#cracking my knuckles and opening a document with a sigh

[lesspopped]

love that fandom seems to have pretty much immediately pegged michael and rayner’s sexual dynamic as “he wants her to stroke his hair and call him a good boy”. fandom gets many things wrong but once in awhile it gets something right. great job team

[sincerelybubbles]

it's a date || spencer reid x reader

part 2

warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read

word count: 6.1k

You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention. 

You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you. 

You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.

“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight. 

“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind. 

You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”

Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain. 

“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”

“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”

He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door. 

“Just Gideon is fine.”

Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous. 

“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.

“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. 

“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”

“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.

“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee. 

You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”

You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”

“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”

“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”

You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.

“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”

When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply. 

It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.

“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over. 

“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”

You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide. 

You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge. 

Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.

“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove. 

“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”

“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh. 

“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.

“I’ll give her a call.”

He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor. 

He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book. 

“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”

He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.

You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.

“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”

“I would actually love –”

“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”

“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand. 

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”

He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta. 

Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart. 

You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news. 

Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?

You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.

||||

“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting. 

You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident. 

All FBI, if you had to wager a bet. 

“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”

“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well. 

“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”

“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face. 

“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief. 

“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”

“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest. 

“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”

“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”

“Sorry?” You ask, startled. 

“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”

“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression. 

“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere. 

“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile. 

“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.

“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”

You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder. 

“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile. 

“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are. 

“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted. 

“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him. 

“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”

||||

Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space. 

The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones. 

“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically. 

“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head. 

“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”

You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”

“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name. 

The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone. 

Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait. 

You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in. 

“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks. 

“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.

“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack. 

“Making sandwiches!”

“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”

“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”

“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”

“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”

Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”

You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something. 

“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder. 

“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”

“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow. 

“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him. 

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”

You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”

||||

“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up. 

“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains. 

“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”

“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”

“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little. 

You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one. 

“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted. 

“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread. 

You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him. 

The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it. 

“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”

“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes. 

“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him. 

“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”

“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about. 

You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere. 

You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable. 

“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”

“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away. 

“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms. 

“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”

“We have to.”

“It certainly works out better when you do.”

“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly. 

“And you tried to transfer?”

“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.

“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”

“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”

“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”

“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”

||||

“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something. 

“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers. 

“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging. 

“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering. 

He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct. 

“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”

You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”

“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back. 

“Well, thank you?”

“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”

“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”

“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”

“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”

“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”

You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” Elle says kindly. 

Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored. 

You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory. 

As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught. 

You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street. 

Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food. 

The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street. 

You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs. 

“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks. 

“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer. 

“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”

“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”

“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house. 

“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head. 

“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”

Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window. 

“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology. 

You wish he hadn’t. 

Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again. 

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle. 

||||

You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts. 

You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway. 

Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side. 

“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”

You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun. 

“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks. 

“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”

“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low. 

“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”

For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”

The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms. 

The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid. 

“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy. 

The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head. 

“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”

The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket. 

“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team. 

After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway. 

“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you. 

“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”

“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away. 

“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it. 

“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”

“How so?”

You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile. 

“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”

“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”

“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”

“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”

Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”

“I’m asking.”

“Okay, then it’s a date.”

i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh

lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!

[carni-val]

When you know, you know [Carmen Berzatto]

pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

summary: Carmy has a problem saying I love you, but he's got no problem showing it.

warnings: Slight angst if you squint really hard, some fluff

author’s notes: Yeah, it's been a year since I've written something but my current hyperfixation on The Bear has really inspired me to write. Carmy's struggle with saying I love you is so real, but I sincerely feel he's an acts of service man. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you so much for reading!

She stood at the opening of the door, looking down on him. She worked a full shift and she was still as beautiful as when she woke up this morning. He, on the other hand, looked dishevelled; he was sure of it. His hair was all over the place from running his hands through the mass of curls with a thin sheen of sweat layered over his skin and he was still a little self-conscious about the smell of the restaurant that had clung to him upon his arrival, as Sugar mentioned earlier.

She didn’t seem to mind though as she knelt down on the floor beside him. Overdue invoices and notes scribbled down in his brother’s chicken scratch surrounded him on the office floor.

She was closer now, and yes, still beautiful.

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey,” he couldn’t help but huff out a sigh.

Prepping the menu and serving it to all the customers was more than enough work for the day, especially with the disastrous system Richie insisted on upholding. The bed he’d been dreaming about collapsing into, beside her, seemed to get more and more distant with more of the shit he uncovered in the office. Who knew an office so small could have so much shit hiding in it?

“Still sorting, huh?” her eyes held sympathy for him, noticing how tired he looked.

“Still sorting,” he confirmed, his eyes softening when they met hers. “I think it’s gonna be another long night for me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Can I help?” she asked, already scanning the documents.

“No, I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you go home and go to bed?” he reached out and stroked her cheek with his hand, cupping her jaw with the palm of it.

She leaned into his touch, “You’ve had a long day too, and I’ve got the day off tomorrow. Let me help.” She settled down on the floor next to him. “What can I do?”

Carmy’s gaze lingered on her. If he thought about it all too long, he’d break down, he was sure of it, so he simply asked her to organize the overdue invoices — ones for the restaurant, ones for the inventory and so on.

“Yes chef,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

Carmy felt the laugh escape him before shaking his head. He watched her for a moment.

He really—

He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. Maybe it was something to do with Donna, or the fact that he never really had a girlfriend before her, or because he still couldn’t figure out what the hell she was still doing with him.

His breath caught as he felt a twinge in his chest. He brought a hand up to soothe it and she looked over at him.

“Bear?” her warm hand reached up and pressed against his. “You okay?”

The concern in her eyes stole his breath but it soothed the ache in his chest. He felt a hint of embarrassment, desperately not wanting to have a panic attack in front of her. He didn’t want to scare her.

So he just nodded and let a smile stretch across his face, albeit tight-lipped.

She wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push him. She just took his hand in hers and kissed his tattooed knuckles.

His smile cracked, revealing his teeth, and it was more genuine. She seemed convinced, releasing his hand and turning back to the work.

“You hungry? Can I make you something to eat?” he asked instead.

“I’m okay, I had a late lunch.”

“Are you sure? It’ll take me a minute.”

“I’m sure,” she smiled up at him. “I just wanna get this done so you can get to bed.”

Her hand reached up and held his cheek this time. She ran her thumb underneath the bag of his eye. After kissing the palm of her hand, they got to work.

After almost three hours of sorting, Carmy excused himself for a smoke break.

“Can I make you something?” he offered once again, standing in the doorway.

She shook her head, deciding that he’d done enough cooking for the day. Although she was starving at this point, she just wanted to get Carmy home and to bed so he could rest.

Although he lingered at the door for a moment, to probably try and convince her, he decided against it, leaving the office with his cigarettes in hand.

She knew he loved to cook for her, always watching her as she took the first bite of anything he cooked for her, but seeing the toll the restaurant had taken on him after only just a week was beginning to worry her. That’s why whenever her stomach grumbled, she let out a cough or ruffled some papers around to try and mask the sound. She knew Carmy would put her before himself and she couldn’t allow that.

She decided she’d eat once he went to bed, or maybe when he got into the shower.

Yeah. The shower seemed like a good idea.

A great one actually.

Spending three hours sorting through paperwork seemed like enough to call it a night — seven hours since she had lunch. Her stomach grumbled again and she could swear she smelt hints of beef, sautéed onions and peppers in the air.

She really needed to get home.

At the thought, the door to the office opened and behind her stood Carmy with two plates, a sandwich on each of them.

“Carmy-“

She began to protest but he stopped her. He knelt down, not having to dodge copious amounts of papers now that everything was sorted into neat, organized piles.

“I could hear your stomach from out there,” he nodded his head towards the kitchen.

A sheepish expression overtook her face as she looked down to the steaming contents within the sandwich.

“This looks and smells amazing, Bear.”

“Tastes even better,” he held out a plate to her.

Eagerly, she took the plate in one hand and picked up the sandwich with the other and took a bite. Flavours melded together to cause a more than satisfactory feeling to overcome her. Her ravenous stomach finally settled while begging for more at the same time.

She hummed as she chewed, nodding her head in complete ecstasy. Carmy laughed, ducking his head and shaking it slightly at her theatrics. She laughed along with him.

His bashful expression made her heart swell. He had never been more attractive to her. Seeing him do the thing he was so talented at was a sight she could never grow tired of. But the drive and determination that oozed out of him as he worked to whip this restaurant into shape opened up a whole new side to Carmy that she’d never seen before. 

She loved him.

Not that she would say it again, because the one time she did, she watched how catatonic Carmy became. After his sincerest apologies, she assured him it was okay.

She decided to let it hang in the air and let him say it when he felt okay to do so.

In the meantime, she’d revel in the ways he showed her.

[auggie-beaniessssss]

Cancelled Episode 8 "Thirsty Hearts"

"Yo mama so stupid, she sold her house to pay the mortgage!"

-yo mama jokes series

And now came the moment of truth. Death, or a free release?

And the answer was.....neither. Well, we're not killed, but we're certainly not being released, hell, lead to believe we've been released but secretly still technically under jail time.

Well. That fateful moment, the half-blood came into the interrogation room all smiles and happys about.

I swear, he was literally bouncing into the room like a cheerful little girl who just received a nice cookie or candy from her teacher and couldn't wait to eat it later and was bouncing all the way back home.

And even the way he sat down, with a nice plunk down on the seat like releasing a heavy wooden stick after carrying it for a long time, with a plunk and he sat down on the seat, opened up his laptop and searched for the relevant documents.

Hmph. They can release the wooden stick, and yet they can't even release a convict convicted of the major crime of slightly inconveniencing the rich and powerful. Simply unjust!

Oh. He's finally found the right document. Alright, let's open up and see what it is...

"Well, before I let you listen to your Master's statement, I must warn you, it's gonna be quite the shock..."

Oh. Master shocks me everyday, you're gonna have to take much more than that to beat me.

But then again, I guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up high that he wouldn't disappoint...

"I am the one they call their leader, I sent them out that day to extract information regarding this man named...*insert deep sigh here* Tsydhd, from this man named the Emerald Warrior. Information included his whereabouts, and any and all information pertaining to his latest crimes of...many, which I would rather not say, mainly because...I may also not know them..."

Well I seriously doubt the recording ends there but that's where it does.

"So. It appears that...some of what you and the other guy was saying were...false. But can we really trust your leader's words? Well, we couldn't, and really were about to execute you all regardless of whether he correlated or contradicted your statements, but then...he brought up an interesting as hell point."

I gulp. The points Master bring up usually...aren't really that...pointy.

"He mentioned this man. Tsydhd. And the Emerald Warrior, one of our most wante criminals. Since we definitely weren't able to catch him without you...we're offering you a deal. Since ya'll look like good people, you, can join our ranks as an invisible member, and help us investigate certain cases we'll need your help. If you're helpful, we'll release you for real and even offer protection. If you dare play games..." He cracked his knuckles.

Again I do not have a choice.

I leaned in with a wide, clearly forced smile plastered on my face, "Of course, I gladly accept,"

[itsonlydana]

hi can you maybe write cc foolish with a s/o who overworks themselves?

"come to bed"➷ Foolish

➛ pairing: cc!Foolish x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: you were so concentrated on your work that you didn't even notice how late it has gotten. If it weren't for Foolish you would have worked until dawn

➛ tags/warnings: fluff

➛ an: to anyone who might find themselves in this situation: take a small break, drink some water and maybe have some fruit <3 you can do this but your body needs rest as well to function properly!

➛ tagging: @icarusthefoolish

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The tapping of your fingers on the keyboard clacked through the quiet study, keeping you in the almost trance-like state of writing away, filling the document in front of you with sentences that were very likely to need complete revision in the morning. But you didn't have time for that right now, first of all you had to write something halfway meaningful at all. In nine days was the deadline for submitting this project and while that actually gave you enough buffer, you didn't want to fall behind your schedule. A schedule that was about to burst at the seams, like a slowly overboiling pot on the stove. Every time you looked at the paper diagonally next to you, it felt like there was more. 

Next to your desk was an untouched sandwich that you had long forgotten about, next to it three empty cups that you had drunk up so quickly that no coffee rim could form. They had been one of the desperate attempts to ignore the oppressive fatigue a little further-another paragraph....

Whenever you paused to close your slowly burning eyes for a few seconds, you regretted it, found it harder to open them again afterwards, and it was only the fear of not finishing in time that made you sit up and force yourself to erase the last typed words, a jumble of half-asleep typed letters, and rephrase it.

You didn't notice how it had quieted down in the bedroom next door, no half-shouted curses about miserable opponents in Overwatch flowing to you from under your door crack. Instead, there was the soft clack of a doorknob being pushed down, shuffling footsteps in the hallway muffled by a rug, and a soft tap of knuckles on the closed door of the study.

"Baby?"

At the voice of your boyfriend Foolish, raspy with fatigue, you jolted out of your trance of work. You leaned back in your chair smiling, ignoring the way your back pulled and your body yearned for your bed. At the sight of Foolish, the sluggishness disappeared for a moment. 

"Are you still streaming or have you stopped?" you asked him. After several hours of barely using your voice except for a few exasperated sighs and groans, the words rasped in your dry throat. 

Foolish stepped into the room, hands shoved into the pockets of his gym shorts, and shuffled up to you until he could lean down to rest his chin on your head. "Been done for half an hour, didn't you see my message?" 

Confused, you shook your head and reached into your pants pocket. Sure enough, twenty minutes ago Foolish had sent you a "ready, bed? :)" You hadn't noticed the vibrate. You looked from the phone back to the flickering monitor in front of you. "I'll be done in a minute, then I'll join you. Okay?", you gave him a smile, the corners of your mouth heavy with the fatigue that had spread throughout your body. 

Foolish didn't move though, just looked at you shaking his head. "Babe, it would be much better to continue working in the morning".

You too shook your head and turned back to the screen. "This can't wait Foolish. If I queue this up in the back too, I won't be able to finish the rest on the list either." For you, that was the end of the subject. You had explained to him why it was important to you to keep working and he would surely understand. Just to be on the safe side, you threw another "Go to bed already, I'll be up in a minute" over your shoulder. 

But Foolish mumbled weary disapproving noises in your ear, his nose pressed against your temple. "Bed," he mumbled, his lips pressed against your ear so that his warm breath tickled you. 

Sighing, you leaned your head back. "Foo-," you began, but were interrupted by his lips on your cheek. 

"Now," he murmured, a little more seriously. Foolish put his hand on yours on the mouse and guided the pointer to the "Save" box, which he clicked three times for safety's sake before shutting down - without a protest from you - your PC. As soon as the screen went black you felt a wave of relief that made your arms heavy. Your bones groaned as you slowly sat up, cracking free from the chair that had engulfed and taken you over the last few hours. Your legs were heavy as lead, each step a shuffle across the floor, and like every time you work far too late into the night, you immediately regretted it. 

But Foolish was there. Smiling, he took your hand in his, pulling you behind him out of the office and up to your bedroom, where you fell exhausted onto the covers. Foolish slid behind you, your back pressed against his chest, and buried his face in your neck. 

The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a soft, "I'm proud of you."

[demobatboys]

I Think We Both Know That Isn’t True Part 2 (Ruhn Danaan x AFAB Reader)

Pairing: Ruhn Danaan & AFAB Reader

Prompt: Part 2 of I Think We Both Know That Isn’t True

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, angst

Authors Note: Sooooo I got a little carried away and this one could definitely have a part 3 if anyone wanted it! Thank you to those who requested a part 2. And remember my requests are always open. 

____________________________________________________________

You sighed, picking your nails as you sat at your desk in the Aux headquarters. It was 4:35pm on a Friday and the clock seemed to be ticking extra slow as you waited for your work week to finish. It had nearly been a week since you had last spoken to Ruhn, you heart cracking for the umpteenth time as the sadness in Ruhn's eyes as you walked away flashed across your mind. You groaned, resting your head against the cool surface of your desk. You though that loving Ruhn from afar was one of the worst things you could experience but you were wrong. Not having him in your life at all was worse than anything you could have ever imagined. You had decided the night before, tossing and turning sleeplessly as you had been the whole week, that you would be the bigger person, apologise, and hope to the gods that he would want to remain in your life at some capacity.

Ruhn hadn’t been into headquarters all day, an incident in The Old Square keeping him and Tristan out of office for the entirety of the day. Declan was working from home, as he usually chose to do, and majority of the Aux had either knocked off early or were out patrolling, which left you at your cubicle alone. As the day has passed, the nerves in your stomach had broiled and bubbled, your heart stuttering and heavy saliva coating your mouth every time the doors opened and closed – only for you to have to calm yourself when you realised it wasn’t him coming through them. You and Ruhn had never fought like this before. There had never been this long of a period between speaking to one another, the only awkwardness between you had stemmed after you had given your body to him. And you had both decided to never do that again – against your deepest wishes.

Your suffering was cut short briefly before it revved back to life again when the doors swung open and Ruhn pushed through them, his mouth set into a hard line and eyes cold. The Starsword was slung across his back and you had to divert your eyes, stomach erupting into butterflies as he brought the bottom of his shirt up to wipe at the sweat on his brow – baring his glorious waist to you. He didn’t even spare a glance towards you as he strode straight towards his rarely used office, slamming the door behind him. The butterflies in your stomach ceased flying, dropping heavily, leaving nausea in their wake. “You can do this,” you whispered, shaking your clammy hands at your sides as you stood. “He’s your best friend,” you grabbed the pile of documents from the corner of your desk, taking tentative steps towards his office on legs seemingly made of jelly. Sure, he didn’t seem like he was in the mood right now but… if you didn’t do it at this very moment, you might never work up the nerve. Like ripping off a Band-Aid right?

You rapped your knuckles on the door, glancing through the square of glass. Ruhn whipped his head around, a frown etching its way onto his face as he took you in. He jerked his head, signalling you to enter. You pushed the door open, plastering a confident smile across your face as if your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest. There was no way he wouldn’t be able to hear it. “Hi,” you huffed nervously. Ruhn’s expression didn’t change – if anything he seemed bored. “Hi,” he muttered, eyes trained on the papers in your hands. “Oh yes,” you huffed nervously. “Just dropping these off,” you waved them a little enthusiastically before placing them on his desk. He nodded, raising an eyebrow, and glancing back at the door. Okay, you thought, now or never. “I was hoping we could talk?” you said, taking a step towards the empty seat on the other side of his desk. He let out a humourless laugh and rubbed a face over his hand. “I’ve had a shit day and this,” he motioned a hand between the two of you. “Is at the bottom of my priority list.” You stood rooted on the spot. Okay so, you didn’t think he would be this standoffish. 

“I know I’m sorry. You know me, my timing is always terrible,” you began to laugh but stopped when you realised he wasn’t joining in. “Look I just, I want to say sorry, and I want to talk to you about all of-,” he cut you off with another sobering laugh. “You’re the one who walked away. I didn’t realise you wanted to talk at all.” You wrung your hands together, itching to sprint from the room and never show your face again. But you held strong, standing your ground and smiling in frustration. “I don’t want to lose my friendship with you Ruhn,” you began. “That fight… it was awful. The worst we’ve ever had but. I don’t want to lose you over it. Not having you in my life at all is more painful than anything. More painful than watching you marry someone else. And I won’t have that happen just because of some things we said that we didn’t mean.” His eyes softened at your words, his frown slowly disappearing into that hard line again.

Your stomach flipped. Okay maybe this is a good sign, you thought, just need to nail the apology. “Look, I am really sorry about what I said and I’m going to re-evaluate both of our boundaries from now on,” you nodded. “It isn’t fair for me to act a certain way with you and then cuss you out for treating me accordingly. But same goes for you. If we’re sticking with friends, then… things need to stay friendly.” At this point Ruhn had his chin in his hand nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah… yeah ok. This week has been fucked – to say the least. And I understand where you are coming from and wanting to keep things… friendly,” he nearly choked on the word. “I guess I can forgive you,” he smiled softly in your direction, and you had to tell your heart to slow down before you passed out. “Why not do something for old times sake then? White Raven, tonight?” His eyes sparkled with mischief and you felt yourself grinning back. “Let’s do it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You nodded your head along to the beat of the music pounding from the speakers below, as you sat on a stool at the upstairs bar, nursing vodka lime soda number…. Shit you’d lost count. You had met Ruhn here after you head headed home to clean up, heat descending from your stomach straight into your panties when you had seen him ascend the stairs to the bar in black jeans and a tight black tshirt. It wasn’t even different to his usual look, but when his scent had invaded your space as he sat on the stool next to you, you had to have a serious chat with your libido and tell it to chill the fuck out. This was a friendship and that’s how things would stay. Hours had past and the more you drank the more you felt yourself relax and begin to shift into the friendship space with Ruhn more. This is a cakewalk, you laughed to yourself. I don’t even know what I’ve been worried about. Friendship is easy. As you and Ruhn chatted more and more, mostly catching up after your week apart, your heart seemed to settle into a comfortable hum inside your chest.

“I just need to go to the bathroom,” he said, standing up. You nodded, hastily pulling your eyes from his backside as he left. You finished off your drink and settled back into your stool contentedly. Suddenly you heard Ruhn’s voice again, turning to send him a smile, thinking he was on his way back. Instead, your eyes landed on him and the Leopard Shifter you had caught making her great escape from the boys house last week. Your blood ran cold as she placed her hand on his upper arm, laughing at something he said. You turned in your seat, skin suddenly on fire, tears rimming your eyes. You focused on your breathing, in, out, in, out, trying desperately to calm yourself before he returned and noticed what was happening. You had nothing against the Shifter, she was free to do what she wanted and she was beautiful and graceful, of course he would stop to speak with her. It had jarred you just how quickly you had been ripped from the friendship bubble you had carefully built and shoved straight into jealousy mode.

Ruhn slid back onto his stool as you blew out a breath of frustration, frantically hoping your tears had been sucked back into your ducts and that you didn’t seem as flustered as you appeared. Your hopes were dashed though when Ruhn’s brow furrowed, his eyes scanning your face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, draining the remainder of his drink. You smiled at him unnervingly. “Nothing!” you said a little too loudly. “I think I’ve had too much,” you laughed pointing at your glass. “I should go.” You gathered your things and began to step off the stool when you teetered and nearly fell entirely, Ruhn grabbing your arm at the last minute. Your skin burned and a sob began to roll up your throat. “I don’t know if you should go alone, why don’t you come back to the house tonight so I know you’re safe.” “No!” you exclaimed, pulling out of his grasp. “No I.. I think I can manage on my own,” you huffed, attempting to flee again. Ruhn rolled his eyes as you walked precariously towards the stairs before he swooped in, taking your hand. You reared back, taking your hand from his. “That’s not what friends do,” you warned him. He held his hands up in surrender. “Ok but friends do make sure friends get to bed safe. Please, just come with me. You can have the bed, I’ll take the floor.” His eyes bore into yours and you felt any fight you had in you melt away. “Fine.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ruhn pushed open the door of his room before letting you enter. He had cleaned since you had last been here, it smelling more strongly of his cologne and musk than beer and mirthroot. You sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. You were still anxious, and the uncomfortable knot in your chest continued to grow as you watched Ruhn grab a shirt for you from his closet, turning towards the door as you got dressed. You stripped to your underwear and pulled the shirt on, sliding under the covers and breathing in the scent of his pillows. “Can I turn the light off?” he asked, his voice husky as he kept it low. “Mhmm,” you replied. The room was plunged into darkness and slowly your eyes adjusted to the moonlight seeping in through the window. You watched him remove his shirt and jeans, your pulse jolting as he moved towards the bed.

He went to drag a pillow from the bed to the ground but you grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Stay,” you mumbled, at war with your own heart. “In the bed. Please.” Ruhn only complied, lying down next to you. “This isn’t what friends do,” he reminded you. You nodded. “Maybe. But maybe these friends do.” He hummed, his hand finding yours in the dark. “Are you going to tell me what really happened at the club or not?” his question echoed in the dark. You swallowed thickly, the remaining alcohol in your system apparently making your brain and mouth work in reverse. “I was jealous,” you admitted, skin aflame. “I didn’t want to be but I was. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over it because…” you inhaled sharply, pleading with your brain to shut your mouth and quickly. “I’m in love with you Ruhn.” You statement hung in the air uncomfortably. Ruhn didn’t say anything and for a moment you hoped he had fallen asleep before your confession was laid out.

But no such luck. “You are incredibly confusing, my little warrior,” he breathed out. Tears filled your eyes again and you sat up, regret and embarrassment tumbling in your stomach. You started to get out of bed when Ruhn pulled you into him, resting your head on his chest, his heart thundering beneath his warm skin. “I’ve loved you since we were 12. My heart, it only beats for you. It’s what I’ve always tried to tell you. But I don’t think this is how we should be having this conversation right now,” he sighed, running a course hand softly down the side of your face. You screwed your eyes shut, pressing your face against the warm skin of his neck. “We can’t do this,” you mumbled against him. He only held you tighter, pressing his lips against your forehead. “Get some sleep sweetheart,” he murmured. “We will get to the bottom of this in the morning,” his raspy voice sending goosebumps across your skin. “Even if I have to tie you to this bed.”

[merowkittie]

Helping Spider-man with his injuries <3

Notes: this is written for Andrew Garfield’s spider man but you can always imagine the others. (not proofread cause i’m lazy)

──༺♡༻──

There wasn’t much going on today besides the heavy rain from this morning. It gave the atmosphere a sad state. Though, the rain was needed for how how it’s been.

I sighed and sat up from laying in my bed for half of the day. I was supposed to be going on a date with Peter but there’s always something happening in Brooklyn.

I couldn’t blame him though. He just wants to keep the City safe. He wants to keep me safe.. but damnit that date would’ve been amazing!

I walked towards my desk, sitting down in my chair and opening my laptop. The screen was so bright, it was almost blinding.

I opened a document to start typing up an essay for my literature class. I love that class and the teacher but god was it stressful sometimes.

Half way through, I heard knocking on my window. It could be no other person but him.

I walked over to my bed and climbed on top of it, moving the curtains from the window and sliding it open.

“Hey there spider boy.” I smiled at the grinning boy.

“Hey bug..” he pulled me in for a quick kiss before coming into my room and standing by my desk.

I left the window cracked open and turned towards him.

“I’m still mad at you, Peter.”

“Aww, come on.. bug i’m sorry!” He practically whined at me.

I rolled my eyes at him and threw a playful punch to his side.

“Ow! Hey..” He groaned loudly and grabbed my fist.

I looked down at his side and saw the remnants of blood seeping through his suit.

“Peter! Why the fuck didn’t you say anything!” I sighed deeply and pushed him to sit on my desk chair.

“I was! Honest.”

I gave him a look and he instantly folded in on himself.

“So we’re you going to just get your nasty ass blood on my bed?” I asked him, grabbing the first aid kit from under my bed.

“Well, Sort of but I would’ve lazily wrapped my self up first and then bled on your bed, babe.”

“Peter, i’m going to kill you with this first aid kit.”

I placed it down on the desk and helped Peter slide his suit off so he was left in only his boxers.

(switching povs cause i hate first person)

You squatted down so you were level with abs and god.. besides the dangerous amount of blood leaking out it was a sight to see.

You grabbed the kit and opened it hastily looking around for alcohol wipes and a rag. He winced once you pressed the rag on to his wound.

You pressed a small kiss on his side hoping it’d calm him down at least a little.

After you wiped the area with alcohol wipes it looked like it’d need stitches and that is something Peter definitely didn’t trust you with.

“Bug, i’ll take it from here.” He kissed your knuckles and you nodded.

He’d ask you to pass him the needle and thread and the only thing he lets you do is tie it at the end.

“Look at you spider boy.. good as new!” you smiled up at him from between his thighs.

He chuckled at that and kissed the crown of your head and pulled you up, letting you straddle his lap.

“Thank you, baby.”

──༺♡༻──

woooo another fic finished <3 love spider-man sm, hope you liked this one!

[seijorhi]

To the Wolves

my (first) entry for the Deal With the Devil collab, because i couldn’t resist writing for Yakuza Getou <33

Getou Suguru x Female Reader

TW Extremely dubious consent, coercion, manipulation, threats, implied murder, smut, nsfw

“No. I- I won’t.”

Sitting comfortably on the old, worn couch in your cramped little apartment, Getou raises a single eyebrow, “Oh? Is that so?”

His voice is perfectly pleasant, the smile on his face a touch amused, but you’re not so naive as to believe that the question is anything but a generous offer for you to rethink your reply. A smart person would take it – since the day you’d first arrived home to find him waiting for you, Getou hadn’t so much as laid a finger on you. He had no need for guns or knives, never shouted or bullied you, his reputation more than enough to cow you into submission before he’d even opened his mouth.

Of course, once he had, the simple threats to your friends and family’s lives had made certain that you were more than amenable to his request.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he’d called it, as if there hadn’t been tears silently streaming down your face, your whole body stiff with fear. 

But that was the world he came from. Violence and ruthlessness, cruelty masquerading as kindness.

By all accounts, someone like you – a lowly admin assistant living a very boring, mundane life – should never have crossed paths with a man like Getou. The irony, of course, being that it was precisely because of your job that he’d been drawn to you in the first place. 

“I-I said no,” you stammer. “I’m not doing it.”

Getou sighs, long, pale fingers idly fixing the cuff of his left sleeve. “I had no idea the lives of your loved ones meant so little to you.”  

“Please, I-” you break off, biting your lip as your hands curl into useless fists at your side, “I can’t. Anything else, I’ll do anything, I swear it, just… please.”

Men like Getou aren’t the type to be swayed by pretty words or tearful pleas, but there’s an unmistakable glimmer of interest that flickers in his eyes at the offer. Casually, he leans forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and regarding you with a smirk. “So you’ll bring me the list of witnesses then?”

The barely audible hitch in your breath is enough to make him chuckle.

“No? How about those surveillance tapes, hm?” Smoothly, he rises to his feet and makes his way towards you. “Careful, little one, first rule of negotiation is knowing when you have something to bargain with. Don’t promise me what you can’t give.”

“Getou–”

He raises a hand and you quickly fall silent. There’s only inches between you two now, Getou’s taller, broader frame looming over yours. He could kill you like this, you realise with panic – reach out and wrap his hands around your throat and snap your pretty little neck before you could so much as scream. The tailored line of his jacket hides the gun he has holstered at his side, but Getou knows you're aware of its presence, have been since the very first time he’d broken into your home and threatened you. 

It’d take him only moments to draw the sidearm, even less for him to pull the trigger.

The walls of your apartment are thin, would your neighbours come if they heard gunfire? Would you, for that matter, if your roles were reversed?

Yet Getou makes no move for his gun, instead reaching for your chin, tilting it up with two curled fingers until you meet his gaze, “You understand, don’t you, that I make one phone call and that charming sister of yours and her fiance meet a very tragic, very untimely end?”

He pauses, waiting until you jerk a quick nod of assent before continuing. “You love them. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with prioritising the ones you love over everybody else.” His voice is gentle, but the words make you shake, dread rising from the pit of your stomach as the pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. 

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something to that, but even as you try, you can’t summon the words. The by now familiar scent of his cologne tickles your nose and invades your throat, the warmth of his touch burning through your veins. Your own heart hammers like a drumbeat in your chest, every cell in your body screaming danger, but you don’t run, you don’t even flinch.

Getou smiles kindly, and perhaps if you hadn’t seen first hand the aftermath of his handiwork you might be tempted to believe it. His spare hand reaches into his jacket, but instead of the gun you’re expecting, he pulls out his phone, the screen flickering to life with a swipe of his finger. “So tell me, before I make a call you and I both know you don’t want me to make, why you’ve suddenly decided that their lives aren’t worth your compliance?”

Nanami. Your boss’s face flashes to your mind, the odd, fleeting glances he’d sent your way over the past few weeks when he’d thought you weren’t paying attention. Your stomach erupts with butterflies, your cheeks unwittingly warming, but you just shake your head, “If I give you those files, you’ll kill them. You’ll hurt them.”

“Maybe,” he hums, “maybe not. It’s no less than those monkeys deserve, don’t you think?” He spits the word like it’s venom, the twitch in his jaw the only chink in his otherwise effortless composure. “You’re protecting them, even now.”

You make no attempt to defend yourself, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting him off, but Getou seems entirely unfazed, laughing coldly at your stricken expression.

“Your boss, the one with the perpetual stick up his ass; Nanami,” potent disdain drips from his tone at the name, “Always so morally righteous, sitting up on his high horse. You think he cares for you, that he’ll protect you when all of this comes out? And it will come out eventually,” he says, his smirk widening at the sudden pallor in your face. “At some point there’ll be one too many unfortunate coincidences, and the higher ups will realise that they have a mole in their ranks. Fingers will be pointed of course, but eventually even those idiots will figure it out.”

A knot tightens inside of your chest at his words, constricting until it feels like you can’t breathe. You’re shaking your head, eyes filling with tears, “N-no–”

“Oh, little one,” Getou murmurs, dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your distress. “Surely you realised that they have security cameras covering every inch of your floor? There was no reason to look before, but once they do…” he trails off, letting go of your chin in favour of brushing the back of his knuckles along your cheek. “They’ll throw you to the wolves.”

His voice is soft and cruel, belied by the gentleness of his touch, but it does nothing to quell the rising sense of dread inside of you. You want to believe it’s a lie, another threat meant to scare you into submission, but some deeper part of you recognises the truth in his words. 

Nanami, who’d told you once that there was innocence and there was guilt and very little in between. Nanami, whose office you’d bugged, whose trial only weeks ago you’d all but derailed with a few misplaced documents. You think back to the late nights shared in his office, bowls of ramen and case files scattered across the desk between you. You think of the rare smiles, his oddly dry sense of humour, the pleasant fluttering in your heart–

“You’ll rot in prison long before I do, and there is not a soul among that insipid bunch that would lift a finger to stop that from happening to you.” 

A soft, strangled noise leaves your lips as you fight not to sob, and Getou sighs, the corners of his lips twitching downwards in contrived sympathy. “Say the word and I’ll walk away tonight. I’ll still have to kill your sister – I am a man of my word, you understand – but I promise it’ll be the last you see of me.”

He slides his phone back into the breast pocket of his jacket, taking your face in both of his hands as tears spill down long lashes. “And when they come for you, you can tell them I threatened you, show them what little proof you have – if you have any at all. Maybe it’ll even make a difference,” he says. “But I doubt it.”

Every word is like a knife, slicing away at the raw, bleeding, vulnerable parts of you.

“Please…” It’s weak and desperate, your voice cracked and broken. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore; your sister’s life, for Getou’s mercy, or maybe just for him to stop saying such awful things. He must take pity on you though, because he sighs once more, his right thumb sweeping across your wet cheek to brush away silvery tear tracks. 

“I’m not a complete monster, you know. I protect what’s mine.”

And in one breath, everything screeches to a standstill and a trickle of very real fear creeps down your spine. There’s no mistaking his implication, not when he’s holding your face like that, his eyes dark and simmering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“W-what?”

Getou closes the gap between you two, a startled noise leaving your lips as his hips press flush up against you. “Don’t play stupid, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a warning, “It doesn’t suit you.”

One hand slips to your neck, the other curling almost possessively around your waist. There’s no room for you to move, to back away or free yourself. For a moment, neither of you speak, the heavy silence deafening between you.

Does he notice the way your pulse races under his fingertips as they circle your throat, how you’re shaking like a leaf beneath him? Does he want you afraid? A scared little bunny rabbit cowering from the gaping maw of the big, bad wolf? 

Judging from the bulge of his semi-hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of your belly, he’s not entirely unaffected, and for the first time it’s not Getou’s gun or his threats that you’re most afraid of. 

It’s the selfish, twisted want that glitters and glints in those pitiless depths. You’ve never felt so entirely at somebody else’s mercy as you do with Getou now, staring you down like he wants to lay you bare, claim you again and again for all the world to see. And you don’t understand. There’s a thousand and one questions running through your mind, your insides twisted up into knots. 

You know what it is he’s asking of you – though asking feels like a generous word when he can so easily just take – but none of this makes sense, not when he was threatening your family’s lives only minutes ago. 

As if he can sense the turmoil and confusion raging through you, he leans down, his lips ghosting over the outer shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I am a man of my word. 

His earlier statement rings through your head as you search his face for any sign of deception – you find none. But walking away means your sister dies. It means you’re left on your own to fend off the wolves when they find out what you’ve done.

Nanami might believe you. He might even defend you, but you’ve worked in the Prosecutor’s office long enough to know that duress isn’t the bulletproof defence people think it is, and for tangling with the likes of him…

You were screwed the moment he showed up in your living room, this- this is just the coup de grâce. The final damnation.

“Why me?” 

Getou doesn’t answer, but when he draws you into a kiss, his lips moving torturously slow against yours, there’s an edge of… something there, lying hidden just beneath the surface. And it terrifies you, more than his words and his promises ever could.

But when your back’s to the wall, what choice do you really have?

It feels like defeat when he takes you by the hand and leads you into your bedroom, ignoring the uncertain glance you cast over your shoulder towards the living room. You don’t want any of this, but you can pretend that it’s just… business if he fucks you out there.

Not in the bed you sleep in.

It’d be easier, you think, if it was cold and impersonal. If you cried and it stung and the only sounds in the room were flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing and an occasional rough grunt.

There’s nothing impersonal about the way he watches you strip out of your clothes at his command. His own join yours on the floor without much ceremony – his gun pointedly set just within reach atop your nightstand.

The first time you’d laid eyes on Getou Suguru, it was two months into your new job; a photograph pinned to a thick, heavy file Nanami had dropped on your desk. A surveillance picture, you’d gathered, snapped as the man was exiting some neon lit club downtown. And you remembered the smug smirk he’d had, staring directly down the lens of the camera like it was a challenge, but that wasn’t what had struck you most.

It was the flutter of interest that’d shot through your veins the moment before common sense kicked in. Tall and fit, with long, dark hair swept up in the wind, a sharp jaw and a handsome face, you remember thinking he was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Now, standing naked before you, bright, colourful tattoos inked across his torso, accentuating the muscles that rise and fall with every measured breath, you can’t bear to look. It’s easier just to stare at the wooden floorboards, the corner of the shagged rug you’d bought at a thrift store when you first moved in. Easier to pretend Getou isn’t pulling you closer once more, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along your neck, murmuring words that are lost to you entirely as his hands wander. You can feel it now, the heat of his body as he cages you in, his cock, thick and heavy and flushed nudging insistently up against your stomach.

You expect him to shove you to your knees, to force his cock down your throat in some archaic show of dominance before he claims your cunt, but he doesn’t. 

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers into your ear, teeth catching lightly on the sensitive lobe as you shiver. “Like you do when I’m not here, those pretty legs spread, fucking yourself on your fingers…”

The comment feels too familiar to be entirely offhanded, striking a chord of panic somewhere deep inside of you–

But it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter now.

You allow him to kiss you again before climbing onto the mattress. Like a good girl, you fall back onto the pillows, let your legs ease apart, wrapping your lips around two fingers and sucking for a brief moment before gliding your hand down between your thighs. 

His breath hitches, a soft curse sounding when saliva slicked digits spread your folds, the tip of your middle finger brushing lightly against your clit as you stroke your pussy. Your nipples harden and peak under the cool night air and you use your free hand to palm at your breast, pinching and teasing at the sensitive bud while one finger slips into the warmth of your cunt. 

The mattress dips, Getou climbing onto the bed, settling himself back on his knees, your spread legs either side of him.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. 

Your heart stutters, movements jerking as you brace for him to interfere, to touch you, but aside from nudging your thighs further apart to get a better view of your glistening cunt, he seems content simply to sit back and watch, his own hand lazily stroking at his cock.

Trying in vain to block him out, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the way your fingers feel between your legs, the pleasure–

 (Not the shame, don’t think about that, don’t think about Getou watching you debase yourself for his enjoyment)

–that pools in your core as you rub the shining pearl of your clit. It’s a familiar dance, a routine you’d normally help along with a glass of wine and a few faithful toys, but you don’t exactly have that luxury here.

And even with the rigid tension in your shoulders, the unwanted presence of a man you’re terrified of impossible to ignore, you can’t help the quiet moan that slips past your lips, the way your hips stutter, grinding against the heel of your palm as your fingers hit that sweet, delightful spot inside of you. 

Getou tenses at the sound, the last, fragile thread of his composure snapping–

He strikes fast. One moment you’re biting down on your bottom lip, your index and middle fingers knuckle deep in your dripping pussy, the next he’s braced atop you, one hand locked around your wrist, the other propping himself up. And as your eyes fly open with a startled cry, his lips crash against your once more – desperate and ravenous, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to taste you.

And you don’t fight it when he pulls your hand from your pussy and drags it to his crotch, his fingers entwining with yours as he wraps them around his heavy, throbbing cock and moans. It’s humiliating, the way he thrusts into your hand, tightening his grip so you’re forced to feel every shivery twitch of his dick while he sucks eagerly on your tongue.

This is the choice you’d made, the deal you struck. It’s too late to back out now, and even if you tried to… 

“I want you,” he pants, his lips glistening with saliva, an almost manic look in those dark, pretty eyes, “to ride me.”

… you’re not so sure Getou would let you.

So you allow yourself to be manhandled, lifted and situated across his lap like a doll. Hands braced on his tattooed chest, you lift your hips just enough for him to guide his cock to your slick entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length.

Every inch hurts. 

It doesn’t make it any less painful, the way Getou soothes you, his thumbs stroking gently at your waist as you whine and mewl, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he stuffs you full.

“Fuck– good girl, taking me so well,” he purrs.

You’re not sure if it’s shame, pleasure, or some sense of twisted pride at the praise that has your pussy clenching, fire racing through your veins when Getou experimentally rocks his hips upwards. And if your cheeks weren’t already burning, the lewd moan that escapes you when the head of his cock hits your g-spot would certainly do the trick. 

Ever observant, he wastes no time capitalising on your slip, lifting you up just to drive you back down onto his length at the perfect angle. You shudder around him, keening out a cry that has him groaning in pleasure.

There’s no illusion of control here between you two.

You might be the one on top, but Getou’s grip’s too tight, guiding every roll of your hips against his, his own rising in time to fuck his cock deeper into your warm, velvety cunt. And somewhere distantly you recognise that this could be a thousand times worse. How easily he could change the narrative in a heartbeat, flip you over, force your face into the pillows and fuck you like a dog until you’re gasping for air. He could use you, hurt you, probably kill you without ever needing to touch the gun he’d left on your nightstand – and you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping him.

But he doesn’t. Lying back against your pillows, dark hair falling from his half up-do, cheeks flushed from exertion, Getou’s attention is wholly fixed on you - on your face, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he hits somewhere deep inside of you that has you seeing stars, on your tits, the way they bounce every time you sink back down onto his cock.

His eyes are hooded, dark and intense, searching for every hint of pleasure he’s drawn from you. You gasp his name, fingers digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering so deliciously around him – and he loses that last little bit of his self control. 

He jerks upright, one arm wrapping around your waist to anchor you to him as he braces himself with the other, and before you can so much as gasp his mouth is at your tits, hot tongue laving at soft, supple skin there.

“Suguru,” he growls, hips snapping feverishly against yours. 

“Suguru,” you parrot, head lolling back as heat coils tighter in your core. 

You’ll worry about the consequences later, when he pulls you boneless and sated into his arms and you feel his heart thumping at your back as he kisses you and tells you to sleep. When tomorrow you arrive at work and Nanami stares a beat too long as the love bites scattered across your throat, no doubt wondering why you won’t so much as look at him.

For now, you settle for pulling him closer, gasping as you chase that quaking, blissful end.

[loqov]

Personal Angel

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Summary: When you feel like you’re drowning in work, there’s always someone to pull you out and help you take a breath.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol, Slight mature themes.

Words: 11k+

A/N: Oh my! 100 followers! Thank you so much guys. It really means a lot that you like my works. I hope this one will be just as good as the other ones. Thank you once more! Have a nice day/night.

The Avengers Compound was entirely engulfed in comfortable silence while every soul living there was taken over by sleep filled with images of their hidden desires. Their minds were relaxing, displaying every one of the thoughts that were locked deep inside their imagination. Showing them people, places, and events that they were too afraid, too hurt, or not brave enough for themselves to think about during the day.

Moving through the hallways, passing multiple closed bedroom doors, the quiet snoring could be heard from behind some of them. Everything was embraced by darkness. Blind wandering around the place could be stopped by reaching the slightly ajar door that was lit by a faint light streaming below it.

The sound of clicking was bouncing off the walls and spreading all over the small space, interrupting the earlier peacefulness. Quiet sighs that cut through it from time to time, changed to irritated and tired huffs at some points. Letters were showing on the screen that was the only source of light in a completely dark room, creating full sentences that filled numerous pages by now. But there were still many more of them to fill.

Your fingers had been dancing on the keyboard for the last six or so hours, typing the reports the whole time and not taking a break, even for a second. The paperwork was all over your desk, the material the desk was made of was barely noticeable under the number of white pieces of paper. Some of it was scattered on the floor covering the gray wooden panels and the finished ones were in the black boxes near the cabinet that was secured with a code and your fingerprint. You kept there the most important documents about S.H.I.E.L.D. and their past activities, as well as the most recent ones. 

Your eyes were half-closed but entirely focused on the monitor and everything that was happening on it, darting from one side of the half-empty page to the other one, following the new text that was appearing with every one of your clicks. Blinking a couple of times to get rid of the tiredness that was consuming you more and more with every passing second, you glanced at the clock to see that it was already four in the morning. You were supposed to go to bed two hours ago. Sighing heavily, you looked at all the papers, wondering if you went back to bed now, would you finish it by the end of the week like Nick asked you to.

“Can’t I just burn that shit?” You mumbled to yourself, feeling irritated and on the verge of consciousness.

Deciding that you could go for a little longer, hoping you wouldn’t fall asleep and hit your head on the desk, you got back to typing, trying to keep your eyes open at all costs. Your hands slowed down their movements, getting a little bit numb from all the work they had gone through. You pulled them away from the keyboard and cracked your knuckles, then intertwined your hands together, stretching them in front of you, so the back of them was facing you. Then you lightly shook them and put them on the desk continuing filling out the mission reports. You sighed, closing your eyes for a second, and tilting your head from side to side. It felt heavy and you had minor problems with keeping it up. But your back was the worst. It was one big wall of pain. You would definitely feel that for the next couple of days.

“Why did I even agree to do it?” You muttered under your breath, starting questioning your life decisions.

Finishing the last report for that night, you raised your hands above your head and stretched to the side, before leaning back in the chair. You closed your eyes and brought your hands to your face to rub them a little then you put them on the armrests, glancing at the clock again. 4:37 AM was displayed on it. 

You saved your work and slowly stood up while closing your laptop, and moving it to the middle of the desk. You started making your way out of the office, grabbing your phone and putting it in your sweatpants’ pocket. Walking out, you closed the door quietly, moving through the hallways, yawning and tiredly rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. 

When you reached your door, you put your hand on the doorknob, opening it while trying your best not to make any sound. You stepped into the room and quietly moved towards the bed, smiling subconsciously at the sight you were met with. A small, red-headed figure was laying on her side, facing the empty spot next to her, and sleeping peacefully. 

You liked seeing her like this. Unguarded and calm. She looked content and like her real self. Every day when you two left your room she always put up that stone-cold mask for others. She still acted like herself in some parts, but most of the time she acted like someone who people assumed she is.

You wanted her to know that she was safe with the rest of the team just like she was safe with you. And you told her that multiple times, but every time she said that nobody could make her feel safe and at ease like you. After she told you that you understood her actions. She wanted to have just one person who could know all her secrets, knowing that she wouldn’t be judged. She didn’t need anyone else.

And you were just that. Her person. You never judged her, you provided her comfort and proved that she had a place in the world. For her, this place was in your arms. You provided her happiness and proved that love wasn’t a weakness and that she could love and be loved. She gave you her heart, completely trusting you with it, and you did the same, knowing she would never break it.

She always was here. And this always made you feel better. Knowing that you always had her to come back to, whether it was from a mission, or just from your office after hours of working. It didn’t matter. What always mattered was that she was always waiting for you. 

You took off your t-shirt, tossing it on the armchair, before taking out your phone from your pocket and putting it on the nightstand. You bent down and put your hands on the bed, then carefully moved to lay down beside her, making sure you wouldn’t wake her up. When your body hit the mattress, the green-eyed beauty instantly shifted, pressing herself to you. Her head fell on your chest, making some of her hair tickle your cheek while she snaked her hand on your stomach. She threw her leg on yours, tangle them together while pushing her body as close as she could to you. She left no space between you two, not a bit. 

You put your arms around her, hugging her tightly. You were about to close your eyes when her head turned a little and you felt a small kiss on your shoulder before her head got back to its previous position.

“I love you.” You heard her mumble quietly, making you smile. 

You looked down at her and kissed the top of her head. “I love you too. Goodnight, sunshine.” You whispered back, closing your eyes. 

Your only response was a soft hum and the feeling of her squeezing you tighter. This was your favorite place. With your favorite person in your arms. Smiling with those thoughts on your mind, you let yourself drift off to peaceful slumber.

┉

You woke up to the sunlight slipping through the curtains and falling on your face, making you squeeze your eyes tightly and put your hand over them. You rubbed them a little, before retracing your hand and putting it beside you. Feeling a light weight on your chest you looked down. Messy red hair that was sprawled everywhere filled your view, and a small smile made its way on your lips. Then you turned your head to look at the clock and saw that it was already 8:24 AM. You had a busy schedule, so if you didn’t want to miss anything and do some paperwork today, you had to get up.

Trying to get out of the red-head’s tight grip, you started sitting up slowly just for her to tighten her hold on you and put more of her weight on your body, making you fall back on the mattress.

You sighed softly and looked down at her again. “Love, I have to get up.” You whispered to her, raising your hand to her hair and started stroking it.

She squeezed your body in protest and got comfortable on you again, making sure to put just enough weight to make it hard for you in case you wanted to get out of the bed. “No, you don’t.” She mumbled, her lips lightly brushing your skin.

Still stroking her hair, sliding your hand to her arm and back up, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head, leaving your mouth there. “Baby, I really have to get up. I need to do some paperwork.” You murmured against her hair and let your head fall on the pillow.

“You came back late, so you have to get some more sleep. Be quiet.” She replied in a barely audible whisper.

You shook your head a little, thinking of something that would make her let you go. “But I ca-” You started just to get cut off by your girlfriend.

“Shhh, just go to sleep.” You heard her saying quietly while shifting on your chest a little.

You chuckled lightly. “But I really need to get up.” You replied with a smile but knowing that probably you would lose this battle in the end.

She lifted her head slowly, putting her chin on you, and looked at you with half-closed and sleepy eyes. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” She asked.

You chuckled again. “No.” 

She hummed, pursing her lips pretending to think about it. “Well, then you don’t need to or have to get up. Goodnight.” She said and situated her head in the crook of your neck, brushing it a little with her nose.

You knew it was probably pointless at that moment, cause when Nat decided something, there was hardly any possibility that she would change her mind, but you tried again. “What if I ma-hmgph”

Her hand landed on your mouth, covering it lightly and making your words muffle. “Shhhh.” She whispered with her eyes closed.

An idea popped into your mind. You started licking her hand, making her pull it away immediately. “Ew, Y/n, it’s disgusting.” She said still sleepily, lifting her upper body slightly, leaning on her arm, and wiping her hand on your stomach.

You let a small smirk form on your lips. “You don’t say that when I lick something else.” You replied watching her face.

She turned her head to you and lifted an eyebrow. “Usually, when you lick something else, it gives me something else as well, not a hand covered in your saliva.” She informed you, then lifted her hand and started examining it.

You frowned a little. “Usually?” You asked confused and a bit upset.

She looked back at you and smirked a little, still in a sleepy daze. “Well, what can I say. You’re not always that amazing.” She said and shrugged nonchalantly. 

You opened your mouth a little in a slight shock. You kinda felt disappointed now. You thought you were always giving her what she wanted. “You’re just joking, right?” You asked with a bit of seriousness in your tone.

She shrugged again. “I’m not saying it’s bad or something. You just don’t always play your best game.” She decided to tease you further, seeing all those emotions appear on your face. It was entertaining for her.

For you, not so much. You started thinking that you really didn’t please your girlfriend.  Her laughter shook you out of your thoughts and you looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. “You should’ve seen your face. It was hilarious.” She uttered between her laughs. 

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You think it’s funny?” You didn’t find it funny at all.

She nodded, licking her lips. “Very funny.” She said. “You looked like you thought that you actually were doing something wrong.” She added, chuckling and looking at you.

You lifted your eyebrow at her. “Maybe because I thought about that.” It made her only laugh more. “It’s not funny, stop laughing.” You told her, trying to be serious, but a small smile betrayed you.

She calmed down a little and leaned slightly. “Did my baby think I wasn’t satisfied?” She asked in a baby voice, making a small pout. “Don’t worry. I’m more than satisfied.” She added with a smirk, throwing you a wink. 

You huffed playfully and looked away. “Yeah yeah, I’m not gonna listen any longer. I’m getting up.” When you made your first move in an attempt to lift yourself from the bed, she sat on your stomach, putting her hands on your shoulders and pushing you back down.

“Okay okay.” She said giggling. You gave her a look, and instead of stopping, she just giggled more. You tried to move again and failed. “Fine.” She said calming down and moving her hands down a little. “I have a deal for you.” She said, shifting on your stomach.

You raised your eyebrow, lying down and putting your hands on her thighs. “A deal?” She nodded with a smile, licking her lips a little. “What kind of deal?” 

She tilted her head slightly to the side and started trailing her fingers on your collarbone. “I will not joke about your skills in the bedroom like that ever again.” She started, moving her fingers up your neck and to your jaw, tracing it. “If you will stay in bed at least for an hour.” 

You hummed in thought. “An hour?” She nodded. You puckered your lips looking to the side, then back at her. “You’re gonna wake me up?” 

She grabbed your phone from your nightstand. “Not me.” She said doing something on your phone, before turning it to you to let you see the alarm set for 10 AM. “Your alarm will.” She added, turning the phone back to her and looking at the screen doing something again, before leaning to the side and putting your phone back down. “Deal?” She asked when she was in her previous position, extending her hand.

You took one of your hands from her thigh and shook hers. “Deal.” 

She smiled. “Great.” She leaned down and kissed you, before moving off of you and getting in the same position she was in when you woke up, but with her head on your shoulder. “Now, shut up and go to sleep.” She said, settling her face in the crook of your neck, sighing softly, satisfied with her accomplishment.

You chuckled at that and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her head, before closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off to dreamland for a second time today.

┉

Waking up again and not feeling Natasha’s body on you, you stretched your hand to the other side of the bed to feel it was empty. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and started moving your hand in an attempt to find your girlfriend. 

You opened your eyes while turning your head to the side to be met with an empty spot beside you. Slightly lifting your head, you looked around the room with squinted eyes. But when they landed on the clock, they widened so much that they could fall out. It was 12 fucking AM. 

“What the fuck.” You muttered under your breath and quickly sit up on the edge of your bed, grabbing your phone. You opened the app and saw that the alarm Natasha set for 10 AM was turned off. “How did that happen?” 

You quickly got up and dressed, before almost running out of your room and to the kitchen for a quick snack. You checked your phone again and saw that you got a message from Steve.

Steve: Okay, thanks for letting me know.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and were about to open the message when you heard the music, making you put your phone in the pocket. You walked to the kitchen and spotted Natasha. 

You were standing in one place, looking at her. She was humming to the song you heard on the radio on your first date and swaying her body a little while making some food. You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning your body against the doorframe, watching the show unfold in front of you.

When it got to her favorite part, she lifted the spatula to her mouth singing her heart out. Her head was thrown back and eyes tightly closed while she was shaking her head and fully dancing by now, spinning around at some points, giving her everything to the song.

You cleared your throat to make your presence known, making her jump a little, and her head whipped in your direction with wide eyes. Her hand flew to her chest that was raising heavily.

“You jerk, you scared the shit out of me.” She said calming down her breathing. But then her face changed its expression like she just realized something. Clearing her throat a little and getting back to cooking like nothing happened, she pursed her lips in thought. “How long have you been standing there?” She finally asked not looking up.

You smiled, sensing an opportunity to get her back for what she said earlier today. Even though you loved her seeing this carefree, you knew she always got defensive about things like that. Mainly because she was afraid it would slip out in front of the others. Still, she was so adorable. “Oh, you mean how much of your performance have I seen?” 

You saw her nose scrunch up a little. She always did that when she felt a little uncomfortable in a situation. “Performance? I didn’t see any performance here.” She replied, still very interested in the pans and food in front of her.

You hummed at that. “Yeah, you didn’t see, but you certainly made one.” She poked her tongue to her cheek and moved it to her teeth, running it over them. You waited and waited, for that one sound. 

She groaned loudly, scrunching up her face, making you smile even more. Turning her head to you she had a serious look on it. “Not a word.” She said in a warning tone, letting you know that if you told anybody, you would be dead.

You chuckled unfolding your arms and started walking up to her. Her focus got back to the food while you wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “Don’t worry about that. And I think you always look adorable when you do that.” You told her softly. 

Her head shot up to meet your gaze. “I’m not adorable.” She grumbled looking you dead in the eyes.

You lifted your eyebrow at that and kissed the tip of her nose, causing her to scrunch it up and that made you smile again. “See, adorable and gorgeous. Nobody can compare.” She rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but she couldn’t hide the small smile that crept on her lips.

“Yeah yeah, Romeo. Sit down, food will be ready in a minute.” 

You shook your head slowly. “I can’t. I need to go and do some paperwork. I have just, like, maybe thirty minutes for that now.” 

She looked up at you. “No, you don’t. You need to get your ass on that stool right now and eat.” She said softly, but seriously.

You nodded, seeing the look in her eyes, choosing not to die today. You unwrapped your arms, kissing her forehead, before moving away, getting two glasses and juice, and sitting on a stool. Smiling, she got back to the cooking while you grabbed your phone, and when you saw the hour, you remembered something.

“By the way.” You started and she looked at you. “I remember that we made a deal, and I was supposed to sleep for an hour, not three hours.”

She smirked at that and tilted her head, still looking at you while making sure not to burn the food. “And I remember that I said at least an hour.” She replied confidently.

“What about the part where you were supposed to wake me up then?” You asked her, straightening up your posture and folding your hands on the top of the countertop.

Her smirk didn’t fade away, not for a second. It only widened. “It was your alarm’s job, wasn’t it?” She asked sweetly.

“So why didn’t it ring?” You interrogated further, but she already had all the answers the moment she offered the deal to you.

She sighed dramatically, turning her head to the food. “Oh, well, maybe it turned off on its own, you know how these things work.” She said. “Technology.” She added with a dramatic sigh and looked back at you with an innocent smile.

Squinting your eyes at her, you tilted your head to the side, thinking about how she showed you the alarm setting, but then she did something on your phone again. “You sneaky little-” 

“What?” She cut you off with a raised eyebrow as if to challenge you to end that sentence.

You were looking at her for a little longer, not backing away. At that point, if someone walked in, they would probably say you were in an intense staring contest. Partially, they would be right.

You sighed softly, shaking your head and let a small smile show on your face. “Angel. You are my sneaky little Angel.”

She smiled cockily at you, knowing she won again, but she was pleased with your answer as well. She turned off the stove and put eggs, bacon, and waffles on two plates, giving you one of them while she sat on the other side of the countertop, facing you, with her own plate.

You two started eating and you had to admit it was really good. “I love your waffles.” You told her, making her smile for like a hundredth time today.

“Only my waffles?” She asked, cocking her eyebrow at you while biting her bacon.

You hummed, stuffing your face with more food and swallowing it. “Bacon is good too. But not that amazing.” You replied, making her narrow her eyes at you.

“I will never make you food again.” She said, stopping eating and dramatically dropping a fork on her plate.

You laughed at her little antics, getting the sip of the juice. “You know I love you.”

“Me or my waffles?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.

You pursed your lips, looking at the countertop, before letting your gaze land on her. “Couldn’t it be both?”

She slightly opened her mouth and raised her eyebrow even more. “You would trade me for food, wouldn’t you?” She asked, getting back to eating.

You shook your head vigorously. “No. Never. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

She hummed. “Mhm. You better eat that, you have a meeting with Fury.”

You pointed a finger at her. “Right. I almost forgot.” You replied, stuffing your mouth with everything.

You grabbed your phone to see how much time you actually had before you had to head to Nick’s office. You unlocked it and saw the message from Steve, making you smirk.

You cleared your throat a little, still looking at your phone. “Huh, weird.” You said out loud, but pretending like you said it to yourself. “Steve texted me and thanked me for something.” This time directed to her as well.

You wanted to see her reaction. And her lack of response was enough to tell you that she had something to do with it. “Do you, by any chance, know what it could be about?” You asked, looking up from the screen and at her. 

She glanced at you, shrugging and putting more food in her mouth. You knew she did that to buy herself more time to think about what to say. And when she saw you patiently waiting for her, she knew you knew. 

She licked her lips and let her eyes meet yours. “I may have~” She trailed off for a moment. “Sent him a little message from your phone.” You nodded, not breaking the eye contact. You knew there was more to that. She groaned. “Okay. I told him to reschedule your meeting with him today. You’re constantly working and I want you to relax for a little.”

You stood up, smiling and grabbing both of your empty plates, before putting them in the sink and walking up to her. Your arms wrapped around her from behind and your lips found her cheek. “You are the best. I love you.”

She turned her head to kiss you on the lips and started grinning. “I love you too.”

You gave her one more kiss before looking at your watch. “Okay. I need to head out. I’ll see you later.” You told her and kissed her head while she uttered small 'okay', and you started walking out of the kitchen.

You were in the elevator and the doors almost closed. “Come back to me soon.” You heard her shouting, making you laugh lightly at her cuteness.

“Sam, I need you to send a drone to my location.” You said to your comms with your back pressed to the wall while you were peeking around the corner and observing the hallway.

You waited for a second, before getting a reply. “You got it.” You checked your guns while waiting for more information. “The hallway is empty and the room you need to get to is the first door on your right.”

You quickly ran your eyes across the hallway, before moving along it and to the place where the bomb plans were supposed to be. You started picking on the lock. “I’m going in. If you see something suspicious inform me, okay?” 

“You know it Y/n/n.” You heard Sam say while you opened the door, stepped in, and headed to the computer.

“Bucky, how is it going on your side? Any problems?” You asked, hacking into secured files and started looking for the ones you needed.

The rustling sound came through the comms. “I’m outside and everything’s looking fine for now. But I’ll keep a close eye.” Bucky replied.

You clicked the folder with 'Project HX27' and multiple files came to your view. “Guys, there are too many files. We will have to look through them at the safe house.” You informed your friends and started downloading.

“Everything near our location is clear, so you have plenty of time for that.” You heard Sam’s voice. 

“Okay good, thanks, Sam.”

“No problem.” Came response. “So, how was the meeting with Fury the other day?” He asked and you could practically hear the teasing smile.

You groaned at that, making him and Bucky laugh. “I take it as it wasn’t relaxing gossiping over a cup of tea then?” Bucky chimed in and you chuckled at that.

“No, unfortunately, it wasn’t. He asked me if I could help him with more paperwork, cause Maria wasn’t well enough yet.” You told the two and watched how half of the files had already been downloaded.

“And knowing you, you agreed.” Sam said. “You’re gonna die with paperwork all over you dude.”

“What he said.” Bucky added, making you smile. “You’re literally gonna drown in it.”

“Yeah, you know, I can’t exactly say no.” You told them, looking around the room. 

“And why is that? You always do what you want. What happened to you?” Bucky asked you. “What did you do to my bestie?” He added with a serious tone, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, it’s not normal. You don’t act like that. Should we be worried?” Sam butted in and you shook your head, smiling.

“No, don’t worry.” You told him. “But he’s practically my girlfriend's father and I’d rather not get on his bad side.” 

“Oooooh. You’re looking for his approval. I see you, I see you.” Sam said and laughter came out of you and Bucky. “But me and Bucky better be the first ones who know when you propose.” 

“I agree with that. And I better be your best man.” Bucky told you.

You heard scoff. “You can look for some other thing to do Barnes. I get that role.” Sam informed your other friend.

“I think you hit your head, Wilson. Everybody knows I’m gonna be Y/n’s best man at their wedding.” Bucky argued back.

You chuckled again. “Guys, me and Nat have been together for like one year and a half. I’m not going to propose yet.”

“Yet.” Sam screamed startling you. “You heard that Buck. There’s going to be a fucking proposal in the, hopefully, near future.” You chuckled at the change in their behavior. It was amazing how any of you three could argue with the other, and the next second act like nothing happened.

“You’re gonna have the best party ever Y/n/n. Trust me.” Your eyes widened at that. 

“I’m not sure if I can trust you two with that thing.” You told them and waited for the last 2% to download.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” Said Bucky kinda offended. 

“You don’t think we would prepare an amazing last party for you as a not-trapped-in-a-marriage-yet person?” He asked you with disbelief in his voice. “Now you’re on. You will have the best party ever L/n.”

You laughed again, but you were slightly terrified. “We will talk about that when the time comes. I got what we need, and I’m heading out. Meet you outside in 5.” 

┉

You and Sam plopped down on the couch in a living room while Bucky emerged from the kitchen and hand you two a beer. “Aah, finally. Relax.” Said Sam leaning his back on the couch and you leaned your head on top of it.

Bucky took a seat in an armchair near where you were sitting. “Yeah, everything’s been hectic lately.” Bucky said. “I honestly don’t know how you manage to go on missions, train, go on meetings, help Fury, help Tony in the lab, and make time for Natasha.” He added, taking a sip from his bottle.

You tsked. “Well, I haven’t kinda had that much time for her for the last couple of days.” You admitted. “But she’s been messing with my schedule to spend some time together.” You smiled thinking about your red-headed girlfriend.

“Man, I can’t believe you have it so bad for her.” Sam said grinning widely at you. “She’s not even here, we barely mentioned her and you are smiling like an idiot.” Shaking his head, he took a sip of his beer. Then his face became soft and a small smile was planted on it. “But I’m really happy for you two. You both deserve it.” You smiled at him and clinked your bottle with his.

“It’s true. You two are made for each other.” Bucky joined. 

“Thanks, guys. It really means a lot to me.” You told them honestly.

They both smiled at you before Sam’s eyes went a little wider. “We have a free night, we should make a party for us here.” He said, your and Bucky’s eyes met in amusement. “Get loooooose a little.” You looked back at Sam to see him swaying his body on the couch with his arms above his head.

You burst out in laughter. “I agree with birdbrain. We should have fun and relax.” You said, drinking your beer. 

“I’m gonna get more alcohol.” Bucky said, standing up.

You turned to Sam. “I know where Tony storages vodka in safe houses.” A smirk on your face made Sam smirk as well. 

He nodded clapping his hands on his legs. “Let’s go get it.” Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but you wanted to relax a little. You could regret your actions later.

┉

“Samuel.” You exclaimed loudly standing up from the couch and heading to where your friend was sitting on the floor, trying to mix different alcohols to make a 'bomb drink'. “You got that?” Your words were a little slurred.

Sam poked his tongue in the corner of his mouth, his eyes narrowed while he was pouring another type of alcohol into a glass already filled with multiple different ones. The other two drinks were already finished. “Almost.” His focus was entirely on the task at hand. You started observing the magic happening in front of you like you were hypnotized.

“I want that too.” You heard Bucky’s voice and looked up at him. He was sitting upside down in his armchair with raised eyebrows and pointing at a special drink of Sam’s.

“We all are gonna drink this. I’m gonna make more, don’t worry.” Sam said, calming you and Bucky. “Done.” He shouted and quickly stood up, stumbling back a little, but you supported him.

Buck rolled down from the armchair and scrambled to his feet before he came up to you two. All of you eyed the glass filled with colorful alcoholic drinks, licking your lips. “Ready?” Sam asked. You and Bucky nodded vigorously. Each of you took a drink, clinked glasses, and downed in one go.

Let’s just say, mixing a lot of types of alcohol could be a good idea or a bad one. Sam’s drink was really fucking strong and messed with your heads like a manipulative bitch. But you had fun, and it was the only thing that mattered.

“Touching meee, touching youuuu.” All of you were shouting Sam from the floor, and Bucky and you looking at each other while he was standing on his armchair and you on the sofa. 

“Sweet Caroline! FUCK FUCK FUCK.” You three screamed before Buck stumbled a little and you leaned forward to catch him. 

The song was playing in the background coming to an end while you tried to stabilize Bucky’s stance and yours as well. You were about to sit down when you heard the next song.

You looked up at Bucky with wide eyes and mouth slightly opened, and he looked at you with the same expression.

“Get ready, dickhead. Time to test your lungs for real.” You slurred to him. 

“I’m ready, fucker.” He slurred back.

The lyrics started and you both started screaming at the top of your lungs. Glasses with Sam’s 'bomb drink' in your hands while you were dancing in place in your respective spots. 

You downed your drink, still keeping the glass in your hand. “I DON’T CARE, I LOVE IT!” Sam started laughing on the floor watching you two and singing quietly. 

You were waving your hands in the air in all directions. “I threw your shit into the bag and pushed it down the stairs.” You were singing and the glass slipped from your hand and shattered on the floor. 

“Ooh shit.” Sam’s said laughing with his head raised a little, looking at the mess you made.

You looked at the same spot with a disappointed face. “I’m gonna clean it up, guys.” You told them, taking a step on the couch. You wobbled on your legs and tripped on the space between cushions, causing you to stumble and fall on the floor on your back.

The silence filled the room. You could hear a pin drop, it was like nobody was even here. Then all of you burst out in laughter, but the little pain you were in made you groan. “Shiiit.” You said chuckling.

“That was beautiful.” Sam exclaimed between laughs. 

Bucky was almost dying, his hand on his stomach and eyes tightly closed. When he calmed down a little he met your eyes. “I really hope I will not forget that.” He exclaimed, hitting the armrest with his hand. 

You started standing up slowly, laughing with them. “I will feel this in the morning.” Yeah, you definitely would.

“More like for the next couple of days.” Sam wasn’t wrong though. It was gonna hurt like a bitch. The pain from sitting at your desk doing paperwork, missions, and training combined with this, didn’t mean anything good.

You groaned again and moved to the kitchen. “I’m gonna clean this mess. We don’t need more injuries.” 

The two only nodded with smiles, lying down, exhausted from all the shouting, dancing, and the rest of the shit you’d done that night.

You opened the door and stepped into your room while holding onto the strap of your bag that laid on your shoulder. Moving a little so you could close the door, you let a groan leave your mouth. That shit really hurt. The whole way back home you couldn’t do anything about the pain. You took some meds but they didn’t ease it too much.

“Hey.” You heard a sultry voice behind you, making you look over your shoulder to spot your favorite red-head. 

You smiled warmly at her. “Hey.” You said raspily. “How have you been without me?” You asked her fully turning around and putting the bag on the floor.

She came up to you, sneaking her hands around your neck to pull you down and kiss you. You put your hands on her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. You missed her, so much. You didn’t want to let her go. Unfortunately, you needed some stupid air, making you pull away after a minute. 

“I’m guessing you missed me.” You said quietly with a grin on your face. 

Natasha smirked biting her lip. “You don’t even know how much.” She whispered seductively before attacking your lips with hers again.

From soft and gentle it turned to passionate and rough. She tugged on the collar of your jacket, so you retracted your hands from her waist and took it off. Her hand wandered a little bit down and grabbed your t-shirt in her fist, so tight that her knuckles were white.

You put your hands back on her body and slid them down to her ass squeezing it gently, a quiet moan passed her lips at the action. Continuing your trip, you grabbed under her thighs while her hand went from your neck to your hair, pushing your face closer to hers. 

You lifted her, making her wrap her legs around your waist. Taking steps towards the bed, you deepened the kiss even more, biting her lip lightly. Her legs tighten around. A painful groan left your mouth, causing Natasha to pull away and loosen her embrace almost immediately, and look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Are you okay?” She asked in a worried tone, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded and smiled through the pain. “Yup. Everything’s fine. Now, where were we?” You replied, leaning in to kiss her, but she leaned back, avoiding your lips.

You frowned at that and looked at her with a questioning look. “Does something hurt you?” 

You smiled at her sweetly. “Yeah, the only thing that hurts me is the fact that I haven’t seen my girlfriend for four days and she doesn’t let me kiss her.” You leaned in again but pulled away with a hiss when she tightened her legs around you for a second.

She raised her eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what was that?” 

You shrugged, still holding her up in your arms. “Nothing that would be bad enough to worry about it.” 

She tilted her head to the side a little and squinted her eyes at you. “Really?” She asked with a tone that told you she completely didn’t believe what you just said.

“Yeah.” You replied, making her nod slowly and straighten up in your arms, before squeezing you with her legs one more fucking time. It really hurt like a bitch. “Okay, okay. I hurt my back.” She nodded again, this time satisfied.

She unwrapped her legs from around you and did the same with her hands, standing on the floor. A soft expression was on her face as she was looking up at you. “Can I look?” 

You didn’t know if it was a good idea. But she wouldn’t let that go. She was too stubborn. So you only nodded and turned around a little, letting her lift your t-shirt.

You saw her frown and felt her fingers gently touch your bruises. “What happened?” She asked. “I knew your back was in a poor state but it wasn’t bruised.” She looked up at you for answers, putting your t-shirt back down and crossing her arms over her chest.

You turned around to face her again and glanced at the floor clearing your throat. “I may have fallen.” You replied slowly. She lifted one of her hands and waved it signaling for you to continue. “When we were in the safe house.” She was looking at you still waiting for an explanation. “From the couch.” At this her eyebrow raised. You stayed quiet and started looking around the room. Her eyebrow raised even higher, waiting for you to finally tell her. “When I was drunk.” You ended in a quiet whisper, turning your head away from her, avoiding her eyes, and scratching your neck.

When you didn’t hear her for a long while, you turned back and met her eyes. Her both eyebrows were raised and mouth slightly opened. Her face was a perfect description of disbelief. “You what?!” She said raising her voice, making you widen your eyes and raise your hands in defense a little bit scared.

You composed yourself quickly though and cleared your throat a little. “I know. I shouldn’t have been drinking on a mission.”

“Don’t you say.” She replied sarcastically.

“But.” You started, and she looked at you expectantly. “I got drunk after we got everything we needed.”

She looked at you like you were the biggest idiot she’d ever seen. “That doesn’t make it better, Y/n.” You quickly nodded, agreeing, not wanting her to get any madder at you. “You got hurt because of that, and your back already hurt before that.” She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. 

“I’m sorry. We just wanted to loosen up a bit. Everything’s been hectic lately and there’s barely time to sit down. We had some free time and decided to relax.” You kinda felt guilty. She thought something bad happened to you while you hurt your back falling from a fucking couch because you got drunk.

“No, it’s fine. I just don’t like it that you have to run everywhere and take care of everything. It causes you pain, and now you just added to it.” She told you softly. “I’m gonna run you a bath so your muscles can relax a little.” She smiled and started turning around, but you caught her arm gently.

“You don’t have to. You’re probably tired as well. I can sleep it off.” You told her, grabbing her hand and intertwining your fingers.

She smiled again and shook her head. “Nope. I’m not taking no as an answer.” She leaned up on her tiptoes and gave you a short kiss, before moving to the bathroom.

Smiling to yourself you took off your shoes, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, and laid down with your hands above your head, closing your eyes. The mattress was so soft that you could melt and fall asleep right there and then.

After some time you heard footsteps. You opened one eye to see Nat coming your way. You opened the other eye when she stood in front of you. “Hello.” You told her, grinning.

She laughed lightly, sitting on her knees, straddling you. She leaned forward, sliding her hands up the bed and reaching for yours. Now you were face to face, both smiling. “What can I do for a gorgeous lady like you ma’am?.” You asked quietly against her lips, earning a giggle from her.

She licked her lips, intertwining your fingers and bringing your joined hands down while she sat on your stomach. “Well, you are here and it just so happens that I have a bath ready. I could use some company.” She almost whispered, playing with your fingers.

You hummed looking deep into her mesmerizing green eyes. “Tempting offer.” You replied in the same tone. She hummed at that and nodded slowly. “I just may take it.” 

Smiling, she leaned in a little closer, so her nose was brushing against yours. “I could use a kiss as well.” You returned the smile and leaned up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. She pulled away slowly and started standing up, pulling you up by your still joined hands.

“Come on you.” She said, turning around and dragging you with her.

When you got to the bathroom, you both started taking off your clothes. You shamelessly roamed your eyes all over her body. And she knew that. She smirked and started putting up a little show for you, making you internally groan.

You got in the bathtub and leaned back before getting comfortable. Natasha followed as you put your arms on the top of the edges and straddled you.

Moving her hands to your head, she started running them through your hair, causing your head to lull back. Your eyes closed as a soft sigh left your mouth. “I love you.” Her sweet voice reached your ears before you felt her breathing against your lips. 

Placing a soft kiss on them, she moved her fingers to the back of your neck and kept gently playing with your hair, putting you further into a state of relaxation.

It always made you both feel better. She loved having her hands in your hair and stroking it. And you loved the feeling she always gave you by doing it.

┉

You spent about twenty minutes just sitting and enjoying each other’s company before the water started getting cold. You met her eyes and she grabbed your face and leaned down to kiss you. 

“You want to go to bed?” You whispered to her. She nodded tracing your jaw. “Okay. Let’s go then.” You kissed her once more, then stood up and got out of the bathtub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself.

You grabbed another one while Nat got out as well and you wrapped it around her. You pulled her by it to you and kissed her, causing a smile to form on her lips. 

You both walked into the bedroom and throw on some clothes, before getting to bed and falling asleep holding each other.

You were sitting on a chair, completely exhausted. Your eyes not looking away from the man in front of you while you internally screamed.

“I know you are tired and barely have time for anything, but it’s the last time I’m asking you for this.” The man who was facing you said.

You lifted your hand to your temple and started massaging it with your eyes closed. “Nick, I’ve been helping you with that for two months now.” 

Looking at him again you met his apologetic eyes. “I know. Maria is almost healed, but she’s still not ready to work.” God, you hated that, another additional paperwork. “This is the last time. And I will give you time off for helping me with everything.” 

It doesn’t sound bad. You could finally have some time for yourself and make it up to Natasha for not having that much time for her. You really felt bad. She was trying to take care of you. She’d been doing everything she could, so you would stop working and not be on the verge of consciousness.

Slowly nodding, you saw how a small smile appeared on his lips. “Okay. How much this time?” You prayed it wasn’t the tone of shit again.

He opened his drawer and took out a key, before standing up from his chair and walking towards an office cabinet. Behind the doors were three medium-sized boxes. 

Gesturing his hands in their direction, he met your gaze. “This is all. I think it should take you a week.” You sighed in relief. There wasn’t that much of it. Could be worse.

You put your hands on armrests and started standing up. “Okay. I’m gonna take it and get to work right away.” You wanted to get it over with as fast as you could.

You moved to the boxes and saw Fury reaching for the one. You put your hand on his arm, stopping him. “Don’t, I’ll manage.” You told him chuckling. 

He retracted his hands and looked at you. “You sure? I can help you.” It warmed your heart. In everyone’s eyes, he was always this cold person, who didn’t know what feelings are. But for the chosen people, he was the most caring human.

You showed him your toothy grin, patting him on the arm. “I’m sure Nick. And you’re old, I don’t want you to break something while bending down.” Chuckling, you reached for the box on the bottom to lift all of them. 

Nick smiled at that and shook his head. “Okay, L/n. Don’t cross the line.” He said jokingly, pointing at you. You nodded at him and he grabbed your shoulder. “I’m really thankful for your help.” He said in a soft tone.

You send him a warm smile and nodded again. “I know. And don’t get wrong, I like helping you. It’s just that my schedule is fully packed and I barely have any time for Nat.” 

“Well, if you finish this, then both of you will get some time off.” He said, rounding his desk and sitting on the swivel chair.

“Thanks. I better get going. See you.” You replied, moving out of the office, hearing faint 'be safe' from Nick.

You got to the elevator and waited for it to stop on the floor where the garage was. After some stops and greetings with other agents, you got to the place you wanted and started walking towards your car. You shifted the weight and leaned boxes on your body, so you could open the trunk and put the boxes there, before closing it and moving to the driver’s seat.

On the way to the compound, you saw a flower shop and decided to make a quick stop. You parked your car and got out of it. You entered the store and headed to the counter. 

“Good morning.” You greeted the florist and looked around at all the different flowers.

“Good morning. What can I help you with?” The lady replied with a soft smile on her face.

“Could I get a bouquet of white roses? A big one.” You wanted to thank Natasha for everything and show your appreciation. 

“Of course. Please wait here for a moment.” The florist moved around the counter and started walking to the back of the store. 

In the meantime, you were taking in the amazing scenery around you that multiple different flowers created. Not long later the same lady came up to you with a beautiful bouquet. 

“Here it is. I hope it meets your expectations.” She said, a smile still plastered on her face.

You returned the gesture and nodded your head. “It’s even better than I expected.” You took out your wallet and paid for the flowers, leaving a big tip for the woman. “Thank you so much. Have a good day.” You told her, taking the flowers. You left the store, walked up to your car, and got in, putting white roses on the passenger seat. You started the car and drove to the compound. 

Walking out of the elevator you spotted Natasha almost instantly. She was standing near the couches in the living room with her back facing you. One of her hands rested on the top of the couch while the other one was holding a phone. Her eyes fully focused on its screen.

You crept behind her silently and started wrapping your arms around her waist, still paying attention not to ruin the flowers. When the bouquet came to her view her hand on the phone stilled and her body tensed for a second at your touch, but relaxed when she heard your voice. 

“Hello.” You said, moving closer to her and putting your head next to hers, so you could see the side of it.

Her eyes were fixated on the flowers. “What is this?” She asked and you saw a small smile forming on her lips. She put her phone down and took them with one hand running over the white petals.

“Flowers.” You replied with an obvious tone.

She turned her head to you. “I know that, idiot. Don’t be a smart-ass.” You chuckled at her reaction, tightening your arms around her.

“Wow, how charming.” You said teasingly, earning yourself a slap to your arm. “These are for you. As a thank you for everything, and for putting up with me for so long.” You couldn’t be more grateful for having her in your life. You wanted her to know that.

Her smile turned into a full toothy grin. She lifted her head while turning around to face you. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Pure love could be seen in her eyes. You wanted to give her all your time. And you would soon.

“I’m sorry for being busy all the time.” You started. “And I agreed to help Nick again. But it’s the last time and I will give you all my attention after that.” You swore to yourself you would spend every free second with her. 

She leaned up and kissed you softly. “It’s fine. I mean it sucks not having you as much as I would want to, but I know you do everything you can to spend your time with me.” She told you and you felt the warmth spreading all over your body. 

She was always understanding. No matter the situation, she never made a scene about anything or blamed you for something. You didn’t know what you did to have her, but you internally thank God for her.

“And I have a surprise.” You said and her eyebrows raised. “I hope you will like it.”

She seemed excited but confused as well. Her head tilted to the side a little. “What kind of surprise?.” 

You smiled at her, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, then on the nose, each cheek, and finally on the lips. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just say that I will have time to make up for the lost time.” Her eyes squinted, making you chuckle at her expression. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked suspiciously. You knew you had to get out of this situation or she would start asking questions.

You slowly unwrapped your arms from around her and started stepping away in the direction of the hallways. “Nothing that would be interesting.” You told her nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders, still moving away and out of the room. 

You were almost at the doorframe. Her head tilted more and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Y/n.” Sterness in her voice made you walking out faster. 

“Love you, babe!” You called out while almost jogging out of the living room.

You heard her shouting behind you. “L/n get back here.” This made you only run faster to the other elevator and push the button for the garage. You had to bring the boxes to the office and start working. You wanted to have your free time.

It was a week later. You’d been spending your time mostly in your office doing the paperwork. During the day you spent your time on training and other stuff you would always do, but at night and ‘till early hours of the next day, you were covered in multiple white pages. 

Frustrated huffs and groans could be heard through your door. It wasn’t that there were a lot of documents. It was the fact that you were so tired that somedays you had to change the reports several times. 

Yet, there was one thing or more like a person, who made it more bearable. 

Even though she was tired herself from her own training and missions, she always came to your office with a cup of tea that was made just the way you liked it. Every time you heard the door open, a smile made its way to your lips. 

Sometimes she stayed for a while, sitting next to you or on your lap and watching you work. She offered her help, saying that it would be faster if both of you took half of the documents. But you declined her offer. You didn’t want her to do your job. Not because you were some douchebag who wouldn’t let their woman work. You were the one who agreed to help Nick and you wouldn’t want Nat to become more exhausted than she already was.

You saw how draining her missions could be sometimes. Or how she barely kept herself awake after a long and boring meeting that was about nothing interesting. You didn’t want to add to that. And after all, this was the last week of doing this, so you could manage. Her way of helping you was already more than enough. 

You could win against stupid paperwork. You fought hundreds of armed people, you were putting your life on the line almost every day. You wouldn’t lose to a piece of fucking paper. Even though sometimes it looked like you were close to that. Throwing documents all over the floor and desk just to find the one that you needed at that moment.

Natasha wanted to take away some of the work from you. She wanted your eyes to rest. Red veins were clearly noticeable, just as the bags under your eyes. Your tired and generally poor state worried her more than she would want to and the numerous reassurances that you were fine did nothing to ease her mind.

But seeing as you wouldn’t let her even touch the documents, she just let that go and took care of you in different ways. Ways that you were more than grateful for and she saw that just like she saw the silent thank you’s that were evident in the twinkle in your eyes and your smiles.

Sometimes she would drag you away from the laptop, push you down on the kitchen stool, and ordered you to eat. Yes, ordered. Sometimes she would just bring you food and wait for you to eat it, knowing that you wouldn’t probably touch it if she left, you would just continue your work.

Sometimes she tried to make you go to sleep earlier, but you insisted on staying a little longer, so you would finish everything in a shorter period of time. It wasn’t convincing, especially when she saw you barely sitting on your swivel chair, but she knew that in some situations you were just as stubborn as her. You would tell her that you would come to bed shortly after her and she would let you be. 

Just like tonight. 

Natasha stirred awake and moved closer to the other side of the bed, looking for the warmth of your body. But she didn’t find it. She reached out her hand and met empty sheets. She opened her eyes slightly, lifting her head from the pillow, and looked at the spot you should be occupying by now. 

She turned her head to the nightstand on her side of the bed and grabbed her phone to check the hour. It was almost 3 AM. You were supposed to be here about an hour ago. She frowned to herself putting the phone down and started standing up. 

She raised her hand to her head and lightly scratched it, before bringing it down to cover her mouth with the back of it to stifle a yawn. She walked out of the room and headed to your office. After rounding the corner, the light of your laptop’s screen could be seen thanks to your ajar door.

She walked up to them and quietly pushed them, so she could walk into your office. The sight she was met with made her sleepy eyes soften. You were sitting on your swivel chair, arms crossed on your desk and your head turned to the side, resting on them. She started walking towards you, rounding the desk, and standing next to your sleeping form. 

She saved the work you’d done and closed the laptop. She lightly touched your shoulder with one hand and ran through your hair with the other, leaning down a little to your ear. “Baby, wake up.” She whispered but didn’t get any response from you.

She shook you lightly, earning a small groan, signaling that you were slowly gaining your consciousness. “Y/n/n, you have to wake up, so we can go to bed.” You looked so cute at that moment and she wouldn’t dream of waking you up if it wasn't for the fact that it was late and you were sleeping on your desk.

You shifted your body slightly and she ran her hand through your hair again. “I need you to wake up.“ She tried again, and this time you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times. Your eyes went higher and met hers. You lifted your upper body from the desk and reached your hand to your face to rub the sleep off. 

“What are you doing here?” The raspiness in your voice was clear as a day. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” She cupped your face and kissed you, making a lazy smile appear on your face. 

“I woke up and you weren’t in bed, so I came for you. Come on.” She replied, and grabbed your hands, pulling you up on your feet. She saw your questioning gaze focused on your closed laptop. “Don’t worry, I saved your work and closed it.” You just nodded and she slowly started dragging you out of the office and to your shared bedroom.

You were like a little kid who didn’t have a clue about what was happening around them but followed anyway. 

Reaching your bedroom, Natasha opened the door and let you walk in first before she did the same and closed the door behind her. You looked lost. Like you didn’t know what to do. 

You just were standing in the middle of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Your hair was a mess, sticking out in every possible way. Eyebrows slightly lifted and head tilted down a little. You let your hand fall to your side and turned to Natasha. Your sleepy eyes only added to your adorable look, and she smiled to herself at the sight of you.

“Come on, you need to change.” With that being said, she moved to the walk-in closet and grabbed one of your sweatpants and t-shirt while you patiently waited. 

She came back and helped you get out of your t-shirt and jeans before you put on new clothes. She threw the ones you just took off on the sofa and softly grabbed your hand, moving to the bed. 

Laying down, she opened her arms for you. You sent her a sleepy smile that warmed her heart, then bent down and settled between her legs. Your head laid just under her breasts and your arms went around her, hugging her tightly.

She put her hand under your t-shirt and gently rubbed your back while the other one went to your hair and started slowly running through them.

Your hum of appreciation didn’t go unnoticed by her and she smiled to herself, looking down at you. 

Then your head turned and raised a little to look at her. “By the way, I have something to tell you.” You whispered sleepily, holding her gaze.

She hummed softly, moving her hand from your back to your cheek, and stroked it lightly. “What?” 

“You remember how I told you about that surprise a week ago?” You asked, closing your eyes for a moment, before opening them again.

She nodded, not stopping her movements. “Yeah, what about it?” She wanted you to go to sleep, but she saw how excited you were to tell her whatever it was, despite your obvious exhaustion.

“I got us two weeks off from work.” You told her quietly with a bright smile, clearly proud of yourself. 

Her eyebrows raised. “How?” She was genuinely intrigued by how you did that. She didn’t remember doing anything that would let her have some free time from work.

“A week ago, Nick told me that after doing this paperwork, he will give us both some time off. We talked about it yesterday and he agreed on two weeks.” You explained to her. By now you were barely staying awake, but you wanted to tell her about it so bad. “You like my surprise?” 

She chuckled quietly and nodded. “I love your surprise. Finally, we will have time just for ourselves.” She said and kissed you gently. 

“I know. I’ll make it up to you for not having time for you for those couple of weeks.” You told her in the same tone, by now getting lost in her forest-green eyes. 

She kissed the tip of your nose, still running her hand through your hair and with the other one stroking your cheek. “You already did.” You gave her a lazy smile and pecked her lips a couple of times.

You started kissing her all over her face, making her giggle. “I love you. And thank you for everything. I’m so glad to have you.” You said, sincerity laced in your tone.

Her heart fluttered and she gave you another small kiss on the lips. “I love you too. And you have no idea how happy I am to have you too.” She grabbed your face in both of her hands. This time giving you a passionate and much-needed kiss. 

You both pulled away slowly, brushing your noses together. “Now, go to sleep. You really need that.” She whispered tracing your jaw. 

You nodded and gave her one last peck, before laying your head back under her breasts, getting comfortable and ready to let the sleep consume you.

Her hands went back to their previous positions. One rubbing your back and the other running through your hair, making you fall asleep faster. 

She was glad to have. You made her feel like she was the most important person in the whole universe. Like she wasn’t that cold-hearted and deadly assassin. With you, she was herself. One look from you and she could feel how much love you had for her. 

You provided her warmth, happiness, safe place. You showed her understanding and small things that could light up her day. The ones she didn’t notice before. You were her everything, and she was yours.

She always made sure you were fine. When you forgot to take care of yourself, she always did that for you. She did the small things, just like you did for her, and she knew you were thankful for that. You were thankful for her. 

You jokingly called her your sneaky little Angel. But she truly was your Angel. And every time you held her or simply were in her presence, you felt like in heaven.

[21burritoseavey]

Hey love!

Hope you’re doing good.

I have cute idea where y/n is having a bad day then she goes to Daniel house and she ask Christian where is Daniel he tells her he is in the studio and Daniel was live on ig but y/n thought he playing piano and recording himself so she sat on his lap , he panicked because they were still a secret and he wanted his relationship private.

I hope that’s not to crazy

Hey! I’m doing great and I hope you are too. thanks for requesting!

Secret Relationship (d.s)

a/n: k just pretend that the background of that photo is the studio lol. I will most likely do a little pt.2 for another request I got:) if you want other scenarios or anything let me know cos this was fun lol. enjoy!

It was fair to say Y/n was having a bad day. The morning rose and fell as quickly as the leaves fell from the autumn trees outside, but once it was time for the sun to descend, the hours couldn’t have inched past any slower, crawling in one by one as she worked quietly behind the wooden desk after school.

It was 4:56pm when she glimpsed over at her lock screen to realise, she had an hour left before the library would close for the day. The school building was quiet at that hour. Most people were revelling in the joys and relief the weekend had graciously brought and only the janitor was seen wiping down the windows in the distance.

She could barely keep her eyes open as she wrote down the last of her notes. Her fingers ached after scrolling through the pages...and documents...and slides on her laptop and her brain went practically numb from all the letters and numbers she’d stared at. The unsteady pile of books beside her was not helping either. All those thoughts of work had her craving her boyfriend’s presence. She just wanted one of Daniel’s hugs at that point. The warmth of his strong arms wrapped around her and the comforting beating of his tender heart right against her ear. Every aspect of Daniel’s affection was practically engrained in her mind. The thought of being with him squirmed in the back of her mind, tugging at her heartstrings until she finally sighed and closed her books. She tucked her belongings into her backpack and made her way out of the library - after giving the quiet librarian a wave - and across the campus.

Y/n found herself standing behind the Seavey’s front door. She knocked a couple times and heard the door handle rattle after a moment. Christian slowly came into view as the door creaked open.

Y/n cracked a gentle smile. “Hey, Y/n,” Christian moved to the side to let her walk through. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay, thanks for asking.” She replied. “And you?”

Christian noticed how Y/n’s shoulders slumped as she walked and the subtle frown playing at her lips, but he kept his thoughts to himself. “I’m great, just finished a self-tape.” He sat on the couch nearby.

“That’s great.” Y/n yawned. She’d come over to the Seavey’s house many times before so making herself comfortable was never an issue. Her blanket was tossed in the corner of the sofa, and she reached an arm to pull it towards her. Christian chuckled lightly as she plunked herself down and closed her eyes. The quiet of the home allowed her to enjoy some well-deserved rest. Only some, because in minutes Kobe was scampering down the hall and jumping into Y/n’s arms.

“Oh my God!” Y/n lifted herself up again and pet the excited dog as he licked her. She turned towards Christian again with Kobe shuffling further into her chest. “Is Daniel home?”

Christian looked up from his phone. “Yeah, in the studio.”

Y/n sent him a quiet ‘thank you’ before she was jumping out of her seat and rushing outside, across the patio. Kobe was quick at her heels.

Y/n had slowed down once she reached the door. She pressed her ear against the cold surface and listened in. The faint sounds of Daniel’s piano playing had sailed along the studio and seeped through the small gaps of the door, dancing with the steady breeze.

The soft, bell-like melodies emitting from the piano had smeared an unmistakable grin on Y/n’s face and she let her hands twist the doorknob quietly to not send Daniel out of his playing. She could sense his happiness from a mile away and today was no different. He was doing the very thing he loved after all.

The heart fluttering sight of him in an oversized, grey hoodie had her shoulders untensing and her face softening. “Hi,” She greeted. She trudged over and rested her palms on his shoulders from behind. His phone leaned against the music rack, with comments and questions gradually moving upwards beside little floating hearts. The live Instagram broadcast on his phone remained totally invisible to the young, tired girl. Daniel was hardly able to utter a warning before she draped her legs across his thighs to sit on his lap.

He couldn’t contain his nervous giggles as she hung her arms over his shoulders, “Hey, b-...Y/n.”

“Hi,” Y/n replied. She nestled her head into his chest and even clutched Daniel’s arms to rest around her waist. The Instagram live played on as the young couple rested together on the bench. Daniel kept his arms wrapped tightly around his girlfriend despite his heart’s intense beating.

He looked towards his phone screen again. “She’s just giving me a hug.” He reassured the viewers the best he could. He knew no one was buying it though. The comments were brimming with heart-eye emojis or excited comments in all caps.

Daniel peered down at his girlfriend, tucked comfortably and unbothered in his arms. “Just a really long hug.” He nodded towards the screen again.

Y/n went out like a light. She was perfectly content cradled in her boyfriend’s loving embrace, already drifting into a peaceful drea-

“Y/n.” A sweat broke over Daniel’s forehead. He snatched sneaky glances towards his phone before trying again, “Y/n!” He whispered sharply through the warm toned room.

“What?” Y/n mumbled quietly. She rubbed her eyes to spread her consciousness further.

“People are watching.” Daniel jerked his head towards the phone screen in front of them.

Y/n snapped her head to look at his phone propped up against the music stand. “Oh! Ri-right.” She shifted off Daniel’s lap quickly. He tried to wear a smile for the audience in his phone that were very much engrossed in the situation. Y/n dropped her gaze to the floor and picked at her nails. “I’m just...” She flung her arm to gesture towards the door, “gonna go.” Y/n’s nervous words were barely heard through the room and Daniel’s expression faltered as he watched her stride off for the living room without a second glance.

He felt terrible. He fought the urge to run after her and make sure she was okay, merely spinning back around to face the screen. “Okay,” he said breathily, pressing the keys harshly to produce a muddled mess of notes. He didn’t feel like playing anymore.

---

Daniel dragged his feet out of the studio towards the living room. He noticed Y/n sitting on the couch during the rest of his livestream and desperately wanted to make sure she was okay. Outside, the sunset bloomed beautifully, setting the sky ablaze with soft colours as Kobe played quietly on the patio. He ran towards the main house as Daniel slid open the door.

Y/n gave him a quick upward glimpse before lowering her eyes again. But then she looked up again, noticing his usual soothing smile replaced with a long frown. “You okay?” She asked softly.

Daniel fell back onto the sofa with a deep huff before glancing at her. “No. I’m sorry you had to leave like that.”

Y/n chuckled, “It’s okay.” She shuffled closer to him. Her body was angled slightly towards his and she dragged an arm to rest across his shoulders. Daniel moved to rest in between her crossed legs, and he rested his head on her chest. “We both want our relationship to be private, so...it’s okay.” Y/n consoled with a giggle. “I think your fans are suspicious now though.” She let a smirk tug at the corner of her lips. Daniel raised his eyes to meet her sparkly eyes.

“Oh, they’re definitely suspicious now.” Daniel took her hand away from his shoulder and entwined their fingers in a loose grip to kiss her knuckles. He cupped her face with his other hand and kissed her lips strongly. Y/n sighed pleasantly into it, finally feeling that relief she’d been waiting for all day. That reassuring affection that pulled her into a wave of warmth and comfort. They silently enjoyed the love that danced through their bodies and in between them for a few long moments.

Daniel pulled back and intertwined their fingers again. “It won’t be like this forever, Y/n.”

taglist: @chilling-seavey @randomlimelightxxx @marthagryffindor @hackerXavery 

join my taglist!

[bees--in-my--bones]

Mission: New Asgard

Character: Loki x reader (completely gender neutral. There are zero indications of the readers gender, no pronouns at all. Note that this is written from the perspective of a woman, though, so if something is too biased, please let me know!)

Summary: You are assigned to help integrate the Asgardians to Midgardian society, but your mission ends a whole lot different than you expect.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 5,493

A/N: My second fic! The title is supposed to be a play on the Mission: Impossible movies, but I've never actually seen one, so sorry if it's wrong lol. Now that I officially have more than one fic, I'm gonna make a masterlist, so that will be coming soon. I hope you like the story!

You rapped your knuckles on the office door that had been left slightly ajar. “Director Mackenzie? You asked to see me?”

“Come on in, Y/N. Elena was just leaving.”

You opened the door and nodded at Agent Rodriguez as she made her way out. She gave you a curt nod in return.

Alphonso Mackenzie, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., leaned back into the chair behind his desk and gestured for you to have a seat. “And for the last time, Y/N, you are one of my most trusted operatives. Call me Mack, please.”

You sat down. “Sorry, Mack.”

He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a file folder stuffed to the brim with documents, which he dropped onto the desk between you, the loud thwap resounding in the small office.

“I have a mission for you, Agent. A few days ago, the planet Asgard was completely destroyed.”

“Asgard?” you interjected. “Like where Thor is from?”

He nodded. “You’ll find all of that and more in these files. Thor and his brother Loki have set up a colony in a small town in Norway. We need you to supervise the integration of the Asgardian people onto Earth. This is the first known mass migration of aliens that our planet has ever seen, and we need to be keeping a close eye on this, or it could go sideways real fast.”

You pulled the files closer and began to flip through a few pages. “I thought Loki was a bad guy. What was it? 80 people in 2 days? Plus the invasion of New York. Why are we letting him back here?”

Mack sighed and rubbed his temple. “I can’t personally vouch for the man, but Thor claims he was being mind controlled. According to Thor, Loki eventually broke free of the control and killed the guy who was behind the whole thing. Some alien named Thanos? Tony Stark himself seems okay with this New Asgard business, and you know how paranoid he gets. So for now, we observe, not attack.”

“Gotcha,” you said. “When do I leave?”

“As soon as you can get your stuff together and get out of here. Say the word and we'll start prepping a Quinjet.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you said, standing up and grabbing the files. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get an idea of my timeline.”

“Thank you Agent L/N, and good luck.”

------

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, barely making a rather sharp turn. When you finished this assignment, you were going to have to have a talk with whoever designed these roads. Despite the unsafe driving conditions, though, you sighed in contentment. You were back in the field, this is where you belonged.

You pulled a van loaded to the brim with various tech items mixed in with your personal possessions down a bumpy road, coming to a stop before a small, rustic-looking, seaside town, where two men and a woman stood for you. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. You turned the key and shut off the van, trying to get a read on each of the people standing before you.

The buff blond man was clearly Thor. You recognized him from the news and the files you had read. Next to him was a tall woman with dark hair who had wan air of confidence about her. You had never seen her, nor did S.H.I.E.L.D. have any data on her. The third man was lanky, but clearly still fit, with dark hair that fell just past his shoulders. He was clad in green and had a demeanor that made you shiver. This was Loki, scourge of New York and would-be king of Midgard. But Thor and Tony Stark had vouched for him, and that would have to be enough for Y/N L/N, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

You exited the van and heard Thor call to you. “Welcome, newcomer! Our scouts observed your vehicle approaching our home!”

You walked briskly towards the group. Game time. Put on the 'no time for your shit' face and get to business. Coming to a stop in front of them, you began to speak. “My name is Y/N L/N and I am here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division of the American government. We have been granted permission from the government of Norway to oversee this colony's development. This is an unprecedented situation on Earth, and as such, we have written new protocols. I am the agent assigned to this case, and I will be supervising the construction of New Asgard and its integration into Midgardian society.”

Thor furrowed his brow. “I was under the impression that S.H.I.E.L.D. was controlled by Hydra.”

You nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. The previous incarnation of S.H.I.E.L.D. was corrupt, but we are a hardy breed, so to speak. A much smaller branch has survived, and deals with various situations across the world, aliens being one of them.”

Thor nodded. “Then we welcome your presence here with open arms.”

Loki scoffed. “You are too trusting, brother. This so-called agent could be anyone. What cause do we have to believe this story?”

You turned to him. “Loki, God of Mischief, Chaos, and Lies, correct? You of all people should know, am I lying?”

He stared at you, long and hard, before shaking his head. “No, I suppose you aren’t,” he admitted.

“There’s that then,” you said. “Now, I will need to ask the three of you some questions regarding yourselves, if you don’t mind.”

-----

The strange woman was first. You had been given a small shack to conduct your interviews out of, the woman stared at you from across the table, looking for all the world like she had somewhere better to be.

“Name?”

“Brunnhilde.”

“No family name?”

“I am a Valkyrie. I have no blood other than my sisters.”

“Right,” you said, “You lived on Asgard then?”

Her face took on a sour look. “A long time ago. I’ve spent the last few centuries on a different planet, Sakaar.”

You scribbled the information into your notepad. “What do you do then? If you were gone so long, why are you back with the Asgardians?”

Her chest puffed with pride. “I am to be the new King of Asgard. On the Summer Solstice we will hold a coronation. It will give the people enough time to accept the transfer of power from Odin’s bloodline to me, and for me to learn how to lead.”

You nodded and took note of it. “Congratulations,Your Majesty-to-be. I believe that’s all I need for now, but I expect we will see a lot of each other over the months.”

-----

Thor. The large man sat across from you, seemingly happy to be there.

“Thor Odinson, correct?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

“And I hear you're passing on the title of King to Brunnhilde?”

A dark look came over his face. “I have learned recently that my family has done many wrongs by Asgard. As long as I breathe, I will fight for Asgard and her people, but I do not believe it is my place to rule. Brunnhilde loves the people and has a talent for leadership. She will be a much better King than I.”

“A very noble decision, Thor. Thank you very much, and please send your brother in on your way out.”

-----

“Name?”

“I believe you know who I am.”

You sighed. “It's a formality, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Friggason.”

“What?”

“I prefer Loki Friggason.”

You nodded, and made the necessary changes to his file. “Noted. Anything else I should know about?”

“Just a warning,” he said, leaning forward, his voice dangerously low. “I am the God of Lies. The truth is a luxury I will afford no one, especially your little government. The God of Chaos is an enemy you do not want to have.”

You raised an eyebrow, and wrote a single word in your file, exaggerating each syllable as you wrote it out. “Dra. Ma. Tic.”

Truth be told, you were a little scared, given this guy’s reputation, but you would be damned before you let your exterior crack.

Loki scowled. He seemed to do that a lot. “You mortals think you are so funny, do you not?”

You shrugged. “I’m delightful.” You slipped your papers into your file folder and stood up. “See you around, Friggason.”

You left, leaving Loki slightly aghast that you had managed to get the last word in.

-----

You walked calmly out of the hut, then quickened your pace as you made your way back to your van. Loki, as much as it pained you to say, had been intimidating, and your heart was beating a mile a minute.

You opened the door and climbed inside, shoving your paperwork into a filing cabinet, which you promptly locked. You turned to your computers, fiddling with the buttons, atttempting to establish your connection back to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

"It's quite rude to walk out on a prince, you know."

You jumped and whipped around to see Loki standing outside your van.

"What the hell!"

"I said-"

"I know what you said, Your Highness," you interrupted. "But you scared the shit out of me. “

"Many apologies," he said as he hoisted himself up to sit on the edge of the van, his insincerity clear. "And I grant you permission to refer to me as Loki."

"How generous," you muttered, before going back to your instruction manual. Technology had never been your forte. You chose being a field agent over a scientist for a reason.

The both of you sat in silence for a while, you working slowly through the instructions that Fitz, a S.H.I.E.L.D agent much more qualified in machinery than you, had given you.

You glanced up at Loki, half expecting to see him sleeping against the van's frame, only to find his gaze resting on you.

"Can I help you?" you asked.

He just laughed a bit, like staring at you had been the most normal thing in the world. "I am watching you, Midgardian, lest you sabotage the society my brother is trying to build."

"I never took you for the loyal type," you said, putting away your things. "I'm gonna have to ask you to get outta here though."

“Why?”

You gestured to the twilight outside. “It’s late. I’ve had a long day. I’m going to bed.”

Loki strained his head slightly, attempting to peek into the van. “Where do you plan on sleeping?”

Not breaking eye contact, you grabbed a cord on the wall and yanked, and the rusty old pull-down bed flopped out with a loud groan. The rickety old thing was probably going to give you back problems by the time you were done here, but such was life. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s money was usually spent on more pressing things than upgrading amenities for field agents.

Loki’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “You are not sleeping in that. We’ve built a larger house for Thor, Brunnhilde, and I. You’ll stay in one of the guest rooms there.”

You shrugged. “It’s not too bad out here.”

“Mortals,” he said under his breath, almost indecipherably, before speaking again, at a normal volume this time. “I insist. Whether I like it or not, you are a guest of Asgard, and you will be treated as such. Besides, that bed looks seconds away from collapsing.”

You nodded, trying not to betray your confusion at the combination of his kindness and rudeness. “Thank you, just give me a second to lock up.” You grabbed the pieces you had been fiddling with, then paused, your hand hovering over the satellite dish. “Actually, if you’re just gonna sit there, you may as well make yourself useful. You can teleport right?”

Suspicion crossed his face. “Yes?”

You held out the device. “Hop up to the top of the van, there should be a little cord. It’ll fit into this port here,” you said gesturing. “Plug it in for me, please?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You ask a god to do your bidding?”

You scoffed. “You’re not a god, you're an alien. And I just asked for a favor. You’re free to say no, but I’m exhausted, and as much as I would like to put off climbing on the roof off until tomorrow, I need to send a check in to headquarters ASAP.”

He begrudgingly reached out and took the dish and you watched as his form rippled green and faded away. You heard shuffling on the roof for a moment, then silence, before the Asgardian reappeared in front of you.

“If that’s all, Midgardian?” he said.

“Thank you, Highness,” you said, ignoring his tone. “And thank you for offering the room.” The monitor beeped a confirmation that your signal had connected and you punched in a code to let S.H.I.E.L.D. know you had made it to New Asgard. You grabbed the bag you had packed and hopped out of the van, waiting for Loki to follow suit before closing the doors and locking the vehicle.

You offered him your arm. “Shall we?”

He brushed past you, rolling his eyes at your mock-politeness.

“Alright then,” you muttered, “This is gonna be fun, isn’t it?” Taking one last look at the van behind you, you moved to catch up with the Asgardian walking briskly away from you.

-----

Loki had not been talkative on the way to the house, and after being curtly shown to your room, he quickly left. You had settled into a decently sized room complete with a desk and a small bathroom attached. Undoubtedly, the house was a far cry from an Asgardian palace, but it was much larger than needed for three, even four, people. Surprisingly, you got a sound night’s sleep.

You woke to rambunctious laughter, and, wiping bleariness from your eyes, got out of bed. You stood in front of a small mirror on the wall and attempted to make yourself look slightly less like you had just woken up. Moving to your bag, you put on clothes that were much more professional than the old sweatshirt you were currently wearing.

Finally satisfied, you stepped out of your room and followed the sounds of conversation into the kitchen, where you found Brunnhilde and Thor joking at the counter while Loki sat at a dining room table, reading a book.

Seeing you, Thor broke into a smile. “Y/N! Loki had told us you would be staying here!”

You returned the smile. “Thank you for letting me stay here, Thor. I really appreciate this.”

The large man set a plate heaping with food on the table and gestured for you to sit. You did, glancing at Loki as you took the seat across from him, but he made no move to acknowledge that you were there. Brunnhidle began to speak. “We will be building fishing boats today down at the docks today. Will you be joining us, Y/N? We could use an extra set of hands.”

You nodded. “I don’t mind helping out. I have a few things to take care of first, though, so I’ll meet you all down there.”

Thor clapped. “Excellent! We’ll make an Asgardian out of you yet!”

You laughed softly and finished your meal as Thor and Brunnhilde began to tell you the plans for the day.

------

After breakfast, you ran up to your room to grab your laptop and then met the rest of the group on the stairs of the house. “I’ll see you guys in a little while,” you said, waving while walking in the opposite direction.

Thor and Brunnhidle branched off from you, but Loki, still silent, walked beside you towards your van.

You looked at him quizzically, but he seemed to have no intention of indicating why he was with you, and not with Thor and Brunnhilde.

Finally, as you approached your van, you caved and asked. “Why are you with me instead of your brother?”

“I’ve consulted with Thor. I will be supervising you for the remainder of your stay here.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “I’m supposed to be supervising you guys!”

“You are a stranger,” he replied, “and there’s something about you that I don’t trust. I have harmed Asgard many times over, and I don’t intend to let you get away with hurting these people any more.” There was an edge to his voice, that you had to admit, scared you.

After a long moment, you sighed. “Fine. I could use an assistant, I guess.” Which was apparently the right thing to say, because it made him clearly flustered.

“I am no one’s assistant, I am a prince of Asgard,” he argued as you turned away from him, partially to unlock your van and partially to hide your laughter.

You hopped up into the vehicle and grabbed a folder and tossed it to Loki, who was still sputtering about his status behind you. “Scan those in, would you?” you said gesturing at a machine in the back corner of the van.

He huffed but snatched the folder from your hand and went to fiddle with the machine.

You glanced over. “Do you know how to use that?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “This is primitive technology compared to what I have seen in my travels.”

You shrugged. “Okay.” You turned to your computer and queued up a call to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ. “I’m gonna need you to be quiet for a second,” you said, right before Mack’s face popped onto the screen.

“Y/N! How’s Norway treating you?” he said with a smile.

“Colder than I thought, but not too bad. They’ve given me an actual bed to sleep in. You really need to update the beds in these vans,” you joked.

“I’ll let the budget committee know,” he replied. “I trust Thor and Loki are being cooperative, then?”

“More or less,” you said before stepping to the side, putting Loki in full view of your webcam.

Mack’s eyes widened. The change was subtle, but you could tell he was surprised. “That’s Loki.”

“Yup.”

“In your van.”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“His Highness has deemed me untrustworthy, and decided I need a chaperone.”

“Right,” said Mack, suspicion in his voice. “Well you know the drill. Weekly check-ins, and don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any problems,” he said, looking at Loki.

“Gotcha, Mack. Talk to you next week,” you said, turning off the call. You turned to Loki, who had yet to even turn the scanner on. “You don’t know how to work that, do you?”

He glared at you and did not reply.

“Come here, Your Highness, I’ll show you. It really isn’t that hard.”

“You know the honorific loses its value when you say it so sarcastically,” he said, while watching your motions intensely, memorizing the steps to work the machine.

“Sorry, Highness.”

-----

The two of you walked down to the beach shortly after, meeting Brunnhilde and Thor at the docks. You were allotted supplies and miraculously, you and Loki ended up caulking the same boat.

Great.

The silence was deafening at first, until you decided to break it.

“You know I never would have assumed that someone of such status would be out here doing the dirty work,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

He grimaced. “I owe Asgard a debt. I intend to repay it, however I can offer service.”

“A very noble stance from Loki, God of Mischief.”

He grinned and looked up, meeting your eyes. “I find that one can be noble while still being quite mischievous.”

You felt your face heat up, and ducked your head, looking down at your work. He had smiled at you, for the first time, and what he had said had sounded almost like flirting. Why had that made your stomach turn in such a strange way?

“Oh my,” he laughed. “Seems that the Midgardian is finally speechless.”

“Just trying to hold my tongue around my betters, Highness,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Now let’s get to work before Brunnhilde has our heads.”

-----

Finally, late that afternoon, the work was done, and the New Asgard armada of fishing boats was ready for a celebratory launch. You and Loki stood in the crowd, watching Brunnhilde give a speech in front of the flagship, which really wasn’t much larger than the rest of the fleet. Loki leaned over and whispered to you, “You know, back in the day, the Norse would give a human sacrifice to the sea god to ensure safe passage.”

You wrinkled your nose, put off by the suggestion. “I think I prefer the more English tradition,” you replied, watching as Brunnhilde smashed a bottle of champagne against the hull of the ship.

Loki sighed. “Such a waste of perfectly good champagne.”

“I’m sure there's plenty more alcohol around here somewhere,” you said as you walked over to your boat, preparing for her maiden voyage. You hopped in and offered Loki your hand to help him in. He hesitated, but he took it.

“What should we name her?” you asked.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, “We have to give our ship a name.”

Loki seemed to ponder it a moment before deciding. “How about The Midgardian?”

You put your hand on your chest in mock flattery. “Aww, you named her after me, didn’t you?”

He laughed. “It’s a fitting name. She’s lackluster and hardly even worthy of being called a boat.” His words were biting, and maybe you were imagining things, but you could have sworn you heard the playfulness in his voice.

You laughed and tossed him an oar. “For you, Highness.”

“Many thanks, Midgardian.”

The two of you followed the rest of New Asgard, rowing out to sea. Suddenly, you noticed a small sprig of water in the bottom of the boat. “Loki,” you said, the fear dawning on you, “I think the boat is leaking.”

He turned to see the small leak coming through the floorboards. “Okay,” he said, suddenly serious, “Don’t panic. Let’s turn around.”

You switched the side you were paddling on, beginning to move the boat in a circle. Before you could completely orient yourselves, the floorboards cracked, and a large chunk of wood detached from the boat. You yelped as the water came flooding in.

Loki swore. “Can you swim?” he asked you, speaking quickly.

You nodded. All S.H.I.E.L.D. agents knew how to swim.

“Then jump!” he said, and you did, without a second thought. Your boat was sinking fast, and there was no way you were going to make it back to shore dry.

You hit the water, and a second later, heard Loki behind you.

“Swim towards Thor’s boat, he can get us-”

You missed the rest of his sentence as you were pulled away from him.

You fought the current that had taken hold of you, but your panic was making things worse. In the confusion, you lost control, and dipped under water. The ocean filled your mouth. Breaking the surface again, you choked out most of the water, trying to stay calm and find a way out, but every second you were being pulled further out to sea. Falling under once again, you were prepared to accept your fate when a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around you and pulled you into calmer waters.

You gasped for air as Loki held you against himself, allowing you time to recover.

“Wha- How did-” you began, once you could speak.

“Don’t talk, just breathe,” he said. “I am a god, I can overpower currents much easier than your mortal bodies can.”

“Thank you, Loki,” you said.

“You are welcome, Y/N.”

A larger boat pulled up next to you, Thor leaning over the side. “Brother, Agent Y/N! Take my hand!”

Loki helped you onto the deck of the boat before climbing over the side himself.

You flopped onto the deck, panting. “Rest in peace, SS Midgardian.”

-----

Later that night, you and Loki sat together watching the fire crackle. Thor had brought you a hot drink, and after plenty of fussing ensuring that you were okay, had left to do something leader-ish with Brunnhilde.

Suddenly, a loud scuffling at the door broke the silence and a series of thudding footsteps made their way toward you. Upon seeing your company, Loki sighed, exasperated. You turned and saw a large figure that appeared to be made out of rock alongside a smaller, insect-looking creature.

The large one began to speak, his gentle tone in contrast with his threatening form. “Hello. Um, I’m Korg and this is my friend Meik. We came to apologize for the whole boat thing. Thor put us in charge of wood collection, so it’s our bad, really. Sorry.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright,” you said, still processing the fact that there were two very large, very strange-looking, aliens in the living room. “You couldn’t have known the wood was rotting, and no one’s dead, so we’re good.”

“Alright, cool,” said Korg. “No harm, no foul, yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right then,” he said, scooping up Miek. “We’ve gotta get going. Thor put us on clean up duty for the next week.”

“Thank you, Korg!” you called, but he was already out the door.

Loki let out another sigh. “Idiots.”

You turned back to him. “I had no idea there were other aliens here! How many species came with you?”

“Just Korg and Meik. And unfortunately, they are around a lot.”

You settled into your armchair. “I’m gonna have to document this.” But even as you said it, you could feel yourself drifting off.

-----

The next day you woke in your own bed, slightly embarrassed at the implication that Loki had carried you there, but he never brought it up, so neither did you.

The next few weeks were filled with collecting information and helping with the construction of New Asgard to fill the rest of your time. Always, of course, accompanied by Loki. In a strange way, you were becoming friends. The two of you never exchanged a single kind word, but your actions said otherwise. Before long, it seemed less like Loki was breathing down your neck and more like he was genuinely relaxing around you.

“Hey, Mack,” you said, beginning your weekly call-in, Loki now sitting beside you instead of hiding in the background.

“Hey there, Y/N. How’s it going, Loki?”

“Quite well, thank you, Director Mackenzie.”

You stared at him in shock. You had never heard Loki use honorifics for a Midgardian.

The rest of the call was uneventful, and as soon as you hung up, you whirled toward Loki.

“You were polite!” you said, your tone accusatory.

Loki sniffed. “I do have manners, you know.”

“You called him Director Mackenzie.”

“And?”

“And I can count the number of times you’ve used my real name on one hand. It’s always ‘Midgardian’ this ‘Midgardian’ that. You know Mack’s a Midgardian too, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “And you call me ‘Highness’ in that terrible mocking tone of yours. The disrespect is mutual.”

You sighed. “Fine, we’ll call a truce. I’ll call you Loki, you call me Y/N, deal?” You stuck out your hand, waiting for his response.

He seemed to be considering his options, before he settled on his choice. “Deal.” He grasped your hand firmly within his and shook it.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Loki,” you said, leaning back into your chair.

“What now, Y/N?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I dunno. Brunnhilde and Thor don’t have anything going on, and I’m done with what I need to do.” You started clicking around on your computer. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“I’ve heard of movies, but never seen one.”

“You’ve never seen a movie?” you asked. “I guess that makes sense. It’s basically just a recorded play. You’ll love it.” You pulled up a movie. One of the lesser known perks of working for S.H.I.E.L.D.: free Netflix. “This is one of my favorites,” you said as the opening credits rolled.

“I suppose you aren’t giving me a choice then?” he asked.

“Nope,” you replied. “Now be quiet and watch.”

-----

Later that night, you were in the kitchen with Thor, cleaning up after dinner. The two of you worked in comfortable silence until suddenly-

“Are you and my brother involved romantically?”

The plate you were washing fell into the soapy water with a splash.

“What?”

“I have never seen him willingly be around a person as he is you,” Thor explained. “And he has changed. He is happier than he was before Midgard.”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t- I thought he was just ‘supervising’ in case I tried to kill you all.”

“Hardly. The man just has no clue how to adjust to a more… domestic lifestyle. He wants to be around you, he just does not know how to express that.”

“Huh,” was all you managed to say, not looking up from the dishes.

Thor let out a small chuckle. “One day you two will figure it out,” he said so quietly you weren’t even sure he said it.

-----

More time passed, you and Loki still spending your days together. Before you knew it, the Summer Solstice was here, and you spent the morning preparing.

Rushing around your van, alone for once, you scrambled to get your work done quickly before Brunnhidle’s coronation began.

Finishing up you glanced at your monitor when you saw a message pop up.

Alphonso Mackenzie: I forgot to mention it in our call this week, but you’re coming up on the six month mark, and there seems to be no complications with Asgard’s transition, so we’ll be pulling you back to HQ. We’ll sort out the details in next week’s meeting.

You felt a sinking feeling in your chest, which was quickly replaced by determination as you began to type your response.

-----

You hurried to Loki’s side, panting slightly, making it to the coronation just in time for Brunnhidle to make her entrance.

“You’re late,” he whispered.

“Shh,” you said. “They’re starting.”

-----

After every great coronation comes an even greater feast, and the Asgardians spent the rest of the day revealing and celebrating their new leader.

Surprisingly, you had seen very little of Loki. That wouldn’t last long though, because as the sun dipped below the horizon, your closest friend in New Asgard appeared from the crowd and said nothing as he led you to a private space away from the partygoers.

“I’ve hardly seen you all night,” he said, as soon as the two of you had a moment of relative silence.

“I know,” you laughed softly. “It’s been strange to not be around you.”

Your smile fell and you looked up at him. “Look, Loki, I have some news, and I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about it.”

His expression turned serious and he led you to a small bench, where the both of you sat. He stayed silent, waiting for you to speak.

“I got a message from Mack today. They want me back in America.”

Loki’s entire demeanor changed. “What? You can’t go back. There’s still so much I- so much supervising to be done here.”

“That’s where the part I’m unsure of comes in,” you said. “I talked to Mack, and the specifics still need to be discussed, but if we can get agreement from all parties, he wants to create a new position at S.H.I.E.L.D. I’d be the first permanent Asgardian-Midgardian liaison that S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever had.”

His face broke into a grin and he clasped your hands into his. “That’s wonderful! Why would I have any problems with that?”

“You haven’t always been my biggest fan,” you said, nudging his arm gently.

He was silent for a moment, looking for the words. “Maybe not at first,” he began slowly, looking you directly in your eyes, “but now, I’d argue that you are closer to me than anyone else.”

You suddenly became all too aware of his hands resting on yours, and the closeness of his face to yours. “Loki…”

“I hate to admit it, but after a long talk with Thor, I’ve realized that I’ve grown quite fond of you, Y/N.”

“I guess I’ve grown fond of you too, Your Highness,” you said, smiling softly.

“Oh, Midgardian,” he said, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice as his face drew nearer.

You didn’t remember which of you closed the gap, only that it was the most magical kiss you had ever had.

A/N: Thanks for reading! :)

[tacticaldiary]

Fault

REQUEST:

can you make a scenario that ranpo is being comforted by the S/O where he ends up failing a mission or be too anxious, please?

Pairing: Reader x  Edogawa Ranpo

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Even Master Detectives doubt themselves sometimes. Y/N hates the way Ranpo wilts when he fails a mission, and does everything in her power to bring back her childish, laid-back boyfriend.

"Ranpo..." She sighs, trailing behind him as they walk down the street toward their apartment. "Ranpo!"

He doesn't respond, still striding forward. He wasn't ignoring her, per say...well, he was, but that's not the point! It's nothing she did, eh just...doesn't want to talk about it.

Shaking her head, she quickens her pace and slips in front of him, crossing her arms and standing there, forcing him to stop so he doesn't bump into her.

"Ranpo, listen to me." She says, and though he does stop, his gaze is stubbornly fixed to the floor, glaring at the cracks on the pavement like they had personally done something to offend him.

It was unnerving, seeing her usually childish and laid-back boyfriend so grave and serious. She didn't like it. Taking a step forward, she brings up a hand to gently brush her knuckles against his cheek, a tender gesture.

His gaze harden and his own arm comes up, swatting hers away. His eyes, angry and frustrated meet her, and she has to fight not to take a step backwards.

"No." It's a simple word, but heavy on his tongue, carrying the weight of his guilt.

"It wasn't your fault." She says softly, and he scowls.

"Yeah right."

"It wasn't-"

"It was."

"Ranpo, you didn't-"

"It was!"

"Ranp-"

"It's my fault, alright!" He finally yells, startling her into silence. "Why didn't I see the gun coming? I should've deduced that from that document!" He exclaims, gesturing angrily. "Kunikida wouldn't have gotten shot, if I had figured that out, and the guy wouldn't have gotten away and-and we wouldn't have failed!" The word is tastes acrid, unfamiliar and heavy.

Failure was something Ranpo hated, with his whole being. He was the best detective out there, so how is failure possible? This was stupid. Stupid and unfair and...

He drops his gaze to the ground, gritting his teeth. There's silence, and it's suffocating. He doesn't want to fail. he doesn't want to put his friends and family in danger, he doesn't want that.

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he looks up to meet Y/N's eyes, determined and firm, but also a little sad.

"Kunikida is fine. He'll live." She speaks slowly and clearly, keeping eyes contact. The fear and anger in his eyes hurt her, but she continues on.

"That gun wasn't part of the crime. It was another organisation that decided to attack while we were investigating. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it-"

"It wasn't!" Her firm voice shuts him up. "Nobody blames you, and I'll be damned if I let you blame yourself." His eyes widen at the genuine sincerity in her voice, and he doesn't get a chance to response before her arms wrap around him, pulling him into a fierce hug.

He stands there motionless for a second, before gingerly bringing his arms up and hovering them over her back. His hesitance finally snaps and he wraps them around her, his hand griping the back of her shirt in a death grip, bunching up the fabric, his face buries into the crook of her neck.

She brings up a hand and runs it through his hair soothingly, muttering gentle reassurances. They stand there for a while, until Ranpo sniffles and pulls away. She starts to smile at him, but yelps as she's yanked forward by the front of her shirt into a kiss.

"Thank you." His voice break halfway when he pulls away and leans his forehead onto hers.

"...Always." She smiles back, letting him take the comfort she was offering.

Requests Are Open! Send Em In!

(23/06/2021)

[yoonpobs]

who's the boss | jhs

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

genre: fluff, slight enemies to lovers, boss!hobi, pa!oc

warnings: like one moment of suggestive content, confessing but no real confessions, jimin is your annoying best friend

words: 4, 663

summary: valentine's day with your stupid (hot) boss

“You look miserable.”

Jimin snickers when he walks past your slouched body across your desk, ensuring that you saw the mocking look he gives you when you glare at him.

“Please tell our boss that.” You mutter under your breath, attempting to avoid the mountains of work that sat in front of you.

“You’re his assistant—you out of all people should know that he’s a force to be reckoned with.” Jimin points out, slamming a new pile of folders on your desk.

You gape at him, observing the unforgiving amount of work that now occupies both your desk and time; and Jimin only offers you a half-hearted shrug before patting you on the shoulder.

“Mr Jung wants it by tonight,” Jimin lets you know as he begins to walk off.

The deadline has you snapping your head rapidly to his retreating figure as you quickly stand up to call for him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You exasperate, “Jimin—there’s no way I can get this done by tonight let alone this week!”

Jimin doesn’t even turn around when he shrugs, as if to tell you that it was your problem to deal with.

You growl, helplessly staring at the work that scatters your desk before your eyes narrow to the office next to yours, doors shut tight.

Before you can think twice, blinded by pure anger, you storm towards the secluded room; ignoring the stares from your co-workers, and a few sighs that you can tell is coming from Jungkook knowing that you were going to piss your boss off yet again.

You don’t knock, long past that level of formality with your boss as you slam the door open, eyes narrowed intimidatingly at the unsuspecting victim of your rage, who just looks up from his laptop with a raised brow.

“____, are you already done with—”

“Jung Hoseok.” You hiss, interrupting him as you shut the door behind you, rolling up your sleeves as if that would intimidate the man; fully aware that he towered over you, even in heels.

He slowly brings his laptop to a semi-closed position and leans back into his seat, arms carefully folded across his chest in a way that makes him look intimidating yet commanding.

It was a pity that your boss was such a douche because he was truly one of the most beautiful men that you’ve had the pleasure (or displeasure) of meeting in your entire life. Hoseok had the charm of a man that held himself with confidence and assurance, knowing that he was likely the hotshot of every room he walked into.

However, that also meant that he had a justifiable inflated ego that you were on the receiving end off, purely because you were hired as his personal assistant and not some other poor soul.

“That is my name, yes.”

You stomp towards his desk and slam your hands down onto the expensive wood, making sure your eyes are locked onto his stoic expression.

Momentarily, you see his eyes glance down to your chest where a decent amount of cleavage is likely being displayed to your boss, but it goes as quickly as it comes when he returns his gaze onto your blazing one.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You snap.

He blinks at you, hands clutched together as he leans forward on his elbows, face getting impossibly closer to your own that you have half the mind to put some distance between the two of you to preserve the beating of your heart.

“Is that any way to speak to your boss?” He cocks his head to a side, a teasing smirk dawning on his face.

“Cut the shit,” You hiss, “In what goddamn universe did you think it was justifiable for you to give me a month’s worth of work and expect it to be done by tonight?!”

He sighs, leaning back into his chair and man spreads in a way that you usually would hate, but of course, Hoseok made it look undeniably hot, and inviting.

“Didn’t I hire you because of your work ethic?”

You scoff in disbelief, arms folding across your chest.

“This is not about work ethic, and you know it. You have some secret vendetta against me and I see through your shit.” You accuse.

“Do I, Ms ____?” He says in a voice so low that it makes you stutter in your response.

“You tell me, Mr Jung.” You retort.

He observes your expression for a moment, taking in the way that you were breathing heavily and how your cheeks were a little flushed from your rant. Hoseok smirks at you because even though you were a lot to deal with, and had a tongue sharper than anyone he’s known, you were adorable.

Just like a kitten that was waiting to be tamed.

“Very well then,” He claps his hands together and opens his laptop again.

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for his next set of words. You recognise the slight gleam in your eyes and that causes an unsettling feeling to develop in your stomach.

“Work overtime.” He says simply as if it was the most obvious solution.

You gape at him, baffled at his blunt suggestion.

“What? That’s your solution? To work overtime?” You snap.

“I don’t see a better option knocking at our door’s here.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

You grit your jaw and feel your eye twitch at his indifference, and you think about risking getting reported to HR, or even getting fired just so you could reach over and strangle the hell out of your insufferable boss.

“Give me an extension.” You all but demand.

“No.”

You’re about to leave with your dues until he answers you, and you snap your head to look at him incredulously.

“What do you mean no?” You hiss.

“It’s exactly what it means, Ms ____. I want the documents sorted through and filed by tonight. Even I’m working overtime and I’m the boss.” He smirks, eyes still not straying away from his laptop.

“Hoseok you don’t understand. I can’t.” His name slips out involuntarily, and you almost miss the way a smile teases his lips when you opt for his actual name than the nicknames you’ve resorted to.

“Oh? Did you have plans tonight?” He pries, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He knew. He knew what today was and gave you a shit ton of work.

You clench your jaw and give him a curt nod.

“Yes. I do.”

He hums under his breath, glancing down to type something onto his laptop before shutting it completely.

“Well—cancel them. You have plans with me now.” He says.

You choke on your spit at his calm declaration as you splutter to find a response.

“I can’t just cancel a date—!”

You snap your mouth shut when his eyebrows shoot to his hairline in a mischievous manner as if seeing you flustered was his favourite sight to behold.

“As your boss, I think I call the shots here, don’t I?” He pushes himself off his chair to walk towards you, height and presence imposing on your retreating figure.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You spit when he engulfs your space with his presence.

The navy grey suit he chose to wear today flattered his physique wonderfully, showcasing his lean and long limbs as well as his built. It didn’t help that he styled his hair with it parted by the side, his forehead on full display—as if to mark his territory as the most intimidating (and handsome) person at the office.

“Call me what you wish,” He shrugs, a smirk on his face, “We’ll have a lot of fun tonight, won’t we?”

You’d be lying if you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach.

.

“Mina—tell the blind date you set me up on that I can’t make it tonight,” You sigh, phone between your shoulder and your ear as you type away at your computer.

You hear Mina whine on the other end about how she thought the guy she set you up with was a perfect match for you. Truthfully, you didn’t even want to go on the date in the first place; but Mina said that you needed to get over the hots you felt for your boss even if he was the most infuriating person in every room he’s in.

“You’re not lying to get out of this, right? Do you really need to work overtime?” She whines.

You sigh.

“Do you remember who I work for? Of course I need to work overtime.” You mutter.

“How am I going to tell Jae?” She complains, and you briefly hear a thud on her end; probably signalling the fact that she flopped onto a surface in despair.

You snort and narrow your eyes to get a better view of the details on your spreadsheet, ensuring all facts and figures were aligned before saving it and proceeding to the next set of work you needed to finish.

“You’ll find a way,” You tell her, “I need to go. I have ten more documents to sort through and they’re all due tonight.”

Mina blows a virtual kiss for you and bids you goodbye, saying to kick your boss in the ass for her.

The moment you hang up, you see Jimin and Jungkook walk pass your desk with their bags over their shoulders, stopping by you to offer a sympathetic smile.

“Have fun working overtime ____,” Jungkook says, and it’s sincere enough to make you give him a half-hearted smile.

“Work on sucking your boss’ dick too.” Jimin snickers, mimicking the action inside of his cheek as you glare at him, chuckling a piece of crumpled paper in his direction.

“Jungkook—tell Taehyung I said hi,” You smile sweetly at him, then narrowing your eyes into slits at Jimin, “Jimin, I hope you puke out all the chocolates you’re going to binge on tonight.”

He gasps, hands resting on his chest in mock offence as he waves you goodbye, heading out as you return the gesture with your longest finger.

There the last bit of your co-workers that left the office, and now it was just you—and Hoseok—but he was cooped up in his office, for whatever reason it may be.

You sigh, cracking your knuckles forward as you attempt to race through all the documents that needed to be sorted through as fast as you can so you could go home and binge-watch all the romantic comedies in your watchlist.

The quote time flies sits prettily on the tip of your tongue when you glance at the clock on your table to tell you that it was half an hour till midnight, meaning that you slaved away to work for an additional 6 hours.

You huff, at least thankful that you were finally done.

Even with Hoseok’s words saying that he’d work overtime as well, you were sure he was just in his office relaxing while you did his hefty work. The thought makes you frown as you clean up your workspace, ensuring that it’s in a pristine condition before you head back.

“_____?”

Hoseok’s voice peeks out from his office and you stop your ministrations to turn your head to look at him, a few stray strands of hair falling by the side of your face as you do so.

Hoseok can’t help but appreciate how relaxed you look, a juxtaposition from the usual prim and proper persona you took on during work. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, and a few buttons of your blouse were undone to give yourself some room to breathe.

“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow, beginning to get irritated with the way his eyes unabashedly observe you.

You have the words on your tongue already, preparing to cuss him out with your mouth and your fist if he gave you any more work to do.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks.

You raise an eyebrow, watching his figure lean against the frame of the door.

“No, I haven’t. I was too busy finishing up the documents for you, remember?” You bite, can’t be helping the snark that your tongue releases.

A small twinge of a grin appears on his face as he cocks his head to his office, gesturing you to enter.

“I have some food. Do, join me.” He asks.

You blink at him, hands still clutching the last bit of your belongings as you mull over his proposition. While you and Hoseok worked close and hand in hand in business operations, you managed to have professional boundaries with him (which didn’t include the fact you cussed him out every five minutes). So, for him, the poster image of uptight and professionalism; with the occasional blunder, to invite you for a small meal outside of business?

You try to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster.

“Ah … it’s fine—I’ll probably heat some leftovers up—” You shake your head to deny.

But as you were caught up in a daze, Hoseok had seemed to have made his way to your desk, body positioned in a way that locks you in so that you had no other way to escape.

“Nonsense.” He tuts, grinning at you with his award-winning smile and you find it very hard to find him distasteful when he has the ability to reduce you to mush.

You notice that he mirrors your appearance in the sense that he looks far more casual than he usually does during work hours. He’s abandoned his blazer, and all he’s left in is his dress-shirt that does absolutely nothing in hiding his figure and slacks that just accentuates his waist even more. The fact that he also has his sleeves rolled up makes you more flustered than you’d like.

“It’s late—” You try to make an excuse, but he’s tugging you by your wrist to follow him and you have no objection on your tongue when you’re in his office.

Somehow, you've been in the room a million times, the second person that spends the most time in here besides Hoseok himself, yet tonight feels different.

The context of sharing a small meal with him seems almost illegal as if you were committing a crime.

“When did you even order this?” You mutter, when you realise his desk was already cleaned of all work-related stuff and only left with the brown packaged bags of food.

“Of course you didn’t notice,” He teases, gesturing for you to take a seat on the chair next to him.

You roll your eyes, bowing your head slightly to thank him when he passes you a sandwich, and you’re pleasantly surprised to know that it was your favourite order from a place you frequented during your lunch breaks.

“How did you—?”

“I’m not that much of an asshole to not know your likes and dislikes ____.” He jokes.

You purse your lips, flustered because while you and Hoseok bantered back and forth, and you were definitely tougher on your own boss than you were to your colleagues, you knew deep down it was an act of self-preservation to convince your own heart that keeping him away was safer for you.

“I didn't mean it like that …” You mumble, munching on your food.

Your eyes are too focused on the sandwich that you miss the fond expression Hoseok gives you, opting to just observe small bites that you were taking.

Eventually, you do notice that Hoseok isn’t eating but paying full attention to you, chin resting on his palm as he blatantly stares at you. When your eyes look up to meet his own, you flush and look away immediately, ears burning red under the dim light as you attempt to cover it up with a cough.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

He shrugs.

“I had my dinner hours ago. This is for you.” He gestures to the food, “You know I despise these things. They’re so pretentious.”

You gape at him with an open mouth.

“Then why are you still—” It seems like Hoseok is dead-set on not allowing you to finish most of your sentences tonight when he responds before you can finish.

“I was waiting for you.” The confession knocks the wind out of your chest as you look at him with wide eyes, heart beating faster when he nonchalantly admits that he was cooped up in his office—waiting for you?

“You didn’t have to do that Hoseok …” You mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear bashfully—a habit you only do when you’re embarrassed.

He snorts.

“A thank you would be nice, sweets.” He leans forward, face inches closer to yours as you yelp and leans back into your chair.

The term of endearment doesn’t fall deaf on your ears as you blush even harder. You want to curse at yourself because you’re much stronger than this, you’ve trained for years to not let your feelings show in front of Hoseok because well … he was the CEO and you were his personal assistant.

While there was no strict ban on dating your boss, you had ethics and principles of your own that somehow convinced you that it would’ve been messy. And messy it would be because you worked with him on every single project, communicated information to him and basically was his confidant—purely transactional—so you wouldn’t risk your career just to be with him.

Especially when you didn’t know if he felt the same way.

Even when he looks at you like that.

“I’m waiting …” He sing-songs, grinning at you.

You roll your eyes, looking away when you mumble:

“Thank you.”

He seems satisfied as he leans back into his chair, gesturing you to finish your meal.

The sandwich was delicious, as always, but once you took the last bite you were starting to wonder if Hoseok had really just waited hours, and now to just have you eat in front of him.

“Thank you for the meal, Hoseok.” You say politely.

He eyes you for a second, until his eyes glance to the side of your head—then back at you.

“It’s five minutes before midnight.” He points out.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“… okay?”

“So … aren’t you going to wish me?” He pries.

The cue falls over your head, until you see and feel Hoseok, cage you in your chair.

You let out an eep at the sudden proximity, flushed at the way Hoseok grins at you all suave-like.

“Wish you?” You squeak, “W-What do you mean?”

He sighs, resting his palms on the side of your chair, looking at you with a fond expression that you were sure your eyes were deceiving you with.

“I dunno. Isn’t today a special day?” He teases, and he revels in the fact that you’re turning into a tomato under his scrutiny.

“I-Is it? I didn’t—I didn’t know that …” You gulp.

Hoseok takes the leap of faith and reaches out to pat your head, as you freeze under the touch.

“There were flyaways.” He smirks.

You feel like dying because of how close he is to you, and you know that he won’t let you go unless you say the words he’s tried to pull out from you. So, you swallow your pride, and honestly, gather all the courage you have in you to wish him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hoseok.” You mumble, eyes avoiding his.

He doesn’t do anything for a split second, and you feel like a fool. You’re about to push him away until he moves—shuffling between his drawers to pull out—

“Flowers?” You cock your head to the side when he hands them over to you.

They were a beautiful arrangement, meticulously curated with the hands of someone that wanted perfection. It was very like Hoseok, but also included all of your favourite flowers and colours that you can’t help but imagine how cohesive the two of you would be.

You try to shake out of your delusions because you’re still processing the fact that Hoseok had handed you a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen and received.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, _____.” He smiles, and it lacks the usual mirth that he carries when he’s out to poke at you. This time, his smile is kind, warm—and longing.

“W-What is this for …?” You admire the arrangement, and it feels heavy in your palms. A testament to the effort put in, as well as how expensive it must’ve been.

“For being a great personal assistant,” He says.

It’s like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you when he says those words. You blink up at him, then you scowl—shoving him away from you as you abandon the flowers on the table. Your heart was so hopeful as if you had managed to understand what was going on in Hoseok’s heart—but he reminded you of who you were and the world between the two of you shattered.

“Hey—hey. Where are you going?” Hoseok seems panicked but you don’t pick up on much as you hastily try to leave.

“Home, Hoseok.” You say curtly.

He’s faster than you when he grabs your elbow to spin you around to face him.

“Do you not like it?” He furrows his eyebrows.

You glare at him, and all the irritation in you returns when he genuinely looks clueless.

“No, Hoseok. I fucking love it.” You try to pull away, but he’s stronger than you.

“Then what’s the problem?” He huffs.

You narrow your eyes at him and even though he both makes you want to rip your hair out and makes your heart feel funny—he genuinely looks confused.

“You!” You yell, shoving at his chest as he just looks at you quizzically.

“You’re my problem Jung Hoseok,” You point a firm finger into his chest, “You’re always making me do your work for you and teasing me until I want to rip your hair out—then you do this … whatever this is, with the flowers and the stares you’re giving me and you—and you expect me to be okay?”

He blinks at you.

“You’re so confusing Hoseok! Like God—first, you look at me with those eyes of yours and expect my heart not to flutter? Is that it? Do you just like embarrassing me like this? You stupid son of a motherfucking bitch—!”

He really needed to shut you up, and granted, it wasn’t the best way to do it. But there was something oddly endearing about the way you were yelling his ear off that he needed to just close the distance.

Hoseok grabs you by the waist with a firm hand on your cheek when he leans down to kiss you.

The kiss is explosive, both in pent up frustrations and longing all at once and you’re both confused and relieved when you feel the plush of his lips against your own. You forget what you were saying when he holds you like this—close.

Hoseok looked like a magnificent kisser—you theorised—and your hypothesis was proven with the way he’s gentle yet assertive with the way his body moulds against your own.

You whine when he pulls away, your hands clutching at the front of his dress shirt. Only when you see his flushed cheeks, and swollen lips do you remember what was happening.

“_____—”

You punch him in the stomach.

Hard.

He grunts, doubling over as you glare at him.

“Are you insane?” You shriek.

He wheezes, clutching at his abdomen.

“You could’ve just told me you didn’t like me!” He snaps, shooting you a venomous glare.

Your mouth falls open as you give him one of your own venomous stares.

“Are you stupid?” You throw your hands into the air, “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I was trying to be romantic!” He grits out.

You huff, and you soften for a moment to see him still holding onto his stomach.

You quietly reach out to him, holding him by the elbow like you did something wrong (punching him in the stomach) and look up at him with apologetic eyes.

“Does it really hurt?” You meekly ask.

"No. I'm on the floor because it's comfortable," He deadpans.

You pout as you flush a pretty shade of red.

He’s about to retort when he sees how guilty you look, then he sighs; reaching an arm around your shoulder to bring you into an embrace against his chest.

“It’d hurt a lot more if you were rejecting me.”

You scoff, leaning your cheek against his chest when you feel the movement of his chest with his deep breaths.

“Why couldn’t you ask me out like a normal person?” You complain.

He rolls his eyes.

“You’re not a conventional person to ask out.”

You narrow your eyes at him, and he wants to kiss you again because you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

So he does.

This time, you’re not as shocked, but it’s still as pleasant as when he first kissed you. You lean into his embrace, taking the initiative to run your hands across his shoulders and into his hair.

“We could’ve been doing this way longer if you weren’t such an annoying brat.” He mumbles against your lips.

The moment is broken when he returns to his normal self, but your heart still remains.

“Me? Annoying? You know what’s annoying—the fact that I spent six hours on Valentine’s Day sorting through your stupid documents because you wanted to hold me, hostage, here—”

Hoseok purses his lips as you progress through your rant, but in all honesty, you looked like a little rabbit that was frustrated than anything else, and all he feels in endearment.

He lets you have your moment, though—because he likes you like this—honest, unforgiving and so irrevocably yourself.

“—like, romantic? Please, Hoseok—you have zero romantic bones in your body and I’m pretty sure you’re 100% annoying than human—”

He pouts when you resort to insulting him, and he reaches for your cheeks to squeeze them in his palms so you’d stop.

“Okay enough of that, my feelings are hurt.” He pouts, “But … I’ll let you off the hook cause you’re so cute.”

You glare at him, cheeks still squished together like a chipmunk.

“I hathe eberything avout you.” You say through a muffled breath.

He sighs.

He releases your cheeks and begins packing up the trash, and you’re confused at the way his touch suddenly disappears and disappointed because you weren’t close to him anymore.

“Hobi?” You meekly call out, and he swears his heart stutters at the nickname.

“Can you stop being cute for one second and let me clean up?” He groans, shoving the stray paper bags away into the dustbin below his desk.

You blush even harder, keening under the praise.

You twiddle with your thumbs, awkwardly hovering by his desk as you watch him. You’d try to help, but there was something so utterly domestic and … homey about the way that Hoseok tuts you off when you reach out to pick something up.

Once he’s satisfied (because as annoying as he was, you applauded him for his neatness), he throws his blazer over his shoulder effortlessly, and shuts all the lights off, saying nothing more besides walking to the door.

You eye him curiously, wondering why he hasn’t uttered a single word yet, but as you’re about to open your mouth, he turns around to look at you over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“Are you coming?”

You tilt your head to the side.

“W-Where?”

“With me,” He shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the wooden frame of his door as you feel your heartbeat grow faster at how effortlessly good he looks under the dim light.

“I think I owe you a belated Valentine’s Day celebration, no?”

Oh.

[imekitty]

Prompt: Vlad and Jack get stuck in an elevator together and thanks to security cameras Vlad can't use his powers to leave nor finally kill Jack. Tensions rise thanks to Jack's happy and oblivious attitude causing Vlad to explode at him and spill everything he's bottled up the last 20 years

I can't promise this is good.

-----

Vlad checked his watch as the elevator he was in began its descent. Only three o’clock, still plenty of daylight left for his other errands.

The elevator stopped and opened. Vlad walked out but froze when he caught sight of someone in the lobby, someone huge and tall and wearing an orange jumpsuit.

Shit.

Vlad walked back into the elevator.

“Vladdy! Hey!” yelled Jack behind him.

Vlad pretended not to hear him and pressed the button for the highest floor. Maybe he would just fly out of the building once he lost Jack.

“Hey, hold that for me, V-man!”

Jack was moving quicker in his direction now. Vlad jabbed the “close doors” button and watched the doors glide toward each other.

Jack began running. Vlad watched the doors close, almost, almost—

Jack’s massive gloved hand jammed between the doors. With a grunt, he forcibly pushed one of the doors back, metal scratching against metal. Vlad narrowed his eyes.

The elevator shuddered as Jack stepped inside. Vlad gave him a perfunctory smile.

“That was close,” said Jack. “Almost didn’t make it.”

“How unfortunate that would’ve been,” said Vlad through his teeth.

“Oh, can you press 3 for me, Vladdy?”

Jack beamed at him with that stupid oblivious grin he always wore. Vlad pushed 3 and also 2 for himself. The elevator doors did not close. Vlad pressed the “close doors” button. After another pause, the doors closed with an unpleasant grinding noise.

“So what are you doing here?” Jack held up a packet of papers. “I just need to get some things notarized at the bank here.”

“I’m here for meetings,” said Vlad, trying to sound cheerful.

“Yeah? Mayoral meetings?”

“Oh, I won’t bore you with the details.”

The elevator began moving up.

“Well, Mads and I are both really proud of all the great things you’re doing for our town.”

Jack grinned again. Vlad did not doubt his sincerity.

“So you’re here on your own?” asked Vlad. “Maddie did not join you?”

“No, she asked me to—”

The elevator shook and lurched up a couple feet before jolting to a stop. Vlad felt his balance shift as his legs stumbled. Jack grabbed hold of his arm.

“I got you, V-man. You good?”

Vlad wrenched his arm free and stood tall, straightening his tie. “I’m fine.”

Jack looked around at the walls surrounding them. “The elevator’s stopped.”

“It has indeed,” said Vlad.

Jack pressed a few buttons on the control panel. Nothing responded, no movement. “Definitely stuck.”

“Seems that way.”

“But someone will fix it soon.” Jack nodded. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Vlad looked up at the camera in the corner of the room and sighed. Even if Jack weren’t here, he wouldn’t be able to phase out. Not without finding where the security footage was kept and destroying it.

“I’m thankfully not in a rush. I’ve got plenty of time to get this done.” Jack stretched out his arms. “But what about your meetings? Are you gonna be late?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Vlad shook his head. “No, it’ll be fine.”

“I guess the mayor is allowed to be late for whatever he wants, huh?”

Vlad forced a curt half smile.

“But maybe we can call the front desk and ask if they’re getting someone to fix it.” Jack pulled out his phone and tapped the screen before raising the phone to his ear. “Hi there, we are in your elevator and it seems to be stuck. It’s not going anywhere. Do you have someone to fix it? Yeah? All right, well, we’ll just wait here, then.” Jack ended the call. “They’ve called maintenance. They should have us moving in a jiffy.”

“Good to hear,” said Vlad.

“So.” Jack switched his packet of papers from one arm to the other. “What should we do?”

“Do? What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I said they’d have us moving in a jiffy, but I was exaggerating.”

“Really? Were you now?”

“Yeah! So we’ve got some time to kill. This is a good chance for us to talk!”

“Talk?”

“Yeah!”

Vlad looked from one side of the elevator to the other. “Talk about what?”

“Anything! We don’t really get to talk anymore. I miss our college days, don’t you?”

“Do I?” muttered Vlad.

“Back when we used to goof around, crash frat parties.”

“I think it was you doing most of the goofing around. And we had to crash them because we were never invited.”

“Yeah, and I never understood why. We were so cool!”

“It was probably due to your incessant blathering about ghosts.”

“Ah, yeah.” Jack looked at the ceiling and smiled. “I really miss when we used to stay up late at the university lab. Like when we worked on that proto-portal. Remember that? Weren’t those fun times?”

Vlad shook his head. “No, actually. I don’t miss that at all.”

The two fell quiet for a moment.

“You know.” Jack flicked through the documents in his hands with a thumb. “You never told us what happened exactly.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vlad, weary.

“With the proto-portal. When it zapped you in the face?”

“Oh. That.” Vlad shrugged. “What about it?”

“Well, I mean, what happened with that?”

“It zapped me in the face, like you said. You were there. You saw.”

“Yeah, I know, but what happened after that?” Jack frowned. “Maddie and I never heard from you again. Not until the college reunion a couple years ago.”

“I was a little busy being hospitalized and nearly dying,” said Vlad dully.

“Yeah, we heard,” said Jack. “And we tried to get in touch with you, but we couldn’t find which hospital you were at.”

“I didn’t want anyone to find me.”

“But even us? Even me?”

“Especially you.”

Jack’s frown deepened. “But we were best friends, weren’t we?”

“I might’ve described us that way in the past, yes.”

“What does that mean?”

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“I was really worried about you, Vlad.”

“Worried?” Vlad scoffed. “Really?”

“Of course I was. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You weren’t worried about making sure you put ecto-purifier and not diet soda in the proto-portal’s filtration system,” said Vlad. “You weren’t worried about making sure I was out of the way before turning it on.”

Jack sucked his teeth. “Yeah, I was a little trigger happy, but I was just excited. Weren’t you?”

“I was not excited about getting blasted in the face with soda-infused ectoplasmic energy that burrowed in my skin and tore it up, no.”

“Was it really that bad?”

Vlad folded his arms. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. Well, maybe we can get coffee sometime or meet somewhere more comfortable—”

“No, I mean I don’t want to talk about this with you. Ever.”

“But why—”

“Because it was your fault!”

Jack shrank away from him.

“You were careless and selfish and destroyed my life,” roared Vlad. “I was in horrific pain and everyone who saw me stared at me like I was some freak. And I almost died. I wanted to die sometimes. Couldn’t even look at myself in a mirror.”

Jack tightened his hold on his documents and looked down at the floor.

“You never think before you do anything. You’re reckless and oafish and that hasn’t changed at all.” Vlad thrust his hand toward the elevator door. “Just look at what you did to the elevator!”

Jack looked at the door. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” spat Vlad. “You forced the door open and now it’s broken and we’re stuck in here. Because that’s what you do, you destroy and ruin things for other people.”

“But I didn’t want to miss seeing you.” Jack’s voice had a small whine. “I don’t get to see you enough, Vladdy.”

“Right, of course. You were thinking about yourself again. You broke the elevator because you wanted to see me. Just like you zapped me in the face because you didn’t want to wait any longer to try out the proto-portal.”

“Vladdy, please—”

“Don’t call me that. We’re adults now.” Vlad paused. “Or at least I am.”

He looked up at the camera and pursed his lips. With his arms folded, he clenched his fists, knuckles cracking.

Jack did not speak for some time. Vlad could only hope he would keep shut up until the elevator started working again.

“I am sorry, you know.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. Of course he couldn’t possibly expect Jack to stay quiet for long.

“I really didn’t know that would happen,” said Jack. “I didn’t even see what happened to you until it was too late.”

Vlad scoffed.

“I just thought we were on the brink of something incredible,” said Jack. “And I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Vlad lowered his gaze to the floor.

“We were on the brink of something incredible,” he said softly. “I wanted it as well.”

Jack side-eyed him but Vlad kept his head down.

“And I suppose…” Vlad shrugged. “I know I couldn’t have done it on my own. Not without you. And Maddie. Probably more so without Maddie.”

Jack hummed amusement but said nothing.

“But you were the one who got me into all this,” said Vlad. “Ghosts, I mean.”

Vlad recalled Jack’s nonstop yammering about ghosts that kept him up at night when he really needed to be doing his homework instead. Yammering that at first annoyed him but began intriguing him, challenging what he thought he knew, pulling him into a new direction to explore the supernatural.

And allowing him to meet the first woman in a long time who had actually smiled at him. A woman he would have followed anywhere, into the Ghost Zone and wherever else she wanted to go.

“None of what I have now would’ve happened without you,” said Vlad. “Not that I’m about to thank you for any of it.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me either,” said Jack.

“And I don’t,” said Vlad. He blew out a sharp puff past his lips. “But at least things turned out almost okay for me.”

“Almost?” said Jack. “What isn’t okay for you now? Something I can help with?”

Vlad wondered what Maddie was doing right at that moment. How he wished he could have gotten stuck in this elevator with her instead.

“No,” said Vlad.

The elevator shook and restarted its ascent. Jack grinned up at the ceiling.

“Hey, they fixed it!” he exclaimed.

Vlad also looked up but said nothing.

The elevator doors opened. Vlad had no idea what floor it was but knew he was getting off anyway. He stepped past the threshold.

“Vlad. Hey.” Jack stepped out with him.

“The bank isn’t on this floor,” said Vlad curtly.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jack as the elevator doors closed behind them. “I think I’m gonna take the stairs the rest of the way.”

Vlad raised his brows before huffing and shaking his head. “I have things to do.” He started walking away.

“Vlad.”

Vlad turned back to him. “What is it, Jack?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “You have my number, right? If you ever want to talk about anything. Maybe whatever it is that isn’t okay for you right now.”

Vlad chewed the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms, remembering the failed hits he had put on Jack, how the only thing that kept him from killing Jack in that elevator was a surveillance camera.

“You really still think of me as a friend, don’t you?” said Vlad.

Jack blinked. “Well. Yeah. Don’t you?”

Vlad studied his face for several long seconds before smiling.

“Of course,” said Vlad.

Jack smiled back, looking relieved. Vlad’s facial muscles cramped as he kept up his own smile.

“Please give my best to your lovely wife,” said Vlad. “I really must go now.”

He turned and walked away at a brisk pace, balling a fist against his chest out of Jack’s sight.

[wilteddaisies]

Yours - Chapter Two

Azriel x Female!Reader (acotar)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You are Feysand’s daughter and you’ve just come home from your studies in the Day Court. Azriel needs someone with extensive training in magic in order to complete a mission for the Night Court. You happen to be just what he needs.

Fic Warnings: age gap?, probably cursing, eventual smut, wing kink ;)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, injury, mentions of blood, angst, masturbation

Note: Finally more Azriel! It was surprisingly hard to hold myself back while writing this chapter. I wanted to write the angst and the pining, but in my head I just wanted them to love each other already lol. But don’t worry, that part will come soon ;). It won’t be the only thing coming soon. Hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER TWO

As you gazed at your reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, you realised that you really did look like a mess. Your eyes had dark circles under them and your whole body seemed to sag with exhaustion. You turned the water to practically scalding, waiting a moment for it to heat up before you stripped off your dress and then followed with your undergarments. You stepped into the steaming shower and hissed as the water hit your body. Your muscles sang in thanks to the scalding shower. 

After using your favorite jasmine scented soap, you finished up and stepped out of the shower. You dried off but then quickly realised that you forgot to bring clean clothes into the bathroom with you. Cursing, you wrapped your towel around you and reached for the door knob. Hopefully, Azriel was still passed out and you could just grab the clothes. 

But, when you pushed the door open, you found him sitting upright on the bed. Forgetting your state of undress, you rushed over to him.

“Az, you're awake!” You tried to gently push him back down to the bed. “Lay back down before you strain your back or your wing.” But, he resisted, taking your hands in his instead. He took note of your appearance, his words escaping him for a moment at the sight of your flushed cheeks, damp hair, and bare legs. He tore his eyes away from where the towel was struggling to conceal your breasts and cleared his head.

“Did you do this?” He looked at his nearly healed wing. You nodded. “How. . .” he began, “How long was I out for?” 

You glanced at the clock on your dresser. “Just a few hours.” you shrugged. 

“You managed to almost completely heal my wing in just a few hours?” He looked at you with a peculiar expression on his face. Was that awe? Admiration? Surely not. You looked down, trying to hide your blush and you nodded again.

“I may have learned a thing or two in the Day Court.” you said with a little smirk. But you should be proud, even Helion praised you for your ability to pick up magical techniques so quickly. 

“You certainly did.” That was definitely a new look. Azriel looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time. “Maybe you can fix these hands next.” he says jokingly but also with a sad sincerity. You look at his scarred hands still holding your own. He looks too, as if remembering that he still held them. His brows furrow at them, as if he resents that his rough scars are touching your smooth, unblemished hands and tries to pull them away but you don’t let him, holding on with a gentle firmness. 

“No, Az. Please. Don’t pull away, not from me.” You tried not to be hurt by his actions, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you with his scars but that he was ashamed of them. But, he shouldn’t be ashamed of them. Those were the same hands that fought to protect Prythian in two wars, the same hands that carried you over Velaris to go on adventures in the city while your parents were busy, the same hands that held you steady as you were learning to fly, and they were the hands of the person you loved so deeply with your entire being. You raised his left hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to each and every scar littering the back of his hand, his knuckles, his fingers, and his palm. Then you did the same to his right hand. 

When you looked back up to meet his eyes, you saw that tears were falling from them. Azriel, who never cried, was weeping in front of you. And the sight shattered your heart. Had no one ever shown him this love? How often did he feel loved and secure and appreciated? Not nearly enough, not by a long shot. 

You took his hands and wrapped his arms around your waist. They immediately tightened, drawing you closer. Your breath hitched for a moment, but you leaned in to kiss his cheeks, trying to catch each tear. Your arms snaked around his neck and as you met his eyes once again. But this time, along with adoration, you found smoldering intensity. Your gaze drifted down towards his lips and ever so slowly, you leaned towards them. They seemed so warm and inviting, plump and slightly parted as he was breathing a little heavier. Your eyes drifted shut as your lips finally brushed his. For a moment, you savored them, their softness, their taste. But they had only just touched when he pulled away, gently pushing you away with his hands that were just around your waist. 

As your contact broke, shame coursed through you, you took a few steps back, adjusting your towel. Fuck. It was the wrong thing to do. You must have misread the atmosphere in the room. You opened your eyes but kept them glued to the floor, slightly panting from the moment you just shared. 

“I-” His voice sounded choked and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “We can’t. . . We shouldn’t have-”

“I know,” you interrupted, curt. And there you were, with him still sitting on the edge of the bed and you nearly four feet away. The awkward silence that ensued was unbearable. 

 “I should-”

“You should-”

More awkward silence. . .

He sighed. “I should go.” Azriel stood up and turned towards the door. You looked at him again.

“But your wing-”

“Is practically healed, thanks to you. I’ll be fine. Thank you, truly. I don’t know

what might have happened if you hadn’t been here.”

You blushed at his praise. He looked at you as if he wanted to say more, but then thought better of it. He gave you one last smile and walked out of your room, shutting the door. You slumped down onto your bed and tried to forget his rejection.

You tossed and turned in your sheets, gods damn it you couldn’t fall asleep. After using magic to clean Azriel’s blood from your sheets, you got dressed and practically fell into bed, thinking that the exhaustion of using your magic would pull you under. But no, your pulse was still racing, your skin still burned from his touch, and your core ached every time your thoughts drifted back to the feeling of his lips on yours, of his hands tightening around your waist. You pressed your thighs together hoping to relieve the pressure but it just made you yearn even more for his touch. Your thoughts drifted even further, to the image of his sculpted abs on display, even more defined with the gleam of sweat. You wondered how they would look above you, with his muscled arms on either side of your head while he pounded into your- 

Fuck. You gave in. Your legs spread and your fingers drifted towards your center to find yourself unsurprisingly wet. You moan softly as you imagine your fingers as Azriel’s. You teased your clit, lightly petting it before drawing circles around it. You lightly jolted at the zap of pleasure. Your free hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that escaped you. You slid one finger inside you with ease, then another, hissing at the pleasant stretch. You thought of his eyes, their smoldering hazel seeming so deep you could see into his very soul.

You adjusted the angle of your hand so that your palm pressed against your swollen clit with every movement. You felt a tightening in your stomach, you writhed as your core tightened further, and clamped down on your fingers as you finally fell over the edge. You bite on your hand to keep from crying out in pleasure. Your thoughts are still on him as you come down, your pussy throbbing and legs trembling with the aftershocks. You leave your fingers inside you for a moment more before pulling them out, savoring the feeling of the slight stretch of your walls and how you could feel yourself throbbing around your fingers. 

Fuck, you wish it was him. You feel tears start to well in your eyes and your heart cracks at the realisation that he will never be yours, never love you as you love him. He’s one of your father’s best friends, he’ll never see you as anything other than a child. You know this and yet you still want him, yearn for him, need him. You fall asleep on a damp pillow. 

You wake up the next day with not nearly enough sleep, but you got up anyway at the sound of talking from downstairs. You threw on a robe and left your room to find out what was going on. Still trying to shake off the haze of sleep, you trudged into the dining hall, which had now been turned into a makeshift meeting area. Your mother, father, Mor, Amren, Cassian, and Azriel stood around the mahogany table which was covered with books, maps, and other various papers. You tried to avoid Azriel’s gaze, not that it was difficult, he seemed determined to look at everything else other than you.

“Perhaps it could be sedated with a poisoned arrow,” Mor suggested.

“Tried that,” Az countered, “the thing just knocked the arrows away, as if it was swatting flies, and any arrows that made their mark merely bounced off of its hide.”

“Shit,” Feyre huffed. She was the first to notice your quiet entrance. “Sweetheart, what are you doing? Go back to bed, you must be exhausted from using so much magic.” She walked over to where you stood at the entrance of the dining hall and embraced you. You leaned in to her comforting touch, but as much as you wanted to rest, you knew you couldn’t until you figured out what to do about Azriel’s mission. 

“I can’t, mom. There’s work to be done.” You gently escaped her hold to peer over the documents on the table. Maps, more maps, a blueprint of the castle’s underground chambers, and was that-

“A wyvern,” Cassian answered your unspoken question. The beast in the ancient drawings looked ferocious. That was the thing that Azriel had tried to bypass in order to access the weapon? How had he even managed to fly or winnow home? 

“We just have to find a way to get around the bloody thing,” Amren huffed in annoyance. “It’s fast, and strong. Even against a fae. Maybe we could get Helion to brew us an airborne potion or maybe come up with a weapon that can be used against it. But he’s dealing with trouble in his own court at the moment, it could take weeks to even-”

“Let me go.” The silence was instantaneous. All eyes snapped to you. “I can use my magic to subdue it. Or I could try to talk to it.” The wariness in their eyes turned to confusion. 

“Huh?” The confused sound came from Cassian this time. “Did I hear that wrong or did you say you could talk to it.”

You smiled, “Being a daemati is good for reading more minds than just those of the fae and humans.” Everyone looked to Rhys, who thought about it for a moment. 

He finally shrugged, “I guess I never cared enough to try. But, in that case, I’ll just go with Azriel instead.”

“Dad, no-” But your mother already beat you to it. 

“Oh come on, Rhys. You were doing things much more dangerous than fighting wyverns at her age.” She took his hand and pleaded to him with those gorgeous blue eyes that you inherited, batting her eyelashes, as if it would help convince him. It would. “We had our epic adventure. Maybe it’s time for our daughter to have one of her own.” 

He looked like he was going to argue, but then he looked at you, the spitting image of your mother with a temper to match, and with his own midnight black hair. He looked at you and saw the strength that you inherited from both of them. It was his duty as a father to protect you from harm, but it was also his duty to help you grow, whether it be as a woman, a fae, or a warrior. He finally sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. But,” he turned to Azriel with a glare icy enough to rival Azriel’s own signature glower, “you bring her back in one piece. Or I will feed you to the wyvern myself. Or worse, I’ll hand you over to Feyre.” Your mothers face broke into a wicked grin and you could see there was some truth in his words. 

You squealed and hugged your father, then your mother. And then you looked to Azriel, who had been ignoring you the entire time, but finally looked up to meet your gaze. 

And with just a touch of a mischievous glint in his eyes he said, “Let’s go on an adventure.”

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading and for the notes on the last part! I am SO FUCKING excited for this next chapter, I absolutely loved writing it. If you wanna to be added to the taglist for this fic, you can leave comment below :)

I do not consent for my work to be reposted or translated on tumblr or any other site, but reblogs are always welcome!

Taglist:  @moonchild-cf​ @pansexual-booknerd​ @huffypuffyme @tinkymae​  @peneflop​  @myfuckingacademia

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 5

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5: Blue blood

(see chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: everything should be easier from now on, right?

warnings:  language, alcohol mention, 18+

author’s note: I know part 5 was supposed to be a finale. 

It’s not.

This is just where the story took me, and I think splitting it this way is going to pay out in the end.

song for this chapter: Laurel - Blue Blood

Anyway, enjoy! And let me know what you think, please?

-----

You stared at your boss, trying to wrap your mind around everything you’d just heard.

“Does that technically make me--?

“An assistant squad leader, yes,” said The Protagonist. “At least for the time being.“

He didn’t need to say anything else - you were well aware he meant it could go both ways from now on.

You nodded, glancing to your left at Neil.

“As long as it’s not an assistant to the squad leader...” you said and shrugged, trying to keep a straight face while Neil snorted loudly at your comment. You exchanged quick looks and you finally allowed a small smile to appear on your lips. It felt good to catch him off guard for once, and him getting a reference was a nice surprise as well.

“What’s so funny?” the boss asked, eyeing you warily.

Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Neil collected himself enough to let out a long musing sigh.

“Ah, one could dream.”

You let out an exasperated huff and kicked him in the ankle, stifling a giggle. Fucking hell, you didn’t know what had gotten into you. Or him, for that matter, almost choking with laughter at your reaction.

TP must have been thinking the same because his eyes darted between both of you from under a raised brow. He cleared his throat.

“Are you two done?” he asked, and something in his tone made you straighten in your seats instantly as if you were two misbehaving kids in the principal’s office. “I need the first drafts from you by tomorrow noon.”

“Of course. Thank you, sir,” you said, internally cursing at yourself for losing your cool.

Your boss shook his head slowly and you could swear his usual polite expression cracked for a split second, revealing a glimpse of a smug smile hiding in a corner of his lips.

“Now go, before I change my mind.”

You grabbed the documents from the desk and mumbled a quick goodbye on your way out.

Neil followed you closely, his sparkling eyes showing no remorse for what had just happened.

“Would be easier if you still despised me, wouldn’t it,” he teased as he closed the door behind you.

You groaned and smacked his arm with the papers.

“What makes you think that I don’t?”

“Oh please,” he let out a throaty chuckle and sent you a roguish smile. The way he seemed to be almost obnoxiously confident in how this combo worked on you drove you mad every time. Not that he was wrong, it simply didn’t help the case he was trying to make. “Meet me at my place later?”

You gaped at him. “Can’t we use the conference room?” you asked and started walking down the empty corridor, hoping that being on the move would help your clearly malfunctioning mind.

Neil matched your pace. “It’s gonna take hours and the chairs there are far from comfortable.”

“Who would’ve thought you have such a sensitive ass,” you snickered and narrowed your eyes. “Admit it, you’re just looking for an excuse to lure me to bed.”

You stopped by the elevators. Neil hummed as he reached out to press a button to call one to your floor.

He leaned your way slightly and lowered his voice. “I think we’ve already established that we don’t really need a bed for that.”

...fair point. 

You swallowed with effort, turning his way. He was looking at you with an amused expression on his face, but you saw the way his gaze darkened under your stare. You could be annoyed with him being inappropriate all you wanted, but you had to admit - it was kind of reassuring how some things stayed the same after the recent events.

“Promise to behave?”

Neil raised a brow and a corner of his lips twitched.

“Only if you do.”

“Deal,” you said and walked into the elevator, nodding in a greeting to a couple of agents inside.

As the door closed with a small hiss, you caught a playful twinkle in the blue eyes.

“And only till we finish preparing that draft.”

His voice could be the prime example of corporate professionalism, and that one out-of-context line was obviously not enough to send an elbow to his ribs without raising suspicious looks from your colleagues.

...but you did it anyway.

---------

The time in Neil’s apartment could be counted by the emptied cups of coffee, the amount of scratched ideas, or the number of times you caught each other glancing at one another. And when you finally got close to cracking the case of planning that temporal pincer movement, it was already late in the evening, and you were glad you’d spent the last couple of hours on a comfy sofa instead of one of those god awful chairs in the conference room.

Neil kept his promise and was surprisingly easy to work with. His take on things, not yet tainted by years in the field, provided many fresh ideas, while your experience allowed you to catch and assess any potential risks on the fly. The way he paid attention to your words and cared about your feedback made you feel heard and appreciated, and that was something you weren’t quite used to. You didn’t have too much time to muse over it though, because there were still some parts of the plan you had to go through and the exhaustion was slowly catching up to you, making you less and less productive with every passing minute.

You crumbled a piece of paper in your fist and groaned, tossing it on top of a small pile of paper balls on the floor. As you moved your hand to your face to pinch the bridge of your nose, you noticed red and blue smudges from permanent markers covering your palm. Fucking hell. Choosing to rest your forehead on your knuckles instead, you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly, gathering your thoughts. You heard Neil standing up and moving to the kitchen. Seems like he needed a break as well.

A moment of silence was abruptly interrupted by the clanking of glassware. You raised your head and stretched your arms, only then realizing how stiff you felt after so many hours curled in one spot. Just as you got up, Neil came back with two glasses of what seemed to be a whiskey.

“Drinks?” you asked, puzzled. Anything with caffeine would be more fitting with your current state, especially since you were not done with the work yet.

Neil smiled as he handed you the glass.

“Thought we could take five minutes off to celebrate.” Seeing your perplexed face, he beamed a bit wider. “...your promotion?”

You laughed at your own confusion. Right. Shrugging lightly, you stirred your glass.

“Oh, it only means I got stuck with you, and I don’t know if it’s a thing to celebrate,” you said, holding back a mischievous grin.

Neil rolled his eyes and let out an amused sigh. “Drown your sorrows then.”

“That I can do,” you arched a brow and chuckled. “Cheers!”

The glasses clinked and you met Neil’s glance with something new shining from under the usual playfulness. He noticed the curiosity in your stare and smirked as he took a sip of his drink, sitting down on a sofa.

“You know what else we could use those five minutes for?” he asked casually, leaning back on the pillows with a roguish smile you knew too well.

You looked him up and down slowly, hoping the whiskey would help with the sudden dryness inside your mouth. That slightly unbuttoned navy shirt with rolled-up sleeves and the way he spread his legs made you weak. You mustered all the self control your tired brain could scramble before speaking again, the lit-up eyes being any indication of the effect he had on you.

“It’s closer to four now, I’m afraid.”

Neil put down his glass on a coffee table and knitted his brows together, pretending to run a short calculation in his mind.

“Ample.”

You downed your drink and teased, “Is it now?” as you placed the empty glass next to his.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said and reached out for your hand, pulling you to him before you could say anything else. As you fell on him with a quiet yelp, Neil wrapped one arm around your waist, securing you on his lap.

A faint protest about the draft not being finished got stuck in your throat. Captivated by the look in his eyes, it dawned on you that it was the first time you were so close, now without the rage boiling in your veins, without the danger of someone walking in on you; just you and him, focused on each other, too awestruck to make the next move.

You brushed a wild strand from his forehead and your fingers traveled further through his hair. Neil’s forehead creased, his jaw went slack and he searched your gaze, trying to figure out your intentions. As your eyes wandered around his features, your fingertips followed them unhurriedly. Grazing lightly against the eyebrows, gliding over the cheekbones, trailing along the sharp jawline till his breath hitched and his lips parted ever so slightly. You noticed how longing his stare became and you smiled softly. Was he always so gorgeous?

Leaning in and cupping his face in your hands, you could feel him tense for a split second, but as soon as you pressed your forehead to his, the arm wrapped around your waist pulled you closer to him and Neil exhaled slowly. He lifted his hand from your lap and his long fingers combed your hair and slid down, rubbing your neck gently.

You closed your eyes and let out a small sigh, relaxing under his touch, under the heat of his body. Breathing in the scent of his cologne, both arousing and grounding at the same time. Tilting your head, you nuzzled his nose and you could feel his brows furrowing as he followed your motion, stroking your nose up and down slowly. Tenderly. Brushing his lips with your fingertips, you lost yourself in this moment. In the warmth spreading through you. In the way your breaths intertwined.

Your hands traced back to his jaw and you felt it clenching in response.

Neil’s hand left your neck and you opened your eyes, only to notice his conflicted expression. And a glimpse of sadness tainting the blue irises. Seeing the confused look on your face, he palmed over your hand on his cheek, pulling it away hesitantly.

“We should get back to work,” he said, avoiding your gaze, his voice raspy and hollow.

The heart sank in your chest as you sprung from his lap. Of course.

“Yeah, right, sure,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling lightheaded, with the cold sweat slowly drenching the back of your shirt and the pulse pounding heavily in your ears.

You were such an idiot. Should have known better. You were never gonna learn, huh?

Gritting your teeth, you grabbed the markers and a fresh stack of papers and sat down on the floor at the far end of the coffee table, trying to ignore the enigmatic stare being sent your way.

Neil let out a deep sigh and reached out for his unfinished drink. As he put down the empty glass, he shook his head, looking somewhat defeated.

You cleared your throat and resumed where you'd left off, determined to get over the last details of the operation as soon as possible. Luckily, focusing on the work numbed down the crippling embarrassment. At least for the time being.

And although the initial flow was nowhere to be found, the plan was ready and bulletproof in a little over an hour. The presentation was finished. And so were you. Or at least that’s how you felt, collecting various blueprints and schematics covering most of the flat areas within your reach. 

You looked around, checking one last time if everything was ready to submit.

“Guess that’s it,” you said and started gathering your things, getting ready to leave. 

Neil followed you to the hall and watched as you put on the coat.

“Listen, I...” 

Holding your breath, you turned his way. Waiting for his next words.

Meanwhile, he struggled to find them, and a frustrated frown clouded his features.

“...let me at least call you a cab?”

The void in your chest grew an inch. Right.

“I’ll take a walk.” Your mouth contorted in a weak attempt to smile. “See you tomorrow, blondie,” you said dryly and walked out of the apartment, nauseous and desperate to get some fresh air.

How silly of you to think that it could be about anything other than sex. 

That’s what you get for being willing to open up.

Yet another painful reminder that you weren’t a relationship material. 

You exhaled shakily as your legs carried you to the only place able to stop your mind from spiraling.

Aim and pull the trigger. 

Repeat.

Simple.

(next chapter->)