeting you!" Y/n barely managed to turn to yell to Steve as he was pulled away by the ever insistent Bucky.

Once they made it outside Bucky paused and turned to face Y/n.

"Hey."

Y/n turned to face him.

"Gotta say, I'm gettin' a bit confused here."

Y/n frowned but stayed silent.

"When we met at work I thought you were pretty cute, but you don't hit on people down by the docks if you wanna live to see the next sunrise, you know? But then you were always starin' an I thought, maybe you mighta been interested. Then that day you kept walkin' into things happened and I was pretty dang sure you were."

Y/n was blushing by now.

'Great so he did notice.'

"But then I see you here."

Bucky had moved closer and lowered his voice, speaking softer.

"An, no offense to Stevie, but he's not exactly every guys dream-boat. You know, I don't even think he knows this is a gay bar."

He broke off here to chuckle quietly. He was standing so close, he was practically pressing Y/n up against the wall of the bar.

"But then you're actin' all stand-offish. Like you can't even bare to look at me. So, what's a guy to think?"

Bucky seems to realise how this might be coming across and pulls away to give Y/n some room.

"Do I got a shot with you Y/n?"

Y/n had been floating somewhere dreamy with Bucky pressed up so close to him, but when he pulled away, reality came crashing down. How dare he ask questions like that when Steve was in there waiting for him to get back?

"You got some nerve Barnes. You can't just ask anyone out. Not when you got a fantastic guy like that waiting for you in there!"

"Fantastic guy? What-"

Y/n cut him off before he could sweet talk his way out of this.

"Steve! He's sweet, and kind and probably way too good for someone who flirts with everyone on the block!"

Bucky was laughing, which Y/n thought was way out of line.

"Wha, Y/n, Steve's just a friend. He don't even swing that way."

Y/n's face lit up with the brightest blush he had ever felt. He was sure he was going to actually self-combust before long.

"Oh."

"Yeah. So is that why you looked at me like that?"

He moved closer again, and when he spoke that damned silver tongue was back.

"I would never. When I'm with someone, they're the most important person in the world to me. Besides, how could I ever look my ma in the face again if I treated my partner like that?"

Y/n blushed fiercely.

"So whaddya say? Give me a shot?"

Y/n could only nod, face still a brilliant red.

[fandomvariousness]

Caught

Pairing: Eren x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, violence, smut: fingering, slight dubcon, power play, choking

Summary: Eren fu*ks you through the bars of his cell. YEP. That’s it.

Word count: 2k

A/N: We love deranged Eren supremacy, don’t we ( ͡• ͜ʖ ͡•)

It always takes just a slightest moment of distraction.

You couldn’t take your eyes of the Attack titan, who has also happened to be your lover, tearing everything apart. You were standing in a stupor on the edge of some building, aware that you’re having an unforgivable meltdown, yet you couldn’t move a limb. How has it come to this?

Just as you were regaining your common sense, a giant hand swatted you away like you were nothing but a pesky fly. You managed to see the Jaw titan scurrying away as your back hit the hard brick wall of another building before you plummeted down, what, 3, 4 stories?

The pain was excruciating: your head was pulsating unbearably, vision fuzzy, taste of blood in your mouth.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you tried to get yourself together and ignoring the severe injuries stood up.

Yet you only managed to get on all fours before feeling your consciousness slip away.

~

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt your consciousness tap back into you. You groaned in slight pain and started to get up, but was pushed back down by a soft hand.

“Please, don’t move.” It was Mikasa.

“Mikasa,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “What’s going on?”

She remained silent as you forced your eyes to open properly and immediately regretted it. You’ve never seen Mikasa with such grim an expression that she wore now.

“Mikasa…” you repeated, afraid to ask what’s wrong.

She gulped. “Sasha’s dead. She’s been shot after two Marleyan kids snuck into the airship.”

You felt the shock run down your throat, dispersing all over your body.

“Shit,” you mumbled, trying to control the shaking. “Shit…”

“She’s already buried. You’ve been unconscious for some time.”

You were wiping your tears away that couldn’t stop streaming. After a while, you mustered up the strength to ask about him.

“And Eren? Where is he?”

Mikasa let her head hang even lower.

~

You sauntered over to the deep basement, where Eren was being held. You told no one you were coming, especially not Hange or Levi. All of the events were too much for you, and you just needed to lay eyes on him to know whether what they say is true.

You don’t want to believe any of it, but you saw with your own eyes how the Attack Titan destroyed the city. No remorse, no hesitation – just destruction.

Dimly lit stone hallways gave off eerie atmosphere, the flames dancing with the shadows in every crack and crevice. You knew no one was here except for you and Eren in his cell further away, but you felt like you were being watched. Watched by the dark.

As you approached his cell, still slightly limping, you heard him muttering something.

“Fight… Fight…”

You gulped and finally stepped into the light, taking in the sight of Eren at the same time: his damp hair was gathered in a bun, his lean yet muscular frame leaning to the sink with his hands, staring dead in the eyes of his own reflection.

You forced yourself to stop staring at his bare, toned torso before you diverted your gaze to his face, trying to catch his eyes, yet he wasn’t interested, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence.

“Eren?” you croaked out, slightly wavering on your intentions. Maybe you shouldn’t’ve come here, especially how he acted with Hange not so long ago.

He sighed silently and let his head hang a little lower, with his eyes closed – obviously annoyed. “I thought the visiting hours were over.”

Oh, so he’s being cheeky? After all of you risked your lives for his selfish intentions, after Sasha died, after you almost died, after each of you abandoned your morals and did what Eren wanted you to do.

You felt yourself burn with odium – you realized you’ve never been this angry on him before.

“Look at me, you, jackass,” you spat angrily, striding over to the bars and rattling them with both of your hands. “All of this so funny to you, huh??”

His knuckles whitened as he was clearly restraining himself from acting out against you.

“Y/N…” he growled alarmingly, few orange sparks jolting around his frame.

Your heart stuck in your throat, yet you forbid yourself to show him how terrified you were.

You chuckled. “Ooh, go ahead, just blow this whole building away, because you don’t even care about us, right??”

You heard the sink creak before he threw himself towards the bars, rattling them in rage a single time, as if to shake you off. Naturally, you drew back a bit, but didn’t let go of the bars.

Both of you were breathing heavily, staring each other dead in the eyes.

“Eren, I swear, I would slap you so hard if –”

If not for these damn bars, you were going to say, but the airflow was cut off when his calloused hand wrapped around your neck and drew you flush against the bars, metal squeezing against your sore skin.

You didn’t lose your cool as your eyes were still having a battle of their own, Eren’s fingers squeezing into your skin to the point of teasing.

“Go ahead and try.”

You slightly bit your lower lip as you stretched out your hand between the bars, squeezing your own dainty palm against his thick neck. That did almost nothing, of course, but you were showing him that you won’t cower before him like he expects you to.

He noted that as the corner of his lips twitched ever so slightly. “You’re feisty today.”

You cursed yourself mentally as you felt blush creep up your cheeks – not in a million years you’d want to give in to him in this situation, but your body was acting on its own.

You curtly pushed him away with the hand you were holding his neck as he released his own grip, yet the look didn’t break.

You were genuinely pissed on Eren – you wanted to have a nice, calm talk with him and find out what’s really going on, but he’s being even more stubborn than usual.

You sighed. “Sorry to disturb your… slumber.” you noted snarkily and turned around to walk away, yet Eren’s hand wrapped around your throat from behind in one swift motion and dragged you back.

Your body hit the bars painfully, making you wince.

“You wound me up, and now you’re going away?” he muttered smokily against the back of your ear, lips as close as the bars allowed.

You grunted as you tried to pry his fingers off of your skin when his other hand snaked around your waist, barring your escape completely.

“Am I your hostage now?” you breathed out, feeling your stomach flutter as Eren’s breath tickled your skin.

The hand around your waist snuck under your white long-sleeve shirt, leaving a scalding-hot trail in its wake. “Kind of.”

You managed to suppress a moan, but your eyelids fluttered down on their own.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he whispered, his hand kneading your breast as the other tightened around your neck.

Heat was continuously pooling in your lower stomach as you hummed in agreement.

“Didn’t catch that,” he jerked your body against the bars, rattling them. “What was it again?”

You winced and gripped the bars above your head with both of your hands. “I missed you.” you wailed louder than intended.

You didn’t see it, but you sure as hell felt him smirk.

His tongue brushed against the nape of your neck, coaxing out a quick moan out of you, making Eren release a breathy laugh. “I missed your cute sounds.”

You blushed even harder as you flailed your hand in air for a second, searching for Eren’s head before you found it and burrowed your fingers in his dark hair, messing up his bun.

“Eren,” you breathed out and he knew exactly what to do – he always did.

Normally, he would tease and edge the shit out of you, but having being apart longer than ever, he himself was eager to touch and feel you.

His hand left your neck and snuck under the waistline of your leggings and panties, gliding his fingers through your slick core.

You shivered as he breathed out. “All that rage got you so wet for me.”

“Yes,” you whined squirming against the bars, feeling his own hardness against your behind.

He circled your clit, his own pants feeling tighter and tighter. You felt like your skin was glowing from all the heat and for a moment you wished so hard these damn bars would melt from that same heat, leaving no barrier between the two of you.

Eren’s expert hands were making you moan louder and louder before you felt an intrusion in your mouth as he slipped two digits inside. “You don’t want Hange to interrupt our quality time, do you?”

You yelped as he pushed a finger inside your core – it was just one finger, but you were already on the brink of overstimulation.

“E-Eren,” you croaked after a few moments. “Need your cock, please,”

The battle between your mind and your body was long non-existent as you admitted you’re such a mess for him, like always. You always got caught in his web, and this time is no exception.

You lowered your hand to stroke the obvious tent in his pants, making him groan oh-so-sexily.

He didn’t hesitate as he hooked his fingers under the hem of your pants and underwear as he pulled them down to your knees, a waft of air hitting your wet center. You didn’t even mind the bars painfully pushing against your skin and bones anymore.

You gripped the metal above your head again as Eren aligned himself with your entrance, his fingers digging into your hips as he pushed inside, the sweet stretching ache turning into blazing pleasure almost immediately.

You let out a prolonged moan at the cacophony of these sensations as Eren started to move.

“So tight, always so tight,” Eren mumbled, losing himself in you too.

His tip hit your G-spot, what wasn’t surprising since he knew every inch of you and was always marking your responses to his ministrations. He knew exactly how to make you lose your mind.

The bars were rattling real loud as he pounded into you as if the barrier was non-existent, both of you ignoring the pain from constantly hitting the hard metal.

“Missed my dick, didn’t you?” it was more like a statement than a question, what made you feel dirty and was a final point of tipping you towards you release.

“Eren!” you yelped. “I’m gonna cum,” you were a hot mess, tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly.

He felt your cunt clench around him, indicating that you’re indeed so close, as he pounded into you hard a few times more, one hand cupping your breast and the other on your stomach. You released a short, high-pitched moan when you finally fell, seemingly straight into his embrace.

He pumped into you chasing his own release as you were coming back to your senses, holding on to the bars for dear life as you finally felt his seed spill inside you, your bodies becoming one despite the obvious division.

He held you against the bars with his arms snaked around your waist for a few moments more as you both tried to steady your breathing.

“Really missed you,” Eren muttered quietly, his breath tickling your neck sweetly.

You pulled up your leggings as he did the same with his own pants and turned around to face him, cupping his face with your hand, gently this time.

“I’m so glad you’re back.” was all you could say as you got emotional all of a sudden, seeing his face snuggle into your palm, resembling a small, stray puppy, so desperate for comfort.

He smiled slowly. “You’re not angry on me anymore, are you?”

You released a breathy laugh. “I won’t be if you watch that filthy mouth of yours from time to time.”

“But you like it filthy, don’t you?”

You bit your lower lip. “I do.”

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch. 3

Ch.1   Ch.2

Summary: "it matches your eyes"

----

Cleaning Cassandra’s study became routine. Once a week, her chores were swapped for a two way -for now- trip to the dungeons. Despite every other maid looking at her with utter pity in their eyes, the redhead was not really complaining. She would take Cassandra’s mock autopsies and weird collection of specimens over dusting an ancient opera hall any day. It gave her an odd sense of nostalgia, almost as if she was back with her classmates studying forensic pathology and a friend threatening to throw a severed hand at her. 

She also got to see glimpses of Cassandra. Not that they talked, oh no, the brunette would simply observe her and come up with the occasional task to get a raise out of Nicole and, when it failed to do so, she would grumpily go back to whatever she was doing prior. Her study, however, was an open book. While cleaning the shelves by the desk, Nicole took her time to read the title on each and every worn spine of her books. A lot of them more or less outdated medical books, some relatively modern looking textbooks, even an occasional novel tucked in between its more science oriented siblings. The adjacent wall was full of what looked like hand drawn diagrams, messy notes pinned by tape or even sticky notes. Nicole even noticed a family photo taped to that same wall. It was black and white, with the castle’s courtyard in the background, the three sisters standing in front of their mother.

Cassandra was sitting in her chair, occupying herself with her sickle when all of a sudden she stilled. She pulled out her pocket watch, softly cursed under her breath and pushed herself out of the chair. She was about to exit the room when she probably realized that Nicole was not supposed to be there by herself. 

“Ugh...Follow me. I can’t leave you here alone and I need to get something.”

With the mop abandoned by a wall, Nicole followed the brunette’s hurried steps through the main hallways of the castle, occasionally crossing paths with another staff member. It took no more than five minutes to get to their destination. Bela and Daniela could be heard from inside a room near the castle’s main entrance when Cassandra pushed open its ornate door and stepped inside. Nicole took two steps behind her when a familiar voice called out.

“Ah, Nicole darling! I see you’ve settled in,” Duke said in his usual cheerful tone. 

It did little to stop her stomach from sinking a little when three sets of golden eyes snapped in her direction. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care when he went on. “I hope my favorite clients here are treating you well.” Oh god please shut up. “Lady Cassandra! Your package is also here.” 

She wordlessly took a wrapped box from him and, with a thanks, went out the door. Not wanting to fall behind, Nicole gave Duke a small wave and a smile before turning around to follow. She had to almost jog to keep up with her long strides. Damn you short legs. 

“How on earth do you know him?” Cassandra’s question was accompanied by narrowed eyes.

Was there any point in lying? Lady Dimitrescu already knew so her ever so nice middle daughter could always find out too. 

“He’s the one that brought me here.”

“From the village?”

Nicole rubbed her temples. “From a hotel bar in the nearest big city.” She was beyond done with this conversation. 

Cassandra stopped in her tracks, grabbing the other girl's shoulders when she almost crashed into her. Was that a genuine trace of concern in her eyes?

“You mean you’re not from here? Does mother know?”

Nicole nodded, but before she had time to add anything else, another voice called out for the brunette from behind the pair. It was Bela, the sound of heels on the marble floors echoing around them as she approached. 

“Cassandra, dinner is in two hours.” 

“And?”

“And you said you would take care of the meat. Did you?” 

The blonde scoffed at her sister’s widened eyes, then hooked a finger around the chain connected to Cassandra’s watch and clicked her tongue when she saw the time.

“If you insist on carrying this around at all times, you could at least start making use of it. You have around twenty minutes.” Her voice was icy cold, as opposed to Cassandra’s stammered reply.

“Wait, can you stall the cook for a bit, there’s no way I can do two bodies in twenty minutes!”

“Sorry Cassandra, that’s out of my hands.” And with that, the blonde turned on her heels and left the two of them at the entrance of the dungeons, Cassandra damn near seething.

The two wasted no time in hastily descending the stony dungeon steps, Nicole going back to the study while Cassandra went towards the cells. After no more than two minutes, she came in and haphazardly threw a body on each table. 

The most logical thing to do would be to go about her chores and not risk attracting the brunette's wrath upon herself. But logic was out the window the moment she stepped foot into the Duke's caravan to come to this place. Besides, staying on Cassandra's good side was far better than mopping the floor in hopes she wouldn't snap one day and throw her in one of the moldy cells. 

"Would you like some help with those?" Nicole asked tentatively. 

"Can you help?" Cassandra didn't even look in her direction, only throwing a hand in the air and taking out what looked like freezer safe bags from a cupboard. 

"...Yeah." 

Golden eyes turned to her and the brunette stilled for a second. Skepticism and confusion both obvious on her face at the idea of this small meek maid offering to help out in chopping up a human body. She realized however that the alternative wasn't much better so with a raised eyebrow she put a scalpel and a pair of gloves on the table closest to Nicole. 

"Suit yourself. And don't make a mess." Oh you're to talk. 

Now, admittedly, performing an autopsy wasn't exactly the same as straight up butchering a human body for consumption. How different would it be though? The organs just needed to be separated and the limbs cut. She tried not to look at the face while making the first incision. 

---

It took 17 minutes for both of them to finish. All the bits and pieces were separated and secured in bags just in time for a knock on the door. Cassandra threw her gloves in the sink and went to open it, letting an older woman only vaguely familiar to Nicole inside. 

"Lady Cassandra, I didn't know you had help," she raised an eyebrow at the redhead awkwardly standing by the table she had worked at, scalpel still in hand. 

Cassandra only grimaced and with mock cheerfulness in her voice said, "Surprise." 

The older woman, presumably the cook, motioned for the maids that came with her to take the bags and, with a slight bow of the head to Cassandra, they were gone, only the bloody mess on the tables left behind. The brunette let a sigh escape past her lips and turned to Nicole. Her yellow gaze examined the now bloody uniform for a moment. 

"A shame this got dirty," she said, approaching the redhead. 

Tiredness and holding her tongue never mixed well within Nicole, so at the obviously fake apologetic tone she allowed an edge of snark into her reply. 

"Oh don't worry, the maids are all quite good at washing out blood stains. It's part of the job requirements." 

Cassandra just chuckled and rolled her eyes at the sass. 

"Just ask the head chambermaid for a replacement. This is seriously ruined," she said toying with the hem of Nicole's white blouse, now soaked in crimson. "Your face however, we can still salvage that." 

Nicole furrowed her brows and brought a hand to her cheek, cursing herself under her breath upon realizing that she was still wearing the bloody gloves and had just smeared even more on her face. She took them off and threw them on a cleaner spot on the table to be retrieved later. Meanwhile, the brunette moved to the sink and returned shortly with a damp handkerchief. 

She grabbed Nicole's chin between two slender fingers and tilted her head upward. Nicole could feel the metal of the table's edge against her lower back when she instinctively tried taking a step back. She had no way of escaping. Not that escaping even as much as grazed the surface of her mind when she locked eyes with Cassandra, an uncharacteristic sort of softness in her gaze. She took her sweet time passing the damp fabric over the blood stained skin. Then, after she seemed content with her handywork, she dragged her fingers over Nicole's cheek in a caress that sent a small shiver down the redhead's spine. 

"There. Good as new," the brunette hummed. 

It was a complete lie and they both knew it. The blush now present on Nicole's cheeks was probably just as bad as the crimson stains she was sporting mere moments ago, she was quite sure of that. By some mercy of the crow woman these people worshipped though, Cassandra didn't acknowledge it and simply moved back to her desk, leaving Nicole frozen in place.

After a few seconds of silence, Cassandra chuckled and, without turning from whatever she was scribbling in a notebook, said:

"Those tables won't clean themselves darling." 

Oh shut the fuck up. 

---

Most staff members preferred to spend their free time in the gardens, be it the inner courtyard or the fenced in garden at the back of the estate. Nicole was no exception to that. When she had time, she liked to grab a hot cup of tea and sit down in this small nook of the garden where a small, almost knee high bench was overshadowed by large rose bushes. Nobody else seemed to come there if the old cracked wood of the small seat was anything to go by, except maybe the gardener for occasional maintenance but she was nowhere to be seen most times. 

The quiet was interrupted by a distant set of heavy steps. Steps that Nicole ignored. She wasn't in any off limits area and this was her day off. She wasn't doing anything wrong and, therefore, had no reason to believe whoever was walking around was there for her. Until the steps became louder and the sound of heels clear on the stony path. 

"There you are," Cassandra's voice almost made Nicole spit out the tea she was currently drinking. 

The brunette laughed at that, in an oddly good mood and stopped to stand in front of the redhead. Cassandra's "good mood" made Nicole highly suspicious given past experience. She set her cup down and, with a cough to clear out her offended airways, stood and addressed the brunette. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure, my lady?" Aside from having my one free day interrupted. Again.

She saw Cassandra pout for a brief moment but it was quickly replaced by her ever so characteristic smirk. A smirk that Nicole would never admit was awfully attractive paired with the sharp features of her face. At least not out loud. 

"I have wonderful news for you," she said, tilting Nicole's head up with a hand, thumb distractingly close to her lips. "Cynthia, our cook, said she really appreciated the way you sectioned that body last week. So mother decided to give you a ...promotion so to speak." 

Nicole had yet to decide whether this was indeed wonderful news or not, but the part of her brain that was seeking some kind of thrill made that decision for her when Cassandra leaned in close to her ear, lips tantalizingly close to the skin. 

"Congratulations, from now on you're only working with me in the dungeons." 

Cassandra didn't want to kill her did she? She did say that Nicole was intriguing to her and therefore the redhead was somewhat safe from ending up on one of the autopsy tables herself. At least that's what she told that part of her mind still somewhat concerned about self preservation that was screaming at how risky her next move was. 

She gingerly placed her hands on the brunette's hips, tilting her head in a way not unlike Cassandra did mere moments ago. 

"Does that mean I get to teach you proper autopsy technique?" 

Thankfully that got a chuckle out of her, moving back just enough to be able to look into Nicole's green eyes. "Assuming you manage to keep your tongue long enough." 

She couldn't do much more than let out a soft laugh at the absurdity of her situation. There she was, in the garden of a castle in the middle of nowhere with the Lady's sadistic daughter mere inches from her. She decided that at that point in her life if she was going to die, she may as well go out in style, and what on earth could top falling for one of the most dangerous women in a village full of horrors. She shifted her hand slightly, bumping into the handle of the sickle strapped to Cassandra's waist. 

"May I?" She said barely above a whisper, fingers wrapping loosely around the weapon. 

Cassandra gave her an incredulous look, trying to understand what on earth she could want with the weapon. She was aware she couldn't hurt her right?

A small shrug was all the permission Nicole needed. She undid the leather strap that kept the sickle in place and moved back only a bit. Enough to step on the small bench and lift herself. She felt Cassandra's hands placed on her waist for support, almost mimicking the gentleness of Nicole's touch from earlier, when she raised herself on her tiptoes. She took hold of one of the roses above them -a yellow one- and with a quick swipe she cut the stem. The brunette watched her take her sweet time scraping off any thorns before her hood was taken off and that same rose was now placed in her dark wavy hair, right above her left ear. 

"Mm… it matches your eyes. And necklace," Nicole added, bending down to return the sickle to its rightful place. 

Cassandra crashed their lips the next second, her hands pulling Nicole closer from where they were placed on her hips. After a second of shocked stillness, the kiss was returned, their lips tentatively sliding against each other. "Tentatively" didn't last long however, as Cassandra pushed forward, pressing the her against the stone wall behind them eliciting a small moan from Nicole, who's hand ended up tangled in black locks. She tugged on them slightly once she finally needed to breathe and Cassandra pulled back only a bit. She let their foreheads rest against each other and felt Nicole's soft laugh on her lips. 

"Do you even need to breathe?"

"No," the brunette answered simply. 

Nicole blinked in confusion, not expecting her half joke to turn out truthful but before she could speak, Cassandra took a hand off her waist and pulled something out of a pocket. 

"Here," she pushed a familiar looking object into the redhead's hands. 

"Y...Your key to the dungeons?" She was still trying to get her thoughts organized into some sort of coherence when Cassandra rolled her eyes. 

"It's a copy. So I don't have to escort you every time you come down there, which," she added with a gloved finger brushing against her lower lip, "is gonna be more frequent now." 

Nicole nodded, not really trusting her words. She didn't need any though, as Cassandra simply pushed herself off the wall and turned on her heels to leave. 

"See you tomorrow at dawn." 

And with a smirk, she broke into a swarm of flies and disappeared down the stony path.

[cafedanslanuit]

sometimes ending a relationship is the only way to help each other. at least that’s what you tell yourself on your way back home to your fiancé.

♡   —   pairing: reiner braun x reader / zeke jaeger x reader (mentioned but not described)

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, suggestive but not explicit, cheating, angst, canon compliant, toxic relationships (not romanticized)

♡   —   a/n: heavily inspired by miley cyrus’ ‘angels like you’, hence the title.

♡   —   length: 2.2k

♡   —   masterlist

Liberio at night was never a pretty sight.

As you walked home, you noticed all the small details you never took the time to see. The puddles of sewer water on the streets, the stench of urine in the corners close to bars and the sound of rats running around, too afraid to come in the light. Your thighs hurt every step you gave and you couldn’t ignore the burning sensation between your legs. Memories of grunts and your nails digging on a man’s back flooded your mind, making you shake your head in a vague attempt to get rid of them.

You knew well you couldn’t ever get rid of them.

You thought of everything that led you to Zeke’s office late that night. Of course, it was about delivering some documents that could have been delivered the next morning and staying for a cigarette even if you had quit smoking years ago. And before you knew it, Chief Jaeger was fucking you on his desk, your legs around his waist, his forehead pressing to your shoulder and his hands grabbing your ass as he roughly pounded against you.

You wished there was a part of yourself that truly believed you didn’t know this was coming, that you hadn’t let your skirt rile up when you crossed your legs neither smiled bashfully at Zeke’s compliments about how beautiful you looked that night. You wished there was a part of you that was really attracted to him, a part of you that really wanted him to fuck you seneseless and leave you a sweating mess over his desk as he pulled up his pants.

But you knew better than that.

You opened the door to your small house, not bothering in turning on the lights. Maybe this was for the best, you told yourself. It was the best decision you could make. Well, it had to be, or else you had broken a man without a purpose.

On your way to your bedroom, you noticed a new framed photo on the wall, making you stop in your tracks. You remembered taking it a little more than a week ago and you figured it must have been delivered while you were gone. Reiner, his mom and you were smiling at the camera and if you hadn’t known both Brauns as much as you did, you could have sworn their smile was genuine.

Your eyes fixated on Reiner’s soft expression, one of his hands on your shoulder and the other one over his mom’s. He had barely talked to you since returning from his long mission in Paradis, refusing to answer any of your questions regarding how he was feeling or what had happened during the years he was gone. Reiner had never been one to share too much. You still remembered how long it took him to tell you the truth about his absent father on an Autumn afternoon, his face pressed on your thighs, his shoulders shaking violently as he told you the truth that had been tormenting him for years. You were twelve, just one year older than him, yet you listened and ran your fingers through his blond locks, trying to comfort him the best way you knew. Four years passed by and every night you would pray for his safety and that he would return to you. You knew he was a warrior and that he was good at what he did but you couldn’t fight the feeling that you just wanted him to rest. 

The first time you saw Reiner after his mission in Paradis, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. No matter how tightly Reiner held you, assuring you he was in fact there and that it wasn’t another one of your dreams. He was hurried by his mother to leave you and go back to his home, which he did, not before asking you to meet him at your spot at midnight.

Reiner was your first kiss. And how happy you were that you had waited for him.

As short-lived as your romance was before he had to leave for war again, you couldn’t help but notice the weight over his shoulder had only increased. Only this time, he wouldn’t talk about what he saw or experienced at the island. You tried to be understanding, even if it pained you to see his disassociated eyes look at the horizon whenever he was too much in his head.

Before Reiner went to war, he promised he would marry you when he got back. You had smiled brightly between tears and told him you would wait for him, no matter how long he took. Both of you kept on your promises, with him buying a small house inside of Liberio just for the two of you and you organizing a small but lovely wedding that would happen in a few months.

That was supposed to happen in a few months.

Now you wondered where it was that you lost him. Had a part of him died in Paradis? Had it been the war that had finally sent him over the edge. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that the Reiner sleeping on your bed wasn’t the boy who had cried on your lap anymore.

Not having enough with dancing around your questions about his feelings, he also expected you to act like he wasn’t having nightmares every night. That you didn’t see him sitting up with a panicked expression, covered in sweat. Whenever you tried to reach for him, he would elude your touch, not even caring to acknowledge your questions about what he had dreamt about or how you could help.

He hadn’t shared a word with you after coming back home from your engagement celebration. Even if the whole afternoon he had his arm around your waist and would press kisses on your forehead and temple at any moment, it all went away when he stepped inside your new home.  You still remembered the knot in your throat from when he refused your offer to have some tea on your balcony, just the two of you. Reiner turned to leave so quickly he didn’t notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t know what happened on that island and you probably would never know but you were sure the man who you had been sharing a bed with wasn’t Reiner anymore.

Your eyes looked at Mrs. Braun in the photo, a sour taste filling your mouth. Even if her smile was gentle, you couldn’t easily forget that only a few minutes before the photo, she had told Reiner you were just an orphan trying to profit from his warrior status and that he should break the engagement, that a promise he made when he was sixteen meant nothing. Reiner’s eyes met yours for a brief second and just when you thought he was going to say something to defend you, he lowered his head, continuing to listen to his mother’s yells while she pretended you were not in the same room.

You took the photo off the wall and placed it face down on the table.

Resuming your steps, you stepped into your bedroom. Reiner was sound asleep on your bed, the sheet not big enough to cover his brod, bare shoulders. For a minute, you just watched him sleep, taking in everything you had loved for years about him. From the way his brow creased to the small mole next to his ear, to the way his hair looked when it was messy. You hated the way his image made you smile even as you were about to lose him for good.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the lights on. Reiner’s light sleep was evident when he started blinking a few seconds later, a confused look on his face until his eyes met yours.

"I fucked Zeke tonight."

A truth. You thought it was always easier when you start with one. Reiner stayed still for a moment, his still confused mind trying to process your words. You watched him in silence, waiting for his response. He was never violent so you weren’t afraid but you knew that night everything was going to change.

Reiner passed one of his hands across his hair, letting out a long sigh.

"Okay."

You furrowed your eyebrows. You opened your mouth and then closed it, not believing you had heard him correctly.

"Okay?"

"I just want to sleep," he exhaled, laying his head on the pillow once again and closing his eyes. You took some steps further until you were standing next to him.

"Reiner, I fucked Zeke Jaeger in his office an hour ago."

"Yeah, you just told me," Reiner muttered, his eyes still closed.

That’s when it hit you. You took the sheets covering his body and pulled them away hastily, forcing him to open his eyes.

"Do you really not fucking care!?" you spat, your voice breaking at the end.

For a few seconds, Reiner remained quiet, not an inch of his body moving. You were breathing heavily, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall. It was all coming down to this and a part of you still couldn’t believe this is how you were going to say goodbye. Was he truly the man you had loved for the last ten years? Did you really mean so little in his mind? You watched him sit up on the bed, his honey eyes finally facing yours.

"Of course I care that my fiancée slept with the Chief. Of course, I care, fuck— I hate it. I fucking hate it and I wish I could stop imagining it happening inside my head,” Reiner said, gesturing towards his temple, his voice hoarse and pained. “Because it is. Believe me when I say I keep replaying those thoughts in my head, over and over and over,” he hissed, his lips forming a thin line. “But why— why would I feel entitled to say anything when I'm the one that's been fucking things up with you?" he asked, his palm hitting his chest forcefully.

The tears you promised not to shed were already falling from your eyes, your face twisting in a scowl.

“We're not good for each other. We haven’t been for a while, Reiner. So please, please, lets just— we need to let each other go,” you pleaded.

“It’s not like that, we’re not— fuck,” Reiner sighed, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I am, I just— I can’t,” he choked.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him in a softer voice. Tentatively, you put your hand over his shoulder, rubbing it gently. You saw his body melt under your touch, his left hand immediately reaching for yours in search for comfort. “I’m not what you need right now, Reiner. We’re only hurting each other by playing this long game of pretend. And… I’m tired. I’m so tired,” you cried.

His hand squeezed yours in a vain attempt to calm you down. It only increased the sobs, making you remember all the times he had taken your hand underneath the table whenever he noticed you were anxious in a social gathering or kissed each one of your knuckles, making you laugh even when you had just been crying.

“Guess your mom was right when she told you I wasn’t good enough for you,” you chuckled sadly.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, taking your hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away from his, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“But it’s true. I— I fucked up. I fucked up big time, Reiner. And now… now we’re done,” you breathed out, looking at your shoes. “We can’t just keep pretending everything is fine when—"

"Let's go to sleep.”

You choked on a sob, your eyes snapping back to his. “Reiner,” you whispered.

"I promise we'll talk in the morning. Just come here" he said, shifting on the bed to make space for you. You looked at the sheets, your body not moving a fraction. “Please,” he almost begged, his voice making your heart clench in pain.

You held on his powerful gaze, lips parted in dismay. Both of you stayed in silence for longer than you could register and even if he wasn’t talking, you could recognize the utter necessity of having you close in his eyes, even if he was aware of the lie you had fabricated together. You finally yielded and you looked away, nodding idly as you wiped the tears off your face. Your body and mind had surrendered one more time, just like you told yourself you wouldn’t.

"Let me take a shower first,” you muttered, taking off your coat.

"No," Reiner quipped. You turned to him, confused, and now he was the one to avoid your gaze. "I don't care, just... let's go to sleep.”

Kicking your shoes off, you got into bed with him, his arms around your body feeling so foreign you felt yourself on the verge of breaking down once again. Reiner buried his face on your neck, pretending he didn’t recognize the strong male perfume lingering on your skin, instead massaging the plush of your hips with his thumb softly.

"I love you," he whispered. Your eyes filled with tears once more.

"I love you too," you mumbled back.

You knew you both meant it.

Maybe that's what hurt the most.

[melsworldofmusesarchived]

SHIP MEME Not accepting at this time

KOLE FOR ANA

Does my muse trust yours? Yes.

Does my muse dislike yours? No.

Would my muse kill someone for yours? That...requires some thinking.

Would my muse kill your muse? No, absolutely not. 

Would my muse save yours? Without a second thought. 

Does my muse find your muse attractive? Hell yes.

Is my muse disgusted by yours? No.

would my muse go on a date with your muse? Name the time and place and he’s there.

would my muse kiss yours? Absolutely

would my muse betray yours? No. As much as he has a reputation of being a womanizer, if Kole falls for someone there’s noo cheating, no flirting with other women, nothing. In terms of other kinds of betrayal, that’s also a no. He’s a loyal son of a bitch.

my muse’s favorite thing about yours is: Her smile and her kiss. 

the thing my muse dislikes about yours is: There’s not a lot that he dislikes. Kole tends to try to focus on the traits that attract him to a person. That’s not to say he completely ignores flaws, but he’s not about to judge anyone based on that considering his own faults.

( @dissolvedshadows )

[melsworldofmuses-moved]

❣ - jess and kole (for now)

ATTRACTIONS Currently Not Accepting

from @waydcwnwego

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ | Sexual Attraction ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ | Romantic Attraction ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ | Crushing ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ | Squishing ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ | Sensual Attraction ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ | Aesthetic Attraction

Low ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ High

[mcufox123]

Would you maybe? I don't know

Modern AU WandaxFemReader

Summary: Reader is confused by liking Wanda.

Warnings: PG-13, some cursing

A/N: This is a fun little piece. The group is mentioned but the main focus is the reader. Any suggestions please let me know!

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS!

*****************************************************************************************************

You are a nurse working in Boston. You had moved here right after graduating college and besides working you spend a lot of time with your very close-knit group of friends. The group started with you and Nat who moved into your apartments. A couple weeks after moving in you were at a bar and Nat tried to hit on Steve. He turned out to already have a boyfriend, however, named Bucky. Soon enough it was the 4 of you. Steve was a veteran and worked with other veterans and soon introduced everyone to Sam who brought along his friend from college Tony. Carol and Wanda were next to join they happened to be your next-door neighbors. Carol came over to complain about the noise you and your friends were making, and Wanda came over with apology cookies, that is how your friendship started. Tony also brought along Bruce who was friends with Thor. Clint, Nat’s childhood friend also moved to Boston for his job who also brought his roommate T’Challa. Your group expanded over the course of a year. And now 3 years in you all spent a majority of your time at your apartment.

Nat and Bruce had just started a new relationship and it was nauseating to you. They were often cuddled on the couch when you came home and were definitely not quiet in the bedroom. Living there started to interfere with your sleep schedule. One day while Nat and Bruce were out Wanda and Carol came over to hangout.

“Maybe you should just tell them to shut up?” Carol told you as Wanda and her listened to you whine about your predicament.

“But Nat is finally happy. It took her so long to be this happy, I'm not going to whine to her about it just yet.” You said trying to compartmentalize your thoughts in your head.

“That’s so kind of you Y/N, but what about you? What makes you happy?” Wanda asked in a sweet tone. You and Wanda had grown closer as Nat was preoccupied. You both spent many nights cooking dinner together and cuddling up on the couch watching tv shows, most the time falling asleep on each other. You had a soft spot for her. You considered it to be more than a friendship, but you had never been with a girl to make it more than a thought.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right I’ll talk to her, thanks guys.” Just then Nat comes through the door with a very drunk Bruce.

“Hey guys! Let me just put him to bed then I’m all in for the girl’s night!” Nat said while escorting Bruce to her bedroom.

You opened up another bottle of wine and as soon as she came out, she pulled up a stool to contribute to the conversation. The 4 of you gossiped about almost everyone in the group, company excluded. You talked about Tony’s new girlfriend Pepper and what she started bringing to the group, which was mostly keeping Tony in check. You talked about T’Challa and his advancements in his job and hoping that he didn’t move because of it. You talked about when you think Clint was going to propose to his long-term girlfriend Laura.

“Alright I'm making a group chat without Clint and Laura to take a pool for when he’ll pop the question. $1 buy in.” You sent the text to all of your friends and soon your phone was blowing up.

“Ya know, I don’t know why but you sending that text reminded me of this one time in college when I was at a party and we were playing truth or dare, and I got dared to send a text to our professor saying that I believed that I was a giraffe. He recommended that I seek help.” Carol said wiping her eyes as she laughed. You all stared at her in confusion. The comment being from out of nowhere.

“That’s really a great story, you should tell everyone at movie night.” Nat said sarcastically.

“Hey now, let’s all just get along. Carol that was a random story, Nat she should tell everyone she is a giraffe when she wants.” Wanda let out in an almost serious tone.

“Yeah,” you said backing up Wanda. The night went on a little longer with now 4 empty bottles of wine and a very tipsy group of friends.

“Hey, I have an idea, let’s play truth or dare.” Nat said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Now why would we do that?” you ask very annoyed. You guys weren’t in college anymore and you had nightmares about the game. You knew the idea was only in her head because of the giraffe story.

“Because it’s fun,” Carol chimed in.

“Thank you, Carol. Now let’s start I’ll go first. Carol truth or dare?” Nat said.

“Dare!”

“I dare you to go flash our neighbors.” Nat said. Carol was not even hesitant, she got up walked to the window and lifted her shirt to flash the outside world, before walking back like she had just accomplished a huge task. You rolled your eyes as the game continued.

The game continued with a few more rounds all being very stupid tasks. Nat was currently in the room with Bruce giving him a lap dance with the door closed. She walked out with her hair a mess.

“Ok my turn. Y/N truth or dare?” She asked fixing herself back on her seat. You were very tipsy by this point.

“Dare!” you said very enthusiastically. You were not prepared for the task you were asked to do.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.” You froze. The obvious choice was Wanda, but you couldn’t do that. Could you? You for sure weren’t going to kiss Nat because that’s weird, and you always secretly disliked Carol so that was out of the question. The only logical choice was Wanda. You hesitantly leaned over to give Wanda a kiss on the cheek. As you pulled away you saw her cheeks were as red as tomatoes causing you to also start to blush.

“Boo that wasn’t even a kiss.” Nat groaned on.

“Yes, it was. You never specified what kind of kiss it had to be!” you counteracted Nat.

“I thought you would just assume it was a kiss kiss like on the lips like an actual kiss.” She argued back. Carol and Wanda just kept looking at the two of you unsure of what was happening.

“You want a kiss kiss? I will give you a kiss kiss.” You turned to Wanda and put your lips on hers with all of the liquid courage you had built up. You heard her gasp at the action but soon was reciprocating the kiss. Her lips were so soft and perfect, and you felt electrical shocks go throughout your body at the interaction. Your lips moved in perfect sync with each other. You only pulled away when you heard Carol wolf whistle at the two of you.

You felt embarrassed as your cheeks started to turn red. Wanda just looked at you stunned by the action. There was an awkward silence before you spoke up. “Wanda I’m sorry that was, that was,” you couldn’t find the right words. “Ya know what it’s pretty late and I’m getting sleepy I’m going to head to bed.” You said not looking at anyone in particular. You stood up and walked to your room.

“Y/N wait.” You heard Wanda say behind you, you just shut the door behind you and locked the door crawling into bed.

The next morning you woke up and walked to the kitchen to get breakfast. Nat was already out there, and you saw waffles, pancakes, sausage, bacon, toast and eggs all spread out on the table. You ignored all of that and simply walked to the coffee pot.

“I made you breakfast, also there is freshly squeezed orange juice, with no pulp.” She said pouring you a glass. You didn’t even acknowledge her. Instead grabbed the box of cheerios from the cabinet with your coffee and heading back to your room. Before you could close the door Nat put her foot in the door.

“Look, Y/N, I'm sorry about last night I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just I thought you both liked each other, and I figured I’d give you a little nudge ya know? Be a good friend?” She said while you continued to walk to your bed and get your laptop out to watch Netflix.

“Ok well you were wrong. I don’t know what to tell you.” You said trying to convince yourself more. In all honesty you haven’t stopped thinking about the kiss. You had thought about Wanda’s lips from the moment they left yours. And the way that she kissed you back. That had to mean something right? Like maybe she felt the same way for you. But you weren’t sure you liked girls. But maybe you did? Maybe Wanda could be your girlfriend. That was weird for you to even think about having a girlfriend. You were so confused.

Nat saw your internal turmoil by look on your face. “What’s wrong Y/N?” she asked concern clear on her face.

“I never liked a girl before.” You said staring at your hands. You couldn’t even look her in the eye. You were so scared saying it out loud. But it was true and now you felt like you did like a girl. A very specific girl, who had beautiful reddish hair and green eyes that pierced your soul. She had the best laugh where her nose would scrunch up and she always tried to make everyone feel better.

“Y/N, its ok. You are allowed to like girls, especially ones who make you happy. You’re allowed to like Wanda as more than a friend. A friend would not kiss another friend on a dare the way you kissed Wanda last night.” She said rubbing your back.

“I know I just, she’s just, and I'm just.” You tried to explain failing to find the words.

“Talk to her, let her know. She’s a pretty understanding person and I think she could help you.” Nat said before giving your arm one last squeeze. “Also come eat my breakfast, I cooked too much food.” She said while getting up and moving to the door.

“Can you bring it to me please? I'm super comfy right now.” You asked with pleading eyes.

“Yeah sure.” She said while walking out of the door to get you breakfast.

You spent a lot of time that day writing in your journal and watching tv, the perfect lazy day. You didn’t see much of your friends that week. You took on more shifts at the hospital and stayed in on call rooms to avoid thinking about your friend who you couldn’t keep out of your head. You thought if you just stayed away, it would all go away and be ok.

You came home one day exhausted and just went right to bed. When you woke up you opened your door to go to the kitchen, but you stopped as your eyes landed on a specific pair of green eyes staring back at you. You were frozen in your spot. The person you had tried to get out of your head was now sitting on the couch in your house. “Want to watch a movie?” She asked like nothing had happened. Like everything that happened that one night didn’t happen. It frustrated you that she was so calm about all of this while you were losing sleep. You continued to walk to the kitchen to get food before answering.

“Sure, you want any snacks?” you asked her.

“Yes please! Can I have some popcorn?” you started to get the popcorn out and put it in the microwave and then went to get out a bowl to put it in. There was a silence that came again and stayed there. The only sound was the kernels popping in the microwave. You looked at your hands while you could feel Wanda staring at you.

When the popcorn was finished you dumped the bag in the bowl and walked over to give it to Wanda who was sitting on the couch. You would usually sit on the same couch as her but tonight decided to opt for the love seat. You didn’t even look at her, but Wanda had a frown at your choice of seats. You kept your eyes trained on the tv waiting for the movie to start but it never did.

“What is it Y/N? Why are you in such a mood?” she asked.

“I’m not in a mood. Why do you say that?” you asked her, knowing it was stupid because you were in a mood and she could read you better than anyone, even Nat.

“Yes, you are. If you weren’t in a mood, I would’ve seen you this week. If you weren’t in a mood, you would tell me all about work and how crazy it is, and we wouldn’t even get to start the movie. If you weren’t in a mood, you would be sitting on this couch with me probably with your feet draped over my legs. Why aren’t you sitting with me?” She was aggravated you could tell but you didn’t know how to answer that.

“I don’t know.” You said which only made her get up and start pacing in frustration.

“God, Y/N, you’re so frustrating just say it we all know why you’re in a mood.” She said now standing directly in front of you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It seems like you know why I am in a mood more than I do so tell me why.” You said to her not having the courage for the words that needed to be said. You quickly regretted saying that. She climbed onto your lap, so her eyes were directly in front of yours. She put her arms around your shoulders so there was no way to escape. You suddenly couldn’t focus on anything other than how close your faces were.

“You do know Y/N. It’s because there is something here, with you and me. That kiss that we shared was incredible and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, or you. So why are you pushing me away.” You couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I never kissed a girl before, and I just didn’t know I could feel this way about someone until we kissed. And I just wasn’t sure if it was ok for you.” You said giving her the basic train of your thoughts.

“You weren’t sure if it was ok for me? Did I not communicate that enough in the kiss or do I have to show you how ok it was for me?” she asked. You sat there frozen as she leaned in and put her lips on yours again not even waiting for permission. You tensed up at first, but after a second you were quick to reciprocate how right this felt for you too. Her hands were playing with your hair and yours on instinct went to her hips trying to pull her closer.

She pulled away when you did that. “I thought you weren’t sure Y/N? Do we have to keep figuring this out?” she asked while pretending to make a confused face.

“Yeah, I think we can keep figuring this out.” You said while leaning up to kiss her again. She pulled back again though.

“Are you sure you’re, ok? We don’t have to do anything. I’m ok with taking this slow.” She said looking at you, reading your face for any signs of being uncomfortable.

“I just really want to kiss you again.” This time you spoke the truth.

“Then kiss me.” You didn’t even hesitate leaning in again, placing your lips on hers. It quickly got heated as she pushed you back further onto the couch. You didn’t try to fight back, you only continued to move your hands all over her body, exploring places you never would dare before.

Her lips left yours and started to leave a trail going lower down your face till she started sucking on your neck. You let out a moan and felt her smile against your skin. All of your earlier thoughts, questioning if this was right were out the window now. With her in your arms everything felt right.

She came back to your lips where your tongues were soon dancing together. You didn’t even hear Nat and Bruce come in the door. You only pulled away when you heard a cabinet close in the kitchen. You looked over your shoulder to see them both staring at you and Wanda.

“Don’t stop on our account we’re just grabbing some snacks for the show.” Nat said smugly. Wanda buried her face in your neck, clearly embarrassed, as were you. She climbed off of you and walked into the kitchen.

“Ha ha very funny Nat.” Wanda said while walking over to grab some water. You sat up on the couch eyes trained on the girl with reddish hair. Her hair was disheveled from the heated make out session, and her lips were already swollen a little.

“It’s so good to finally see my roomie after a week of being MIA.” She said while smiling at you.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You said as you rolled your eyes. You finally got up from the couch to sit on a stool in the kitchen. You weren’t sure what would happen next. Wanda came over however and picked the seat right next to you scooting it closer, so she was basically on top of you, which you weren’t complaining about. It had only been a few minutes, but you already missed her being in such close proximity to you.

The four of you stayed up chatting before Bruce and Nat decided to go to bed, claiming they had a long day tomorrow. As they walked out you turned to Wanda smiling.

“Hi,” you said with a smile spreading across your lips.

“Hi,” she said back just as smiley, reaching her arms around your shoulders as she had done earlier that night.

“Would you maybe, I don’t know, mind if I kissed you again?” you said shyly. She didn’t even answer before bringing her lips to your again. The action that was so foreign before was now becoming addicting. The kiss this time was short however before she pulled away.

“Would you maybe, I don’t know, want to be my girlfriend? If not, I totally understand if it’s too fast for you.” You just brought your lips to hers as your answer. You pulled away and simply took her hand in yours before guiding her to your room.  You made out but that was it nothing went any further. You just laid in the comfort of each other’s arms for the rest of the night.

In the morning you woke up with a smile on your face and an amazing girl in your arms. You got up to go get some coffee for the two of you in the kitchen. You walked out to see none other than Nat and this time Steve too.

“Hey there Y/N! Do anything fun last night?” Steve asked with a smile on his face. Nat had already told him.

“You’re dead Romanoff.” You said while pouring a cup of coffee.

“Oh, come on Y/N! I can’t help it if you guys are adorable together. Steve, you should’ve seen them last night they were like connected at the hip the entire night.”

“I can’t wait till the rest of the group finds out. Bucky, Sam, and Tony, all owe me $15.” Steve said nonchalantly.

“What do you mean they owe you money?” you asked confused by the statement.

“Well, you guys were already inseparable, and I figured it was a matter of time before you both got together so I made a pool of when it would happen. I said before the end of the month which happened, so I win.” He said it like it was obvious.

“Yeah, you guys couldn’t get together like a week earlier?” Nat asked annoyed.

“Hey now, no more betting on my love life, ok? Or else next time I want in.” you said cheekily.

“Well now, there is a pool when the two of you will sleep together, you want in on that?” Steve said.

“They almost did last night believe me.” Nat jumped in before you could argue. Just then Wanda came out of your room with a yawn. Steve and Nat just whipped their heads to look at you with ‘oh shit’ eyes.

Wanda came over and wrapped her arms around your waist before reaching up to give you a kiss. You melted into her before she pulled away “Morning cutie.” She said before taking the coffee out of you hand and going to sit next to Steve who was still shocked that Wanda just exited your room.

“You do not mess around. Damn Y/N” Nat said with a mischievous grin.

“Ok Nat, it took you what like an hour before you jumped Bruce’s bones.” You counteracted. That shut her up real fast as Wanda looked around clearly confused by the conversation she had missed. After that night you and Wanda were the next couple in the group. Everyone supported you guys and soon enough you got your own place together to watch movies together.

[sincerelyasomebody]

Two Became Three || Johnny "Coco" Cruz & Leticia "Letty" Cruz

(GIF: @angels-reyes)

A/N: With the awesome response for Mama, I decided to write up a "pre-Mama" setting. I hope you all enjoy it! If I'm being honest this Cruz family dynamic is likely to become a series of sorts👀. Because these two deserve so much more😭😫. Coco and Johnny are used interchangeably. If the Spanish translations are incorrect, please let me know. 

Characters/Pairings: Coco x Reader (romantic partnership) ▪︎ Letty x Gabby (friendship) ▪︎ Gabby x EZ (mentioned) ☆ Bishop (mentioned) ▪︎ Chucky (mentioned) ▪︎ Mayans MC (mentioned)

Summary: The start to a wonderful, dysfunctional yet endearing family. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, language 

Word Count: 1829

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

The living room was becoming (Y/N)'s personal race track as she continuously walked around the coffee table in the centre. Her eyes would dart between the landline and her phone. She tried to calm herself down, but the 'what ifs' going off in her mind wouldn't allow her to do so. The familiar rumble of Cocos truck stopped her pacing as she jumped onto the couch. Pulling the edge of the curtain up, she was momentarily blinded by the headlights flashing at her. 

Once she spotted the teenager in the passenger side, she let out a sigh of relief. (Y/N) readjusted her body on the couch and waited for the pair to walk inside. She braced herself for the argument. 

The front door and screen door opened up with Coco leaning against them, "what the fuck were you thinking, Leticia?" 

"You're overreacting," she replied and headed straight for the kitchen. 

"You were at a college party!" Coco yelled as he slammed both doors, "how the fuck did you even get there?" 

She opened up a cabinet and grabbed a muesli bar, "I… just got there," shrugging her shoulders she tore the bar open, "nothing was gonna happen." 

Coco walked over and stood at the entrance of the kitchen, "carajo! The only reason nothing fucking happened was because I showed up!"

Letty turned her attention to (Y/N), "anything you'd like to add?" When she wasn't given a response, she scoffed, "as if I give a fuck what you think."

She brushed past Coco and walked down the hallway. The slamming of a door let the adults know she was in her bedroom. (Y/N) took a deep breath as she got to her feet and stood in front of her man.

"Don't do it." 

He arched his eyebrow, "you think I'm gonna let her disrespect you like that?" he shook his head and pecked her forehead, "ain't fucking happening." 

Letty had moved in with the pair about two months ago and during that time she took full advantage of being away from the clutches of her grandmother. With her newfound freedom she had been disappearing (or "exploring" as she called it) different parts of Santo Padre whenever she felt like it. Sometimes she'd go off on her own and other times she'd take Gabby. 

Unfortunately, this particular night was different. Gabby was out on a date with her boyfriend Ez (the newest patch member of the Mayans) which meant she didn't join Letty on her excursion. Thankfully she was able to provide the details of where to find her when (Y/N) called her in a panic about the teenager not being home. Once she received the details, she thanked her and immediately rang up Coco to inform him of his daughter's whereabouts. 

Before he could make his way to the hallway Coco's burner buzzed. (Y/N) didn't need to read the message to know that he was most likely being told about some club business. Despite it nearing the early hours of the morning, she knew that sometimes Bishop would call an impromptu meeting. 

"At least you're already awake?" (Y/N) offered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands played with his hair.

"I guess," his eyes darted towards the hallway and back at her, "if she ends up running off while I'm at the clubhouse–"

"I'll call you." 

He kissed her and savoured the moment before pulling away from her. Walking over to the front door, he glanced back at her and blew a kiss. (Y/N) chuckled, grabbing it and holding it to her chest, completing their goodbye routine. 

She turned around as he shut both doors and locked them. The moment she heard his bike start up she decided it was time to get to bed. She was due to go back to work in a few hours and wanted to sleep before having to do so. 

-- ♡ -- ◇ --

After Letty's eventful Friday night, Johnny decided he was done giving her chances. Her phone was taken away and the only times she could leave the house was for school and if Chucky needed an extra set of hands. At first the teenager continued to rebel until she realised another day would be added to her punishment. (Y/N) was proud of the way her man was stepping into the role of a parent. Letty was working into her third week of punishment (she had another week left) and (Y/N) could see the change in her. 

Whenever (Y/N) entered the house, she was greeted with a 'hello'. It may seem little, but Letty acknowledging her presence (in a positive manner) definitely kept a smile on her face. Letty was helping around the house more and started joining Coco and (Y/N) for dinner instead of eating in her room. Coco was also seeing changes in his daughter and hoped she would continue to make positive changes. He had left for a run a couple of days ago and would hopefully return soon.

The sound of drawers opening and closing was the reason (Y/N) woke up. Her eyebrows furrowed at realising she wasn't in her bed and then remembered she had fallen asleep while watching (television show). Looking to her left, she noticed the outline of the teen moving about. She smiled when she felt the softness of a blanket, realising Letty must've thrown it over her. Slowly getting to her feet, she stretched and reached for her phone. The numbers 04:22 blared on her screen.

(Y/N) got up and switched on the light, causing the teenager to jump, "are you looking for the chocolate chip cookies I baked?" Just like her dad, Letty had a sweet tooth. (Y/N) chuckled and pointed towards the top cabinet on her right, "it's in the tin at the back." 

Letty waited for (Y/N) to walk out of the kitchen, but instead the woman opened up the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. She watched as she grabbed two glasses and poured the milk inside. The teenager grabbed the chair and climbed on top of it to reach the cabinet. She opened it up and pushed some items out of the way to grab the tin. Closing the cabinet, she stepped off the chair and dragged it back to the table.

(Y/N) was already sitting at the table and pushed a glass of milk across it for her. Letty took a seat and opened up the container and pushed it between them. She waited for (Y/N) to help herself to a cookie, before grabbing one of her own. 

"I'm sorry for waking you up," the teenager gave a sheepish grin, "I was trying my hardest not to be loud." 

(Y/N) smiled, "it's alright," she bit into her slightly soaked cookie, "now you know where to go… but, you've gotta make sure to put it back in the same cabinet you brought the container out of." 

"Why?" 

"Because then your dad'll know where all the extra cookies are." 

Letty laughed, "you hide the extra cookies because of my dad?" 

"Yes and that cabinet," (Y/N) pointed to it, "is the only one where I can cover the container without anything looking out of place." She dunked her cookie into her glass, "remember that for next time, okay?" 

"Okay." 

The pair continued to munch on their cookies (with the occasional dunking) and sip their milk. (Y/N) enjoyed the comfortable silence that fell among them. Her eyes drifted towards the living room and remembered the blanket. 

"Thank you." 

"For what?" Letty asked.

"Covering me with the blanket." 

"Oh… I… uh, didn't want you to get cold." 

(Y/N) smiled and was about to talk about something else when she heard the rumbling of Coco's motorcycle. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to drink what was left of her milk, closed the container and passed it to Letty. 

"Quick before he comes." 

Letty picked up the tin and dragged the chair to where it was moments ago. She jumped up onto it and pushed the container towards the back of the cabinet. Making sure it stayed hidden behind the assortment of items inside of it. She jumped off the chair and pushed it underneath the table just as Coco entered the living. His eyebrows rose when he took in his Old Lady and daughter standing in the kitchen. 

"What's going on here?" He asked as he walked towards the duo.

(Y/N) chuckled and brought him into a hug, she kissed him on the lips and cheek before stepping back, "just chatting, everyone okay?" 

He nodded, "we all made it back. Don't worry," his attention switched to Letty, "mija, everything okay?" 

Letty nodded, "yeah…" 

Coco slowly approached her and kissed the top of her head, "that's good to hear." 

Before he could move back, the teenager wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. (Y/N) smiled as she watched Coco gently rub her back and kiss her forehead. She loved seeing the father-daughter pair show affection to each other. Letty released her hold and took a step back.

With a blink of an eye, Letty pulled (Y/N) into a hug. (Y/N)'s eyes grew wide at the contact (so did Cocos) and before she could return the gesture, the teenager had let go. Letty smiled at the pair and then turned on her heel to leave the room. (Y/N) watched the teenager disappear around the corner, before she glanced at Coco with a bright smile. She did a little shimmy moving towards him and held onto his arms as she jumped up and down. 

"Coco… she – did you see that? She hugged me! And she smiled! Oh, she's got a beautiful smile," (Y/N) stopped jumping, "wow… I-I can't believe it. I got a hug and a smile, Coco!" 

He laughed as she danced around him, reaching out he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. (Y/N) squealed when his fingers trailed up and down her hip. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head up. Her eyes sparkled with joy. 

Unbeknownst to the pair, Letty had done a U-turn at the end of the hallway. She decided at the last second to ask (Y/N) about something. However, at the sound of excitement she paused and peered around the doorframe. A smile stretched across her face, when she spotted Coco and (Y/N) embracing. She looked away when Coco reached down to grab (Y/N) by the ass and slip his tongue into her mouth.  

"Gross," she shook her head and made her way back down the hallway, "I didn't need to fucking see that." 

Despite the recent image in her mind that she was trying her best to get rid of, the teenager couldn't help but feel as though she finally belonged. 

This was home.

-♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Spanish Translations: 

Carajo - fuck

Mija - girl