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miryum · 2 days ago

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Don't Pity Me, My Princess (Azriel x Reader)

With Azriel as your personal knight, it's getting harder and harder for both of you to ignore your feelings.

Warnings: whole lotta angst. Talk of children and childbirth because royalty need heirs, you know? Az doesn’t have his shadows (even though it was so hard to write him without them) but is still called Shadowsinger. Azriel's mother was abused and there's like, one sentence about it

Word Count: 5k

Azriel had lived at the palace since he was a young boy. His mother had knocked on the servant’s quarters one dark night, begging for someone to take her son. She could handle an abusive husband, but she couldn’t bear her baby boy to suffer the same fate as she did. An old maid took pity on the new mother and agreed to house, clothe, and educate the child. Just before the new mother left, she kissed Azriel’s cheek and whispered his name. “You’ll do good things, my dear. I am so sorry.”

Coincidentally, a couple months later, the Queen gave birth to an infant girl. Princess Y/n was heralded with parades and celebrations, the new heir apparent. Meanwhile, in the servant’s quarters, a baby with a thick head of black hair and small little wings was just learning how to lift his head, staring up at the maids and butlers who saved his life.

Azriel grew up preparing for the life of a knight. He remembered growing up watching the knights train as he played with his own wooden sword. He remembered beating his still-developing wings to try and see over the wooden barrier of the jousting arena. He remembered when the knights first caught sight of him, trying to hack away at a dummy. They teased him at first, but then, just like his entire life, they took pity on him. The next week, Azriel began training as a squire.

It was a long time before he earned his leathers and then his siphons, but the Shadowsinger became a name that was both respected and feared throughout the kingdom. The King sent him on missions all over the continent and Azriel always returned successful. He would fight in the jousts and consistently win. He had maidens and ladies swooning over him, but they weren’t who he yearned for.

That’s why he volunteered, almost a bit too hastily, when the King asked for extra protection over his daughter, Princess Y/n.

Azriel’s mind was filled with you, almost every moment of every day. It couldn’t be healthy, that he was aware of, but having grown up next to you, even if from the shadows, he had forged a deep connection to you.

When he was young, he had hardly noticed the little princess completing her studies. He couldn’t remember a time when he saw her in the halls or at the training ring — which is where he most frequented. But one day, a year or two after he had turned a teen, Azriel had fought in his first joust. In any joust, it was customary for a knight to be sponsored by a lady of the court. A lady usually had a favourite knight she regularly sponsored, so Azriel’s stomach was in a pit when it was time to trot by for potential sponsorship. Who would ever cheer for the newest, youngest knight? Azriel sure could beat a village boy in combat, but he was still the smallest and scrawniest of all of the palace’s knights — if you could even call him that. He could recall his anxiety as if it was yesterday. The way the crowd was cheering, the way his horse’s hooves kicked up dirt underneath, and the way he began to sweat as he tried to sit straight.

And then, as he passed the royal box, you stood. Azriel almost kept his horse trotting by, sure it was a mistake, but when he saw you extract your blue handkerchief, he pulled on the reins. By some fortuity or fortune, your handkerchief was the same colour as his siphon. He had just earned his first one the week prior. Through his metal visor, he stared, wide-eyed, as you reached down and tucked your handkerchief into the folds of his armour. The rest of the court was watching too, but Azriel didn’t see them. He could only focus on the way his heart sped up when you whispered, “good luck.”

You were an utter vision. Azriel was sure that you had chosen him to be your champion because of the closeness in your ages, but your support, even if it was just a piece of cloth you had embroidered, meant the world. He hadn’t won his first joust, or his second, but you kept sponsoring him. Azriel became accustomed to stopping under the royal box and bowing to you before heading to his starting position. Sometimes, especially if it was an important event, you would have a new handkerchief for him, or even some whispered encouragement, but Azriel didn’t need those things as long as he could keep making eye contact with you. And then he started winning. He could still hear your excited screams as his javelin hit his opponent straight on, which gained Azriel the championship. It wasn’t unusual for members of the court to get invested in the jousting, but others found it humorous that you were jumping from your seat to see better. However, you were only a teenager, and they knew you would soon be able to control your emotions.

You had not-so-patiently waited for Azriel to bring his horse back around to the royal box after doing a lap of the stadium. People had thrown flowers and kisses and Azriel had shed his helmet, his cheeks hot from both the exertion and attention. When he saw you, he bowed deeply and handed a flower that someone had thrown to him. It was a small red rose. Your gloved fingers brushed his as you took the flower. His black hair hung over his face as he ducked his head. You made a mental note to have the barber stop by the barracks. “My Princess,” he muttered, head still bowed. “Thank you for choosing me as your champion, all those months ago.”

“Well, Sir Azriel, it certainly paid off, didn’t it?” you replied, smiling down at him. “It’s an honour to have you wear my colours.” You nodded to one of your handkerchiefs that was tucked in the chink of his armour, right above his breast.

That was the past. And now, Azriel had the glorious opportunity to stand in front of the King and Queen, multiple siphons displayed proudly as he suggested his own name for the position of your bodyguard. Your childhood knight was retiring, something everyone thought was best as his wit, speed, and strength declined. That opened up the position. The King and Queen had called for the Shadowsinger’s opinion and he gave it, however biased he was with his feelings. “Your Majesties, I believe that the best thing for this kingdom and your daughter would be if I offered my services.”

“And why is that, Shadowsinger? Wouldn’t you rather be sent on missions and participate in protecting our kingdom?”

“With all due respect, my King, the princess is the face of the kingdom,” Azriel said, a knee pressing against the floor of the throne room. It hurt, yes, but he could handle it if it meant sparing you the pain. “The people love her, but that also means many hate her. There are too many dangers, especially with other kingdoms threatening to encroach on our borders. I would be able to protect the princess, and you and the Queen, more efficiently if I was her personal guard.”

The two monarchs exchanged a look before the Queen nodded. “Very well, then. You’ll assume the position effective immediately. You shall accompany Princess Y/n to events and daily excursions. You’ll be briefed more extensively later this week.”

Azriel nodded and stood. He thanked the King and Queen and hurried out, trying to conceal his budding smile.

“Do you remember all the signals?” you called from your dressing room.

Azriel was standing outside, content to just listen to your voice, but he replied, “yes, my princess.”

“And you’re wearing your dress uniform?”

“Yes, my princess.”

“Are all the other guards as well?”

“Yes, my princess.”

The door then opened and you peeked out. “And are you sick of me asking you senseless questions?” you asked, an apologetic smile on your lips.

“Never, my princess,” Azriel answered softly, eyes holding yours. “Are you almost ready?”

You ducked back into your dressing room, voice floating out again. “Almost. I believe we just need some more hairpins, yes?” Your maid responded in an affirmative and a couple minutes later, the door opened once more. There you stood in a cobalt gown that cascaded down to the floor, hair all done up, and jewellery proudly displayed on your knuckles and upon your collarbone. It didn’t escape Azriel that your dress was the same colour as his siphons.

Azriel had spent years serving under the King and Queen, honing his emotions to be the stoic force he needed to be. But, with you in front of him, he found his resolve cracking. His eyes widened and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“Do I look that horrible, sir?” you teased.

The guard immediately shook his head. “No, my princess. Quite the opposite, in fact. You…” his jaw tensed. “Those princes and dukes will be tripping over their feet.”

As much as Azriel would love to pretend that you were his and he would be the only one accompanying you tonight, he knew that this ball was for a very specific reason, and one he did not like. Your parents needed you wed, and it couldn’t be to him.

Nobility and court members alike knew to avoid Azriel when he was watching you. You were on your fifth dance with the fifth man and Azriel made sure to walk around the dance floor as you moved, always being as close as possible.

The moment Azriel had known he was to be your new personal knight, he had created a series of hand signals for you to use covertly. He was always on the lookout for your well-being and thankfully, there had only been a few times when you had needed to use the hand signals.

Months prior, your parents had held an anniversary ball for their marriage. You were a bit younger, more naive, and Azriel had only been your personal knight for just under a year. He had loved every moment of it, but he couldn’t help but feel a budding sense of anticipatory fear as he saw you twirl around the dance floor carelessly. You had one of your younger cousins in your arms and was spinning them around to their delight. While Azriel wanted to imagine a smaller child in the stead of your cousin, perhaps one with dark hair and your eyes and little wings that replicated his own, he was more focused on the older man that was watching you.

A measly Count from further South, the man looked twice your age and three times as intoxicated. He stayed on the outskirts of the celebration, but the Shadowsinger was not one to miss something.

When the Count approached you after your dance with your cousin, Azriel didn’t intervene. He couldn’t act only on a suspicion that the Count was malicious. And he wouldn’t act without your express approval.

But then he saw you twist the ring on your pointer finger.

When Azriel had first become your bodyguard, you were unsure if you could remember all the signals he had wanted you to memorise. A deeper fear, admittedly, was that he wouldn’t be watching and then unintentionally leave you to your own devices. Azriel was determined, however, to never waive your trust. He immediately came marching in, whispering something meaningless into your ear under the guise of matters only you, the princess, could attend to, and swept you away. A dirty look was thrown to the Count and Azriel made sure never to let you near him again. In fact, the Count was barred from any and all future events.

Meanwhile, you had finished your dance with the nameless suitor and Azriel already had an arm stretched out for you. You took it gratefully, needing a respite from all the men giving you unabashed stares. “I really do hate this,” you said to him as he guided you away. “I don’t see why they’re even letting me choose my husband if he will be from this very specific pool of men. At this point, it would be easier to simply betroth me to whomever they see fit.”

“You know my feelings on that, my princess,” Azriel replied. “And I’m sure your parents feel the same. They wish for you to have some sort of semblance of choice and happiness.” Even if it is not with me, the man who would worship you.

You sighed and looked down at your feet. “I know, good sir. But it’s tiring, as I’m sure you can realise. I’d much rather be in my room, engaging in the arts or taking a nap.”

Azriel couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh, one that drew your lips up into a brilliant smile. “Yes,” he agreed. “I’m sure you would.” He paused and then looked down at you. You looked so perfect on his arm and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep you there. “Here’s a proposition: if you survive the rest of this evening, I will dance with you.”

Your eyes immediately light up and Azriel swore the stars themselves burned brighter, pledging their allegiance to you. God, you were like ambrosia in his veins and how he wished for it to keep flowing. “Really?” you gasped. Azriel had been very conservative in his dances, even though, unbeknownst to you, he would dance on forever if you asked. But whenever he held you in his arms, it was too intoxicating. Too dangerous. He was still the Shadowsinger, even if he was sworn to protect you. The hands he held you with had been the notorious cause for so much pain. The thought of telling you about his past missions… It scared him more than imaginable. Those memories were ones best kept locked away within the shadows. He didn’t want you to think of the people he’s hurt – of the suffering he had caused – when you looked at him.

So all he did was nod back, smiling the soft look only you could bring out.

The night slowly wore on, the candles flickering over the walls, bidding the departing guests farewell. And still you stayed. Even as the moonlight rose above the windows and the maids and butlers slowly began cleaning up, you stayed. Only the musicians remained as Azriel led you to the middle of the floor. There was an unspoken trust between you and the musicians, knowing they wouldn’t tell your parents (who had already gone to bed) about your singular, last dance with your knight.

Easily, you placed your hand on his shoulder and Azriel’s palm flexed on the small of your back. The way your dress swished softly was a small distraction from the thoughts swirling in Azriel’s mind. He drew your joined hands closer to his chest as he thought back to how you danced with those other men. As if you knew he needed comfort, you stepped closer to Azriel, resting your head on his chest and eyes closing with exhaustion. His arms automatically wrapped around you, holding you tightly – almost protectively – as he let his cheek rest on your hair. His eyes softened and he murmured, “tired, my princess?”

“Over a multitude of things,” you replied.

Azriel tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek. “A multitude of things?”

“I almost wish I didn’t have to marry,” you admitted. “It’s not as easy as it seems in the stories. I need to take alliances into consideration and the happiness of my people. Along with wealth, resources, and good blood. My feelings hardly add into the equation, even though I want them too.” You then shook your head and changed the subject, a teasing smile on your lips. “Has anyone complimented your wings before?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“No,” he responded, a bit hoarsely. “No one has.”

You hummed and shook your head. “They should.” Your eyes trailed down to your intertwined hands before giving his palm a small squeeze. His burn scars marred his skin, contractures stretching over his hands and arms and small keloids by his wrists and creeping up to his elbows. Azriel winced slightly at the pressure of your hand on his scarred skin, memories of the pain flooding back. He tried to hide it, not wanting to ruin the moment, but a flicker of discomfort crossed his features. You instantly lifted your hand slightly to give him reprieve. Azriel wished for the contact back, but he knew he was the one to blame for the lack of touch. He was the one to make you flinch away.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, trying to bring the conversation back to his wings. "You’re the first.”

“I’m privileged then,” you murmured as he spun as the music lilted. “Though it truly is a pity.”

As you spun around, Azriel's wings extended instinctively, the iridescent membranes catching the moonlight. He held you close, ensuring your balance, and for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to revel in the beauty of his own wings. They were a part of him, and something he couldn’t imagine living without. He watched you longingly as you twirled in his arms. His eyes followed the movement of your gown as you twirl. When he had you pressed close to him once again, he replied quietly, “is it really a pity, my princess?”

“They should’ve been complimented — all of you should’ve been complimented a thousand times before now,” you corrected yourself quickly, thumb sweeping over his hand where yours was placed on top of his. “You don’t see how amazing you are because you hide behind your scars and memories. But you’re the best knight I’ve had.”

The words carved him open deeper than any blade, striking into the insecurities he held. The sincerity in your voice and the gentle touch of your thumb on his hand made something in his chest ache. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. The idea of all of him being complimented, rather than just specific parts or aspects, such as his fighting ability, was a foreign concept. He glanced down at you, eyes filled with sereness. “All of me?” he asked quietly, his voice rough.

You nodded with a caring, hopeful smile on your face. Maybe he would finally see how sensational he was.

Eventually, you came to a stop, standing in the middle of the room. The musicians finished their song and quietly packed up, leaving. Yet, you and Azriel were still in each other’s arms. Azriel continued to hold you, savoring the moment. He relished being able to hold you like this, without anyone else around.

“Do you truly pity me?” he wondered.

You shook your head. “No,” you whispered out. “I would never be able to pity the man who devoted his life to me. I would never be able to pity the man who devotes himself to me. And I don’t think I have it in me to pity the man whom I truly care for.”

For a brief moment, he stood rigid, unused to such easy affection. Then, his wings unfurled slightly, wrapping around you both like a cocoon, shielding you from the world outside. “As I you, my princess,” he allowed himself to say, scared that if anything more were to come from his mouth, it would be a declaration of unwanted love.

“Will you ever call me anything else?” you couldn’t help but tease, looking up at him.

Azriel smiled back down at you, hazel eyes warm with love. “No, my princess.” The night was silent, but Azriel didn’t want to be. His lips parted to tell you something, but when your eyes darted down to them, he found himself asking, “have I yet praised your dress?”

“You have,” you laughed. “But it’s kind of you to do it again. I wanted to match you, you know?” You reached down and pulled your dress to the side to reveal a glittering sheen of fabric under the thick cobalt fabric.

Azriel’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Beautiful, princess,” he admired sincerely once again. “It’s an honour to have you wear my colours.” He repeated the words you had said to him all those years ago.

“I’ll always wear your colours,” you replied. “You’re my knight, after all. Ever since I was young.” Your hand slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck, thumb brushing against his skin and along the hair by the nape of his neck.

The Shadowsinger couldn’t contain his shiver. “Must you, my princess?” he breathed out, voice rough.

“Must I what?”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut and his head dipped down, nose brushing against your forehead. “Must you marry some duke or prince?”

It took you a while to respond and Azriel’s heart only beat faster each second that passed. “No,” you admitted quietly. “But my parents would like it. They won’t have me marry a commoner, but… I could very well marry a knight.”

“Princess…” Every part of his soul seems to be reaching out, grasping for you. His grip tightened slightly, holding you against him as if he feared you would be ripped. His hands trembled slightly as they remained on your waist. There was a vulnerability in his eyes – a desperate need for confirmation that the words you said were real. “Do not give me hope if you plan on tearing it away. It is too cruel of you.”

“So it’s true,” you muttered. “You have feelings for me?”

“I am not brave like you,” he instead said. “I’ve been your loyal knight for years, my princess. But I couldn’t bear to make myself a liability to your heart. I couldn’t do that to you. I care what others think of me, as much as I hate it. They cannot pity me, I cannot have it so.”

You shook your head sadly. “Sir, they do not feel sorry for you. No one does, especially not me. You’ve protected me for so long, you’ve more than earned your place here by my side. This isn’t some fanciful notion born of youthful indiscretion. You and I both know that. This is a mature, considered love that, hopefully, you feel too.” Your voice cracked as you continued and tears shone in your eyes. Oh, how Azriel hated to be the one to cause you such pain. “My love for you, as you are, flaws and all, is why I adore you so deeply.”

The man couldn’t bring himself to say anything. What did one say when the love of their life confessed feelings?

You couldn’t see the way he gazed down at you, almost lovingly. You stubbornly kept your cheek on his chest, trying to minimise the way your cheeks heated up. Why wasn’t he saying anything? But you were already so far in, so you couldn’t help but whisper, “you would do most anything for me, correct, good sir?”

“Within a heartbeat.”

“Do you mind if I demand something from you?” you asked.

Azriel chuckled softly at your question, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. He tilted his head curiously as his fingers traced small circles on your lower back. “What did you have in mind, my princess?” he asked, his voice low. “I'm curious now... What could possibly entice you enough to make a deal with the devil himself?”

“Oh, the devil himself?” you repeated, shaking your head as you laughed softly. Somehow, he always managed to make you feel better, no matter the embarrassment that coursed through you. “Is that what you truly think of yourself?” You smiled up at him, not answering his question as you tried to find the courage to do so. Finally, you whispered out, “a kiss.”

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your whispered confession. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, hardly believing what he heard. He could feel his heart skip a beat, like a leaf in the wind. You looked so small in his strong arms, so hopeful. “Is that all you would ask for?” he finally managed to ask. His wings twitched a bit.

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah. That’s what I would demand.”

He stared down at you, taking in every detail of your face - the slight parting of your lips, the wide-eyed gaze, the flush creeping up your neck. He could feel the tension between you, thick and electric, like the air before a storm. His hand slid up your back, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. Gently, his fingers tangling in your hair. “Just a kiss,” he repeated, his voice a low rasp. “Nothing more?”

“Ignorant knight,” you whispered out once, laughing.

“Is that still what you want?” he asked again desperately. His heart hammered in his chest so hard it made him dizzy. His eyes traced over your face over and over again.

“Oh, Shadowsinger,” you muttered, shaking your head in amusement. You reached up and cupped his face in your palms. “Why won’t you kiss me?” You reached up on your tiptoes before slowly connecting your lips.

Azriel had been struck by lightning. Every nerve ending in his body came alive, sending sparks of pleasure through him. He stood frozen for a heartbeat, scarcely able to believe what was happening. Then, with a low groan, he melted into the kiss. His hand came to cup your face tenderly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss. He poured all his pent-up longing and affection into it, trying to convey without words just how much you mean to him.

From the sheer intensity of it, your knees weakened under you, but Azriel quickly wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you securely against his chest. You tilted your head and it felt like a dream. But he didn’t need to wake up because you were real. You were there, loving him fully and kissing him sweetly.

Azriel laid in bed, body and wings curled around the smaller form. His eyes blinked slowly, gazing down reverently at the infant. The baby had small wings that were almost exact to Azriel’s own. They had made the birth difficult and Azriel had been about ready to break down the door when he heard your screams. He hadn’t been allowed in the room, even though you had begged for him. Your cries had brought him to his knees and replaced the nightmares about his past missions with ones of your sobs.

Nevertheless, you had accomplished the horrible feat and Azriel had rushed into the room. He had first checked up on you, hands and anxieties flying about, kisses being placed on the skin that he could reach. Then he saw his little son, whom he now held in his arms.

You had recuperated over the months, but it never got old to Azriel to hold his child. It never got old to hold you either. The moment he had gotten his child in his arms, so unbelievably worried about doing harm to him as he had done harm to so many others in his past, Azriel had asked for another.

You had almost thrown him out of the room.

That first night, Azriel had held both you and child close to his bare chest, for the midwives had said that skin-to-skin contact was best. For the next few weeks, Azriel hardly put on a shirt (which you didn’t complain about), so it got normal to see the ex-knight pressing his son against his chest as he walked around the castle, as if giving the newborn a tour. The baby’s head fit perfectly in Azriel’s palm and more often than not, he would look up at his father with wide eyes that were so much like his mother’s, reaching out to grab at Azriel’s chin or wings.

The Shadowsinger had yet to be thrust into the life of King, for your parents hadn’t passed on, but for that he was grateful. It gave him more time to spend with his wife and child.

There was the creak of a floorboard and Azriel looked up to see you entering your shared bedroom. A smile instantly broke out on his face. “There’s my wife,” he murmured, reaching out with his hand that was adorned by the perfect ring. Its twin sat on your own finger. “My princess.” The words had such a sweeter connotation now.

“Husband,” you replied, having yet to get used to that word. You took his hand, and with a smile of your own, crawled into bed next to your son. “How are my two favorite Shadowsingers doing?”

“Oh, he shall not need that title,” Azriel hummed. “It’s much too dangerous for our little boy.”

“And what would you rather propose?”

Azriel gazed down at the small child, a hand ghosting over the boy’s thick patch of dark hair. “That’s for him to decide,” he finally said. “He will be able to make his own name and title and we will love him whichever path he chooses.”

After some blissful moments passed, you allowed some words to tumble from your mouth. “Are you happy, my love?”

“Of course.” He looked up at you, concerned eyes snapping away from the babe. “Why do you ask? Do you doubt my love for you?”

You shook your head, smiling. Your voice was quiet, worried about stepping over a line. But if almost two years of marriage had taught you anything about Azriel, it was that he never held secrets from you. “No, never. I just remember how, before we were wed, you were certain that everybody pitied you. I was wondering, do you still think they do?”

“No,” your husband replied, eyes soft as he looked over at you. “Why would they? My entire world is here with me now. I hardly need anything else.”

Thank you so much for reading! This is my first ACOTAR fic so I hope I did Azriel justice. 😊 I wanna thank @pellucid-constellations for writing amazing Azriel fics and getting me into ACOTAR in the first place and just being amazing. (Also @illyrianbitch for posting today and giving me the excitement to post for Az) 😁

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soleminisanction · 2 days ago

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Okay I'm sorry this post is like a year old but it's been going around lately and it's driving me nuts because it's just wrong.

The storyline with Jericho was the first thing that happened in Teen Titans 2003. Bart's knee shot happened in issue 2. Jason's tower invasion happens in issue 29. That's over two years later. They didn't happen one after another.

The following storylines happened in between that time:

Brother Blood came back again, and put Raven back in a physical body.

The whole thing with Tim leaving Robin for several months, which led into War Games.

Beast Boy lost and regained his powers, and also had a whole miniseries to himself.

The entire original Titans Tomorrow storyline, which took the better part of a year.

Identity Crisis, and Tim's dad dying.

Cassie's secret identity getting exposed, I'm pretty sure.

The reason the Titans are standing around going, "Golly this just happened," is because they had just wrapped up Teen Titans/Outsiders: The Insiders, the crossover storyline where Luthor activated the sleeper gene in Superboy and sent him rampaging through Titans Tower. Y'know, the one where he broke Tim's arm and beat the shit out of Cassie and Bart. That's what they were talking about, not Jericho, he was old news by then.

It will never stop being funny to me that the Titan's Tower incident between Jason and Tim happened right after fucking Jericho did the exact same thing but was way, WAY scarier about it.

JERICHO repeatedly attacks them, endangers civilians, possesses multiple people, is out of his head with rage and sorrow at feeling expendable and feeling like teen vigilantism was what got him and Donna killed. Hell he even shoots Bart through the leg, which fucks him up so bad he has to go through unanesthetized surgery and that trauma prompts a whole ass character growth spurt! Jericho both while possessing Slade and when they fight him in Raven's mind trap thing is like seriously bad news! He's playing for keeps and intent on really hurting them! It takes a full team effort over multiple comics to trap the guy

Then fucking JASON sneaks in ever so carefully, knocks a few of them out, feels a bit bad about even doing that, and has like a waffle house parking lot fist fight with Tim in a party city Robin costume. And what's he do afterwards? He just fucking leaves and never bothers them again! He doesn't wanna kill any of them! He's just a sad wet sack who doesn't know what he's doing with himself

The Teen Titans really do gather around Timmy after their fight lookin at that wall like, "Fucking seriously?? This is the second time this week!"

#teen titans 2003 #tim drake #bart allen #kon el #superboy #robin #impulse #Teen Titans #DC #Titans Tower Incident #Joey Wilson #Jericho DC #Jason Todd

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 days ago

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Sorry for the long hiatus. My meds for my bipolar disorder have made it very difficult to have inspiration/motivation for anything aside from normie activities.

Anyways I have a lot planned for this year! Hopefully you guys enjoy these works that have been in the backburner for a while while now. Love yall.

Without further ado, here’s a little drabble/some hcs as appetizers.

YANDERE BATFAM x HAREM! READER

tw/cw: DID coded shenanigans. Multiple Readers converge from my other works. Confusing fuckery. Yun writing without his meds. Featuring @sophiethewitch1 ‘s loser reader from What We Want. Mad Genius! Reader.

inspired by: The Herta (Honkai Star Rail) and a lil Iron Man.

Okay it but wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if Reader gave the boys a harem of their own.

Like perhaps they’re just this immortal genius that creates puppets. Each with its unique personality and looks. But all of them share one thing, a love for their creator and the batfam. (And are all under your control…mostly)

Let’s start with your failures shall we? After all, the most precious thing to a genius like you, is your mistakes. However few or many there are.

You created Cat Villain! Reader as a test. No flashy powers beyond invisibility and teleportation. What you did give them however, was a whole load of sass and mystique. Something that drew in the Robins pretty well at first, but they soon lose interest in favor of … well

another work of yours was Alien! Reader. The goody two shoes with a dark side. (You couldn’t make them perfectly straight and narrow, that would have been far too boring). But Alien! Reader started dating Damian way too quickly. And everyone seemed so happy with the arrangement that you quickly ended it all. Swiftly killing your puppet in a fit of boredom. (Don’t worry, you kept some spare parts in order to rebuild them later on if such a whim caught your fancy)

Now, What We Want! Reader was special. It took a lot of time, effort, and whole butt load of money. Crossing dimensions was a lot more difficult than you thought it would be. But of course, in the end, your perfect self managed to pull through.

Replacing the original What We Want! Reader with a puppet that housed a soul from another world? Genius. Absolutely brilliant. You should reward yourself with how smart you are.

Unfortunately the boys got too excited and locked her up. Almost removing your access to one of your favorite experiments! How could they?

And so you send her back home. Safe and sound (and ready for part two!)

While looking through other dimensions, a certain manga/anime caught your eye. Makima! Reader was inspired from the character herself. And Bruce’s lack of participation and eagerness in some of your previous tests. And so you made his utter nightmare. One who killed when it was necessary and kill you did.

Unfortunately Makima! Reader almost made [Favorite DC Villain] pass away and you wouldn’t want that happening, don’t you?

In getting What We Want! Reader to your dimension you failed to account one of your stupid puppets getting into the collider by accident. And thus was What’s Up Danger? Reader was born.

You let it roam free for the most part, but for some reason time seemed to loop around them meeting the batboys for the first time and would never go beyond it. (Probably cause the author hasn’t updated in a dozen amber eras at this point)

Exasperated and in dire need of some fun in your life. You bring back all the readers one last time.

And oh, the chaos that ensued was one for the ages.

Finally, a success.

©️ h.n.s. - yun | 2025

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esotericbluntbaby · 3 days ago

Text

indelible

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: it's been a full year since you and hamzah broke up, causing you to go silent towards your whole friend group. after rekindling at a grocery store, mandy invites you to a party she's hosting. you go, noticing a familiar set of eyes staring at you throughout the night.

mentions: reader heavily loves pickles, angst and yearning (obvi), she/her pronouns, slight argument, ex!hamzah (who will be back for a lottttt of different fics), sfw!

blood orange is so freaking good i was listening to blood orange and got the idea for this fic <3

"martin, is that..?"

you turned around in the aisles messily stacked with assorted jars of pickles and olives, revealing a guy and a girl of your past: the faces behind the whisper. you gazed at the couple in front of you with a certain whimsical, yet surprised stare. martin and mandy were the two people who, at one point, helped toronto feel like home after moving there from the states. meeting mandy at a frozen yogurt stand after she complimented your outfit with welcoming radiance, you soon met martin and became apart of their small, yet comfortable and familiar group.

it was only until you met hamzah that they remained the people who created warmth for you to take in. you and hamzah had a specific energy, tying your souls together as if they were forever meant to be intertwined. chemistry erupted from the first interaction between the two of you; a nostalgic, childlike sense of happiness emerged between you guys similar to high school football games and puppy love. with hamzah, you were never scared. in fact, risk and excitement amplified itself within you every time you took your friendship with him a step further.

it wasn't surprising when hamzah decided he'd kiss you in front of martin, mandy, claire, and chase while at martin and mandy's abode. it also wasn't surprising when you two popped out as a couple a day or two later. the relationship your friends observed was one they rooted for; you knew in that moment that none of your friends would pity you at your wedding, which was new to you after trials and errors of different relationships with different guys.

it was definitely not a fairytale of your childhood dreams with him, actually, the complete opposite. you enjoyed the fact that your days weren't always fast-paced and full of moments that felt like it should be posted on some social media to get a thousand likes. sometimes, your days were slow. your days were filled with laundry baskets piled to the top and a race to see who gets to sort clothes faster. your days were filled with morning breath and uncomfortable, yet cozy positions in bed with hamzah. your days had occasional arguments, yet, they were always solved within a day or two. this was the man you wanted to marry.

however, you've always had the mindset of fairy tales always containing an ending to them, happy or not. you saw him less and less as the relationship went on, as his channel with martin was slowly but surely taking off the mainstream media. he began to hermit inside of his office, sometimes even sleeping there for days, almost as if the job was a ball and chain tied to his leg. yet, he also didn't want it off of him no matter how many times he's found the key. he would spend days without seeing you, seemingly by choice, leaving you worried and lonely. it was after a full two years and three months that you decided to end things with him for the sake of your own mental health, sanity, and wellness.

it was hard at first; honestly, you wanted to curl into a ball and hide away from everyone. martin and mandy were supportive, as they noticed all the times hamzah ditched you to edit or to film or to email. yet, each time you saw their faces, all you could see was him. so, slowly, "yeah, you can come over later," turned into "i'll see if i have plans," which eventually and gradually turned into, "sorry, i'm busy." you felt guilty, but you needed to erase him from your mind, like white paint to a canvas, in order to fully heal. it was never going to be a permanent thing, yet it's also been a full year since you last spoke to them. this was probably one of the most awkward things you could've ever encountered and on this fateful thursday night, you did.

"oh, hi," you softly greeted, rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand that wasn't holding the grocery basket.

mandy's gaze was as surprised as yours was, "wow, it's been ages."

"yeah, y'know... i've just been busy..."

"are you doing anything tonight?"

the guilt of being gone for so long finally decided to show up, chasing after your stream of consciousness like a dog chasing a bone.

"no, no i'm not."

without fully realizing until you were sitting in their dining room chair, you were now at martin and mandy's amicable apartment. a cup of tea accompanied your hands; for warmth or for comfort, you weren't really sure. it's been small talk for the past twenty minutes since you've arrived. guilt, as it always does, was still biting at your chest cavity like a parasite. so, to ease it away from you, you decided to speak about the elephant in the room.

"look, martin, mandy, i'm really sorry i haven't spoken to you guys in ages and just stopped responding. honestly, i guess i kinda saw hamzah every single time i saw you two. it hurt too much and i couldn't take it anymore."

mandy held your hand in her palm, "no, i get it-"

"are we pushing you too far by, like, bringing you to our apartment right after seeing us again without it being planned?" martin asked, genuine worry laced in his vocal infliction.

"no, no, definitely not. i've healed, already," you sipped your tea, "i was planning on contacting you guys soon. i guess soon ended up being, y'know, today."

"how have you been? or, like, have you healed from you and hamzah" mandy asked hesitantly; almost as if the mere mention of his name would've broken you like fine china being dropped.

"i've, uh, i've been alright- i guess, sometimes, i still think about him. it's inevitable. the mere thought of him chases after me to this day. it's weird, like, as soon as i got rid of his stuff, i felt okay; i felt fine and i didn't cry, but then there are days where i stumble upon an ad for fantastic mr. fox and i end up crying for weeks straight. i'm not really sure, y'know, when it'll end. hopefully, soon."

mandy's grip on your hand tightened as martin listened to each word you said, processing every emotion and memory held onto your words.

"would you ever get back together with him?" martin asked, as mandy lightly slapped his shoulder, "sorry, was that too blunt? or, like- fuck- sorry you don't have to answer tha-"

"maybe."

mandy's eyebrows raised inquisitively, "really?"

you placed your cup of tea down and started fidgeting with your hands, "i mean, i've always believed in that whole fate thing. destiny can't be changed and that type of shit. i don't hate him. i guess i- what's the word- resent.. him..? i couldn't hate him if i tried. i guess what i'm saying is if the universe decided to bring us back together, i'd probably be scared, but i also wouldn't oppose it completely. i don't know; we were young and i didn't know how to communicate and he didn't know how to balance. it's obvious that it wouldn't work out, then. i don't know about now."

"you seem to have thought about this a lot, to the point where you can talk about it in that way," mandy mentioned.

"so, you would give him another shot?" martin added.

you thought for a moment, "it depends on how that shot happens."

looking at the clock, you realized that it was now almost 10 pm. though you didn't have work or plans tomorrow, you didn't want to overstay your visit and leech onto them and their house. after all, the three of you just reconnected after a full year of absence and silence.

"i didn't even realize it was 10; i should probably get going, now," you got up and scooted in your chair.

mandy reached out to give you a hug, to which you returned, "wait, me and martin are having a get-together tomorrow. it's not a rager, but it's also not, like, lame, i guess. come. chase and claire are visiting and they've been asking about you lately too. everyone misses you."

the whole day was filled of taking chances and playing with the fate you previously thought you were aware of. what's one more game of odds?

"sure. i'll be there."

the house was dark, yet also thoughtfully lit with ambient lighting. shades of oranges and blues lit everyone's skin with a contrasting hue, reminiscent of a sunset on the ocean. there wasn't too many people there; if anything, you knew a good majority of them. yet, the thought of why you knew them, or the thought of hamzah's many introductions to get you used to his crowd, made your heart hurt a little. you arrived late, letting yourself in since mandy, nor martin weren't answering their phones. greeting a couple of familiar faces on your way in, you finally found your way to martin and mandy, speaking to chase and claire.

things felt normal for the first time in a long time. you were not alone, in fact, you were with the people who created what "home" was, in the first place. for being in a room with so many people who helped create the best atmosphere for you to thrive in, you still felt lonely. you didn't know it was possible to feel this conflicted; how could you feel lonely when you know you aren't alone?

suddenly, hamzah walked through the kitchen doors to the dining table you were sat at. a red crewneck and baggy, black jeans adorned his body, as well as the black sambas that were years and years old. the beanie that adorned his head, revealing tiny, black curls peeking out of it, complimented the silver chain on his necklace; you recognized it. it was yours.

"i could not find the cups, mandy, where are the cu-"

his eyes locked onto yours as if your pupils were magnets destined to be pulled together. you, then, saw what you witnessed when you first fell in love with him: nostalgia. childlike wonder. puppy love. the table went silent, watching this encounter unfold. everyone's eyes were widened in shock. in that moment, you couldn't hear the music, nor the people around you speaking, nor the drinks being poured or dog barking outside. the only thing you were focused on was the boy in front of you. frozen in space, you hoped you wouldn't have to be the first to speak. yet, you also never were the first one to speak.

"can we talk?"

you nodded, not knowing where this conversation was going to be headed.

you were both outside on martin and mandy's rooftop. you mentioned to him that you find it easier to talk when gazing at the stars and being in his presence, though, you were also dating at the time. you wondered if he remembered or if this was a coincidence. currently, you were sat in silence, waiting for him to break it.

"that wasn't the first time i saw you, tonight."

your gaze turned from the stars of the sky to the ones reflected in his irises, "what?"

"this whole night, i've been staring at the door. i wasn't really sure who i was waiting for, but i just felt the need to. now that you're here, i know now. i saw you when you entered and had a mini-panic attack in the kitchen. i don't even know what to say to you now that we're out here."

it became silent again, as you didn't respond.

he continued, "i miss you. i don't think there's a single day that went by where i don't fuck myself up for losing you. fuck, baby, i miss everything about you."

"you do?"

"there's so many texts i wrote you, but i just never sent them. i almost send, like, three of them a week."

"what do they have in them?"

"y'know, updates, my life, asking how you are, apologizing for being a total fucking ass."

"you were a total fucking ass," you teased, laughing ever-so-slightly, "it's okay. it's obvious you've changed and most likely grew."

he laughed as well before his face morphed into something more serious, "if you let me, i'll spend the rest of my life making everything i did up to you."

"and remind me what you did?"

"i didn't treat you the way that i was supposed to- the way you deserve. i'm sorry, i promise i'll fix things," he grabbed your cheek gently and nudged your head towards him, "please, baby, let me fix things. i'll beg, if i have to."

you sighed, "hamzah, i'm scared."

hamzah took out his phone and put in his password.

"my birthday? you haven't changed your password from my birthday in a full year?"

"yeah, uh, i just didn't want to."

he clicked on his notes app and gave you the phone, then turned to the sky and gazed at the different twinkling lights up above.

"what is this?" you asked.

"i write you letters whenever i think about you so much to the point where it gets overwhelming.

you read the first note titled "1/19," which was a couple of days ago.

1/19

hey, baby. how are you? i miss you a lot. i went to the store today and i got the pickles you like. i don't even like pickles. or, i guess, now i do. ever since we ended things, i go to the store just to get a jar of the pickles you liked. i think every time i eat them it makes me think about that one time you forced me to try one and i literally almost threw up because of how disgusting they are. i think i just eat them because idk they make me think of you. i hope you're doing alright. i hope your studies are going good. you're graduating in, what, like a year? that's crazy. i hope i'll be able to be there with you. i'm sorry, for everything, again. i say this in every paragraph. i fucked up. i know that, but please, please let me fix it. i'll be a good boyfriend, i'll even be a good husband one day. i promise. i'll talk to you again soon.

by the end of the paragraph, you teared up. looking beside you at him, a worrisome look entered his face as he gazed ahead of him; a second chance is the most desirable thing to him. he doesn't care about money, or fame, or sex. he's been yearning for you.

you copied his move; your hand made its way to hamzah's cheek, nudging it slowly but surely towards you. the twinkle in his eyes held hope, as did yours as it mirrored him. you sat there, simply looking into each other's eyes and possibly each other's soul; there was no rush, there was only love. your lips made its way onto his, softly, for a mere second. you pulled away as his lips chased after yours, kissing once again with a certain firmness and desperation laced into it.

"i'm sorry again, baby," he admits as he pulls away, "please, please let me back into your life. i don't care how hard or how long i have to work for it; let me earn you back. i can't live without you."

you smiled one of the most genuine smiles you've had in ages, "i trust you, hamzah."

"is that a yes?"

"i dunno. what do you think, idiot?"

author's note

goodnight guys! <3

#hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah fluff

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mameillieureennemie · 8 hours ago

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Hey i think it would be cool if you do another jinx x femreader ishas sister and something about isha walking in on a cute moment and getting grossed out maybe some angst😌 maybe some smut 😙😙 if u do that

hey love! sorry this took so long, but i hope you enjoy and thank you for the request :)

jinx x f!isha's sister!reader

there're hardly any moments you two can get alone. with the whole of piltover after you and the whole of zaun championing your girlfriend, it's been a very rough couple of weeks.

most of your time is spent hiding out, and during that time, you're entertaining isha as much as you can. whether that be through beetle brawling, drawing, or re-dying her hair so it doesn't lose its blue. it's anything you can do to keep her happy, to keep her away from the impending war that brews on outside.

but then a moment comes along where isha disappears. which isn't entirely odd because she's been known to vanish from time to time. you've grown used to it, after years of observing her movements, and calm jinx down when her look for isha grows a bit frantic.

"she's fine," you assure jinx, rubbing at her shoulder. "i wouldn't be this calm if i knew she wouldn't be."

"yeah, but," jinx says, running a shaky hand through her hair. "it's getting dangerous out there, and isha isn't us. she's young; she's practically a baby, and people are sick fucks with deranged brains and—"

you instantly draw jinx into your arms, tugging at her until her face is in the crook of your neck. you rub soothing circles against her back, softly cooing until jinx's muttering falls silent. then her arms are curling around your waist, holding you close, as if she's scared you'll disappear too.

"i know it's hard," you say gently. "to trust that things are okay. that the people you love are okay. but you can trust me and trust that i know what i'm talking about." you lean back so you can hold jinx's face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the angle of her cheekbones. "so trust me on this, okay? isha's fine, and she knows what to do if she runs into any trouble."

jinx seems unconvinced, but she slowly relaxes as she nuzzles into your touch. with a heavy sigh, she closes her eyes and says, "i've...never had to worry like this before. usually, it was others worrying about me. because i was the jinx, y'know? so it's odd...feeling this way."

you hum in response, still tracing patterns into her cheeks. "feeling what way?" you ask, a little curious and jinx opens her eyes with a shrug.

"responsible?" she tries, before shaking her head. "i don't know, i just—the idea of anything happening to you or isha rips me up inside. like i'd permanently lose my mind, go absolutely fucking crazy if something bad happened to you guys."

you hum again, this time with a hint of a chuckle. but her words have your heart racing because that's exactly how you feel. it also means that what jinx is experiencing is probably similar to your experience.

that she—

"you love us," you whisper, barely loud enough for jinx to hear. but she hears it, loud and clear, as she stares at you with eyes that momentarily look powder blue.

"i...do," she whispers, just as loud, and it's enough to push you. enough to have you pull her in so you can press a sweet kiss against her lips. a kiss she reciprocates eagerly, her arms still tight around your waist, placing you in a trap you hope to never escape.

just as she licks into your mouth with a soft moan, there's a noise that startles you both. you pull apart quickly, looking around and sighing when you see that it's isha.

whose nose is scrunched up in disgust, eyes clenched shut.

you can't help but laugh loudly as jinx snorts, refusing to let you go.

"some nerve you got," jinx scolds playfully. "you couldn't have come back in like twenty minutes?"

you shove jinx, just as playful, and say, "isha, you can open your eyes."

but isha shakes her head, intent of keeping her eyes safe.

but she's smiling now, and that's all that matters.

#jinx x reader #jinx x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #arcane league of legends #kismet writes ☆~#isha's sister!reader

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superficialdomina · 3 days ago

Text

Down Under - Epilogue

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. After-effects of a debaucherous night. References to past sexy activities. Mentions of medical stuff. A teeny bit of fluff.

Part 5

Series masterlist

A/N: That's it, folks! Thank you to everyone who joined me in this absolute ridiculousness - I have appreciated every one of you so much.

Epilogue

You awoke on a transport bed, surrounded by the hum and click of medical machinery. Your head was pounding like the worst hangover of your life.

Bruce was hanging a serious-looking plastic bag above your head; it was only when you traced the line that you realised it was connected to a canula in your forearm.

“Welcome back,” he said with a smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“Ugh. Awful. What’s in the bag?”

“Just fluids. Y’all had a pretty rough night.”

Rough… It all came flooding back to you. The lab. The flask. The wild, uninhibited hours spent entangled with the pale, beautiful, trickster god.

“Oh God,” you muttered, then realising how they must have found you, “oh Christ - did the Captain see me naked?” You lifted your hands to cover your face in humiliation; your entire body protested at the sudden movement, and you were abruptly aware that you were very, very sore.

Banner looked surprised, and a little horrified. “No! No, when we got there you were passed out under a blanket, and Loki was meditating on the other side of the pool.”

Loki. True to his word, his priority had been to protect you. What did he tell them?

“Is he – alright? Wait, what do you mean, “got there”? Where am I?”

You finally had the wherewithal to take in your surroundings. You were in what seemed to be a makeshift medical bay in a large canvas tent; through the open tent flaps, you could spot the finger-like protrusion of Sundial Peak pointing up into the sky. It looked like early evening.

“You’re back at the Hall’s Gap base camp. Loki’s fine. Exhausted. He – he carried you down.”

You stared at him. “Carried me… What?”

“I mean, the rest of us – me, Thor, Cap, all of us – we took turns at the other end of the stretcher. But he took the front handles the whole way down. Insisted.” He shrugged.

It was all too much to process. You swallowed, then tried a different tact.

“Am I – cured? I mean,” you shook your head to clear it and instantly regretted it. “The fungicides... It wasn’t – what was it?”

“Ah – yeah. Sorry about that. Not a fungus, it turns out – a parasite. Those meds never had a chance.”

A parasite. You shuddered. “And – what, you’ve developed a cure already?” Even for a genius being bankrolled by Tony Stark, that seemed fast.

“Oh. Ah, no. It was…”

“Oh ho, she’s awake!” Ray’s sharp accent stabbed through the peaceful evening air. “Those antimalarials work a treat, eh?”

“I don’t…”

“It was Ray’s idea, actually,” Bruce explained. “Once we figured out that it was a parasite, we broke into the village pharmacy and grabbed a few doses of chloroquine. Tony’s got a team in town now, distributing it to the residents.”

“So, what – Loki and I were the guinea pigs?”

“Ah – no,” Banner said again, shifting awkwardly and looking anywhere but Ray’s direction. “No, we… ah – we three…” He trailed off, cheeks a delightful shade of pink; you understood very clearly what he, Ray and Thor had been engaged in when you’d tried to call the previous evening.

“Best night I’ve had in twenty years,” Ray said with a grin and a wink. “The big one’s got quite the weapon on him. Anyway - you’d better go tell that brooding mate of yours that you’re back in the land of the living.”

You looked to Bruce, whose face was still bright red. “Is that alright? Can I get up?”

“Yeah, if you can keep this above your head.” He handed you the saline bag attached to your arm; you tried awkwardly to lift it above you, but everything hurt too much.

“Here,” Ray offered, “how’s this.” She wedged the plastic handle of the bag into the jagged end of her walking stick, then planted the stick in your hands. “Oughta keep ya pretty upright, anyway.”

You stood, and for the first time, you noticed you were wearing your own clothing; another one of Loki’s gifts, no doubt. You took one wobbly step, then another, until you were confident that you could move about on your own, then followed Ray out of the med bay.

You found Loki at the edge of the lake, skipping stones across the water. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and you both spoke at once.

“Loki, I’m so sorry—”

“Please accept my apologies—”

You looked at him quizzically. “Loki… It was all my fault. I broke the flasks. If it hadn’t been for me, we never would have…” You stopped at the look on his face.

“Actually,” he said softly, “the culture flasks were sterile. The Doctor believes it most likely that we were infected upon close proximity to the rats.”

The dead rats in the lab. Or rather, in Loki’s interdimensional pocket. Or wherever they were now.

You hadn’t been aware of the guilt you were carrying until the weight of it was lifted. Now, you felt the heady rush of relief. Sterile. Not my fault. Almost unconsciously, you sat down beside him.

“…ask again that you please accept my deepest apologies,” Loki was saying. He bowed his head and lifted his hand to his chest.

You were quiet for a moment, then said, “Banner told me what you did. Bringing me down off the mountain. I… Thank you. And thank you for… for staying with me.”

The corner of his mouth edged up into a smirk, and he raised his eyes to yours. “If I may boast,” he said in response, “the drugs they gave us had not yet taken effect when we brought your stretcher back to camp. It was the hardest” he paused for effect, “hike of my life.”

You imagined him sporting a raging hard-on as he carried you down the mountain, and laughed.

“You know the other three…”

“Oh, I heard. Your compatriot shared extensive details. A ‘Thorgy’, I believe she termed it.”

“Oh God, please don’t say any more.” Still laughing, you gave an exaggerated shudder. Then you sobered. “Um - how are you now? Recovered?”

“What exactly are you asking, darling?”

“What? No! I mean – I just wanted to make sure…”

He smiled. “I jest, of course. I will be fine. A little more wary of abandoned research animals in future, but that only seems prudent.” He reached out and took your hand. “And you? Are you… well?”

You stared down at your hand, clasped in his. It was ridiculous – pathetic, really – that this simple touch could elicit the flutter of nervous warmth now inching up your arm. Not after… After everything. And yet you found yourself hoping he wouldn’t let you go.

“Yeah, I’m… I’ll be OK.” You gave his hand a small squeeze. “So – so that’s it, then?”

“That is it.”

You stood, trying to pull your hand from his grasp. But Loki held tight.

“Unless…”

You swallowed. “Unless?”

“Dinner. Next Saturday evening? My apartment. As I said, lefse is only truly delicious when it is fresh off the griddle.”

Tags in comments! xx

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki #Avenger!Loki #sex pollen #loki x you #loki x female reader

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writing-mlm · 2 days ago

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Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is.

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up.

The answer was no.

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine.

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise.

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone.

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more.

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine.

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer.

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham.

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.”

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts.

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face.

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand.

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck.

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it.

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again.

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug.

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that.

“Yeah,” He shrugs.

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile.

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight.

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know.

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him.

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that.

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back.

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.”

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach.

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand.

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features.

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression.

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh.

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head.

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole.

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you.

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole.

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself.

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms.

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are.

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you.

“Mhmm, well, bye!”

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset.

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.”

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand.

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece.

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents.

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes.

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground.

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress.

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it.

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth.

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined.

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him.

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door.

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision.

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt.

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house.

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs.

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again.

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back.

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand.

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends.

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero.

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone.

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior.

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl.

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it.

“I really should be going,”

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up.

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots.

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door.

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him.

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face.

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook.

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up.

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise.

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face.

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

#x male reader #x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #red robin x male reader #red robin x you #dc x reader #tim drake fluff

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missmoonfrost · 2 days ago

Text

The adoption office - a wolfstar microfic

@wolfstarmicrofic - January 19: First Kid - Words 419

Remus had never really believed he was fit to be a father. He had his own health problems to take care of and he didn't have any particular hand with children. But it was important to Sirius and they were both approaching their forties, so he had agreed.

They looked solemnly at each other and stepped inside the adoption office adjacent to St Mungo's to hand in all the paperwork they had filled out. Remus still doubted they would actually let him - a werewolf - adopt anyone, but then he at least could tell Sirius he had tried.

A witch with big curly hair and pink glasses took their papers and smiled warmly.

"We will go through this and get back to you in a couple of weeks. Any questions?"

Remus shook his head, but Sirius started asking about the process and the children. The witch prattled on and Remus found himself studying the paintings and fiddling with the pamphlets on the desk.

"Do you only get children from St Mungo’s?"

"Oh, no, we take cases from the whole country. But we find the location fitting. The access to medical expertise is welcome and there are a number of children that get orphaned here, after all. Abandoned at birth or left behind deceased parents. Last week there was a girl abandoned after being bitten by a werewolf."

"What?!" Remus demanded, now looking intently at the witch.

"Yeah, it's tragic. No one knows for sure, since there hasn't been a full moon yet since she was bitten, but the healers say she's most likely infected."

"Any chance those papers could be done before then? The next full? We want to -"

Remus cut himself short and looked to his side. Sirius was staring at him. Of course he was, Remus was being an idiot. Only because Sirius accepted Remus' condition, what said he'd be willing to have another inconvenience in his hair?

"Sorry", Remus mumbled, "I just thought that would be someone we could really help. I mean... someone who could actually benefit from having... me."

Sirius put a reassuring hand on his lower back and smiled softly.

"Of course, love. It'd be perfect."

The witch flipped through their papers. "I see. I think we can quicken up the process in this case. Expect an owl before the weekend."

Remus chuckled in both relief and anticipation and pulled Sirius close to his side.

The witch winked at them. "And maybe stock up on clothes and things for a four-year-old."

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar microfic

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tommydarlings · 2 days ago

Text

Underneath the mistletoe | L.N

pairing: bestfriend!lando norris x reader

warnings: none

w/c: 1.8k

summary: Your best friend Lando and you always exchanged gifts during wonderful Christmas time and usually it’s just something small and simple, but this year your gifts will be the start of something that's even more wonderful than Christmas time.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

———————————————————————

Putting up the Christmas tree with your best friend was definitely a challenge — an entertaining challenge, but nonetheless a tough one.

“No, we won’t put orange Christmas balls on the tree just because you drive for McLaren, Lando!“ you pointed your finger at him.

Lando groaned and rolled his eyes, “for what reason did I buy them then?“

You shrugged with a laugh, “I don’t know but I don’t want to see a single orange Christmas ball on my tree!“ you continued unpacking the other decorations you just bought for your tree.

Lando watched you for a moment before he put the orange Christmas balls down with a dramatic sigh,

“And what colour did you have in mind, miss?“

You glared at him, “don’t 'miss' me now just because I don’t want your orange balls on there,“ and of course, Lando started laughing hysterically.

“My orange what?“ he laughed wholeheartedly, making a chuckle escape your mouth as well.

You gulped with a grin, “you heard me..“

“No!“ he laughed loudly, letting the fairy lights for the tree fall onto the floor with a small thud,

“Say it again!“ he wiped his eyes, “please!“

You sighed and shook your head, “your orange ball-”

Before you could even finish your apparently oh so funny sentence, your best friend already wheezed again, laughing so loud that you were convinced that your neighbours heard him.

You laughed a bit as well as you noticed how immensely funny he thought that was before you picked the fairy lights up and walked over to your tree.

You cleared your throat, “yeah I know, ha ha ha, really funny and all that but I need your help here, okay?“ you looked over at Lando.

The thing is, watching him laugh like that made this whole situation even harder for you…

You’ve had a huge crush on lando since the day you met him, but he never seemed to pick that up and he always dated some kind of model or fashion influencer so you simply pushed your feelings down and tried your best to hide them.

But with him standing there and laughing so beautifully, that was very hard.

Lando cleared his throat before he walked over to you, “yeah, yeah sorry,“ he smiled at you, making you blush a bit so you quickly turned your head away from him with a tiny smile.

Lando grabbed the fairy lights out of your hands and started putting them on the tree, “like this?“ he looked at you.

You watched him, still wearing a tiny blush,

“Yeah that… looks good,“ you nodded and helped him a bit — after a couple minutes, you finally had it.

“Perfect,“ your best friend nodded as well,

“And now the star on top,“ lando mumbled before he grabbed the beautiful star in gold and turned to you, “do you want to put it on?“

You licked your lips, “how? I can’t reach the top of the tree, Lando,“ you raised your brows but he still handed you the star.

Lando shrugged, “you can hop on my shoulders,“ he mumbled as you took the star from his pretty hands.

You stared at him for a few seconds before you walked closer to him, “uhm… yeah, sure, good idea,“ you gulped nervously.

So your best friend quickly helped you hop on the couch before he stood in front of you and patted his strong shoulders, “c‘mon,“ he mumbled deeply.

You gulped and nodded to yourself before you grabbed his hands anf swiftly got onto his shoulders, immediately laughing and screaming a bit as he pretended to lose balance and drop you,

“Lando!“ you gently put your hands onto his head as soon as he puts his hands onto your shins.

“I was just kidding, don’t worry!“ he giggled and briefly squeezed your legs, making you blush even more.

The McLaren driver slowly walked towards the tree and watched you as you carefully put the star on the tree, his rough palms gently holding your shins to keep you safe.

“Perfect,“ he mumbled before he walked back to the couch and let you fall backwards with a tiny yelp.

You smiled uo at him, “you could have warned me,“ you told him before you stood back up.

He scoffed with a chuckle, “I could have, yeah, guess I just forgot,“ lando shrugged.

———

Later that day, before lando had to leave to arrive on time at his family’s house to celebrate Christmas there, you two exchanged your presents you got for each other.

“Okay…“ you said to Lando as you two sat down next to the tree, both of you seemed to be pretty nervous for some reason.

He cleared his throat as he pulled his messily wrapped present closer to him, “do you want to start?“

You chuckled, “scared that I rip it out of your hands, norris?“ you bit your lip as he held your present rather tightly in his hands.

Your best friend looked down at the gift and chuckled as well, “oh yeah, I know how much you love opening gifts,“ he replied.

You nodded at his statement, “okay that’s true, can't deny that one,“ you grinned before you looked back up at him again.

He cleared his throat, “okay I think I can begin.“

Slowly, Lando handed you his package and you happily took it and gently ripped the wrapping paper open.

As you removed the paper and laid it to the side, Lando handed you the pair of scissors with a surprisingly shaking hand, “Lando? Everything okay?“ you grabbed the scissors, your fingers briefly brushing against his.

The formula one driver glanced up at you and you could have sworn that you saw a single tear coming up in his eye.

Lando sniffled before he nodded, “uhm, yeah of course… why wouldn’t I be okay?“ he tried to laugh it off a bit.

You slowly nodded before you carefully opened the package and quickly noticed a rather big pile of handwritten letters in it.

Your best friend watched as you furrowed your brows in confusion before you got a hold of the first letter that laid on top of all the others and opened it, there and then glancing up at him.

“What is all that, Lando?“ you giggled nervously.

He shrugged, “just… open it,” he gulped, also seeming very nervous, “please,“ the driver added in a quiet whisper.

And as soon as you read the words that he had written by hand in his infamous messy handwriting — even though it looked like he actually tried his best this time, your eyes widened as tears shot into them.

“Lando?“ you gulped as you read the words, this was clearly a love letter and you guessed that the other multiple letters in the box were also all love letters.

He cleared his throat, a single tear running down his cheek, “hmm?“

You scanned the adoring, affectionate and devoting words with watery eyes, your hands trembling before you glanced up at Lando again,

“Are t-the other letters i-in there-“ you began to ask quietly but your bestfriend already nodded his head.

You slowly nodded as well before you continued reading the letter, then you pulled the second out of the cardboard box and started reading that one as well.

Lando watched with tearful eyes that didn’t stop letting those tears run down his blushy cheeks, occasionally sniffling there and then while he watched you carefully.

As you just finished reading through the sixth love letter which was also filled with the most adoring words where he clearly admitted his endless love for you — you nervously spoke up, “open mine now… please.“

Your bestfriend was a bit stunned that you decided against saying anything about the letters but he simply did as you told him to and gently grabbed the present you got for him which was also in a cardboard box but just a smaller one.

Lando slowly opened it with trembling hands and furrowed his brows as he noticed that it’s a beautiful mistletoe.

With watery eyes, he raised his head and looked at you again, “What’s this?“

You sighed quietly, your eyes completely watery by now as well, “You know what that-”

“I mean,“ he sniffled, “I know that it’s a mistletoe, but-”

You gulped and quickly wiped your falling tears away, “Lando…” you whispered in a soft tone.

He looked at you with pleading eyes before he slowly nodded and stood up, the mistletoe dangling from his shaking fingers.

As the hopeless romantic that lando simply is, he held the mistletoe above both of your heads and slowly leaned in.

And as soon as your soft lips touched his, you relaxed… your trembling hands cupped his heated cheeks, your lips moving against each others in the most gentle way.

After some time, you pulled away and looked at him, your thumbs wiping his tears away before you cracked a very tiny smile.

Your best friend looked at you with raised brows, still panting rather heavily as he softly stroked your cheeks after carelessly dropping the mistletoe you gifted him, “I’m so-”

But you only crashed your lips against his again, “don’t be sorry, lan,” you mumbled, “please don’t be sorry, yeah? We’re in this together,“ you told him reassuringly.

Suddenly, he smiled widely and put his forehead against yours, “I want bro be more than your friend,“ Lando mumbled under his breath, his eyes now closed.

“I know,“ you closed your teary eyes as well,

“I want to be more than your friend as well,” you admitted.

As soon as those words left your mouth, he lovingly kissed you again, “365,” he murmured all of a sudden against your lips.

You pulled away and looked at him, “what?”

“I’ve written you 365 letters, every night, since last year, I sat down and wrote a letter to you… I don’t even really know why, I guess I just had so many words to say to you that I felt this immense urge to write them down — I wanted to give you those letters earlier but I was just way too nervous to do so.”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you glanced back down at the big pile of letters and gulped, “for how long have you-”

“Three years — I’ve been thinking about you, longing for your touch and loving you with every fibre of my being for three years now,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb running along your bottom lip.

With still teary eyes, you sniffled as you felt his touch and heard his sweet words.

Then you leaned in and kissed him again, smiling a bit this time,

“So you… feel the same way?“ he murmured in a nervous tone and you chuckled against his lips, “yeah lando, I do,“ you whispered.

#fanfic #fanfiction #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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quarterlifekitty · 3 days ago

Note

To add to my earlier ask about how I have more step-dad Nik, your add on was so good because absolutely. Yes. Sweet girl is too fucked out to ask about protection or to think of anything other than Nik fucking load after load into her. She also doesn't think to ask for protection the next day in the shower since Nik gets her so worked up with his mouth first. Makes her cum on his tongue at least twice before fucking a few more out of her and filling her again. Cleans her up too, happy to hold his sweet girl and bathe her. Now I don't know how but she manages to get Nik to let her leave a second time (Nik is getting a new house ready closer to her college so she can attend online schooling, he doesn't want her feeling stir crazy when she's further along after all) and about a month after getting back she finds out she's pregnant. And despite being absolutely terrified of the situation she doesn't want to get rid of it, or at least keeps putting it off out of nerves. She eventually asks Nik if she can come visit and he's like 'oh, I sold that house, too many memories with the ex, new house is much closer to you though, do not worry' and he picks her up. Hand on her thigh the whole way to his (their) new home. She tries to act normal and everything but Nikolai can tell his sweet girl is distressed and presses her for the reason. Eventually she caves and tearfully confesses she's pregnant and she's 'so sorry' that she was so reckless and that she swears she won't bother him with anything and she'll go and he doesn't have to worry about her. And Nik only smiles 'Ah, what makes you think I'm mad? Hmm? And on that note, what makes you think that I'm not going to keep my pretty girl right here where I can take care of her?' and while SD should definitely be nervous and the red flags should be waving she never had a great basis for healthy relationships and she is falling for Nik as ashamed as she was of it at first. She keeps asking him if he's sure and it gets to a point where he just picks her up and takes her to their bed to show her just how sure he is. Funny side note Nik fully shoots her mom a text with something like 'thanks for introducing me to my soon to be wife, you should expect grandchildren within a year. Don't expect to see them though.' (take any dialog I type as an idea of what someone says cause I'm ass at typing in character) Once again thank you for listening to my rambling

Bro please ramble here all the time forever. I love this and I owe you my life.

Nik sending his ex a picture— doesn’t have your face in it, but you’re wearing like the one piece of family jewelry you ever got from her side of the family. It’s got your baby bump, and his hand holding yours— got a pretty ring on it now, too. And then he blocks her <3

Also reader like 100% has daddy issues in this one. Like her mom is piece of work and her dad is completely absent for whatever reason— when was the last time someone took care of her? Probably back when she was physically incapable of caring for herself. From the moment she could dress and feed herself she was on her own. It’s why it’s so painfully easy for her to fall into things with Nik. After a life that kind of treatment, Nik’s brand of doting is like crack.

And I like to imagine, while she might not know this in a full conscious way, she wanted to keep the baby because she fully expected Nikolai to leave her. It’s what she’s used to— and it’s strange for her to depend on him so much when he’s just her former stepfather, no? She’s constantly second guessing herself about leaning on him even a little— that she’s probably bothering him, and he’s just too kind to tell her off. But she does love him. So things would be hard, to raise the baby on her own, but at least she’d have a piece of him with her. She could remember the moments they shared that way, even when he left her.

She’s in for the fucking, no, the lovemaking of a lifetime when she confesses that little tidbit to him.

(This is all just my humble onion as this story is yours lol but this is what goes on in my imagination realm)

#writing #cod fanfic #cod #nikolai #nikolai x reader #nikolai cod #cw stepcest #cw babytrapping

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burningembers91 · 1 day ago

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The Difference Between Men and Boys - Kim Do-Hyun x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

The Choices We Make The Beauty and her Beast

Synopsis: Kim Do-Hyun tries his best to stay away from you. But a chance meeting at a bar leads to a night neither one of you will forget

The bar reeked of stale alcohol and sweat; the floor covered in a permanent sticky residue from the countless drinks that had been dropped on the cheap tile. Kim Do-Hyun was drunk, for the first time in years. He’d always been able to handle his liquor, had always known when to stop. The biggest part of his job was staying in control, and alcohol hindered his ability to maintain focus. He’d always known when enough was enough, but lately he didn’t seem to care.

He hadn’t seen you since that night at the bar. He’d left for his next mission the day after, trying to block you entirely from his mind. But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t let you go. He’d brought with him the jacket that you’d worn as he walked you home, the faintest traces of your vanilla perfume still lingering. If he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, he could picture you so clearly. His men could tell something was off; their boss was still as sharp and ruthless as ever, but there was sadness behind his eyes. They knew better than to bring it up with him though; Kim Do-Hyun wasn’t a man who shared personal information, not even with his closest comrades.

He'd been back in Seoul for 6 weeks now, forcing himself to avoid your restaurant. Not seeing you was causing him physical pain, one that made his chest ache and his eyes burn. He’d barely been home since he arrived back, flitting from woman to woman, spending a few days with each of the girls he met on dating apps. He knew what he was doing, trying a fill a void that simply couldn’t be filled. These women weren’t you. Their laugh didn’t light up a room, their eyes weren’t brighter than all of the stars in the sky. Their very essence didn’t make him want to sink to his knees; not like you did. It was killing him being away from you, but you were better off without him.

He’d lost count of the number of drinks he’d had, his night a blur of beer and shots. The woman he was with had a shrill, piercing laugh, her acrylic nails digging into the bare flesh of his arm, like she was scared he’d try and run away if she let go. He wanted to run, wanted to run to you, but he couldn’t allow himself to damage you that way. You were too innocent, too pure and good for a monster like him. He was a murderer and a thief, looting and killing for his own gain, as well as the gain of powerful, corrupt men. He didn’t deserve you; he deserved to be in the dank, damp bar with a woman who he couldn’t stand, while he slowly drank himself into the abyss.

He didn’t notice you a few tables away, your face illuminated by the pink and purple neon lights above the bar. You were sitting on your own, nursing a drink as you wiped away the last of your tears. It had been weeks since you’d seen Do-Hyun. He completely vanished after he had saved you, and you couldn’t help but think you’d done something wrong. You missed him, missed his presence, however infrequent it had been. This was the longest you’d gone without seeing him, and it was tearing you in two. You’d decided to give the dating apps a try in a desperate bid to get him out of your head. You’d matched with someone who seemed nice enough online, but in person left far too much to be desired. Your date had been a chauvinistic pig, spending the whole evening talking about himself and his many achievements, though you doubted most of the stories were true. You’d only had two drinks before he invited you back to his, and when you politely declined, he told you in no uncertain terms how unattractive he’d found you and that he was only asking you back because he felt sorry for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to your apartment, to the crushing silence that would inevitably envelope you. You knew you’d think of Do-Hyun, and you knew you’d break your own heart all over again. You weren’t even sure why you were so hung up on him. Your relationship had always been purely platonic, and yet you felt almost drawn to him. You sipped your lukewarm wine, playing the events of that night in your head again and again. Maybe he’d realised you were too weak, just a pathetic girl who couldn’t fend off a few rowdy drunks. He seemed like he’d be drawn to a mature, confident woman, not a girl who daydreamed about trekking mountains.

You looked up, and that’s when you saw him, hunched over the bar with a beer in his hand. A woman clung to him; her crimson red nails clutched around his bicep. Your eyes met at the same time, the world seemingly ceasing to turn.

Do-Hyun could tell you’d been crying. Your lips were puffy, and your eyes were bright with tears, your foundation streaked. He could barely hear the nasally screech of the woman next to him, so entranced by you. You couldn’t take your eyes off each other; every sight, sound and smell that wasn’t you completely gone from his mind.

“Go home,” he told the woman next to him, pushing his stool back. “What?” She laughed, her face falling as he pried his arm from her taloned grasp. “I said go home,” Do-Hyun snarled. “We’re done here.” He knew he was being a prick, but you were the only one who mattered anymore. You’d been crying, and he was going to find out who’d made you cry. And once he had, he’d make that person wish they’d never been born.

“You’re back,” you said, your voice hoarse with tears as he approached you. “I’m back,” he replied, sliding into the booth next to you. Your black velvet dress was impossibly short, the fabric riding high up your thighs. You looked good tonight, and Do-Hyun knew he was fighting a losing battle with his conscience. “Who made you cry?” he growled, his hand cupping your chin as he surveyed your tear-streaked face. You were still so beautiful, your fragility making you seem even more so in the pale neon lights of the bar. “Some asshole,” you mumbled, “it’s fine.” “It’s not fine,” he spat, “What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?” Do-Hyun could feel himself losing control, could feel his anger rising to the surface. He was usually so level-headed, but when it came to you, he seemed to lose all sense. “No,” you shook your head, “not like that anyway. He was just rude, and… he said some things… but it doesn’t matter, honestly.” “Tell me what he said.” Do-Hyun’s hand still cupped your chin, his sharp gaze piercing into you, like he was staring directly into your soul. His domineering presence was turning you on, igniting that fire in your belly as he commanded your attention. You couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away from the man who made everything else in the world seem so insignificant. “He asked me to go home with him, and when I said no, he told me I was ugly anyway, and that he was only doing it because he felt bad for me.”

Do-Hyun’s hand tightened around your chin, making you gasp. His thumb traced the outline of your lip, eliciting the softest, sweetest moan he’d ever heard. He’d regret this tomorrow, but tonight he needed to act on his desires. He needed to show you that man had been wrong; he needed to show you how badly he wanted you. “That’s because he was nothing but a boy. Do you know the difference between boys and men?” His finger traced your top lip now, your body trembling at his touch as you shook your head in answer to his question. Your eyes never left each other’s, the tension between you almost suffocating. You weren’t entirely sure you were breathing as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Boys don’t know how to treat a woman. But men do. It’s what we live for.” His lips brushed your earlobe, sending a shockwave of heat from your head to your soft, aching core. “Show me,” you whispered, your hands trembling you brought them up to rest on the back of his neck. “Show me how you’d treat me.”

Do-Hyun kissed you, hard. Months’ worth of pent-up frustration passed between you, your hands roaming each other’s bodies as his tongue met yours. His fingers traced a line up your thighs, teasing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Take me home,” you breathed, your breath hitching as he hooked a finger behind your lacy garment, sliding it deep inside you. His mouth swallowed your moan, and you wondered if anyone could see, or whether the table blocked the view.

You were so wet, so tight, and Do-Hyun knew you’d likely get caught, but his need for you far outweighed his common sense. He wanted you in his bed, your legs spread for him while he showed you just how much you meant to him. “Come with me,” he smiled, removing his finger from your tight core and placing it gently to your lips. You parted them for him, moaning as he slid the digit into your mouth. He’d always thought you were so innocent, but you were anything but.

The taxi journey back to his was hazy, the two of you so lost in each other. He carried you up the stairs to his apartment, stopping every few steps to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck. No one had ever treated you like this, had made your whole body burn with pleasure. You could sense his desperation for you, could feel it in the way he kissed you. Tonight, someone had made you feel so ugly, but right now Do-Hyun was making you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

He sat you down on his bed, peeling your dress away from your body. Your curves were exquisite, the outline of your breasts and hips against his sheets driving him crazy. How your date had turned you down earlier was beyond him. But it was his loss, and Do-Hyun was going to show how much better off you’d be with him.

He kissed every inch of your body, starting from your forehead, down to your toes. Your skin was alight, every atom of your being tingling from his touch. He worked his way back up the delicate skin of your calves and inner thighs, before sliding your underwear down. You were soaking for him, your wetness dripping onto his sheets as his tongue traced through your slick folds. The sound you made as you cried out was fucking heavenly, and Do-Hyun moved his tongue against you in confident, assured strokes. “So fucking wet,” he whispered, his fingers sliding into you as you arched your hips. “Be a good girl and let go for me. I want to feel you come undone on my fingers.”

His authoritative tone was unlike anything you’d heard before. He could somehow boss you around and yet make you feel so special at the same time. “Don’t hold back,” he growled, his thumb pressing into the sensitive nub of your clit as he coaxed you towards the blissful edge. “I know you’re a dirty girl. Show me how dirty you are.” The sound as you came for him was guttural, your body wracked with blissful sobs as your soft walls contracted around his thick digits.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, stroking your cheek softly as you came down from the edge of ecstasy. “So good for me.” Your body shook for him, your hands pulling his face to yours. Your desire for him overwhelmed you, driving you to the brink of insanity. “Fuck me,” you pleaded, so desperate to feel him inside of you. “Please. I need you.”

He surveyed you, shaking on his sheets as your wetness leaked down your thighs. He’d never felt like this with any of the random women he’d brought back before, had never been so enamoured with a person before. He couldn’t deny you anything, not when he wanted it so badly as well. “Think you can take it?” he teased, his cock aching as he watched you nod vigorously. He removed his underwear, lining up against you as he pushed himself inside of you.

The feel of him stretching you out was perfection, the feel of his hips thrusting into you bringing you to the brink again almost instantly. He filled you so perfectly, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep within you that no one had ever reached before.

Your whimpers were his undoing, the sweet sounds punctured by each thrust of his hips. His body shuddered as he painted your tight walls with his seed, your fingers gripping his hair as he made sure you took every last drop of him.

He held you that night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He told you how he always went back to the same restaurant because of you, how he thought of you on his long trips away. He told you he wanted to make you happy, to show you how a real man behaved.

As the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, and the harsh light of day broke over the horizon, Do-Hyun knew he was in too deep. But even as he sobered up, he realised he didn’t care. You were everything he wanted, the only thing that mattered to him in this cursed life. it was selfish of him to want you when his life didn’t allow for normal relationships. But he could no longer deny himself, not when he’d had a taste of you. he really was a monster, enchanting an innocent girl, knowing full well he didn’t deserve her.

But Do-Hyun was hooked on you, and nothing would ever be able to tear him away.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game 2 #squid game x you #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #kim do hyun x reader #kim do hyun x you #kim do hyun #mercenary kim #kim do hyun smut #mercenary kim smut

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wroetominter · 2 days ago

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Overwhelm - George Clarke

Pairing: George Clarke X FemReader

Warnings: none

Fluff - my fav.

I turned on my side in bed, feeling the relief of the cold side of my pillow against my cheek. Next to me in bed George slept peacefully. There was nothing romantic happening here, simply two good friends who enjoyed each others company. I can’t say that there weren’t feelings there, at least on my end there definitely were.

I peered my eyes at my phone on the nightstand, seeing it was only five thirty in the morning. I tried falling back asleep but couldn’t get my mind to shut off. The last few month had been a whirlwind of emotions.

Deciding since sleep was not happening, I may as well get up. I slowly slid out of bed, careful not to wake George. I grabbed his hoodie on his chair and pulled it over myself, smelling his cologne still lingering in the fabric. A scent I had come to find comforting.

I walked out to the living room, seeing the sun starting to creep over the horizon through the city view. I stepped outside and sat on one of the lounge chairs, pulling my legs up and hugging into them for some extra warmth and comfort.

As I sat there thinking, I began to feel filled with emotions. It wasn’t sad emotion, more so happy and overwhelmed all rolled into one. Tears freely flowed down my cheeks as my thoughts kept racing.

Torn from my thoughts by the door creaking open beside me, my head turned to the side to see who was coming outside. George stood there, his face immediately filled with concern when he took in my appearance.

“What’s wrong?” He came to sit beside me, wiping the tears from my face.

“Nothings wrong Geo, I’m sorry if I woke you.” I apologized. He shook his head.

“No no, well, kinda. I guess.” He scratched his head. “Bed felt empty and when I didn’t feel you beside me I knew something had to be wrong. Too early for you to be up.”

I sighed, looking back at him. His hand lightly rubbed my back in a soothing manner. He was too good to me sometimes. “What’s really wrong?” He pressed. He could read me like a book.

“Well, I was just sort of overwhelmed I guess. Everything I’ve ever wanted happened so quickly and I’m just really grateful I suppose. I have a job that doesn’t feel like work, I live in my favorite city in the world, I have the money to do whatever I want…” I trailed off, unsure if I wanted to break down the barriers further and admit to him that I had feelings for him and that also overwhelmed me.

Plucking up the courage as he stared at me, spilling my guts to him. “And I get to wake up next to the man of my dreams any time I want.” My hands fiddled together, trying to distract myself from the awkward tension I had unintentionally built.

“Man of your dreams?” George asked softly, placing his hand on mine.

I nodded, meeting his gaze. He had a soft smile on his lips and an almost unreadable expression.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” He admitted. I stared back at him dumbfounded. “You know I’m not good with the whole admitting feelings thing, I barely even told my friends I loved them until years into our friendship.” I giggled at his all too true comment.

“Well, I guess we’re both at fault for that then huh?” I asked. He nodded, pulling me in for a hug. I embraced his warmth and felt more comfortable than I had in a long time.

“Let’s go back to bed love, we’ll talk about this more when we’ve slept.” He grabbed my hand and led me back to his room.

I slid back to my side of the bed, cozying into the blankets.

“I reckon we’re up to the point you can sleep closer to me yeah?” George reached his arms out, pulling me over to him. I rested my head on his chest, intertwining our legs in a way that was comfortable for both of us.

“Get some sleep love.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

#wroetominterimagines #imagine #george clarke #george clarkeey #george clarkey #george clarke fics #george clarke fluff #chrismd #arthur hill #arthurtv

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deansapplepie · 21 hours ago

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Use your hands

Summary: Javier can’t resist your manicured nails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: Javier Peña, NSFW, smut, making out, handjob, male masturbation, nails kink (?), hand kink, needy Javier, maybe subbish vibes from Javi (but not really), spit, pet names in spanish all around, oral male receiving (kinda). Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: sorry not sorry, Pedro liking manicured nails gave me ideas.

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

Javier and you had agreed to go for dinner with Steve and Connie. You agreed to meet after work, but Javi didn’t know about your evil plan. To be honest you hadn’t even planned it this time, it happened innocently. You went to the Beauty Salon earlier that day to do your hair and nails to go on this double date without thinking much about it. You chose your favorite color which happened to be his favorite color on you, but you swore it wasn’t on purpose.

When Javier and Steve arrived you were already sat by the table having a conversation with Connie about daily life. He came to you and kissed your temple. “Hola, corazón. How was your day?” He asked as he sat by your side and took your hand in his. Before you could answer he was talking again as soon as his eyes met your beautiful hands and done nails. “You had your nails done. This color suits you so well…”

“Did you like it? I really didn’t think much about it.” You shrugged. Whoever listened to your conversation would see it as an innocent one between husband and wife, but you knew better than this. You knew something had shifted in there.

“It’s beautiful, mi amor.” He kissed your hand, his warm breath and lips imprinting in the back of your hand.

During the whole dinner, Javier couldn’t just sit still. He was restless and the fault was on you and your pretty hands. Because of that, once you stepped home and he closed the door, he got you pressed against it and his lips on yours. “Why did you do that, nena?” He asked his lips hovering yours.

“What? I did nothing.” You answered breathlessly.

“You know what. Painting your nails so pretty and the color you know I like on you.” He pecked your lips, peppered your jaw… “You’re such a tease, it can’t go like this…”

“What are you going to do to me?”

He laughed dryly. “Me? Cariño, I’m doing nothing. You’re going to work to pay for this.” He pressed his bulge against you, impossibly hard, just waiting the whole night to be relieved by you.

He picked you on his arms and sat on the couch, you straddling him. He kissed you one more time, he could never get enough of you, but he had urgent matters at hand. Or better speaking at your hands. He stopped the kiss, you almost whined at the loss. “You know what to do, amor. Use your hands.”

Your hands traveled from his face down his neck and shoulders. You stopped when your hands reached his chest, your delicate fingers working on the buttons of his shirt, you needed to see your man’s torso. “That’s not the place I want your hands on, corazón.”

“A girl can indulge herself, can’t she?” You replied as you opened his shirt completely exposing his chest, your hands tentatively reaching his pants. You slipped your hand on top of his crotch making him hiss. He was so hard, he was probably in suffering. “Don’t worry, cielo. I’m taking care of you.” You said, the spanish endearment word rolling easily from your lips after all those years of marriage.

You unbuckled his belt skillfully and following it you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding it and his briefs together down his legs. He sprung against his abdomen proudly standing. So pretty and tempting, you really want to shove it inside your mouth and savor it.

Your hands gripped it delicately, but for Javi it felt so intense he groaned and had to hold himself to not start bucking his hips against your hands. Your delicate fingers around him and the colors of your nails contrasting to his skin made the act look so glorious that he was ashamed to say he could cum just with the sight. You moved your hand along his shaft till you reached the tip, red, angry, asking to be ravished. You smeared some pre cum that was already leaking but you’d need more. You looked up at Javier and expectation covered his face.

You started opening your mouth and before you could do anything he spoke. “Don’t use your mouth, nena. Only your hands.”

“Tempting, but I wasn’t.” You replied and once again opened your mouth letting spit fall from it and hit his rocking hard cock.

“Fuck…” he groaned. “Bebé, you’re gonna kill me.”

You smirked. He was going to live, he never died of it. Your spit ran down his length in a very slow pace. With your delicate manicured hands you ran his length up and down spreading the humidity along him, making your job easier. One hand was never enough, you always needed both to pleasure him.

Rhythmically you moved your hands up and down while he observed you working on him, sometimes you went slower, others faster and from time to time you gave some attention that the head and also to his balls. “Do you like it, babe?” You asked, your hands torturing him in a teasing pace.

His hips bucked against your hands, his cock moving on its own in your fists. “I love it.”, he practically whined. Your hands felt so good around him, you already knew him so well… you were the only one that could make him feel this good. He had one addiction and it was you, he could never get tire. “Faster, amor. Faster.” He begged.

You’d do anything for him. You increased your pace, your hands frantically moving around him. His pre cum leaked some more helping on the process, and you ads spit to it other times although you’d rather have it inside your mouth. As if the gods had listened to your prayers, Javier spoke. “Nena, open your mouth. I wanna cum in your mouth.”

Eagerly you opened your mouth taking him inside, the warmth of your cave welcomed him so well. If he could chose, he’d like to die like this. Inside you or in this case inside your mouth. He was holding a little letting you have some fun, he knew how you enjoyed going down on him, sucking his tip as if it was a sweet succulent fruit just to little by little take his length on your mouth, your plush lips looking so pretty around him while your hands hold his base and his balls, sometimes his thighs. The way your eyes would fill with tears when he hit the back of your throat…

He started twitching inside your mouth, his groans increasing, he was so damn close! Some ministrations from you and trusting from his hips and he was coming down your throat while you made sure nothing was wasted.

As he descended from his high, he brought you back to his lap, tangling his fingers in your hair and kissing you passionately. “Te amo, mi Reina.” He said with devotion, his forehead against yours, like he had done many times before, and you would never get tired of listening to it.

“I love you too, mi vida.” You replied as always.

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #deanspplepie

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artist-kreating-stuff · 3 days ago

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You’re as Beautiful as the Day I Lost You

“I… I know what you’re going to say, General,” Cody started out slowly. “How could I have done it? Kill you after everything we’ve been through… or at least, attempt to?”

His commanding officer… no, former commanding officer only stared at him, wide gaze unreadable. His face looked worn, his hair was more white than auburn, and even the humble desert structure behind him seemed wildly out of character. Yet Cody would never forget those bright blue eyes that put every sky Cody had ever seen to shame.

The stifling silence prompted Cody to continue. “W-well… I was given an order, General! F-from the Emperor… n-no, the Chancellor himself!” He had to remind himself that Palpatine was only the humble High Chancellor of the Republic at the time of the order. The simple fact reminded him just how drastically the galaxy had changed that day. “Good soldiers follow orders, that’s what we were always taught! Follow orders or risk being decommissioned! I was acting on instinct - we all were! I’m not even sure we were entirely aware of what we were doing at the time. If we knew what would become of the Republic, I promise you, we never would have done it!”

It was somewhat of the truth, though not the whole truth. The whole truth was that he wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. Before the order from the Chancellor came through, he had been excited about the potential prospect of the war finally ending. After the order came through, all he could think about was shooting down his General and every other Jedi he saw. Part of him at the time had screamed traitors, enemies to the Republic, shoot them down, kill them all.

The other part of him, which had been much quieter than the other part, had whispered why, how could you, they were your allies, your friends.

The only traitor here is you.

He shook himself to rid himself of the memory. It was the truth, yes, but it wasn’t a good enough explanation.

Though for what he and his brothers had done, he feared that there never would be a good enough explanation.

“I-I know I wronged you very badly…” He stuttered, having not thoroughly thought out this part of his speech. Part of him had doubted he’d even get through his poor attempt at an explanation for his actions before his former Jedi slid his lightsaber through his chest. “A-and I’m sorry that it took me so long to question the order. I thought that the Empire sought to bring the peace that the Republic failed to, we all did… most of us still do, I believe. Though the things I’ve seen have caused me to think to the contrary…”

With a start, he realized just how close Obi-Wan had gotten to him. Somewhere during his clumsy speech, the former Jedi had started moving towards him, his boots moving like whispers along the sand. His hands hung limply at his sides as he continued to stare at Cody; he wasn’t reaching for a weapon, yet, but Cody felt his panic spike all the same.

“What we did - what I did was wrong, I realize that now!” He claimed loudly, scuttling backwards two steps for every step Obi-Wan took forwards. His escape attempts were quickly shut down - one flex from Obi-Wan’s fingers and he was stuck in place, his limbs refusing to listen to his frantic commands to move. He may have been living on Tatooine, the hellhole of the galaxy, for years at this point, but he was still every bit the Jedi Cody had fought beside.

Had commanded his men to shoot down.

Obi-Wan still hadn’t said anything, his expression betraying nothing as he kept Cody in place with nothing more than his mind. Cody found his patience wearing thin. With everything that had happened, with everything that he was laying bare in front of him, he believed he was owed some emotion. “Stop being such a Jedi, sir!” He growled in his face. Obi-Wan was quickly closing the distance between them, causing Cody’s tone to switch from annoyed to full on frantic. “Go on - shout, scream, say something!”

With only a few inches between them, Obi-Wan did finally do something. He reached out and laid his hand on Cody’s cheek.

Cody’s eyes went wide at the contact. He still couldn’t move, but the same could not be said for Obi-Wan. His calloused fingers twitched over Cody’s skin, tracing the ridges of his scar and the new wrinkles that had popped during his service to the Empire. His bright blue eyes scanned Cody from head to toe, taking in his unruly streaked hair and the desert attire he had thrown together from various sources. His chest and torso, the latter a little thicker than the last time Cody had seen him, heaved with quick, short breaths.

The entire time, Cody couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe. He didn’t dare to, lest he break whatever spell was currently keeping Obi-Wan from killing him. He couldn’t tell if it was the Force or his own desperate will at this point.

It was only when Obi-Wan finished his inspection of Cody did he finally show emotion. He fixed his bright blue eyes on Cody’s wide brown ones and smiled warmly. He brought his face, weary and lined from the years spent in the desert, close enough for Cody to count the tears starting to drip down his cheeks. His cracked lips separated and he spoke in a mere whisper, “My dear Cody… you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

A broken gasp filled the air between them, and it took a minute for Cody to realize that it had come from him. The Force hold that had been keeping him in place finally dissipated, but it didn’t matter. With those simple words, the dam he had been building since he had first met the great Obi-Wan Kenobi came tumbling down. Every lovesick emotion he had beaten down, every declaration of devotion he had swallowed, every small act of kindness he had convinced himself was one of duty instead of love, every overwhelming feeling of guilt he had felt since the day he’d ordered his execution… it filled him up so completely that he couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

The crushing wave of emotion reached his eyes, causing his own tears to well up and fall. Unable to deal with it all at once, he squeezed his eyes shut and allowed his head to lower until it rested against his chest. From beyond the darkness of his eyes, he heard Obi-Wan exhale a shaky breath of his own. Cody felt him move his fingers down his cheek until he was cupping his chin, gently pressing his face upwards. He thought that would be it, but he suddenly felt the soft pressure of two lips meeting his own, accompanied by the warm brush of facial hair.

Cody allowed himself to relax into the sensation, allowed it to tame the wave of emotion. When he felt Obi-Wan pull away, he finally opened his eyes, though made no move to wipe his tears. The warmth of Obi-Wan’s fingers disappeared from his chin, trailing down his chest to interlace with his own. The two of them simply stood there amongst the sand and the heat, smiling through their tears at each other.

Cody thought he would never be here. During the war, it had been unspeakable - he was a clone, one of many faces, whereas Obi-Wan was a Jedi. After the order came through, he had been positive Obi-Wan was dead, had seen him tumble off the cliff himself. When he finally started to question the order, he was devastated that he’d killed Obi-Wan without ever telling him his feelings. It wasn’t until he’d heard the passing mention of a desert hermit by the name of Ben Kenobi that he finally allowed himself to hope.

The Empire was still a problem, he was very well aware of that. Both of them were wanted men now, Cody even more so because the Empire was at least aware that he was alive. But now, with the sands of Tatooine around them and the twin Suns shining overhead, the threat of the Empire seemed so far away, and Cody couldn’t care less.

Because after so very long, he finally had his Jedi.

—————

After reading so many Codywan fanfics, I finally wrote one of my own! That one scene from How to Train Your Dragon 2 has always been one of my favorites from the series, and I wondered how it would look as a Codywan scenario.

Codywan fans, how did I do?

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marvelwitchergilmore · 22 hours ago

Text

Friendship In Escape

Summary: Steve Rogers x fe!Reader -> After escaping a party, you meet Steve Rogers. It's in a simple conversation, you and him find common ground and from that a friendship grows. Question is, will either of you ever find the courage to act of the underlying feelings?

Disclaimer: This is a LONG one. Spoilers ahead for most of the main Captain America/Avengers films from The Avengers. Also, there's probably a lot of plot holes in this fic so we're just gonna ignore them. Slow, slow burn. Angst-y moments. Found family, fluff, taking care of each other. Some swearing. Reader helps Steve adjust to the modern world. Lots of hugging. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes but we're gonna ignore them, too (it's late and I'm pretty sure my brain is fried). Hope you enjoy it <3 Not proof read.

The party had been humming to life for an hour or more before the honorable host finally showed his face. Dawned in a big name branded suit, Tony Stark stood at the top of the stairs, calling for people to start the party.

There was meant to be music, laughter, too many drinks and a fight he’ll be able to tell a story about at the next party. And you were sure, by the end of the night, he’d get his wish.

This party in particular had been the third you’d been dragged along to in the space of a month. It hadn’t changed since you were a child.

Posh names belonging to posh people with deep pockets and, when the time called for it, had long arms, too. The amount of money that was gathered from parties like this were worth the events being held.

But never once had you felt comfortable.

It wasn’t the shoes or the dress. In fact, getting ready was the best part of the night. But being dragged to the same people, with the same stories, being told about the same single people in their family, their sons, nephews, cousins. Being told to stand and take a picture with a smile that will let everyone know how fun the parties are.

But they weren’t.

For others they were. But for you? You had more fun spending time alone in the libraries at University, studying, answering company emails and working, mostly, from behind the curtain.

If you could have done that, you would have avoided the parties all together. Relationships with other businesses were already solidified and had been for almost fifty years.

So, after the fourth hour of walking around the gala room, standing and being forced to listen to the same conversations that you’d heard your whole life, listening to people be more interested in what Tony Stark had placed around his hosting room, and being introduced to another twenty something with a multi-billion dollar company behind his family’s name, but no integrity, you found your escape.

“Darling, where are you going?” Your mother asked as you handed her your drink.

“Just to the bathroom.”

She gave you a smile. “Hurry back. Sandra told me she’s bringing her cousin. Special invite from Mr Stark himself.”

You forced your millionth smile of the night and nodded. “Will do.”

As you took the stairs up towards the upper floors and bathrooms, you looked down over the edge of the balcony. They were preoccupied, listening to somebody’s story.

Rather than taking a right, you took a left, bumping into a waitress.

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Can I help you with something?”

You looked around you. “Just promise you didn’t see me. I need a break.”

The waitress just smiled. “There’s some rooms that haven't been decorated yet. Just take a right at the end of the hall.”

You looked down the hall, looked back and smiled at her. The first genuine smile of the evening.

“Thank you.”

She shrugged. “This is my fifth party helping the host. We all need a break every once in a while.”

You thanked her again before walking down the hall. The minute you turned the corner, the party seemed like it was miles away. Every once in a while, you heard a roar of laughter but it never got any louder than that.

With a sigh of relief, you decided to explore the different rooms. Some had tarp over the entrances, the insides not being suitable to survive at least an hour in. From holes in the floors to fresh paint fumes and drying plaster.

But then one at the very end of the hall had a door. So, taking your chance, you opened it.

“Oh!”

Inside stood a man dressed in a woolen style suit, his tie loose around his neck. He looked as if he’d been pacing and deep in thought before you’d opened the door.

“I-” You looked around you, fearful you were about to get into trouble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone- Sorry.”

“Trying to escape the party, too?”

You stopped trying to close the door and looked at him. You couldn’t put your finger on it; maybe it was the way he stood, maybe it was the tone in his voice or maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but you saw something trustworthy in him.

An unlikely friend in a place where you had none.

“What gave it away?”

He smiled, softly. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.”

You stepped inside. “Thank you.”

“I- I’m Steve, by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it.

“Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

For the second time that evening, you gave a genuine smile. “Likewise. So, what are you hiding from? A match-making mother, or a business minded father?”

“Neither.” Steve laughed a little.

You walked further into the room before finding a spot with less sawdust on the ground. You’d been on your feet for a long time. You found the perfect spot against a wall between two windows.

“Wow,” you brushed what sawdust you could with your feet before turning around and tucking the skirt of your dress down. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He chuckled. “Not a big one.”

You shrugged, stretching your legs out and crossing them at your ankles. You patted the ground beside you. “My parents want me to socialise. I’d say talking with you qualifies as that. I’ve got time.”

Steve smiled as he watched you, finally agreeing to sit beside you.

And for the first time in almost a month, you weren’t bored.

Talking and listening to Steve didn’t make you so bored out of your mind you would have rather ran a cross country race. Talking with Steve was the first time you felt comfortable at one of these fancy galas.

You’d come to learn that he was, in fact, the man they’d dug out of the ice. That he was the soldier lost to time, being forced into a new century without any idea how to deal with it.

“I know a little of what that’s like,” you admitted to him. “To feel lost. I’ve been attending different parties like this since I was a kid. And never once have I felt comfortable attending them. I can talk to everyone in the room and feel completely loney, but I can sit on my own in a quiet place like this and…feel comfortable and be myself.”

“I had that once.” Steve told you. “I’d say back home, but I’m still in the same country. To be honest, I don’t know what anything is outside of this room.”

Then an idea popped into your head. “I could help.”

“How?”

You shrugged. “I could help you adjust. I’m no therapist but I know how most things work in the 21st century. Movies, media, books. You said they gave you a document packet?”

Steve nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a folded over thick document.

“With all the stores and street names, I don’t recognise anything anymore.”

Opening it up, Steve handed it to you. It had an address, some pictures, different appointments and different wifi codes.

“I know where this is.”

“You do?” Steve seemed surprised. They’d given him the address three days ago with no instruction on how to find it. They just told him something about Google Maps. Whatever a Google was.

You nodded. “It looks kinda old.”

Steve shrugged. “‘Guess it’s their way of giving me some familiarity.”

You shook your head. “When do you move in?”

“End of the week.”

“I’ve got a meeting in the morning, but I can take the rest of the day – help you move in, if you’d like.”

Steve looked at you. “You’d really do that for me?”

You handed his document back and nodded. “I would. Just because you were given an image for them to control, doesn’t mean that they should take advantage of the person you are behind it all.”

“That’s really kind of you, ma’am.”

You smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

For an hour more, you and Steve just talked. Filled with quiet laughter and genuine smiles, you and Steve found an unlikely friendship in each other that evening.

A friendship that would only grow stronger and stronger over the years.

At the end of that week, you met Steve outside the SI building before walking with him towards the underground and pointing out different landmarks for him to recognise. A university campus, a museum, a deli store that served the best sandwiches. You explained about the times for the trains that headed towards the different states. Finally, walking down the different streets, Steve started to recognise a few different places. New businesses stood in their places, but the bricks around them were the same.

“Pretty sure I got beat up in that alley.”

You followed Steve’s eye-line before looking back at him. “Bet your mom was beside herself with the amount of times you came home with a black eye.”

Steve held a reminiscent smile on his face as he looked at his shoes. “Just a kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb enough to run away from the fight.”

You watched Steve for a moment; something in his tone told you those weren’t just his words.

“Come on, we’re almost there.”

You took Steve’s hand, leading him down the street before you both arrived at the apartment block. A couple of younger kids were playing out in the street, kicking a football around until they scored it round the corner of the building, one of their mother’s yelling to play in the back.

A guy with a coffee cart served passers by heading back from their lunch break, on the corner.

Unlocking the front door, you and Steve walked up the first few flights of stairs before finally reaching his new home.

As Steve opened up the door and walked inside, he was met with a living space that probably hadn’t had someone live there…maybe ever. The furniture seemed old, the kitchen table was rusting a little at the bottom of the legs and the curtains had seen better days.

A few boxes had been stacked by the entrance way with different labels scribbled on them.

You rifled through them. “Bed sheets, books, clothes.”

You took a note of the size label. “You know, I think one of my friends might have some clothes you’d like. She runs a clothing company that does everything from a vintage style to modern day. I’m sure she’d love to let you rifle through her products; see if there’s anything you’d like to take off her hands.”

You turned around but Steve hadn’t been listening. Instead, he’d been focusing on the case files that were strewn across the kitchen table.

Standing beside him, keeping your eye on his reactions, you looked down at the table before you came across a picture. You had to take a breath.

Steve had told you a little about his friends from the war. The Howling Commandos.

“Is that them?”

Steve nodded.

It took Steve a while to get used to his new apartment, but with your help, he found it becoming a home. You helped him change the bedsheets and work out his washing machine before putting your phone number into his phone.

“Think of it like a telegram,” you told him. “But rather than waiting weeks to hear back, it’s almost instantly.”

In the weeks that followed, you met Steve at his apartment every few days. On the weekends, you showed him around some of the thrift stores where he’d found a new kitchen table and some dishes to use in the kitchen.

One of your friends – the same friend that ran a clothing company – had delivered some new curtains. They were plain, but they were better than the ones Steve had been left with.

Meanwhile, Steve found an old gym where he could spend his evenings and, with your help, had figured out the basics of a phone and computer.

The one Shield had given him was far too high tech, even for you. So, you had brought Steve one of your old ones. It was still pretty modern, but it was a lot simpler to use than the Stark Industries issued one.

Then he got pulled into helping Shield with a threat that, to him, would have been best left in the ocean.

News reports came in thick and fast during the attack on New York. You hadn’t heard from Steve during it, until you nearly ran into him in the middle of the street as mechanical…whatever the hell they were, were flying through the sky.

“Why are you still in the city?! Everyone needs to get out.”

You nodded. “I know, but people needed help.” You looked down at his shield. “You know how to use that?”

Steve nodded.

“Can you break a lock with it?”

Steve followed you as you ran down an alley before disappearing around the corner and to an employee entrance. Neither you or Steve could tell what had welded a lock shut, but considering some kind of blue weapon lay not too far out in the middle of the street with similar residue being left of the door, you could only gather it had been some alien technology.

It took a few tries but the lock finally busted open and a bunch of parents with their kids came flooding out of the doors. As you and Steve started directing people to safety out of the city, you saw the way the kids looked up at Steve.

The whole image of Captain America had been controlled by the government, making him an image away from Steve Rogers. But nothing could control the way those kids looked up at Steve as their hero.

A comic book hero that existed in real life.

“Ma’am, is that everyone?” Steve asked one of the women that left the room.

She seemed distressed as she looked around. “I-I think so.” Then she ran off with the others.

Something in your gut told you to check the rest of the room, and Steve followed you inside.

“Go! Help the others! I can look after myself.”

“But-”

“Steve.” You looked at him. “Go. They need you.”

It took him a minute but he took your word for it and ran back out of the door. Meanwhile, you checked under every table and desk before something caught your eye at the side of one of the cabinets.

A kid, no older than six.

“Hey, honey.”

“Mommy was meant to pick me up.”

You looked around, hearing something hit a building nearby.

“I’ll help you look for her. Can I pick you up?” The kid nodded. “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

“Sophie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. Come on, let's go and find your mom.”

After three hours of destruction over the city, and countless injuries being collected by people, it wasn’t until a mom came running through the crowds of EMTs and doctors, screaming out for her child that you and Sophie, sitting in the back of an ambulance, looked up.

And Sophie called out.

Jumping from the bench, Sophie looked outside and saw her mom running through the crowd. You watched as they collided and sank to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why aren’t you with the rest of your class? Where are they?”

“Hey,” you said, walking behind Sophie. “They got separated when trying to clear the city.”

“Did you save her?”

“I got her out-” Suddenly, the mom crushed you with a hug.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I-” The tears continued to flow from her eyes.

“It’s alright. All that matters is that she’s safe.”

“Thank you so much.”

Hours later, you had finally made it back home, had showered and switched your TV on. The news had been following updates and different people’s theories of what had happened.

Then a knock came to your door.

Upon opening it, you were greeted with a fresher looking Steve Rogers.

“Shouldn’t you be with a medic?”

Steve smiled, “Shouldn’t you? Between the pair of us, I’m the one who has a serum running through their veins.”

You looked in his hand. “Is that a pizza?”

Steve nodded. “Didn’t know which kind you’d like, so I got the classic. Figured you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Inviting him inside, Steve laid it on the coffee table.

“Shouldn’t you be helping The Avengers or something?”

“Avengers?” Steve looked at you with a curious look.

You just pointed at the screen. “Oh, right. Yeah, we’ve all decided to take a break. But Shield tells me they’ve finally found me a job.”

“That’s something to celebrate.”

Steve shrugged. “Kinda hard to celebrate when an entire city almost got levelled to the ground.”

You understood. “I’m gonna head back tomorrow and see if they need any help.”

“Can I come with you?”

“You don’t have to ask, Steve.”

He smiled, if a little sheepishly.

For the rest of the evening, you and Steve shared a pizza and talked until neither of you wanted to say anything else.

So, you picked out a film and placed it into the DVD player. And you and Steve just sat and watched it.

As the months passed, you and Steve slipped into a familiar routine. He got better at texting, but you’d come to find he preferred to call. And during the days he was at the training facility in Washington and devoid of signal, he’d write you letters.

And you wrote them back.

He’d also started keeping a list, you’d noticed, of things you’d say in passing or you’d tell him to listen to or watch.

On the quiet afternoons you spent together, Steve would open up more. He told you more about the 40s and being in the army. He told you more about his childhood and his best friend, Bucky.

You’d surprised him one afternoon by taking him to the Smithsonian. They had a new exhibit put up – one pillar being dedicated to Bucky and his friendship with Steve.

In one of his final letters, he’d told you of a man he’d basically been trolling on his morning runs. You’d come to find out his name and you smiled.

Outside of you and the members of his team, Sam Wilson was the first friend Steve had made.

However, you didn’t get to meet him in person until you got a call from him, under Steve’s contact. Of course, the minute the headline had flashed on your screen, you’d tried to get into contact with him. He’d fallen, or rather, jumped, from an elevator and fallen a hundred feet or more to the ground. His own work seemed to be after him.

So, when you were told he’d fallen, once more, from one of the jets and had been in surgery, you rushed to him.

Entering his room, Natasha had been the one to take you to his room after two nurses read your name on his file but wouldn’t let you through.

“He’s alive, as you can see.”

“If I get a call like this again, telling me you’re dead, I’ll kill you myself.” You warned Steve before you walked to his side. The bastard had the audacity to chuckle.

“I promise. If I’m gonna die, I’ll ask your permission first.”

From behind you, you heard a voice smile. “I like her.”

“Y/n, this is Sam. Sam, this is Y/n.”

From that day on, the movie and pizza nights came to include both Sam and Natasha. However, unbeknownst to you and Steve, the movie nights also came to include the rest of the team.

Natasha had been trained to read people. And she’d never read anyone easier than you and Steve.

And her information soon became Clint’s information which soon became everyone’s information when he accidentally let it slip to the others.

Tony had been planning a party. Rather, he wanted to throw one and Pepper had come up with a list of people to invite. And when she read out your name, Steve had looked up but Clint had spoken first.

“Is that Steve’s girl?”

They all looked around at each other before looking at Steve. He had a girl?

Steve faltered. “Yes, well, no. She’s my friend. We’re friends but-”

Tony turned to Pepper. “Invite Steve’s girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends. And she doesn’t really like big parties so-”

“Invite her anyway. I can’t believe Clint knows about her before we do.” Then he turned to Natasha. “I suppose you already knew.”

She just nodded.

And that was just the start of it.

A few nights later, Steve had given you a heads up which you appreciated but it did put you on edge a little. But all in all, it was…fun.

It was the first time you enjoyed yourself at a party and didn’t hate every minute of it.

Firstly, the attire was fancy but not gala fancy. It was a celebration of Hydra finally being overthrown from Shield.

You arrived in your heels that didn’t hurt your feet so much, wide legged trousers and a graphic t-shirt.

“Now, who is that?”

At the bar, Rhodey, Thor, Tony and Maria all stood watching as you entered the room, clearly looking for someone. Tony and Rhodey had met most of the building at the party. Maria had met them all – at the very least, she had a file on them all.

But not on you.

From behind the bar, Natasha leaned over. “That’s Steve’s girl.”

From the bar they watched as Sam noticed you first and called you over. You looked relieved at seeing a familiar face. Even more relieved at seeing Steve. Tony watched as Steve noticed you, too.

The game of pool Steve had been winning at suddenly took a dip as his aim went off kilter, his attention immediately going to you.

“Steve has a woman?” Thor asked, the other just nodded. “Well, we must meet her.”

However, as they all went to walk towards the pool table, Maria reached her hand out. “You boys swarm her, Steve will make sure you never get to speak to her again. I will go.”

And so she did.

The others watched on as Steve introduced you to Maria, every protective instinct a man got when introducing his girlfriend to the rest of his family going up. And somehow, with simple ease, Maria had gained a small part of your friendship and led you towards the second bar.

Meanwhile, Steve watched as you walked away, the heart in his eyes never leaving. Not even when Sam nudged him and they got back to the game.

Throughout the night, Steve kept his eye on you.

He almost broke the sound barrier by how quickly he turned up at your side when you were dragged into the conversation circle with most of them.

“So, tell me.” Tony said, sitting beside you. “How did you meet our fellow Captain?”

“Tony.” Steve warned, though no true malice could be traced in his voice.

You smiled. “It’s okay. We actually met at one of your parties.”

Tony sat back. “Really?”

You nodded. “Some fancy gala a few years back.”

Conversation between yourself and the rest of the group seemed to take a natural flow until eventually, all your nerves had subsided.

But that didn’t stop you from needing a break by the end. Between talking with Natasha, Maria and Thor for most of the night, and beating Sam at a few rounds of pool – something Steve found incredibly entertaining,

Tony had backed Sam on his idea that you were cheating. Nobody won that many rounds of pool one after the other. So, as the others gathered and watched the game, Steve stepped forward and he covered your eyes.

For a moment you looked up at him and smirked, and he smiled back with a light shrug of his shoulders.

“Yes, thank you, Cap.” Sam said. “See. This will prove that she’s cheat-”

As you hit the white cue ball, everyone watched and was left speechless as every ball suddenly found its home in the pockets, leaving you with an automatic victory.

Opening your eyes once more and standing up, you looked at the pool table with a proud look before looking at Sam. You’d never seen him as shocked. Looking at Steve, he seemed shocked but also proud.

“Still think I’m cheating?”

Tony just looked at you. “She’s a witch. She had to be. Were you cursed as a child? Born to some Vampire in Europe or something?”

Steve chuckled, as did you.

“Come on, Tony. Accept your defeat.”

As the hours passed, eventually you found yourself outside on the balcony, taking a breather from the party.

“Figured you’d find some place quiet.”

You stood back up, holding onto the balcony bar. “Hey.”

Steve smiled. “Hey. You okay? They can be a bit much.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not that. Just needed a minute. You know, this is the first time I’ve enjoyed myself at one of these?”

Steve looked up at the building before looking back at you with a smile on his face. “It is better when people aren’t trying to show you off.”

You nodded with a smile. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for escaping the last one and finding me in that room.”

It was in that moment that you realised the last time you’d gone to any kind of gala or party of the same scale was the first time you’d met Steve.

You smiled fondly at the memory. “Thanks for not being mad when I opened the door.”

“I could never be mad at you.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a good judge of character.”

You felt yourself chuckle before you looked out across the rest of the city before a cold wind blew through making you shiver.

“Here,” Steve shrugged off his jacket but before you could tell him you were fine, he placed it over your shoulders.

It smelt of him.

“Thanks.”

Steve just nodded with a smile watching as you placed your arms through the holes and wrapped it a little tighter around yourself before you looked out at the rest of the city with him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is something going on between Maria and Sam?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “She’ll eat him alive.”

“He might be into that.”

Steve laughed and closed his eyes in disgust. “What makes you ask?”

You shrugged. “Just something I’ve noticed. He looks at her like she hung the moon. Though, of course, that’s when she’s not looking. When she is, it's like I’m back at school rehearsing for Much Ado About Nothing.”

Steve’s joy widened. “You were in a play?”

You laughed. “I wasn’t any good. I was only put on stage because my folks donated so much money to the school. All I wanted was to work with Tech.”

Steve chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that. But, I get what you mean about Sam and Maria. Who knows? If the timing is right…”

Steve looked at you and you felt something bigger was being hidden behind his words. Part of you certainly held out hope that there was.

“We should probably get back inside.”

An hour later, most people had gone home so it was left with just Steve, yourself, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Maria, Tony, Rhodey and Thor.

Still wearing Steve’s jacket, you were sitting in the middle of the sofa, your legs curled towards your chest. After he stood up, Steve came back and handed you a beer before he nudged your legs allowing him room to sit down before he pulled them across his lap.

It was the standard procedure for you and him to sit on a sofa together. Mainly because his sofa in his old apartment had been small enough to do so.

Despite changing apartments and the sofa, it was just something that stuck.

The others took silent note of it as the debate continued between Thor and Clint over his hammer.

By the time everyone was trying to lift it, Steve became one of the last. Sharing a look with you before looking at Thor, Steve stood up and tried to lift it.

You watched as it squeaked on the table for a moment, but moved no further. However, your knowing grin – despite it never truly lifting from the table – caused you to look at Thor.

He looked panic stricken.

But Steve stood back and held his hands up.

“Or…you’re all not worthy.”

“It’s still a trick!”

In the moments that followed, everyone turned to their own conversations; including you and Steve.

But Clint and Natasha kept their eyes on you and Steve. Your legs over his lap, wearing his jacket, his focus solely on you, his hand rubbing lightly against the bottom of your leg that was exposed under your wide-legged trousers, your ever loving gaze on his that matched yours, light and soft smiles on your faces.

“Ten bucks says they’ll be married in two years.” Clint whispered up to Natasha.

“Deal.”

Something that Clint didn’t know, that Natasha did, was that you and Steve were fucking oblivious.

They’d all be lucky if it happened in two years.

Quite frankly, it should have happened two years ago.

Suddenly, a high pitched noise rippled through the room.

“Of course you’re not all worthy…”

Your eyes landed on an oil leaking…zombie robot?

His voice was deep and menacing and nothing about any of it felt comforting.

“Steve?”

“Stark?”

“Jarvis?”

In a single turn of events you’d gone from laughing and joking with each other to suddenly defending yourself against a robot who claimed he’d killed someone.

A swarm of them flew in through broken glass panels and Steve kicked up a table before any of them could hit either of you.

You landed on the floor beside him, a little winded.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m okay. Go, go, go. I’ll be fine.”

Steve helped you up before running off in the other direction. It was a whirlwind of blasts, bullets and shattered glass.

At one point, one had you cornered as Tony unhooked another. And for a moment, you thought you’d be sent flying out of the window and out into the open before Steve took hold of it, throwing it back towards Thor before Clint threw him his shield.

And it all ended as Thor sent his hammer flying through Ultron.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Banner.” Tony called him over before they headed towards their lab.

Meanwhile, Steve turned around before heading straight towards you and holding you in his arms, almost lifting you from the ground.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, letting the scent of him, his clothes, his jacket, calm you.

“Yeah. Thanks for saving my life.”

Steve truly breathed for the first time since the high pitched noise had rang through the room. With a hand at the back of your head, he pressed a kiss to your temple and he closed his eyes.

“Come on, let's go and find the others.”

However, as he took your hand, you pulled him back. “Steve.”

“Right, you-you’ll want to go home-”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. You’ve got glass in your arm.”

“Oh.”

“Does Tony have tweezers in his lab?”

Steve nodded. “I think so.”

Less than five minutes later, you sat Steve in one of the chairs, Bruce handing you and Maria a set of tweezers each.

Staring with his arm, you plucked out the small fragments of glass before his skin healed over them, before holding his palm up to face you. Meanwhile, they began discussing the extinction of The Avengers and the possibility of nuclear codes getting out to the rest of the world.

Then rage got passed around the room.

By the time morning rolled around, Steve drove you back home.

“Whatever happens…” You looked at Steve, a small voice in the back of your head begging for him to be imprinted in your memory as if he hadn’t already. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve nodded. “I promise. You’re the only one that can kill me, remember?”

You felt yourself laugh. At least he remembered.

Looking at him again, you hugged him. “I mean it, Steve. Please be safe.”

He hugged you back, the feeling of him strong enough for you to still feel hours later.

“I promise.”

Each day you didn’t hear from him was a little more worrisome than the last. And then when the media reported Shield helping evacuate people from a floating country…all you could do was hope Steve wasn’t one of the casualties.

“Maybe I’ll take a leaf out of Barton’s book.”

“The simple life?”

“You’ll get there one day. Maybe you could get there with Y/n?”

Steve couldn’t deny he hadn’t thought about it once or twice. You and him. Together. More than friends. A part of him did think you felt it too. The same spark. Familiarity. The same love.

“If something was gonna happen, it would have happened by now.” Steve told him. “Besides, I think the guy that wanted all that went into the ice seventy five years ago.”

Tony shrugged. “Don’t count on it. That guy is still there somewhere. See you ‘round, Rogers.”

As Tony drove away, Steve took in the building in front of him. And despite the acceptance he felt of being home, the idea of you and him…he figured that would always be with him.

Even if it never happened.

That night, Steve turned up outside your apartment with the next movie on his list and a case of soda. However, when you didn’t answer, he went in search of you.

Opening the door to the roof, he looked around before spotting you in the very corner, sitting on the table of the picnic bench.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Looking around, you gave a sigh of relief at seeing him. He dropped the case on the table before you reached for him.

“Thank god you’re okay.”

“How long have you been up here?”

“Since Nat called me and told me you’d landed. I couldn’t sit in my apartment anymore so…I came up here. Last time I looked out at the city was before everything went to hell.”

Steve looked out at the city himself before looking back at you. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Ross is probably about to reign hellfire down on…everyone.”

“What about the girl?”

“Wanda?”

You nodded.

“I don’t know. She went through a lot, losing her home and her brother in one fowl sweep.”

“You should train her.”

“What?”

“Train her,” you repeated. “You’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be in a war, to sign up to be experimented on. She’s gonna need someone who actually understands some of what she’s going through.”

Steve agreed with you. You had a point.

“Tony can have a lot of influence and his heart can be in the right place but he doesn’t always remember that people didn’t have his childhood or his life.”

“He’s been through a lot.”

You agreed with Steve. “He has. But he’s never lost a brother, or his life to somebody’s cause. She’s gonna need help.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking over what had happened, what Steve had thought when the earth quite literally started to lift from beneath him, what had happened with Banner and Nat and then you gave him your news.

Bucky had been spotted.

The next time you saw Steve was at Agent Peggy Carter’s funeral. You sat at the back for most of it, watching as Steve helped carry the coffin and as people gave their eulogies.

You didn't know much about Peggy Carter personally, though you could remember learning about her in school. The founder of Shield, working alongside Captain America in her early career. And from meeting Steve, you’d come to know more about her. As well as how deeply both she and Steve were in love.

You’d seen the clips at the museum, and with Steve beside you, it gave them a whole other meaning. And even though Steve living through the ice and landing himself in the 21st century had given you one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had, part of you felt angry for him.

Angry at the fact he missed out on his chance with Peggy and that she had to live a life where, as far as anyone knew, Steve was dead.

A soldier and a love story left stranded in time.

You could remember when Steve had first visited Peggy, again.

And now he had to say goodbye, again.

“It was a beautiful service.”

Steve looked up and down the aisle to where you were walking towards him. He felt the breath get knocked out of him. Or maybe back into him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use a friendly face?”

A silent conversation then took place between you and Steve. Silent conversations weren’t unusual between you. A thousand words could be said in a look, but you’d both understand.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen after I leave here-”

“No, I know. I know.” You understood completely. After he walked out of the church, Nat would be leaving without him.

“Today’s been a lot. Tomorrow’s gonna be a lot.” You looked back at Steve. “Right now can just be…right now. You’ve lost someone, Steve. Right now you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don’t have to be Captain America right now.” Your gaze turned to Peggy’s picture. “I might not have met her, but I know you and I both know she would be telling you, you don’t have to be Captain America right now. At this moment, you’re just Steve: World War Two veteran who has just lost a great love in their life and deserves a moment to breathe.”

Steve gave you a weak smile, his emotions building up in his chest. “Thank you.”

Stepping forward, you wrapped Steve in a comforting hug and for the next twenty minutes, you both stayed inside the church.

There he told you the smaller facts about Peggy – the ones he’d learnt when she was with him and his Howling Commandos.

But then the time came to leave.

Walking down the different streets, hearing time tick away, you and Steve soaked up what time you could before everything was about to go to shit.

And on a bench beside the River Thames, you and Steve said your goodbyes. Both of you knew something was going to go wrong. What that was exactly, neither of you could put your finger on it. But something was going to happen.

It was only a matter of time.

“Here.”

“What’s this?”

Steve read the piece of paper. It was a set of coordinates.

“I own a house. It’s in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Europe. If anything happens, Ross can’t touch you. The house had been in my family’s name for generations but one of my great aunt’s left it to me. It’s yours to use.”

“Y/n-”

“Take it, Steve. Nobody knows it exists so they won’t find you. It’s run down but there should be running water.”

Steve finally accepted it. “Thank you. You know, if Tony ever finds out about this, he’s gonna believe that you are a witch from a vampire family.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I am, you just don’t know it.”

Steve shrugged, pocketing the paper safely.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

You took his hand. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

You tried your best to avoid the tears, but they were trying their hardest anyway.

“Just promise me one thing, Steve.”

Steve nodded, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Be safe?”

You nodded. “Be safe.”

Your eyes locking with his, Steve decided to take a risk. There was a chance he might never be able to see you again. Whatever was going to happen, the first person they’d put a tail on would be you.

He kissed you.

With your hand on his lapel, you held him closer. It was short and bittersweet, but the memory of him and his kiss would forever be seared into your brain.

And for a few moments, you just held onto each other, fearful of opening your eyes and accepting that one of you would have to walk away.

With his finger, Steve gently brushed the stray hair from your face away and behind your ear before kissing you quickly for a second time.

“One of us has to say goodbye.”

“I know,” you sniffed. “I know.”

“If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it's that you walked into that room when you did. You were the first person to treat me like one and to help me. Thank you for wanting to escape that party.”

You laughed through the tears. “You never have to thank me for that. It’s crazy to think I almost didn’t go.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.”

Looking at each other for one final time, you leaned in and kissed him. You prayed that his hand by your waist would leave a brand – a different pain to carry with you than the one in your heart.

Feeling yourself stand, the kiss broke away and you were the first to say goodbye.

Walking down the stone pavement, you looked behind you before you turned a corner, only to find Steve had already gone. Between the bustling people, the bench you’d both just been sitting at was exactly that.

A bench.

Going home, you tried to find a way to keep yourself busy but no matter where you looked, everything reminded you of him. The movies you’d watched with him, the ones you didn’t. The pizza’s shared, and soda spilt, the curtain, bedsheets, books, clothes, pictures.

You had some of his artwork in your house. Some of them people, most of landscapes – people and places you’d seen together.

And in an album under your bed, you had his letters.

Each one in its original envelope on one page and the pictures he’d drawn of the skyline from wherever he’d been.

Some evenings, you’d reread his letters – still able to hear his voice.

Then the headlines started to roll in.

Captain America was a fugitive and had broken his team out of a high secure facility.

And for almost two years a hunt was put on for him. You were interviewed every couple of months with the same questions.

Did you know where he was? Had he contacted you? What information did he share with you?

Just because you’d given him a set of coordinates didn’t mean he’d use them. The last time you’d heard from Steve was in London and the only information he’d shared with you that day was about Peggy Carter and some of the old stories of when he was first in London in the 40s.

In the meantime, your parents had convinced you to attend different dinner parties, charity shows, fundraisers and galas, all the while helping you find a date.

Most of the people your mother had first introduced you to years ago, they were recently married. But the single ones she’d found; you dated some, though it never went any further than a sixth date – usually the date after your parents invited them to attend dinner.

But no matter the fancy meal, or the conversation, or the man; none of them could beat a pizza, soda, a movie and…

Steve.

None of them could beat Steve.

But that all changed one afternoon when you were gardening.

Living in the city had reminded you too much of Steve, and with the constant reminders of the memories and new threats and superheroes popping up, you decided to find somewhere nice to live.

Someplace…simple.

So, buying a house outside of the city with a few acres of land, you started renovating. Any business meetings you had could be done online which meant you had more time to fix your new home up.

The smell of plaster, paint and sawdust filled your home for most of the days until finally things started to come together. New windows and locks were installed, the faulty taps were fixed and finally the entire place was given a new lease of life.

And just as you were half way through with fixing your garden; planting some flowers and digging patches for a small allotment, a car pulled up outside your drive.

On your knees in the dirt, it took a moment for your eyes to focus on the person climbing out of the car in the distance.

They were tall, broad and had a beard.

However, the closer they got, memories started to kick in. The walk, the frame…

You stood up and walked closer until you stopped again, feeling the breath being knocked out of you.

“Oh, my god…”

He watched as you stopped in your tracks, your brain confirming who he was. Then you started running. Across the grass and onto the gravel path, you collided with Steve.

“This is you, I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Steve shook his head and he held onto you, the essence of you filling his senses.

“No, you’re not dreaming.”

You leaned back and looked at him before hugging him again.

Finally, Steve set you back onto your feet and his hands remained at your waist.

“Why are you back? Last I heard…”

“The team and I are keeping our distance for a few days. Nat’s headed to Ohio and Sam is trying to see his sister. It’s the best way to avoid Ross.”

You nodded, checking him over. He didn’t seem like he was dying.

With a hand on his cheek, you smiled a little, pointing out the obvious. “You grew a beard.”

Steve smiled a little. “Helps me blend in.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled. “It suits you.”

Holding gently onto your wrist, Steve turned his head and kissed your palm and for a second you closed your eyes, leaning into him.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Placing your hand over his heart, Steve seemed to bear into your soul. “So am I.”

What followed was two hours of conversation around where he’d been and what he’d been doing since he left, and what you had been doing.

Then he started to help. Painting the porch on the back of the house as you continued planting in the back garden, you spent time together.

Time that was all too precious knowing he was on a clock.

“Where did you learn to cook?” You asked Steve as you helped him chop up veg.

With a smile on his face, Steve continued to prepare dinner. “I have a contact in Scotland. Their aunt runs a cafe and needed a few extra hands in the kitchen.”

As you helped Steve prepare dinner, you listened to the stories he’d gathered over his time away. Scotland, Spain, Germany, Italy, England, Poland, Norway, and many others.

Once dinner was finished, you started to clean up. But from the table, Steve looked at you standing by the sink in front of the window.

You’d never left his thoughts.

Sat on that bench in London, he watched you walk away and for a moment, he remained where he was. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to see you again – not without heavy restrictions.

He wanted you so desperately to turn around, but if you did, he would have followed you. He would have stood up and ran after you.

So he left.

He left before you could look around, he left before he would stop fighting himself and follow you.

And each day he woke up, for the few moments in the morning where he would forget what had happened, where he would forget the world he’d been found in, he thought about you. He thought about calling you or writing you a letter. He thought about seeing you when he’d roll over in bed. But each time…

You weren’t there.

You weren’t with him.

You were at your home, thousands of miles from him.

And he had no way of talking to you.

Walking across the kitchen floor to you, he placed a hand on your waist before reaching across to the window cill.

“What are you doing?” You smiled.

Looking at you and turning up the dial, Steve smiled. “Come with me.”

Taking the cloth from your hand, Steve dropped it back into the bowl of soapy water and took your hand in his. Then, pulling you into the middle of the kitchen with him, you both started to slow dance.

“What’s this for?”

Steve shrugged, holding your hand over his heart once again. “I don’t know how long I’ve got with you. Figured we could spend it not washing up.”

You felt yourself smile. “I think I like that.”

It was soft and slow. Swaying with the beat until the radio turned static, you and Steve remained in each other's arms.

“Can you stay the night?”

Steve nodded.

“Good.”

The night soon settled over your home, the stars slowly emerging from behind the clouds. With your porch taking on a blue hue in its own shadow, you and Steve sat side by side on your porch swing.

Your hair still a little damp from your shower, Steve continued to run his fingers through it. And with your head on his chest, you let his heart beat calm you. For a moment, Steve turned his nose into your hair and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

After a few moments, he didn’t say anything. Not that you would have heard anything considering your body was begging for sleep.

Carefully standing, Steve slipped one of his arms around your back and one under your legs before carrying you inside. He tucked you under your bed covers before making his rounds, locking up the doors and windows. Finally, he got in beside you.

For years, he’d dreamed of it.

Being with you, by your side, a domestic and loving day before laying beside you knowing he would be waking up beside you every morning.

And Steve smiled as in your sleep you moved closer to him, your arms wrapping across his middle.

You couldn’t remember when you’d gone from the porch to your bed, but you could remember Steve. Feeling his arms around you, his heartbeat under your cheek, his lips on yours…

“Hey,”

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed by your legs, fully dressed.

“Hey, what time is it?”

Steve kept his eyes on you. “A little after four.”

You gave a groan and closed your eyes again. Steve chuckled. Reaching out, he gently swept the hair from your eyes, your head turning towards him. With his hand on your cheek, he felt your smile.

It was your turn to hold onto him and kiss his palm.

And just as the knowing sadness started to grow, Steve still smiled, leaning forward and kissed you.

You would never get bored of his kiss.

Peppering it out, you held onto his face before your hands slipped around his back and you held him closer.

With a sigh, Steve held you closer to him, trying to imprint the feeling of you in his arms.

Trying your best to ignore the growing tears, you spoke.

“Just promise me you’ll be safe?”

Steve chuckled a little. “You know you’re the only one who's allowed to kill me. But I promise.”

“Good.”

Holding on a little tighter, you silently begged for more time with him. But the clock was ticking.

From above, there was deep rumbling.

“You better go,” you told Steve.

It took him a moment before he let go and with one final kiss, it was his turn to say goodbye.

Hearing his boots walk across the floor of your bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room and towards your front door.

You heard his pause for a moment and in that moment, you wondered what he would do if you called out for him.

But he couldn’t stay any longer.

People needed him.

The world needed him.

Hearing your front door click open, Steve’s footsteps trailed off as it closed once more until eventually the only sound that was left was the ever quieting sound of a rumbling jet engine.

Six months later, half of the world disappeared.

With a snap of Thanos’ fingers, Steve watched as half of his team, his family, disappeared. And upon returning back to the Avengers’ compound, you were his first call.

Only, you never answered.

“Go.” Natasha told him.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Making a break for it, Steve ran down into the garage before hopping on his bike. He’d made it to yours in half the time.

Pulling up, he started calling out for you. His voice filled with desperation and fear, he ran up to your front door.

It was unlocked.

He almost tripped inside as he tried the door, the hinges getting stuck.

“Y/N!”

He raced around your home; checking the kitchen, living room, pantry, washing room, office, bathroom, and the bedrooms before finally reaching yours.

The bedding was strewn a little, the soft lines of the fitted sheet folded into where you would have been laying. The pain in Steve’s chest seemed to grow heavier by the minute.

You weren’t here.

One hand on his hip, another covering his mouth, Steve turned around in a slow circle. Tears pricking at his eyes, his mind had gone from running a thousand miles a minute to…being completely overrun by pain.

He had nearly a thousand chances to be with you, to share a life with you that he’d always dreamed of – all before everything went to hell.

But it was too late.

You were gone.

Just like half of the world, you were gone.

Gripping onto the cold metal of your bed frame, Steve tried to steady himself.

You were gone.

Somewhere behind him, he heard a click.

His entire body stilled.

Slowly turning around he found…

No one.

Somewhere down the hall, a door closed.

As quietly as he could, Steve walked from your bedroom and down the hallway. The noises started to compile together.

Shoes shuffling, a bag being thrown onto a counter, a bucket handle rattling against itself.

From a corner, Steve saw an apron thrown across the back of a kitchen chair. A tap started to pour before someone switched it off.

Then someone started to hum.

You started to hum.

Fully stepping into the kitchen doorway, Steve felt the entire life get knocked back into him.

Then you turned around.

He scared the shit out of you.

The bucket slipping out of your hand, it knocked against your sink, the water spilling down the drain.

Just as it did, you recognised him.

Rushing forward, Steve enveloped you into his arms, your feet lifting from the ground.

“You’re alive,” you breathed.

“I thought you were gone.” Steve mumbled into your shoulder, holding onto you tighter.

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“He won.”

Steve set you back down on your feet and for the first time in almost seven months, you finally got a good look at him. He looked tired, worn. Beaten.

“We almost did it, but he won.”

“Whose left?”

Steve tried his best to name those who were left.

“We think Tony’s gone but we can’t be sure.”

The tears were falling from Steve’s cheeks as he told you. Wiping them away, you pulled him back into a hug.

“I tried calling you but when you didn’t answer…” You could feel Steve’s entire body shaking under you. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Steve, honey, you need to sit down. Let me get you some water.”

As you sat him down, Steve watched as you moved around your kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, running the tap until it was cold before handing it to him.

“I’ll make you some food. When did you last eat? You should call Nat.”

“Right.”

After calling and updating Nat, Steve hung up the phone. And for the next few hours, Steve talked you through everything he could; right up to him running through your door.

In the months that followed, a transition started to take place. People had to get used to a world where half of the people they loved were gone.

And somewhere between Steve finding you in your kitchen and Tony and Pepper having their daughter, yourself and Steve finally came together.

Properly.

This time there were no goodbye kisses and fear of never seeing each other again. That biggest fear had been and gone.

What you were left with was…acceptance.

Acceptance that you had both almost completely lost each other for good. There was no point in avoiding feelings, or being scared of what might happen.

You both had a chance at a life together.

So you both took it.

From then on your home with Steve became interchangeable between the Avengers compound and your house. Saving her from the lifetime supply of peanut butter sandwiches, you dragged Natasha when you could to your home with Steve and made her a decent meal.

Being out in the open also gave her a breath of fresh air away from the training facility walls that never changed colour.

And eventually things…settled.

People found a new way of life, coming back each year to celebrate those who were lost. And then new life was brought into the mix.

Not too long after Pepper had given birth to Morgan, you were faced with a positive pregnancy test result yourself.

And Natasha was your first call.

“What’s going on? I have an extra gun in the car if we need it.”

You showed it to her. “What does that show?”

“Holy shit, you’re pregnant.”

A small whimper left your lips as you handed her the test stick and started pacing around your bathroom.

“Are…are we not happy about that?”

You whimpered again as you paced up and down. “I-I don’t know. We-we haven’t planned anything. I mean, we’ve talked about it a few times but what if something goes wrong? Are you sure it was positive?”

Natasha looked back at it. “Well, it’s got a plus sign so-”

“It’s the third I’ve taken this week. The other two came up invalid but that one was like a bright flashing light.”

Reaching for you by the shoulders, Natasha sat you down. “Okay, first off, breathe.”

You did so.

And then some more.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go and get you another box of tests. Proper ones, not these things. And you’re gonna call Steve.”

“He’ll probably pass out. Why do you think I called you?”

Natasha laughed. “Just call him. I’ll be right back.”

And she was.

Walking back inside, she called out and Steve called back.

Three minutes later, you were all huddled in the bathroom waiting for the result to finally show.

“What if it’s a false positive? If it’s positive-positive, will I be able to carry the baby?”

Crouching down in front of you, Steve held your hand. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?”

You took a breath and nodded. Leaning up, Steve kissed you and you kissed him back.

You’d been having conversations about starting a family together for a while, but neither of you had started planning it just yet. Mostly because you hadn’t gotten around to it. And you didn’t know if you could even carry Steve’s kid. For all either of you knew, the serum would carry onto your child.

Natasha looked at her phone.

“It’s time.”

With a shaky breath, you and Steve stood. However, you paused as you reached for the test.

“Count me down.”

Steve chuckled softly, counting back from three.

After one, you turned it over.

Pregnant 3+ weeks

You felt yourself smile and laugh a little before showing Steve.

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

Taking the test from your hands, Steve took one look at it before the water-works started.

Nine months later, inside the Avengers compound, Natasha was walking with you.

“Once they started arguing over what the manual said, I made a break for it.”

Tony had surprised you and Steve at your home and after an hour, Steve had wrangled him in to help build the crib. It was the final thing that needed to be built and since Steve had banned you from lifting heavy things since you had elected to ignore your midwife and pushed the crib from the living room and into the nursery. You couldn’t help.

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Well, I might be biassed but Natasha is a really good name.”

You laughed a little. “I’ll think about it.”

Natasha smiled, holding onto your hand as she helped you down one of the narrower steps.

However, halfway around the building, you stopped.

“Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Just a bit of cramp.”

But it wasn’t just cramp.

Barely a second later, you felt water trail down your leg until there was a louder splash against the tiles.

“Oh, shit.”

You looked down. “Oh, my god.”

“Okay, okay. We’re okay.”

You nodded, taking hold of her hand as she walked you down the hall.

“Steve’s old room is just down the hall. Once we get you there-”

“Call him.”

“I know, I will.”

“No, call him now. Please.”

Twenty minutes later, Tony’s car was kicking gravel up and onto the windshield. Steve ran inside, nearly taking out a few employees on the way.

Almost fifteen hours later, a healthy baby girl was delivered.

With her in Steve’s arms, bundled in a fresh baby blanket, everyone stood around the bed.

“Only took you a decade.”

Steve chuckled, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his daughter. And neither could you.

And for almost four years, it was blissful.

As your daughter grew up, Steve told her stories and showed her pictures of the 40s. Even at the age of three, she seemed wise beyond her years.

Then one night, everything changed.

Recently, she hadn’t been sleeping. So, lay in bed with you whilst Steve was still at work, you told her a few bedtime stories but when Steve came in an hour or so later, he found her still awake.

“You should be asleep,” he whispered to her.

“I tried. Mommy fell asleep, though.”

Steve looked over and smiled. “Come on, let your mom sleep.”

Picking his daughter up, Steve carried her down the hall, leaving his jacket on the bed beside you. Making sure to close the door behind him, Steve started to talk to his daughter.

Their conversation eventually turned to someone from Steve’s past.

“Daddy, whose that?”

Steve looked at the photo. It was him and Bucky during his army days, though both were out of uniform and in civilian clothing. There weren't many pictures of Bucky in normal clothes.

“That’s Uncle Buck.”

“But he’s not in green.”

Steve chuckled. “You’re right, he’s not. That was when we were in London. Pinky, one of the Howling Commandos, decided to take us on a tour of London.”

“Wow.”

She was awe-struck.

“Does he know I was born?”

Steve felt a pang in his chest. “Maybe. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I’ve told him.”

“Would he like me?”

Steve smiled. “He’d love you.”

Kissing her temple, Steve sat down in one of the chairs. “Try and get some sleep.”

Steve himself must have fallen asleep because next thing he knew, you were waking him up. Your daughter was still fast asleep, he carried her to bed before you led him down the hall and he collapsed onto your shared bed.

The next time he woke up that morning, everything you both knew was about to change.

Time Travel.

There was a chance everyone could be brought back.

And after a long conversation, one that was overheard by your daughter who had been playing in the back garden with the family dog, Steve accepted what he had to do.

“You and Aunty Nat will have pictures again.”

Handing Steve a slightly mud scattered, crinkled, crayon drawing; your daughter had drawn a picture with everyone on it.

Herself, you, the dog, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam with his wings, Clint with his bow and arrow, Thor and his hammer, Tony, Bruce…the stick men with different items, standing on a green field with a corner sun, continued on and on.

It was that night you kissed Steve and he said what could have been his final goodbye to your daughter. She held onto him tightly, telling him she loved him. The only thing that carried him on his feet was the thought of going through what Scott was.

In the time he got stuck, he thought his daughter was gone.

Steve would have done anything to get his daughter back.

And it didn’t take much for him to remember the pain that washed through and over him when he thought he lost you.

Scott, like many others, had lost someone they loved. So had Steve. But he hadn’t lost you, though he thought he did.

People needed their families back.

And that’s what they got.

At the cost of Tony’s life.

After everything had settled, you drove as fast as you could to find Steve. And you found him far outside of the Avengers compound, crouched on the floor.

“Steve!? Steve!”

Looking up, he spotted you amongst the grey smoke. A shining light in the darkness.

Running as fast as you could, you eventually reached him.

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know if you were okay. Are you okay?”

Steve’s voice was quiet. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? Who’s gone?”

Steve’s voice broke. “T-tony. Tony’s gone.”

“Oh, my god.”

As Steve hugged you, you held him as tightly as you could. He asked about your daughter.

“She’s with my dad back home. She’s safe. She just needs a cuddle from her dad.”

Steve nodded. “I think I need one from her, too.”

Two weeks later, Steve brought Bucky and Sam home.

“Honey, come here.” Your daughter ran to her dad’s side. “Sam, Buck. I’d like you to meet Aurora. Rory, honey, this is Sam and Bucky.”

Sam knelt down and shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, miss.”

Meanwhile, Bucky was in pure shock. Slowly, he knelt beside Sam and Bucky felt his life flash before his eyes.

“Steve…she looks like your mom.”

As Rory studied Bucky, she decided to hug him. Sam smiled and so did you and Steve. And eventually Bucky hugged her back, frightened he might break her.

“Can I show them my room?”

The consensus was yes and whilst Sam was dragged towards her bedroom, Rory shouting for you to follow, Bucky and Steve followed behind.

Inside her room, her walls were covered in different pictures she’d drawn of the different stories Steve had told her. Of course, most of them were stick men, but the message was still clear.

A week later, a funeral was held for Tony and the Stones had to be returned.

Standing beside Bucky as Steve stood on the platform, Aurora stood and waited in between both of you.

And in what was a few seconds later, Steve returned with Natasha by his side.

Aurora gasped and bolted forward.

“Aunty Nat!”

“Careful, kiddo.” Steve warned just before Aurora collided with her, but Natasha shook her head.

“It’s okay.”

Lifting her into her arms, she hugged her tightly.

“You’re back.”

Natasha smiled. “Thanks to your dad.”

Looking at her dad, she smiled before hugging Natasha again.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Natasha nodded and carried Rory back towards you before everyone started running over. Meanwhile, you watched as Steve walked over to Sam.

Ten minutes later, your daughter bolted from the crowd and towards her dad who was finally out of his protection suit.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Seeing you again, Steve kissed you before kissing Rory’s cheek.

“Everything okay?”

Steve watched as Fury made his way over to Sam, and he smiled.

“Everything’s good.”

Kissing you again, Steve smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For walking into that room when you did.” Steve told you. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to do something about it.”

You shook your head, looking from him to your daughter and back to him. “It happened when it was meant to.”

Steve smiled before he kissed you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tony was right; Steve found the life with you he’d always wanted, even if it did take him a decade to do something about it.

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