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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years ago

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 12

First

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim had exactly zero idea what was going on.

Marinette had disappeared into the shower so he’d figured that, hey, work was over and he was 90% sure it was the day she usually shaved (something he knew because every time she shaved she excitedly asked him to touch her leg because it was smooth) so he had time to kill…

He walked over to her jewelry box.

He’d already bugged all of the new jewelry he had bought her but her old stuff was perfectly intact and he kind of wanted more insurance. Sure, they lived together now so it was unlikely she would have much reason to leave without him, but he was known for his millions of plans and contingencies and he wasn’t about to mess up when it was someone he cared about.

So, he went to work on the first necklace he grabbed. It had a tiny cat with green emeralds for eyes.

He looked at the tiny black pupils that the cat had. He pulled a tiny pick out of his pocket and carefully started carving a circle in it for the bug.

And then a bug-shaped god came flying out of the door for something.

There were a few beats as Tim and Tikki stared at each other.

Tikki broke it with a loud groan.

He watched her float past him for the towel hung on Marinette’s bedpost and then go back inside.

Shit.

He darted towards the bathroom, only to pause at the door. He really didn’t want to burst in while Marinette was probably naked, that was a huge breach of privacy, but he also didn’t want Tikki to tell him about all the bugs he was planting! Shit! He bit his lip, considering.

“Here’s your towel, Marinette,” Tikki said with a sharp edge to her tone.

“... are you mad?”

“Not at you. Where are the cookies you baked last night?”

“Uh, the fridge --?”

“Thank you.”

Why hadn’t she told her? Tim wasn’t complaining, of course, but he was a little confused. She was clearly mad about it and he doubted that Marinette had made some rule that said ‘you can’t tell me about people bugging me’ because that was oddly specific and not a very good idea… so… what?

He didn’t know. He was just going to thank the god of luck -- he was pretty sure that was Tikki -- and continue what he was doing.

Marinette didn’t have to struggle to keep everyone inside the first night. She liked that. More time to plan.

But how did she get herself let out, you may ask?

Remember how Tim had said that all-hands-on-deck situations are the only exceptions to the Stay Inside While Injured Rule? Well, guess what had happened.

Arkham had had a huge breakout and Marinette wasn’t going to complain… even if her kwami might be a little disappointed in how happy she was about it.

She was even happier when she’d found out that one of the people that had broken out was Scarecrow. She’d been meaning to tell him about her guesses about his brownie recipe for a while and she hadn’t really had a chance to do it when she was talking to him through a phone with a thick glass between them.

Batman -- Bruce? -- didn’t need to know that they’d broken into a bakery for the night to test out their theories before she had taken him back to Arkham.

He’d thank them when he got the brownies (the missing ingredient was Mexican cinnamon!). Or, at least, she hoped he would.

Tim had to say… Marinette's plan to get everyone in her house was working.

He could warn his siblings but, honestly, he found it kind of funny.

He was surprised to see Jason show up first. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Didn’t know you were in town, Flamebird.”

Jason did an exaggerated eye roll that Tim swore he could see despite the domino. “Marinette said she had something she wanted to show me.”

And she did. She walked over and dropped the Harry Potter books onto the window ledge beside him. “This is terrible and I hate you for making me read them.”

“It gets better later on --.”

“I read two books. That’s six hundred pages. If you can’t get your shit together in six hundred fucking pages then you don’t deserve my time.”

He scoffed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Oh yeah? Read it. It’s been years for you, right? Get to book three and tell me it’s good.”

Jason scowled and grabbed the books, taking a seat in the armchair.

Tim grinned and rested an arm around his girlfriend. “You don’t actually hate Harry Potter, do you?”

“Only the book version.”

He frowned. “I think we need to break up.”

“Nope. Not allowed to break up with me.”

“Oh, well, if I’m not allowed then I guess I won’t,” he said, leaning down to press a tiny kiss to her lips.

There was a groan from the window and they both rolled their eyes, turning to look at Damian.

“Why must you sully my good mood so early on with your disgusting displays of affection?”

“It’s our apartment, you just so happen to be here,” said Tim, glaring at his brother. “We can do what we want.”

Marinette, bravely, stepped between the two of them with a bright smile. “Now, boys, it’s not the time.”

“It is not the time for your libido, and yet...” argued Damian.

“Please, that isn’t even close to libi --,” Tim started, only to get elbowed in the stomach.

She gave him a look that told him to let her handle it and, while he didn’t think that was a good idea, he held up his hands in surrender.

“Robin, it’s unbecoming of you to argue with everyone you meet,” she chided lightly.

… did she speak Damian or something? Because Damian actually looked a little reprimanded at that and Tim needed to learn her ways.

Then, she leaned down with a grin. He could see her hands start to rest on her knees but she thought better of it at the last second. “I got some new stuff from the pet store and I wanted to know if you wanted to help test them out on Vanelope.”

Damian narrowed his eyes slightly. “What kinds of new things?”

“A bunch of cat toys.”

“... I suppose I can test them out for you.”

“I mean, I said you could help --,” she started, but Damian was already heading towards Vanelope without her.

Tim looked over at his girlfriend. She didn’t seem all that put out by this.

“You really had something planned out for everyone?”

She smirked and took a seat on the windowsill. “Yep. It should take Flamebird about two days to finish the first two books -- assuming he can even get through them that quickly -- and Robin is sure to be very thorough in his testing of all the cat toys.”

“Oh? And what’s your plan for everyone else?”

She shrugged just slightly. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

When Dick appeared she set him up with Beat Saber, saying that she was curious about why the VR glasses gave her a headache and wanted to see if he had the same problem. Tim knew the problem was that they were made for men and therefore sometimes had negative side effects for women, but he bit his lip before he could offer to get a set custom-made for her in favor of watching Dick select the poppiest pop song in existence and instantly get addicted to the game.

Tim raised his eyebrows slightly when Steph appeared, textbook in hand.

“How did you know everyone would show up?” He asked once Marinette had set her up with a particularly long and difficult worksheet to make sure she got the lesson.

“Well, Spoiler shows up every Saturday night for tutoring, Robin comes by every other day or more and he didn’t stop by last night, Nightwing pops by most weekends, and I called Flamebird over myself… speaking of which…” She pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons. “Right, Signal said he’ll be here in ten minutes seven minutes ago… so, he’s almost here.”

Tim grinned. “You forgot Cass.”

“She only ever really shows up to get away from all of you guys so, with everyone here, she’d have no reason to come over.” Her face split into a sheepish grin. “Also, she’d see through me pretty quickly.”

“Don’t you want B to have no help?”

She shrugged. “It should be a light night since almost everyone important is in Arkham right now but that doesn’t mean that the two of them can deal with all of Gotham’s petty crime on their own. I give them until three or four before they crack.”

“... you might be a little scary.”

“You don’t last long as a vigilante if you’re not at least a little smart,” she chirped. “I just choose to turn my brain off most of the time.”

He smiled. “Oh? And the exception is what? Making you stay inside?”

She waved him off. “Kind of. It’s more that I only put effort into making sure I’ll never be bored. What’s the point of thinking about anything else? All that does is make you sad.”

Well that didn’t sound healthy, now did it? Tim was pretty sure that was just repression but, honestly, he had no clue. His family famously did not use therapists.

Before he could figure out how to address that there was a knock on the door.

Marinette grinned and opened it to reveal Duke, who was holding a computer.

Duke looked around the apartment, raising his eyebrows at all the people there. “Uh… should I ask?”

“I’m spiting Bruce.”

“Wild. Whatever. Ready for GBBS?”

“Sure. Tim, you gonna watch it with us?”

He hesitated. Steph had been sending him pleading looks since she had gotten her worksheet and he felt kind of bad for her… but then Duke and Marinette sat on the couch and she rested her head on his shoulder lazily to get a better view of the computer and Tim figured that Steph was smart enough to do the worksheet on her own if she really tried.

He took a seat beside her and smiled a little when she switched to lean against him instead.

“So, who’s your favorite person for the season?” He asked.

She thought for a minute before shrugging. “The guy that always wins but keeps being anxious about his bakes. Forgot his name, though.”

“Rahul?!” said Duke.

“Sure.”

Duke frowned. “I’m not sure whether to be happy you like at least one contestant, be proud it’s Rahul, or be annoyed you didn’t remember his name.”

“Character development takes time,” said Tim wisely.

Marinette scoffed a little. “Just put on the damn show. I’m tired of listening to you assholes talk.”

Duke grinned. “Fine. Fine.”

Time passed as the three of them watched the show.

Other family members slowly made their way over one by one. Damian brought the cat with him. Jason came over to give his brain a break after all the reading he had done (and then, when Marinette pointed out that you never take breaks while reading good books, had gone straight back to Harry Potter). Steph decided she didn’t want to pass her class and came to lay across the top of the couch. Dick eventually got tired and rested his body after the intense game that is Beat Saber.

… B released her at almost exactly three thirty. They ignored their comms in favor of continuing to watch the season finale.

Marinette bit her lip anxiously as she preemptively turned off the notifications on her phone. Tim did the same.

They typed up matching tweets about how they were moving in with their partners, tagged each other...

Their fingers hovered over the tweet buttons.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure one of my siblings will do something stupid in a few days and the media will leave us alone,” said Tim.

She smiled awkwardly. “That isn’t what I’m worried about.”

He frowned just a little and slipped his arm around her. “Well, can I help with whatever it is?”

She hesitated. It would be better to warn him, she supposed. “Not really. You’re going to get the ‘shovel talk’ --.”

“My dad is Batman, Bean, I’ll live.”

“-- by the person who currently controls the embodiment of chaos and destruction.”

His face paled a little (which is dangerous, considering he was already pale enough). “Does Chat Noir not know we’re dating yet?”

“Nope.”

“... so he’s going to find out through the media?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

She nodded her agreement, curling into his side and glaring at the phone.

Adrien was going to be pissed. Especially since he was going to learn through the media. Sure, that was the intention, she was hoping that Tim would be left more or less alone because her friend would be too busy being hurt about not being told to focus on his anger at her boyfriend… but, yikes, she didn’t really want to deal with that just yet.

Also, she thought with a wince, Adrien was going to be even angrier when he figured out that she hadn’t exactly given up, as he called it, ‘stalking’ the people she was interested in. Marinette was pretty sure that Tim already knew about some of it but she wasn’t completely sure and, just in case, she wanted to keep it a secret for a while… a few years, at least, and she wanted to be the one to tell him because she was sure that Adrien would be a lot harsher about it than she would. He already called it ‘stalking’ when it was clearly different, she didn’t want to know what he would say if she let him talk about it in more depth.

Unfortunately, though, Adrien wasn’t stupid. He’d eventually catch on. The longer they dated without him knowing the guiltier he would assume she was.

She sighed and took his face in her hands. “I’m leaving it up to you. I’m not sure. I’m leaning towards being public but...”

He bit his lip as he considered it. She fought the urge to stretch his face until he let go.

He smiled hesitantly. “Well, I’ve lived long enough, I think.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll summon a lucky charm for you,” she half-joked.

He gave a puff of laughter that wasn’t quite real and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, Bean, but I doubt that’ll be necessary. This is Gotham, no one dies here.”

“We don’t know how long that’ll take, though,” she said with a pout. “I’d prefer to have you back as soon as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll always have my siblings.”

“But I want you,” she huffed. “You’re my favorite.”

She felt his cheeks warm beneath her hands.

“I’m your second favorite,” he reminded her. “Cass.”

She snickered. “True. You’re my favorite until Cass accepts my proposal.”

“Hm. I’ll have to enforce the bro code to make sure that never happens.”

“Oh no! I guess I’ll be stuck with you forever, then. What a shame!”

He smiled brightly. Sometimes she lamented the fact that he didn’t give a lot of genuine smiles. The grins and smirks were nice, of course, but she liked to watch the way he would duck his head slightly to try and cover his face with his bangs. Still, in the privacy of her own head, she had to admit that the fact she could get such a smile out of him when few others could made her heart rate spike. He smiled for her. Who wouldn’t be flattered by that?

She pulled the smile that she loved so much down for a kiss.

The first time they stepped out the door as an official couple they were hounded by reporters.

Tim wanted to ask how they knew where they lived. He settled for asking them to blur the area around them.

It was more than a little annoying to be harassed on your way to the grocery store. They had just wanted eggs, milk (Marinette kept leaving it out for some strange reason), some cat food, and enough miscellaneous snacks to keep Cass occupied. They did not want cameras shoved in their faces.

But years of being public figures had trained them to keep pleasant smiles on their faces and to answer questions with as little information as possible.

Finally, though, they made it inside and a manager kicked out the reporters.

Marinette let her shoulders slump a little beneath his arm and Tim flexed the muscles in his face before it could get stuck in that awkward half-smile forever.

He squeezed her a little. “You alright?”

She shrugged as much as she could without displacing his arm. “Yeah. Just… hate reporters.”

He nodded his understanding. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Want to buy some Oreos while we’re here?”

Her face lit up. “Can we?”

“I’m rich. Of course we can.”

And, so, they did. He made a mental note to start buying oreos in bulk. All the flavors, just in case she ever got sick of the normal version.

They glanced out the door and, though they couldn’t see the paparazzi waiting just outside, they were sure that they would be back soon. They ducked through back alleys to try and get away.

Only to stop in the middle of a dark alley at the high-pitched cry of: “Give me your money or else!”

Tim sighed and set down the cat food to hand over everything in his pockets. A glance back at Marinette confirmed she was doing the same --.

And then he stopped short. He turned more fully to look at their mugger and then started to laugh.

“I’ll… I’ll kill you!” Said the mugger, who was just a kid. They might not have even hit puberty yet.

“With a pocketknife?” Tim said.

Marinette turned around as well at that and a grin spread across her face. “Oh my gods, that’s so lame.”

“It’s Gotham, you gotta do better than that,” said Tim. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a butterfly knife. He handed it over. “Here, have this, at least. Christ, that’s terrible.”

The kid didn’t seem to know what to do about the fact that his would-be victims were laughing at her and apparently helping her mug people.

Marinette handed over everything except for the necklace Tim had given her. “Here, kid. And get a mask or something to hide your face, it’s not nearly dark enough in here for you to just go with a hood.”

“Oh, and here’s my address,” added Tim. He typed it into his phone -- damn, he should have brought more than a pager -- and then handed it over. “We always have a lot of extra food, so if you ever need it just knock on the window.”

“... thanks?” said their now adoptive kid (they didn’t make the rules, this kid was theirs now).

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Can we go now? One of his siblings is coming over soon and he will start our show without us.”

“Uh… sure?”

Marinette sat on the kitchen island, squinting at the cast on her arm. Was it worth taking off for the sake of doing work? Maybe --.

Tim’s voice crackled through her ear and she perked up a little at the sound, smiling. He was talking, greeting guests it seemed. Right. He had a meeting today, Janet had mentioned it earlier that morning.

Marinette sighed a little at the reminder that, while she might not care about her broken arm, her boyfriend did. Yeah. Tim would probably be stressed if she took off her cast before the doctor said it was okay. She settled to lay back on the counter, head resting on her good arm, and stare at the ceiling as she listened to his voice...

Only to dart up when she felt a tap on her arm.

She looked over, eyes blown wide, and only relaxed slightly when she realized she recognized the person.

Adrien stood over her, arms crossed over his chest despite the glasses/miraculous he had hooked to the collar of his shirt, but he apparently wasn’t angry enough to not accept the usual kisses on both cheeks that Parisians did as greeting.

He said something that she couldn’t really understand with the part of her brain still concentrated on Tim explaining some sort of chart.

She sighed and reached a hand to her ear to turn off the bug. “Hey, can you repeat that?”

He didn’t. Instead he squinted at her ear suspiciously. “Does your ear hurt?”

“... no?” She said slowly, a little confused.

“Whatcha listening to?”

She paled. Shit. He was going to be pissed (or, at least, more pissed than he already was) if he found out that her supposed ‘stalking’ was getting worse. She needed an excuse.

“Uh, that one rapper, uh --.”

“BS. You don’t listen to rappers.”

He held a hand out and, reluctantly, she handed it over to him. She might as well get her murder over with.

He set it in his ear and, after a few attempts, turned it on. His face soured even more, somehow.

“This better not be who I think it is.”

She gave a tentative half-smile.

That was all the answer he needed. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and started dragging her through the streets.

No one helped. Not that she expected them to, it was Gotham, but it was still a little hurtful.

Adrien stopped suddenly after a few minutes of walking.

“... wait… where’s his office?”

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years ago

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Take My Hand (Part One)

Summary: a secret relationship was enough, being with rafael was enough. and it was. until it wasn’t (one of three parts)

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader (more in next parts)

Word Count: 3,417

Song: I'm begging for you to take my hand / Wreck my plans, that's my man (willow by taylor swift)

Warnings: T, implied sex, some sexual situations (but just kissing and touching, nothing explicit), fwb relationship essentially, rafael’s commitment issues,

A/N: thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera and @qvid-pro-qvo for letting me bounce ideas off and not annoy you (hopefully) with my incessant obsession with this mini-series.

“Barba, it’s time to go home,” the illustrious A.D.A. didn’t bother to look up from your brief he was revising, the margins bloodied with red ink and edits, as you watched, pressed against his doorframe, “you can tear my work to shreds tomorrow.”

“Since when did you become my keeper?” he murmurs, his brow wrinkled much like the carpet that lined his floor —- and the rest of his office wasn’t much better — dimmed and dark much like the bags under his eyes, takeout containers from Forlini’s stacked in his trash can, printed briefs and case files stacked like a wall around the perimeter of his desk, some even stacked up on the larger conference table, a few scattered on the floor.

“Oh it was in the job description,” you step forward, picking up the files that had jumped ship, likely to escape your boss, “assistant district attorney needed to assure SVU’s lead ADA is not found buried in an avalanche of cases that decided to take their revenge.”

He snorts, still flipping pages through the memo, his tie loosened around his neck, sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms, “I didn’t know you were a comedian before law school,”

And for once you’re grateful that he doesn’t bother to look up — it means he doesn’t notice your eyes lingering on his forearms, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Barba,”

And you expect a biting response, a quick retort, but instead you get honest reply, “Well I’d like to, if you’d let me,” you blink a moment, as he glances up for a moment, his look nearly earnest, “you know you do have a habit of keeping people at arm’s length.”

“This isn’t about me,” and he smiles, looking back down at his work.

“And the deflection begins,” you huff, scowling at him, though he still paid no mind.

“Well my office doesn’t look like the aftermath of a legal aid implosion, and I’ve actually been sleeping 6 hours a night, can you say the same?”

He frowns, lips pursed, “I can take care of myself,”

“Clearly,” you crossed your arms, straightening the rug with the heel of your shoe, rounding his desk, “this case was impossible today, it will be impossible tomorrow.”

“Well maybe if I worked a little harder it wouldn’t be so impossible, maybe we’d even get a little justice,” he sighs, lips pressed to the knuckles of his fist.

You tilt your head, “You know this system is not always getting justice — sometimes it’s just about closure, and that’s all we can do sometimes.”

“I want to do more— I—” he breaks off, knuckles white against clutching his pen, “I knew the system was full of grays, I know but—”

“It’s different when it’s SVU, I know, but,” your fingers reach for his tentatively, easing the pen from his fingers, “you can only do what the system lets you — it’s not our job to legislate — it’s our jobs to advocate, to let the people’s voice be heard in court. But you can’t do that if you work yourself right into the ground.”

“I know, I just—”

“Barba, you know there’s no point of self-flagellating, no matter how tempting it might be,”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, “It’s one of my many talents,” before rubbing his hands up and down his face, as if that would erase the exhaustion pressed upon his shoulders.

“Oh I know,” you say with a sigh, “but you have other talents, don’t you?” and he finally looks up at you — most times you didn’t know what to make of his looks — sometimes it was easy — amusement when the defense counsel tripped up or frustration when the detectives kept pressing him to take the case further when it already sprung a leak — but other times it was a glimmer, a hint at something you could barely grasp onto before it disappeared between your fingers. But now, it lingered, his gaze raked over you until it left your skin blaringly raw under his steady look.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” and now, you barely remember to breathe, the air sucked from the room, instead replaced with a heat — thicker as it settles, but still he sends shivers down your spine, your eyes barely flickering over his lips.

“I do,” the words falling from your lips, a rushed, thoughtless whisper.

His eyes molten, he leans forward, he mutters your name, barely a whisper — an ask for permission, as his palm dares to rest on your cheek, carefully, as if you would recoil from his touch — but you didn’t. You leaned into his palm, basking in his affection.

His hand slips down, thumb brushing your lips and then resting on your chin, tilting it downwards, “Are you sure you want to know me this well?” he asks, as you lean forward, your backside pressed against the edge of his desk.

“I do, if you’ll let me,” his breath warms your lips, “Rafael,” you whisper right before his lips brush yours.

It’s chaste at first, tentative and gentle, but when your fingers find purchase on the back of his neck, you chase his lips. You taste coffee — bitter and rich, as rich as the passion and urgency of his kisses. Soon he’s standing, and you’re sitting at the edge of the desk, his body between your legs. His hands trail down your body, and his lips follow — pressing fervent kisses to your neck. And your hand grasps at the edge of his to keep yourself steady, the other on his shoulder, digging into his crisp button down.

“Someone could walk in,” you gasp, hissing as his teeth gently graze your neck, “Raf—”

He pauses, leaning back, “You’re right,” and you bite your lip, as he steps back, grabbing his jacket, glancing between you and the door, “it’s late, we should—”

“Right,” your face burns, you round the desk towards the door, fuck, what if he thinks this is a huge mistake? What if he doesn’t—

He grabs you by the wrist gently, smiling as he brushes past you, holding his office door open for you, “Your place or mine?”

“You have to make our case, counselors, so what are you going to do about it?” Liv crossed her arms, looking between you and Rafael.

“We need more evidence Liv, there’s no way around it,” you sigh, “we go in guns ablazing and odds are we don’t get it because a) he destroys it, or b) fruit of the poisonous tree. He’s smart and his lawyers are smart, we need this by the book.”

“I agree, we need more — have you managed to get into contact with his ex-wife?”

“Only many unreturned phone calls,” Amanda shakes her head, “I’ll try again, but she retired to Florida—”

“Do one better, fly down there and talk to her,” Rafael replied, sliding the divorce proceedings across the table, “I think she may be the key to our case, and the warrants we need.”

Rafael walks them to the elevator, chatting about the case, as you glance at the stacks of motions you needed to get through still. The door clicking shut behind him, he slides next to you, as you slink down, sighing, “Thanks for backing me up on the case,”

“Of course,” he replies, “we need more evidence — taking a half baked case against someone like Rita? It’s like begging to be ripped apart in front of an audience.”

“Well, I know you dabble in masochism,” and he shot you a glare, his thigh pressed against your own, “How long do we have before you think we’ll have a case?”

“A while — it will take them some time to get down to Florida and get something usable,” he flipped through more packets, before tossing them flippantly onto the coffee table, leaning back, his eyes flickering to the door, and he leans over, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “which gives us more time to ourselves.”

“Rafael—” he swallowed your protests with a kiss, and it was enough for your worries to fall away — he was enough to make everything fall away for you, your eyes flickered to the door, “the door—” “I locked it,” the words reverberate against your skin, “I wouldn’t be so careless, counselor,” his use of your title sent a shiver down your spine, “now are you going to let me take you home?”

It had been a few weeks of this — sneaking kisses in between work, stolen glances across rooms, small smiles that quickly melted away under another's look, and many nights spent in the other's arms — but still you didn't know what this was.

"Let's go," you smiled, pressing a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth.

But you didn't care.

As the two of you stepped into the elevator, his hand brushed yours, because you didn't want to lose it.

"Yes sir, I understand. I'll be there," your eyes flicker up to see Rafael standing in the doorway, "okay goodbye."

"Was that McCoy—"

"Chewing me out for not attending yet another gala, unfortunately yes, and it looks like I'm being shanghaied into attending," you shake your head, groaning, "doesn't he have better things to do than force me to schmooze with the affluent and influential?"

"So close to his re-election? No," he sits down, checking his phone, "he needs to have his best and brightest there, and that's why he wants us there."

"'Us?'" the corner of his lip tilts upwards.

"You're not the only one who got an irate phone call," he locks his phone, tucking it away, "we should both leave the office early so we can arrive on time,"

You check the time, cursing, "I have to get my outfit dry cleaned, but I have to write a motion—"

"I can do it— my suit is ready and I told Liv I wouldn't pick her up until closer to the start—"

You blink, your chest squeezing, "Liv?"

He frowns, "Yeah I'm taking her tonight — as a favor — there's a case—"

You waved him off, “You don’t have to explain, it’s fine,” you grab your coat and your bag, “I should go now and drop off my clothes—”

He says your name, “You know I would want to go with you if we didn’t—”

If you didn’t work together, if your hypocrite of a boss didn’t have a chip on his shoulder for workplace relationships— “I know,” you reply, offering a small smile, if this was something more than what you knew it was— “I’ll see you tonight.”

But it wasn’t.

This was a nightmare.

Truly.

Forced to attend a gala alone with people you didn’t know very well, stuck in the corner by the bar, forced to watch the one person you wanted be with someone else. But you didn’t want to want him — you downed your drink, asking for a refill — the alcohol wasn’t the only thing bitter on your lips.

“Glad to see you could make it, counselor,” Jack McCoy greeted you with a grin, offering you his hand in a firm handshake, “you look lovely.”

“Well, my boss didn’t give me much of a choice,” you purse your lips, “something about my future at the District Attorney’s office and if I wished to have his support,”

He chuckles, ordering his drink from the bartender (“a scotch, neat”), “I sense good things in your future. You have been a great addition to SVU — you challenge the detectives to bring better cases and you’re giving Barba a run for his money.”

You spotted Rafael out of the corner of your eye, Liv on his arm, and you glanced away, sipping at your drink, tucking away your frustration behind a mask of boredom— “I suppose I am,” —albeit, maybe not fast enough.

McCoy followed your gaze. He doesn’t say anything, instead offering his hand to you, “May I have this dance?” you raised an eyebrow, leaning against the bar.

“You’re not trying to make me one of your famous work affairs, are you, Jack?” and he laughs, shaking his head, tilting his head.

“I think I know better than that, counselor,” your eyes find Rafael again — dancing with Liv, quietly talking, and you take Jack’s hand.

“I’d love to,” you follow him onto the dance floor, his hands resting respectfully above your waist just a new song began, “I should warn you I’m not the best dancer,”

“Just follow my lead,” he assured you, a smile playing on his lips, “and if you step on my feet, well I’ll have a good case for assault.”

You rolled your eyes, before pursing your lips, “What’s this about, Jack?”

“What do you mean?” it’s your turn to tilt your head, your arms resting on his shoulders, “I just wanted to say, I’ve been down that road before,” he spares a discreet glance at Rafael, “and it never ends well.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you keep your voice steady and confused, but Jack only raises an eyebrow, “There’s nothing going on—”

“A whole of lot of nothing is what I’m worried about,” He kept the friendly smile, “I’ve done this enough times to know when nothing is actually nothing — and I know the look you had wasn’t nothing—”

“Jack—”

“I’m not speaking to you as your boss, for now,” his words were careful, a sharp edge of warning that slid harmlessly across your cheek, but you knew it wouldn’t again, “but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I don’t want to either, but I know what I’m doing,” and Jack nods.

“I know you do, and I’m not telling you how to live your life, but-- “ he shakes his head, “you deserve better than someone who hides you — take it from an old man who lost someone they loved when they were too busy hiding them.”

You frown, “I—” and you felt a tap on your shoulder, Rafael standing between you two.

“May I cut in?” he offers Jack a smile, who steps back.

“Remember what I said, counselor,” Jack shakes Rafael’s hand, keeping his eyes on you, “a bright future.”

A slow waltz begins to play, and he grins at you, “Are you going to keep me waiting?”

“What about Liv?” he jerks his head and you see her dancing with that attorney, Trevor Langan.

“She’s busy, and she’s not the one I want to dance with,” and his smile falters, raising his eyebrows, “unless you don’t want to—”

You deserve more, Jack’s words echo in your ears, and you wanted more — you wanted him, more than you wanted to admit — more than he wanted you to want him.

“Of course I do,” you take his hand, a soft smile on his lips, his palm warm against your back, pulling you close.

“You look so amazing,” he remarks, murmuring in your ear, his dulcet tones sending a shiver down your spine, “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Really?” his fingers tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Yes, because I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to take off,” his voice liquid heat, and your breath stuttered in your chest — his hands on your body were no longer enough, “what do you do to me, mi amor?”

“I could say the same to you,” you mutter, as he tugs you a little closer, blurring the line between professional and personal, “Do you think it’s a good idea that we’re dancing this close?”

“What do you mean?” and you look around, scanning for any sight of Jack.

“Our jobs — people could talk,” and he just shrugs, emerald eyes shining, as his lips quirk upward, as he dips you, pulling you back up with ease — the same ease he did everything with — the same ease he always put you at.

“Then let them.”

And you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips. Maybe this was enough. You knew what you were doing. You glance at Jack, who now stands at the bar, his brow wrinkled.

Right?

“Rafael,” you can’t catch your breath with him, his lips insistent and plying, as he presses you into the soft cushions of the mattress, “we have motions in—” you gasp as he sucks your skin above your pulse, “an hour and half.”

But really you didn’t care about the motions — you didn’t care about being late —- you wanted to talk to him, about you — about the both of you — but he didn’t want to talk.

“That means we have at least half an hour,” his hands squeezed your hips, and your body responded in kind, head tilting back, exposing your neck for his lips, “that means I can do what i was planning to do more than once.”

“You’re awfully confident,” you sigh, your fingers knotted in his soft hairs at the base of his neck, and he presses a kiss right between your collarbone, his lips smiling against you.

“I have an impressive track record, no?” he grins, “I don’t recall you complaining last night,” you rolled your eyes, tugging him higher, so his hair brushed your forehead.

“You do, so much so that,” and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding against your chest, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

He raises an eyebrow, pressing a kiss to your lips, “What about?”

“What are we doing, Raf?” the words leave your mouth in a whisper — a single, gentle step onto a frozen lake, waiting for the ice to give way beneath you, “what is this to you?”

He hesitates — the first crack resonates through the still morning, “I don’t know, what is it to you? What do you want?”

I want more than just this, I want to be able to take you to galas, to kiss you outside of dark corners and corner booths— “I don’t know either—”

“Then let’s not waste time by defining it,” his hand cups your cheek — the cracks splintered under your feet, the water erupting from the fissures, “Mi amor, I’ve had relationships before, I’ve seen them fall apart, I’ve watched people who love each other hurt each other, over and over again. I don’t want to do that to you,” he sighs, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to either, but don’t you want more than this?” He holds your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the length of your cheeks.

“I just need you — no more, no less than just this,” Rafael presses a kiss to your palm, “can we keep it this way for a little longer?”

You deserve more. You want more. You need more.

He says your name again, and you offer a small smile, as you sink beneath the emerald colored water of his eyes.

“Of course, Raf.”

There’s a knock at your office, and you glance over at the call of your name, “Hey, I’m from SVU, I’m looking for Barba,” his lanky figure is standing in your doorframe, his dirty blond hair slicked back, “I’m here to pick up a—”

“A warrant?” you nod, rifling through your files, “I got it right here for you, Detective…?”

He offers a hand, “Dominick Carisi, but you can call me Sonny,” you shake his outstretched hand, “You’re Barba’s number two, right? I heard about you from the squad.”

“Not how I’d like to be remembered, but essentially yes,” you shrug, before handing him the warrant, “just make sure to keep your search restricted to the places in that warrant and catalog everything properly— we don’t need to need to deal any issues—”

“Chain of custody, yeah I know. I’m actually in law school right now,” he adds, “Fordham.”

“That’s a great school,” you raise your eyebrows, “I’m sure it’s tough balancing it with your work as a detective — I barely survived my first year and that was without a full time job.”

“Well, what can I say, I’m determined,” he nods, holding up the warrant, “it was nice meeting you, counselor.”

“You too, Detective Carisi—”

“I told ya, call me Sonny,” he smiles from the doorway, and you chuckle, a warm smile blooming on your face.

“Only if you call me by my name too, Sonny.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagines #rafael barba x you #svu #svu imagines #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagines #law and order svu #rafael barba fanfiction

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aristeiakira · 3 years ago

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hi hi! if requests are indeed still available and i haven’t totally messed up time zones, could i please get a classic obey me matchup??

i never know what to say when people ask for my interests shsksh but i love writing, baking, and listening to music. i pretty much listen to music 24/7 and i’ll use any excuse to make a playlist (i’ve got about 200 at this point). oh, and i love board games. as for my personality, im definitely a severely anxious person but i’m also incredibly stubborn and sarcastic. pretty closed off at first, but very ‘ride or die’ once we’re close. some might say im mean or abrasive, but im just not very verbally affectionate ig. my love language is quality time, so i love spending time with my friends in whatever way possible. also always willing to shower them in gifts to make up for my lack of verbal affection, so i absolutely do love my friends. just, deep-er down?

which means my view on love is complicated. in the past, some friends have all but told me i was unlovable in a romantic sense. so im skeptical about it, but still optimistic? there’s something out there for everyone. but in a more general sense, i kind of feel like love is in everything we do. love is more than just romantic, it’s platonic, familial, etc. the littlest acts come from love. so, in a way, love kind of makes the world go round? rly weird to say, but true.

sorry if this was a lot, clearly i also ramble shsksh but thank you SO much in advance

A Classic Matchup ♡

- You received The Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus!

- You’re sweet, he’s sweet, therefore I conclude you are the best match. No, really—I believe you would be great together.

- This man right here is up to eat what you will make or if you like maybe even bake with you. Although he’s not that good at it but he’ll try, I just don’t know whether it will be a success or disaster, anyways- it’s the thought that counts right?

- Similar to you, Asmo likes listening to music. He has a particular taste when it comes to song, still, he would appreciate any recommendation you have. I think he could be swayed into listening to what you like because he is going to replay any playlist you would make for him.

- He would definitely acquire the last song syndrome. You would just hear him humming at the most random of times, probably a song which you mentioned to be your favorite. Yes, he could be lovesick like that. You have just gotten yourself someone to share your playlist with!

- I think you have really different interests, it doesn’t hinder you both to bond though. I can see you playing board games one night then doing skincare the next hour. Maybe a spa day for a date or exploring new board games to play, whatever you choose to do, smiles would never fade from your lips.

- If you are severely anxious—worry not—you have this confident demon by your side after all. He has this comforting aura that will persuade you to succumb in serenity, his melodious voice will hush away all your fears, and he would do everything he can to make you feel assured. I believe his presence is one that could also symbolize solace.

- In the case where you’re stubborn and sarcastic side is shown, Asmo’s ready to back you up. He’ll second to whatever you may say, just proud how his significant other is feisty, very hot of you he’ll kid (or mean it sometimes).

- Can you be any more similar? At the start, Asmodeus was also quite wary of you, but when you do earn his trust he’ll cling to you all the time—in other words—your partner for the ride or die.

- In the aspect of affection or love languages, you shouldn’t have to worry because out of all the brothers, he understands the topic the most.

- You really balance out each other. You are not one to speak of your love but he is. If you’re alright with it, Asmo’s really going to shout his love for you, literally. If you’re not comfortable with it, expect the whispers of his affection.

- Here’s a scenario I’ve imagined:

- There was nothing different that day, except for the realization that dawned Asmodeus as you converse with his brothers. He wanted to just blurt out his thoughts yet he stopped himself because he didn’t want things to be uncomfortable for you. And so he opted to prop his chin onto your shoulder, smiling subtly to convince others there was nothing. In truth, he spoke in a hushed voice that only you would be able to hear- “I love you.”

- Back to your love language, Asmo adores it very much, it is a win for him no? This is where your interests are shared, any thing that he can do with you, he’ll do. Knowing that you’ll say yes to spending time with him, he asks before any of his brothers could. Window shopping? Choosing your outfits in the morning? Asmo’s gathering? Again, he loves your love language. When you make time for him, he feels all the love he needs and more.

- Did you say gifts? How can you be any perfect? He asks. He is going to treasure them, and when I say treasure, I meant he would keep your gifts as an entire collection in a special place of his wardrobe. He would also buy anything he deems worthy of being given to you because he’ll never let you to be the only one giving gifts! Surprise gifts just to tease each other may also frequently occur (I hope I had half the money you guys spend, T_T).

- Lastly, love does makes the world go round, and Asmodeus agrees. He thinks you perfectly defined it as it reflects who you are, the sweet human who have proven him about how the little acts people do come from love. He’ll cherish you till the end of his time.

#aristeiakira #anime #matchups #anime matchup #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me matchups #om! asmodeus #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader

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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

A World of Our Own Pt.06

Broken Hearts

09/20/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 6,012

Warnings: violence, blood, suggestive themes, language

A/N: I’ve been so excited for this chapter for so long. Probably just one or two more chapters after this. I hope you enjoy it! If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Ryan’s chuckle is infectious, and you can’t help but laugh along with him as he leans over to stoke the flames of your campfire.

It’s warm. Cozy by the roaring ocean waves that bring with it a cool briny breeze.

“Don’t laugh at me. It was very traumatizing.” Ryan demands, putting the large stick he’s been using to poke the fire aside before leaning back against new palm logs that he and Bucky had chopped for seating.

Even though you’re meant to sit on them, all of you seem to prefer to sit on blankets you’d stitched together from clothing too worn to use anymore.

“I feel bad for the shark. It has probably never seen a naked man before in its life and you’re out here dangling your bits all over its face.” You tease, shaking your head as if you really disapprove of him.

“Wha-?!” Ryan gasps, mouth wide open as he struggles to find a comeback.

“I was mindin’-” he takes a lengthy pause. “-mah own business-”

He places his hand on his chest as he pauses again, the wheels in his brain working quickly to come up with his excuse.

“-when this very large an’ scary fish comes out of the depths an’ charges me. I was the one scrambling ta get back ta shore. I was the one who was given a heart attack. Not the bloody shark!”

“Well, why were you swimming so far out?” You ask him, chuckling again and feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment at the memory of watching him run out of the water screaming at the top of his lungs, “Shark! Shark! Shark!” completely naked.

You’re not ashamed to say that there was nothing there that wasn’t worth looking at, but it was only an afterthought that you now think of as opposed to noticing in the moment.

You’d turned around instantly and gasped, completely confused as to why he was running towards you naked until you’d heard what he was saying.

“Should I start the fish?” Ryan asks, reaching for the folded leaves beside him where you’d put the cleaned fish when the sun had still been out.

It’s very obvious that Ryan isn’t answering your question.

Both you and Bucky have been watching him closely over the past month, since he’d first shown up completely wet, wondering where it is that he goes when he swims.

It wouldn’t make you so suspicious if he weren’t randomly disappearing when he takes these swims. He waits until you and Bucky are busy, distracted, then wanders off without a word.

Bucky has made you swear not to follow him, afraid of what Ryan might be capable of if he is up to something and is suddenly caught.

Problem is Bucky also refuses to leave you alone anymore, so he doesn’t get to tail Ryan either.

Until Ryan chooses to answer your question, neither of you will ever know where he goes.

“Sure.” You nod, then reach to place the metal sheet that Bucky had made for cooking food without having to deal with embers and ash on the fish.

Ryan separates each fish into one leaf on its own then places them on the thin sheet so that they might bake.

The two of you work in silence for a bit, sitting across the fire from each other, you steal glances at him, and he returns each look. He smiles, his expression kind and so trustworthy that you think in moments like these that you and Bucky might be wrong about him.

“Ryan?” You begin, hesitant.

He smiles to encourage you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He nods, smile vanishing as his face becomes a little more serious. Confused as to why you think you have to ask.

“Why don’t you talk about your son?” You wonder, now having said the words your mouth keeps going. “You drop this bomb and then never mention him again. I wasn’t sure whether you didn’t want to talk about him, so I never asked. If you’d prefer not to, I understand. There are things I’d rather not talk about to. Everyone is entitled to their secrets. I just—a kid is such a big part of who you are, right? Not the only part of you, obviously but he’s your son. You must think about him all the time.

“Who did you leave him with? He must miss you so much. I’m so sorry that you’re stuck here, with us, instead of home with your boy.” You sigh, and your breath shudders.

You smile at him awkwardly, realizing you’ve rambled on nervously.

“Sorry.” You offer, “I kinda just go off when I’m nervous.”

Ryan’s face is the picture of relaxation, however. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look upset that you’ve asked.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and you’re certain that he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it, but then… “To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t really sure that you or Bucky cared to know about Conor.”

“His name is Conor?” You gasp, smiling already like an idiot as you start to imagine a mini version of Ryan. Sandy blonde hair, lovely eyes, light skin.

“Aye, wee tyke is only five but when he talks to you, he sounds much older.” Finally, he smiles, the admiration of a father pouring out of him as he thinks about his little boy.

“Does he look like you or his mother?” You wonder, eager for details now that he’s talking.

“He looks like his mother. Almost my exact opposite. Dark hair and skin. Perhaps a bit lighter than his mother but he’s her spittin’ image. Dark eyes too. Just as beautiful.” Ryan says, a bit more forlorn than before.

Your own smile falters, wondering if maybe he and Conor’s mother are no longer together? Jeez, you really hope that he isn’t still married and flirting with you the way he has been. Not that you blame him being stuck on an island with no other women, but still.

Ryan seems like the type of man to devote himself completely.

“Is she-?” You offer, just to see if he’d like to open up.

He meets your gaze, holding it for a long moment before he tilts his head a little as he makes his choice quickly.

“Grace died. Just after giving birth to Conor. Conor almost went with her, but he pulled through and we have made a go of it, I think.” He gives you another smile. “I think he’s happy. Or was, before all this.”

“I’m so sorry, Ryan. I’m sure Conor loves and appreciates you very much.” His story is tragic, and your heart truly breaks for him.

“Thank you. Gettin’ back to him is the only thing that matters now.” He nods, looking more at ease. “It feels good to talk about them if I’m honest. I havin’ really spoken about it ta anyone other than mah parents. That’s who Conor is with, by the way. You were wonderin’ earlier.”

“You can always talk to me. About anything.” You assure him.

His smile grows wider and any sorrow left in his eyes vanishes as he looks down at the cooking fish before giving his head a minute shake.

“What?” You ask, your own voice shaking with the hint of laughter at the amused expression on his face.

“I was just thinkin’ about how unfortunate it is that you’re taken now. You would have made him a proper step-mom maybe.” His bold words stun you.

At a loss for what to say, you can only seem to focus on the way your neck begins to burn.

Ryan clearly enjoys watching you squirm for the two second that he has to do so before Bucky’s voice breaks the tension.

“Keep that up and you’ll lose your room.” Bucky warns, a playful note in his voice but really you can hear how serious he is.

“I just got it.” Ryan protests, looking towards the hut down the beach.

Bucky worked so hard on the build, elevated and sturdy with each brick placed with care and somewhat expert precision. The gambrel roof, which Bucky chose so that you could use the extra space to hang clothes and food away from where animals might find them, is tall and thatched with the fronds you’d worked so hard to tear and resew to keep the hut safe from the elements.

The hut is split in two down the center with two entrances. When you face the hut, the left side of it is taken by Ryan, a flight of bamboo stairs leading up to the curtained entrance. The right side belongs to you and Bucky.

“Stop flirting with my girl then, and I’ll let you keep it.” Bucky threatens, this time it’s clear he means it.

Ryan holds up his hands in defeat as you turn to devour you freshly bathed Bucky. In jeans and a t-shirt, he looks almost as if he’s ready to begin his day but instead of being productive he drops his dirty clothes into the handmade basket you’d woven with the extra strips of palm fronds then moves towards you. He takes hold of your face, tilting it back so that you might look up at him.

He leans down to look at you, smiling pleasantly.

“Hi.” He tells you, voice deep and penetrating.

“Hi.” You reply. “You smell good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down and kisses you, lips so sweet and fresh you could really just do this all night. He holds it for a few moments before he begins pushing you to scoot forward.

You move as he wants you to, looking back at him as he sits himself behind you, legs spread wide before he pulls you back to sit between his legs which he props up on either side of you. His arms wrap around your stomach and while your happiness quadruples with this unyielding affection he seems to shower on you lately, you can’t help but notice the way Ryan looks away, a small twinge of bitterness in his expression.

It’s just the island. You tell yourself, certain that if you all weren’t stuck here, you wouldn’t be so lucky as to hold the attention of two very beautiful men.

Although you’re certain, you can’t help but wonder if Ryan really does like you. Is it possible?

~~~~~~~~~~

Time doesn’t stop. Not for you stuck on this island. Not for Bucky, torn from the promise of a new life. Not for Ryan who misses his son and is losing more and more time with him. With time is taken all hope that you’ll ever be rescued but the three of you refuse to speak the words aloud.

In silence, there is the illusion of hope and you cannot afford to let it go.

Days roll into weeks and the three of you try to keep your spirits up. It’s easier for you and Bucky, you assume. Finally, being with him has changed very little and so much all at once.

The biggest change is your sleeping arrangements. The hut has been built for a while now. Two months it feels like, going on three. Six months going on seven since you three have been trapped here.

With the hut came privacy, the adobe wall that splits it in two gives you and Bucky the luxury of cuddling as you used to in the fuselage without the worries of being accidentally disturbed.

Because of this, in the morning Bucky’s warm kisses trail along your cheeks, your neck, onto your collarbone raising tingles in all the right places before he finds his way up to your lips.

His arms wrap themselves around you as hey lays himself over you and you raise your leg to hold him close.

“Good morning.” He whispers and your eyes open, devouring the beautiful image of him. Clean and dry. Not a drop of sweat on his perfect skin whereas your own is dewy and you’re in need of a morning swim.

“Good morning.” You whisper, your body burning for him.

It doesn’t help that you can feel him pressed against your thighs, stiff and awake with the morning.

With your lips suddenly dry, you run your tongue along them, wetting them as your breath hitches when he rolls his hips from side to side as he adjusts himself over you.

You know that he doesn’t mean it to make your blood boil, but it does and you snake your hands down to his waist before your fingers worm their way underneath his t-shirt and gently tickle his smooth skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, a smile in his voice as he raises an eyebrow but hold you closer.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, licking your lips again.

He huffs a laugh, cool air raising goosebumps along your neck.

“I think you know.” He counters, amused by your attempt to seduce him.

“Then why ask?” You reach down, sliding your hand down underneath the waistband of his underwear, breath catching in your throat at the swell of his bum.

“Y/N,” He pleads, a small hint of a chastising tone to his words. “We can’t.”

“But I want to.” You whimper, tired of begging. It’s been so long since the two of you have been together. For what feels like forever now.

“So, do I, kitten. Trust me.” He wiggles his hips, probably just trying to get comfortable but he inadvertently eggs you on, proves his point by pressing his erection against you—accidentally of course.

“Then…” You try it even though you know he’ll say no. Even though this argument has failed so many times. “…I can just-I’ll give you something and you don’t have to give me anything back.”

“I could never do that.” He argues, his face contorting a bit more. The hints of anger rising.

“Then we can just stop there, Bucky. We’ve got control, don’t we? I wanna suck your co-”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Bucky rolls off of you, sitting at the edge of the low bed with his elbows on his knees as he looks across the hut to the opposite wall, his breathing a little heavy.

You sit up, blinking away the tears of rejection because you know he doesn’t mean it in that way. You know what his worry is because it’s you’re worry too.

“I’m sorry.” You move up behind him, hugging him around his chest and resting your cheek against his solid back.

The rapid rate of his heart tells you how much he wants you even if he can’t see to let himself show it. You take solace in that as you splay your hands on his chest, breathing in the scent of the coconut oil you’d infused into the handmade soap you’d worked on several weeks ago.

“I…you know that we can’t.” He frets, still upset.

“I do.” You shake your head. “I’m just-”

He hears the sob trapped in your throat and he turns so quickly you nearly fall over but he’s there, holding you tight against his chest, hands caressing the back of your head as the other wraps around your shoulders.

“I want you, kitten. Believe me. I do. If I could be sure that we wouldn’t mess up…You were the one that set this boundary.” He reminds you, pulling back to look at you as shame overcomes you.

He’s right of course. You’d told him that you didn’t want to sleep with him until the two of you could be sure that you wouldn’t get pregnant. Not here. Not on this island. There was too much that could go wrong. Too much danger for a baby, not to mention birthing one here with no doctors in case something went wrong.

No, you couldn’t do it and so you’d both agreed.

But…

“I didn’t think we’d still be here.” You huff, burying your face into his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Bucky breathes a little more lightly, almost laughing again at the shift. This conversation has gone from up to down and right back up.

“I know, babe.” He whispers, resting his chin on your head as he strokes your back with both hands. “To be honest, my patience is also wearing thin.”

You pull back quickly, searching to get a look at his eyes to see if he might be lying. He isn’t and it does make you feel better that you aren’t the only one struggling with this abstinence.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to wait.” He confesses.

“Me neither.” You sigh. “But you already knew that.”

His face breaks into a smile and you’re calm again, happy to see that beautiful expression on his handsome face. Silver blue eyes all crinkled at the corners.

You reach up to touch his hair, giving it a decent appraisal. “You need another cut.”

“I think we should go shorter this time.” He nods.

“Like a little higher than your chin?” You touch the spot, but Bucky shakes his head.

“No, I mean, short.”

You gasp. “Bucky, I don’t think I trust myself to do that.”

“I trust you.” He counters but you shake your head.

Nope. You’re not going to risk butchering his lovely locks.

“I won’t do it, Barnes.” You frown.

“Stubborn ass.” He glowers.

“Fuck you.” You retort.

“Not yet.” He teases.

“I hate you!” You spit at him, because you can already see the laugh coming at that unfair statement and you shove away from him, moving towards the clothes you’ve got packed in one of the salvaged suitcases to pull out your favorite pair of jean shorts and a plain red t-shirt.

He’s laughing as you dress and doesn’t stop when you’re gone.

Making your way down to the campfire, you search for Ryan, half expecting to find him cooking fish for breakfast but he’s nowhere to be found.

As Bucky joins you, dressed in the same t-shirt with his own favorite pair of jeans on, you place your hands on your hips and look towards the stretch of water where the cockpit had once been visible.

It seems to have sunk to the floor now that the tide has risen and fallen so many times, taking the plane with it.

“What’s the matter?” Bucky wonders, lifting his foot onto the trough he’s been mixing more clay in again, working on something secret that he refuses to let you in on just yet.

“I’ll tell you when it’s relevant. Right now, it’s just a precaution. Trust me, okay? If I need to bring it up, I will.” Then he’d gone back to lining the outside of the hut with metal sheets from the plane before sealing them over with clay.

He laces up his boot but watches you as he works.

“He’s gone again.” You shake your head.

“He hasn’t tried anything.” Bucky ponders. “If he was going to hurt us, he would have done it by now.”

“I know, it’s just…” You bite your lip.

“He is hiding something.” Bucky agrees, this conversation having played out so many times. “But I think he also wants some distance from us. We’re probably annoying to be around.”

“We’re not that bad anymore.” You argue.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky whispers, his lips suddenly at your ear.

He kisses it, slipping your lobe into his mouth as your eyes shut to the pleasure the gesture raises.

“You’re not making this any easier.” You sigh but turn to look at him and without hesitation pull him down to meet your lips with his own.

The kiss is a frenzy, heated and eager as your hands grope and cling as Bucky’s also press and pull against the flesh of your hips and ass leaving burning bruises behind.

Out here where you might get caught is the safest place to be this affectionate. Where you can’t take this any further than this passionate kiss.

“Do ya really have ta do that so early in the mornin’?” Ryan’s voice cuts in, interrupting just as you both intend.

Bucky pulls away first, letting the smack of your kiss echo before giving you one devilish grin then marching back to the trough.

“Sorry.” You turn to Ryan, hoping your expression is rightly chastised. “Fish?”

Ryan holds it up to indicate his catch then moves towards you to hand it over for cleaning.

You settle down beside him on your usual stump, pulling out your makeshift knives and gut the fish with the precision of someone who’s done this everyday for half a year. Ryan gets to building a new fire, gathering as much of the ash for you as he can for when you decide to make more soap.

While you work, you watch him, stealing glances at the subtle downturn to the corners of his lips.

The longer he works the more he seems to wallow.

Once the fish is settled over the fire, you turn in your spot to focus your attention on him.

“What?”

Slightly startled, he turns to you with wide eyes, all traces of the depression he’s been in gone.

“What?” He sounds confused.

“What’s the matter with you?” You clarify.

“Oh.” He sighs and shakes his head.

You know you can guess. “Conor?”

“Aye, Conor.” The sadness returns to his face and your heart gives a painful lurch for him.

He must miss his son so much.

“He’s probably startin’ school this month.” He laments, stoking the fire.

“It’s his first year?”

“Aye, I hope he isn’t scared.” Ryan hopes.

“I’m sure he’s just as brave as his dad.” You offer in comfort, giving Ryan as kind a smile as you can muster.

“We’ll get off this island, Ryan. Someone will come. Even if it’s by accident. Even if it’s years from now. You’ll be with Conor again.” You hope, because even though you want it to be a promise, you don’t know.

Ryan’s face contorts, agony ripping through him for one quick second before he meets your gaze and reaches out to take hold of your hand.

“I think…” Bucky begins from the trough, Ryan’s hand freezing mere inches from your own.

He takes it back and clears his throat, the look of pain vanishing from his handsome face before he looks to Bucky just as you do.

Bucky’s gaze is focused on the horizon, the ocean waves unnaturally gentle. It’s a beautiful day.

“What is it babe?” You call, trying to pull Bucky out of his thoughts.

He turns his furrowed brow back to the two of you, “I think we might have to move to the cave. Soon.”

“The cave?” You rise, glancing at the fish to make sure they’re not burning. “The one Ryan was in when he landed?”

Ryan sits back, a perplexed gaze fixed on Bucky.

“Yeah. Do you think you can show me where it is?”

“Why would ya need to go there?” Ryan reaches out to stoke the fire once again, pulling his gaze away from you both.

“Bucky?” You worry, moving towards him as he straightens up and wipes his hands clean to take your hand as you reach him.

“We won’t need to go there yet.” He assures you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist to pull you into his side. “It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution against what?”

“It’s hurricane season. The hut is…I’m not exactly an architect. I’ve done what I can with what we have but that hut is not meant to withstand a hurricane. When it comes down to it, we might be able to take shelter in the fuselage if we have to but with the three of us, the cave might be a better option. How did you hold up in the caves during that first storm?” Bucky gestures to Ryan.

Ryan spares you both a glance before nodding. “There was minor flooding at the back jus’ before the exit by the jungle but otherwise it was dry and safe. It’s not a bad plan.”

“Then you’ll show me where it is?” Bucky insists.

“It’s not hard ta find, but sure. Tomorrow morning?” Ryan turns to him.

Bucky nods leaning down to press a kiss to your head.

The memory of that initial hurricane just after you’d crash landed here fills you with worry. What if you do have to go through another one and this one is worse? How likely is it that you’d die from a storm before you get rescued?

“Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll keep you safe.” Bucky whispers, reaching up to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand where there is no clay.

“I wish you didn’t have to shoulder so much.”

“Taking care of you is never too much.” Bucky smiles. “I kinda look forward to it actually.”

“Why?” You wonder, absolutely confused.

“Because I do. Don’t question it. Just accept it. You’re never getting rid of me.” He teases.

“Even when we’re rescued?” You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Especially when we’re rescued.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you once, then starts to lean down towards you for a kiss.

“I’m going for a swim.” Ryan announces, breaking the little bubble you and Bucky are in.

Without ceremony, Ryan moves straight for water headed towards the crash site without even feigning a different direction.

This draws both yours and Bucky’s attention as both of you are well aware that Ryan has still been swimming out to the cabin, but he’s taken such great care to go at it in roundabout ways. While strange, you guess that he must be more upset about Conor than even you could tell.

Your mind replays the agonized look he’d given you before when you’d promised him that rescue would be coming. Maybe he could tell that it was only your hope?

“He misses Conor. He should be starting school soon.” You explain.

“Mm.” Bucky nods, accepting your explanation.

“If there were any photos, he would have found them already, wouldn’t he?” You wonder, curious to no end about your new friend.

Sure, you have suspicions, but after so much time spent with him, you’ve both accepted him as a part of your life here. Ryan has your trust. And though you know it was given reluctantly, Bucky’s too.

“Maybe he just can’t bear to give up. I know I wouldn’t.” Bucky looks down at you, giving you a squeeze.

“If you had a son?” You ask.

“I’m not opposed to the idea.” Bucky stuns you, pulling you to look at him with his words to see how serious he might be about it. “With you. When the time is right.”

Your heart is pounding. Your mind is reeling. Bucky wants to have kids with you?

“You promise?” You gasp, so shocked your voice is mostly air.

“I love you.”

You smile, loving the words that spill from his lips.

“You do?”

Bucky smiles then chuckles, reaching up to squeeze the back of your neck, and you know that he’s telling you the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You smell good.” Bucky sighs, holding the blanket open for you as you take off your shoes and slip into the bed and nestle into Bucky’s arms. “Good bath?”

You can hear the exhaustion in his voice. He’s been working so hard to fortify the hut for smaller storms that might hit.

“Yes.” You hug him, cuddling in against his side as he drapes the blanket over you.

“You’re wearing your shorts?” He checks, and he’s right.

You’ve chosen to sleep in your second set of shorts, dark gray cloth instead of jeans and your tattered blue floral dress.

Because you don’t answer, Bucky adjusts to look down at you, forcing himself awake.

“Kitten?”

“I’m just…I want to be ready if we need to go short notice.” You confess, shutting your eyes and refusing to look at him. You don’t want him to see the fear.

“Ready for what?”

“Anything. Hurricanes.” You admit and wish you could throw away this fear.

You’re almost expecting Bucky to chastise you for your worrying but instead he settles into the plane cushion bed again and cuddles you closer.

“That’s smart.” He approves. “But we won’t have anywhere to run until tomorrow morning. Ryan has to show us the cave first.”

“Can I come?” You’re already drifting off, voice weak and slurring.

Bucky’s is the same, both of you exhausted from the day’s work.

“You kidding? I’m not letting you outta my sight.” He mumbles, his breathing getting heavier.

You almost smile but sleep takes you and your mind is overcome with dreams of thunderous clouds.

~~~~~~~~~~

For a moment Bucky isn’t sure what he’s hearing. He can feel you stirring to the sound in his arms and he tries to hold you tighter.

You were so scared before, the look of terror in your eyes at the prospect of being caught in a storm worse than the one you weathered before.

He wants to make sure you feel safe and secure with him. He’ll protect you from weather and predator, whether that’s animal or stupid fucking Ryan.

You tug away from him hard though and the sound…a humming…no, a loud thumping. It’s hard to place as he tries to both understand the sound and also figure out why you’re no longer lying beside him.

“Y/N?” He searches, sleepily pushing himself onto one elbow as he hears you bolt for the door.

Suddenly he’s wide awake and he can hear you rounding the hut to the other set of stairs on the other side.

He pulls his boots on quickly, sliding his feet in and lacing them with nimble fingers loosely.

“He’s gone!” You cry out, the pure panic in your voice as the sound overhead suddenly makes sense to Bucky.

A helicopter! It thuds loudly, motor whirring and buzzing and blowing sand everywhere while whipping trees back and forth.

Bucky springs form the hut and sees you already racing towards the trees where you can see the chopper headed.

He passes you quickly, easily. But he doesn’t stop because he knows that you would never forgive him.

Bucky runs faster than he’s ever run in his life, barreling through dense jungle but never once missing a step.

The branches of certain trees scrape at his skin and slap his face, but he doesn’t relent in his pursuit.

It takes minutes for him to reach a small field of tall grass. It’s sways violently in the chopper’s wind and at the center of this field is Ryan.

Bucky stops, taking in the sight as a blinding spotlight shines on Ryan first then quickly swings towards him.

Ryan follows the beam and when he sees Bucky take a step towards him, he reaches down to his hip where a holster suddenly sits. He pulls a gun, a 9mm Beretta from what Bucky can tell, and stops his advance.

“Stop!” Ryan orders, his voice tight and commanding.

As the chopper descends a little more to hover at fifty feet, a steel wire ladder falls down towards Ryan as Bucky begins to notice the metal case in his other arm.

“What’s in there?” Bucky asks, staying as still as he can until he might have a chance to pounce.

“The other black box.” Ryan says simply, his voice softer but defiant. “Parts of it.”

Bucky’s glare is piercing and if Ryan didn’t have that gun, he would probably have already fled.

“I had to…” Ryan begins, still combative in tone but Bucky realizes that the anger in it is not directed at him. “They have me by the balls, mate. When Grace died, Conor would have followed, but they found me, and they offered to save his life. That is a debt I can never repay.”

Bucky’s fists tighten, anger bubbling up to choke him so that he cannot speak. These schemes, it has to be Hydra. No one else would want him dead.

“Who’s they?” He forces himself to ask, just to make sure.

It could be the U.S. Government too if he’s being completely honest. They could very well want him out of the way.

“I don’t know. People.” Ryan throws out, and Bucky believes that he doesn’t know. “All I know is they wanted you out of the way. If I had known that she…I didn’t know that she would be there. I didn’t know that they would die.”

Ryan’s voice grows thick and he shakes his head, ridding himself of whatever thoughts his guilt have conjured up.

“If I don’t finish the job, they’ll kill mah boy.” He holds the gun steadier, catching his breath before he makes his face as stoic as possible. “This is all I can give her. I can’t save her, but I can at least do this much. I can give her you. They’ll think you’re dead. I’ll make sure.”

Bucky sees it now. The real emotions behind his eyes. Ryan does love you. He’s certain of it now. He also understands what he’s saying and leans forward, angling himself so that when Ryan shoots, the bullet will hit his shoulder. Too high to be his chest and endanger his lungs or heart.

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Ryan pleads, and squeezes the trigger.

Bucky’s mind races with possibilities. Ryan might miss. He could hit him where he will not recover and then you’d be left here alone on this island. You’d hate him for not fighting and hate Ryan for killing him. He could bleed out and Bucky can’t imagine you here without him.

The bullet pierces him just where he’d hoped and falls to the ground with a heavy thud and goes as still as he can possibly can.

He holds his breath, pushing through the pain that burns from his right shoulder, and hoping that the chopper will leave quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gasping with a stitch in your side and your legs made of jelly, you break through the trees onto a field you’ve passed a few times here on the island but avoided in case of snakes.

The sight before freezes you. Ryan shoots. Bucky falls.

Ryan turns to a wire ladder and begins to climb, and you race to Bucky, sobs already shaking your body.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp. “Please. Please, don’t be dead.”

As you reach him, you turn him over, and see that his eyes are wide open, reading your heartbroken expression as he remains unmoving while you press your hands against his wound.

You continue to sob, turning your eyes to the chopper overhead as it pulls away and takes with it all hope of your rescue.

As it fades into the distance, Bucky pulls himself up a bit, sitting up and pressing his much larger hand against the bullet hole on the front while you fuss with the exit wound in the back.

“W-We need to s-stitch you up.” You cry, voice low and controlled despite the sobs still ripping through your throat.

Without hesitation you reach down and tear away at your dress reducing its length even further, now just barely reaching your hips. You wrap it around the wound as best you can, slapping Bucky’s hand away to shove more fabric over it and then place his hand back over the spot.

“I’m alright, kitten.” Bucky tells you, voice strong and certain.

“Like fuck-all you are.” You sob, fisting the front of his shirt as you refuse to look back to where you can still hear the chopper’s sounds, fading. “H-He shot you.”

Bucky strokes the side of your face with his metal hand, directing your gaze up so that you can look at him.

As you meet his steel and ice eyes, full of warmth and reassurance, you fall to pieces as you realize that Ryan has betrayed you. All your suspicions, as unlikely as you’d thought them, were true.

Bucky metal arm pulls you closer, his lips pressed to your crown as you sob against his chest, knowing now that you will never leave this place. You and Bucky will live and die on this island and no one will ever know you were here.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #castaway au #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fic #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #a world of our own #awooo #a world of our own pt06 #desert island au #stranded au #bucky x reader romance

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missmonsters2 · 5 years ago

Text

You Found Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Summary: Part II to Under the Light. Two years have passed . You think there are somethings you can’t survive, but you find a way. And when you’re forced to face Wanda once more, you learn that time can heal almost anything, but some things don’t change.

Note: This was part of my 500 (or 800) follower celebration a while back. 1/3 fics that I will be writing a part II for with a happy ending. This is about as happy as it gets LOL For any new readers, make sure to read part I: under the light for this to make sense.

Warnings: implied depression, panic attacks, moving on & therapy.

PART I: Under the Light

Genre: Soft Angst & Romance

Count: 6589

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The end isn't always what you think it is.

You think after the end, that's it. Roll the credit scene, and fade to black. That's the end of the book; there isn't anything else.

But it's not.

There's always something after the end, and in your case, it's called moving on.

"So?"

You look up, thoughts interrupted.

"I don't know, doc," you sigh, leaning back on the couch.

"Try to explain it," he gently asks, his legs are crossed as he's got his chin in his hand, notebook strewn aside.

You gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to string your thoughts together.

"I guess the hardest parts are the small things I have to remind myself that I don't need to do anymore. Like, earlier this month, there was a new Netflix show that I know she'd love, and I caught myself not watching it because I felt like I should wait for her, but I don't need to anymore," you hope that's enough to convey what you're feeling to your therapist.

"And?" He probes, and you sigh.

Of course, it wouldn't be enough. You knew better by now.

"And I feel...lost," you shrug.

Your therapist hums.

"Why do you feel lost?" Your therapist questions. "What was it about Wanda that made you feel found?"

Talking about Wanda still feels like there's a painful thudding on your chest.

"I..." You rasp, "Because she was like me. Broken. She saw me for me and loved me anyway. And that all crumbled apart."

"Because she's not broken anymore?"

You nod tiredly.

"So, what is the concept of broken people?" Your therapist asks as he leans back in his chair. "If you can be unbroken, were they broken in the first place? Is being broken a forever issue?"

You're silent because you don't know.

"Think about it," your therapist says, uncrossing his legs. "I think you should be opening to meeting more people, making more friends, and letting things progress naturally without too many expectations."

You nod, licking your lips, thoughts coming and going from your mind.

"Alright, that's it for our session today. Think about what I said and come see me again in a couple weeks," your therapist closes his notepad, standing up to let you out.

"Alright, thanks, doc," you say with a soft grin that your therapist returns.

"You're doing really well," he compliments you, "much better than when I found you."

You laugh, "You mean a real nutcase."

"Not at all," your therapist smiles, "You came here, lost and alone. Even though you had said you wanted to give up, you found a job before anything else. You have a stubborn fighting spirit, that even when you feel like you're at your end, you keep going. Be a little proud of that."

"Thanks, David."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Do you ever wonder what the truth is? Is the truth just a matter of circumstance?

Because the truth is that you had run. You ran from New York and began again in LA.

You saw the missed calls from Wanda and changed your number. You knew that she could find you, if she wanted, you can't hide from her powers and you can't hide from Tony's money.

But running and changing your numbers told her you didn't want her to come after you.

But maybe there's a truth to that too.

"Hey, got your usual."

You look up to see the friendly coffee shop owner across from your building.

"Have I become that predictable, Lucy?" you reply with a friendly smile.

Lucy hands you your drink, laughing lightly as she does. She throws in a free muffin.

"Maybe you're just my favorite customer," she grins.

You quirk your brow at her. Lucy is undoubtedly pretty, with her blonde hair and green eyes. She's funny, and she's easy-going.

"Are you flirting with me over baked goods?"

"Is there any other way?" Lucy tilts her head.

You smile at her, and she returns it.

"Can I have your number?" She asks bluntly, and you find yourself pausing for a moment.

It's small things like this that you find catching yourself at.

The quick second where you almost automatically say no because your body is so used to having Wanda.

The next quick second, where it feels like you're cheating even if she's not with you anymore.

It's a constant reminder you have to learn to live your own life.

You grab an extra coffee sleeve on the side and the pen, scribbling your number down.

You give Lucy a small smile before you wave off and set off to get to work.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Hey, where's the fire today?" You ask your coworker as you see the office bustling around more than usual.

"We have a new client. She wants a marketing plan for her company. It's brand new, but she's bringing loads of money. Harris is sucking ass hard to keep her happy," your coworker gossips with you and you hum.

You're not really too concerned about it. After all, you're still relatively new to the company, only having worked for a year and a half.

You were just a novice marketing designer. You worked on small jobs, fixing up other people's work, creating a few things here and there. Your boss was just starting to give you more responsibilities and really liked the ideas you were bringing.

"She sounds like a pain in the ass," you say. You've met big clients before. Most of them were demanding and a little on the rude side, but you couldn't really do much about it when you're just a novice designer.

"Oh, we're passing by the meeting room, let's see what's going on," your worker huddles a little closer to you as the conference room comes up. As you pass by the glass walls, your breath stops.

It's been 2 years, but you could never forget her face.

She looks the same, a little more mature maybe. She's dyed her hair blonde, and no longer has the split hair part, but now to the side.

An array of emotions flicker through you, but it's the single, loud thought that draws her attention to you.

'Fuck.'

Her head whips over to you, shock registering on her face, and at least you know this wasn't a planned attack.

"Oh, she's hot," your coworker whispers to you, and the only response you have to that is swallowing.

"I gotta go," you mutter, speeding past the room and leaving your coworker alone.

You don't even know where to go, but all you know is that you can't be in the same building as Wanda, let alone a room. Bolting out of the building, you walk and walk until you find yourself back at the café.

You sigh, entering the shop.

"Hey," Lucy greets you, surprise on her face that you're back so soon.

You try to give her a smile, but it probably comes out as more of a grimace.

And when Lucy cocks her brow at you, you sigh.

"Sorry," you breathe, "I got ambushed at work. I need somewhere to hide, and I don't know, I ended up here."

Lucy merely nods as you take a seat at one of the tables, setting your bookbag down. You've got your head in your hands as you're trying to control your breathing.

A cup of coffee being set down brings you out of your momentary panic. You look up to see Lucy taking a seat diagonally from you.

"On the house for my favorite panicky customer," she lightly teases you, smiling when she gets you to chuckle.

"Thanks," you say, taking a sip of the drink.

You can tell it's decaf, and you smile at her being considerate.

"So," Lucy slowly speaks, "want to share what's gotten you so shaken that you ran back to my coffee shop before I even had a chance to give you a call?"

You bite your lip.

"I..." You start.

"My ex showed up at my firm. She's a customer. An important one at that, it seems."

It's probably not a good start to talk about your ex, one that clearly so affects you still, to someone you just gave your number to in the prospect of going on a date.

Lucy hums.

"It didn't end well?" She surmises, and you shakily nodded.

"Are you still in love with her?" Lucy asks.

You don't answer right away, but it's enough for Lucy to have an answer.

You don't look at her because it's obvious this was crashing and burning too.

"I..." Lucy licks her lips, "would like to take you on a date."

Your head snaps at to look at her like she's grown three heads.

"What?" You sputter. "Are you sure? I have a lot of baggage clearly."

Lucy shrugs.

"Who doesn't have baggage?"

Your expression shows her that you're unsure because this doesn't exactly spell out it's going to end well, not that it wouldn't either.

"Look," Lucy puts her hand atop of yours, "I'm well aware you're probably still in love with your ex. Whatever it was, it must've been intense. I know full well what I would be getting myself into if I take you on a date. But I think you deserve to go out with someone and see there's more out there."

You stare at her hand on top of yours, blinking.

"Just think about it," Lucy pats your hand as the door rings, indicating another customer has come in. "You're welcomed to stay to hide, and you know where to find me."

Lucy leaves you in your thoughts. You do take her up on her offer to stay because there's no way to go out back to the office. You e-mail your boss you'll be working elsewhere for the day, but he doesn't care as long as you turn in your drafts.

At the end of your shift, you get up, giving Lucy a half-shy, half-awkward wave and leave.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You leisurely take your time walking home to be able to process your thoughts.

You feel a little calmer than you did when you first bumped into Wanda this morning, but now you had more on your plate with Wanda and deciding if you wanted to go on a date with Lucy.

Although time has passed, you were only really beginning to heal yourself. You weren't really sure if you were in the right headspace for dating.

It felt much more serious now that Lucy knew you had some baggage, and still wanted to go on a date. It didn't feel casual anymore.

You were beginning to walk up to your duplex when you spotted someone sitting on your steps.

"What are you doing here?" You bite out.

There she was, Wanda, sitting on your steps with her head in her hands. She snapped up, hearing your voice.

A wide variety of emotions passed her face.

"You're here," she breathed, and you find yourself recoiling with the thick emotion in her voice as she spoke.

Wanda stands up, going down the steps before she's standing in front of you.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon invades your nose, and a whole new wave of anxiety passes you with the familiarity of it.

Your heart starts thudding in your chest, and you're breathing heavily. Something on your face tells Wanda you're about to have a panic attack. She starts to come closer, wanting to wrap her arms around you, but she pauses.

Wanda knows that she's the cause of this right now, so she backs up and gives you some space with her hands up non-threateningly.

"Hey," she softly speaks, "it's okay. I won't invade your space."

You close your eyes as you try to focus.

"That's it," Wanda tries to guide you, "breathe in. Hold it...that's good, okay, exhale slowly."

This repeats for minutes until you've calmed down.

"I'm sorry," Wanda says slowly, "I would've called first, but I didn't know your number."

"That didn't stop you from showing up at my place," you mutter.

Wanda bites her lip, but nods.

"What do you want?" You ask her.

"Can we go inside? It's not safe about it to talk outside," Wanda nods her head towards your door.

You frown, not really wanting to let her in, but you sigh and nod.

You pass by her, careful to not breathe in her scent as you open the door and let her in.

You barely acknowledge her as you drop your things on the kitchen table and start to heat your kettle for hot water.

Wanda walks in slowly, taking in your place.

She notices that it both feels homey and empty.

You've clearly taken care of your place, getting a nice couch, and the effort of getting pillows and throw blankets for it. There's art on the wall, but there are no personal photos anywhere.

It was like a show home.

You watch Wanda stare at your things as you lean against the wall.

"Why are you here?" You ask, breaking Wanda's thoughts as she looks over to you.

She purses her lips, let out a deep sigh.

"I'm on a mission. I didn't realize you were working there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm investigating your boss."

"My boss," you repeat slowly, and Wanda nods.

"I can't go into many details, but I'm undercover right now."

You grumble. Of course, the firm you pick to build your career has a shady boss running it.

"Fine," you huff, "I won't get in your way. Anything else?"

Wanda's eyes soften as she looks at you.

"How are you? You look good," she sincerely says to you, and you give her a blank expression.

There's a tumulus feeling rumbling underneath you. You want to scream at her because why is she asking? It's none of her business.

Wanda sighs again when you don't answer her. "I sincerely didn't know you worked at the firm. If I had known you worked there, I would've asked someone else to take this mission."

There's a bit of a sting to her words because as much as you didn't want to see her, it sounds like she didn't want to see you either.

"Well," you huff, "no worries about me. I won't get in your way. Do what you have to do."

Perhaps because there's a bite to your words, a tone of sarcasm as you walk back into the kitchen, Wanda follows you.

"Hey," she calls, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. You immediately pull your arm away, and Wanda lets go, an apologetic look on her face.

"I didn't mean it like that," Wanda explains.

It's silent, and you don't say anything, not making another move even though your kettle as turned off, signaling the hot water was done.

"I wanted to chase you," Wanda says.

The words hang in the air, and you're not sure what to do with that. You just let the words sting.

"I wanted to follow you immediately the day you left. You ran so fast. One moment you were breaking up with me, and then the next day, you bought a plane ticket and left," Wanda ran her fingers through her hair.

"I harassed Tony into finding out where you had gone. I bought a plane ticket, ready to go after you," Wanda stopped talking.

You were clenching and unclenching your jaw.

"But Natasha said I shouldn't," Wanda finally says, and you're ready to explode at her, barely able to just keep it in.

"She said that you were hurting, I was causing your hurting," Wanda frowned. "Natasha said you needed to heal, and where we both were, I would only hinder your progress. You needed a change of scenery without me."

You don't know what to say to that.

Because it's true.

With more time that passes, it's easier for you to admit that you being with her at the time was making things worse for you.

She wasn't in a good place when you had met her and got together. But Wanda was healing before you, and you weren't ready for that.

You relied on her too much, put Wanda on a pedestal, kept putting her before yourself.

You were probably hindering Wanda's healing too.

It was too hard for you to see her with Vision, even if it might've been nothing.

"I respected your space, and I didn't check up on you," Wanda tells you, taking a cautionary step closer. "But that never changed the fact that I'm still in love with you. I'm still waiting for the right time for us to get back together."

You recoil slightly as she gets closer. You're not ready for this. You can feel every muscle in your body screaming to run.

"Why?" You hoarsely ask, tears welling in your eyes.

"When you left, you said I had outgrown you," Wanda says, and you feel a slice across your heart at the bitter memory.

"But that's not true," Wanda shakes her head, "I had loved you when we first met, loved you when we were in the dark, and I will love you as we keep moving. It doesn't matter if we don't move at the same pace. I will love you."

They're pretty words, you feel. Because all you can remember is how she had said none of this as you were leaving.

All you can remember is how she turned to Vision.

You don't have anything to say except you turn to bolt for the door, leaving Wanda in your place.

You hear a call of your name, but you keep running, thankful that she doesn't follow you.

You pull out your phone and dial.

"Hello?"

"I know it's after hours, but can you please see me right now?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You staring a picture above the fireplace.

"Did you want anything to drink?"

You turn your attention away from the photo, looking at David.

"Water, please," you quietly ask.

"Sure thing," David grins as he yells down the hall for water, making you wince.

His husband, Liam, shows up looking unimpressed with David as he shoots you a wink before leaving.

You're in David's study room as he hands you the water and gestures for you to take a seat.

"Sorry for showing up like this," you apologize.

David waves it off. "It's fine. You came at a good time. Liam was kicking my ass in scrabble, he was getting too smug."

You smile lightly. It's been a while since you had seen Liam. When you had first arrived, you saw David pretty regularly and sometimes even ate dinner at their place while you were still trying to get yourself together.

"So?" David settles into his seat with his hands, clasped together. "What's got you rattled?"

"Wanda showed up."

It's quiet for a moment as David assesses what you said.

He hums.

"Why did she show up?"

"She's a client at my firm. An important one and she can't choose another firm. She didn't know I was working there," you explain as best you can since you can't tell David she's undercover.

David nods.

"And what happened?"

"I ran," you tell him. "I hid in a coffee shop I go to every day, where the owner asked me out on a date, knowing full well I'm not over Wanda. Then I went home, and Wanda was there waiting for me."

You speak so fast that David widens his eyes minusculely.

He doesn't say anything, so you assume you need to keep talking about what happened.

"I had a panic attack when I smelled her scent," you mutter, "I let her into my place, and she explained why she had shown up. I know she wasn't trying to ambush me."

"Alright, it sounds pretty standard. Did she leave after?"

You explain the rest of what happened to David, who seems to be taking in what happened as he sits in silence for a bit.

He hums.

"What did you think about what she said?" He asks.

"Lies," you immediately say. "Or at least partially lies."

"Why is that?"

You sigh a little frustratedly as you lean forward in your chair. "Why didn't she say those things as we were breaking up? I told her to admit it, she had outgrown me, and she didn't say anything. Saying nothing might as well have been agreeing. Now she's here saying that she would always love me?"

"And what if it was true? That you two had outgrown each other?"

"Then there's no point," you say, "even if we land in the right place, we could always outgrow each other again."

David hums again, and you hate it when he does that.

"Just say what you're thinking," you grumble, and he smiles.

"In my professional opinion, it's true that it can happen again. But here's the thing, love is not just a feeling. It takes work and effort. You have to choose that every day. Two years have passed, the two of you are different people. Back then, you were choosing to not move forward; Wanda was. That's where your insecurities had stemmed from when she was getting closer to Vision. Space apart might have been the best thing for you to not rely on and hinder each other. But now, you're here. Healing. Choosing."

"So, I should get back together with her?" Your brows furrow.

David laughs lightly, "No, I didn't say that. That's something you will need to decide on your own. I'm just here to help you rationalize your feelings and thoughts, suggest you do things that may help. That's why I think you should accept the date with Lucy."

"What?"

David rests his elbow on his armrest, rubbing his index finger and thumb together.

"Lucy was very clear she understood what she was getting into if you choose to go on a date with her. Seems like she's offering to show you a good time without any strings attached. You might not come across an opportunity like that again," David points out.

"If it leads to something more and you want that, you have your answer," David smiles.

You sigh shakily and nod sharply.

The end of the session comes, and David leans forward.

"Just remember, you're different than who you were two years ago. Wanda coming back doesn't change that. She's different than who she was two years ago. You don't need to idealize her. She's just another person too."

You shakily nod your head, thanking David for squeezing you in so suddenly, and say bye to Liam on your way out.

When you head home, Wanda is no longer there, but there's an address written on your notepad on the counter.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next few weeks pass by with a blur. Work gets so busy, you hardly have time to think about anything.

Not that it stops you from thinking about things, but it's easier.

You see Wanda in the building occasionally, but other than a nod of acknowledgment, she doesn't speak to you. You're sure it's because you ran out the last time, and she's trying to respect your space again.

Though, sometimes you find yourself staring at Wanda from afar. You think about what David says and how you're both different people. She does seem different.

She walks with this air of confidence that she didn't have before. She smiles more, and she doesn't look as angry and resentful as she once did.

You find yourself self-reflecting on yourself when that happens. You can admit that you've come a long way, but you aren't quite sure you'd categorize yourself in the same place as Wanda, but you are moving forward.

That night, you show up at the coffee shop, surprising Lucy as you come in.

You haven't seen her in weeks, you even stopped coming for morning coffees.

"And she lives," Lucy says amusedly, but you feel a little guilty for avoiding her.

You breathe, gathering your courage as you look at her.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Lucy tilts her head, staring at you momentarily before she smiles, and you think she has a beautiful one.

"I'm actually just closing up, so if you'd like to wait, we can go to this nice little ice cream shop a couple blocks from here."

You nod eagerly, happy that you hadn't botched this up.

You two make small talk as she cleans up, catching each other up on the week.

The walk passes quickly, and you learn things about Lucy like how she had gotten her degree in literature and was a part-time writer working on a novel. The coffee shop was her parents, but they had passed it down to her when they had retired. She's thinking about it passing it down to her little sister when her sister is old enough.

You stare at the ice cream menu for almost 20 minutes, unsure what you want to order, but Lucy is patient and talks about her recommendations. You apologize, but she waves it off.

You end up choosing what she recommends, and you like it, but you're not surprised since Lucy seems to understand your coffee order.

The date is simple.

It's easy, you find.

Talking to Lucy is easy, and she's definitely a beautiful woman.

Even when Lucy slowly reaches for your hand to hold, with a half-shy smile, half-smirk, you let her.

You hear your name.

You turn around to see Wanda standing there, frowning as her eyes pass over your held hand.

"Wanda," you breathe.

The way you say her name, Lucy immediately knows.

But then you're holding Lucy's hand tighter.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks, trying to play it off casually.

"I'm..." you start to say, but the words die on your lips.

"We're on a date," Lucy answers instead, brow raised.

"Date?" Wanda says, looking at you, and you swallow.

That feeling like you're cheating on her comes, but you squash it down because you know you're not.

"Yes," you say firmly. "I'm on a date. I'll see you at work."

With that, you turn, Lucy in hand as you drag her off.

When you're finally far enough, you sigh.

"Sorry," you mumble, feeling awkward.

Lucy shrugs. "You handled it better than I thought you would. I thought you had swallowed your tongue for a moment."

You let out a rough chuckle as you keep walking. The two of you sit on a park bench, enjoying the weather, the ice cream, and each other.

"You're still very much in love with her, not even close to being over her."

Lucy speaks after a moment of silence when the conversation had died.

You look at her, surprised she would bring it up again. She didn't even say it as a posed question. She stated as a fact.

You sigh, "yeah."

"But, you want to move on?" Lucy asks.

You struggle.

"I don't know," you answer finally.

Lucy reaches over to hold your hand again, and you look down.

"Does this feel good?" She asks.

You lick your lips as you stare at your intertwined hands.

"It feels easy," you admit.

Lucy tilts her head but sighs as she pulls her hand away.

"Can I tell you something?"

You nod, unsure.

Lucy looks ahead of her. "I don't think love should be easy. Sure, that would make everything simple. I don't think love should be a constant battle either, but I think we both should get a love that's worth fighting for."

You swallow, looking away.

Because you agree.

It's so easy with Lucy. You know that if you let yourself, you could fall in love with her. It would be easy, and you know there's a simple path ahead of you. You'd know what the next steps would be every time.

With Wanda, it's always hard. It's true, you're not always fighting her, but being with her is not a simple feat.

But you don't know if you want that.

Lucy turns you and kisses you on the cheek swiftly.

"Maybe it's not with me, maybe it is. Maybe it's with your ex, maybe it's not, but there's a great love out there. For both of us. I hope I succeeded in showing you a good time."

You smile at her and nod.

"Thanks," you tell her softly, and although she's not yours, you feel like you're losing her a little. You're losing out on something wonderful, you just know it.

You can't help but blame Wanda a little for that.

"I expect to see you Monday morning for the best coffee ever," Lucy says she stands up, "and a big fat tip."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," you smile at her as she waves at you before leaving.

You stay on the park bench much longer after Lucy left, sighing.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When work comes around Monday, you do as you promised and get coffee at Lucy's, staying the extra minute to chat before you're on your way.

Work is relatively quiet today, Wanda seems tense, and midway through the day, your boss is getting arrested in front of everyone. The executives are taken in custody for questioning, and it will be decided later on who will take over the company.

Everyone is allowed to leave for the day with that, but you decide to stay at the office longer to get work done because you get distracted too easily at home.

It's nearly 2PM when Wanda appears in front of you.

"Hey," she says softly, and you greet her back with a soft grunt in return.

You close your laptop, wanting to take a break as you look at Wanda.

"Looks like you're done your mission. Lucky you, you get to return."

"I'm staying in the area for a little while longer while things are getting wrapped up," Wanda shakes her head.

You merely nod.

But at least you know she won't be showing up at her workplace anymore. You get up, going to the copier room to make some copies of your report for next week.

Wanda follows you, standing at the door and leaning against it slightly with her arm.

"Are you dating her?" She asks bluntly.

And you pause for a moment before you continue with what you're doing.

"It's none of your business," you tell her.

"If you were over me, you would just answer," Wanda answers back, and you snap your head towards her and glare.

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" You grit.

Wanda shakes her head.

"I just want you to tell me if you're dating her," she stands up straighter.

"Why do you even care?" You grumble with a shake of your head.

"Of course I care, I'm in love with you," Wanda says it so easily that it pisses you off.

You accidentally crumble the papers in your hand as you turn to her.

"Wanda," you say very slowly, trying to rein in your temper. "This is already difficult enough for me. You coming back here, even if it's was unintentional, makes this hard for me. I'm a long way from where I was but seeing you just a reminder of how broken I was. How broken we were, and how easy it was for you to move on."

"You don't think this is hard for me too?" Wanda hisses at you as she takes a step closer.

"You don't think me losing the love of my life because of my inability to say the right things at the right time doesn't keep me up at night? I'm a long way from where I was too. I was just as lost as you were. You thought I had moved on, outgrown you, but I was just lost. You can't lie to me and say you weren't frustrated how you felt every day."

"But I didn't turn to anyone else when I felt that way!" You shout at her.

"Vision means nothing to me!" Wanda shouts back at you, throwing her hands in the air. "We just have a commonality between us, which is the stone. I was just learning about the stone."

Wanda conjures up red wisps between her fingers as if to emphasize her point.

And even though you had known that might've been the case, it hadn't hurt any less.

"You can't deny that we're bad for each other," you shake your head.

"I love you," Wanda throws out, and it makes you tense. "I know you're still in love with me too."

"You don't know that," you breathe.

But Wanda walks up closer to you, she gets up in your personal space, her face hovering over yours.

"Then why do you get so affected by seeing me? Your thoughts are a mess, and why do your lips tremble when you breathe my name?"

You glare at her.

"That doesn't mean I'm in love with you. You think I can't kiss other people? That I can't move on from you? Love outside of you exists."

"With Lucy?" Wanda sneers her name. You don't even have to ask that Wanda got her name through reading your mind.

"Why not her?" You challenge.

Wanda stands there, staring at you, her pupils dilating and contracting as she takes you in.

"Then, let's see you if you can run back to her after this."

And before you can say anything, Wanda's thrusting her hands against your jaw into your hair, gripping it familiarly as she slams into your lips with unadulterated passion.

She moves her lips against yours, tilting your head as she backs you against the photocopier.

It hits you so fast and so hard.

The feel of her lips.

Her scent invading your senses.

She tastes like honey and chocolates, and you know she's been eating candy.

She runs her hand through your hair. Her hand eventually reaches the back of your neck, and she holds it to keep you close to her.

It takes the sound of her soft sigh to bring you back to reality, and you push her off you.

You furrow your brows, chest heaving from her kiss.

You look at her, and she's staring at you equally as breathless.

"You're such a fucking asshole," you tell her, shaking your head as you push past her.

You're pissed.

How dare Wanda just...just kiss you like that!

She has no boundaries, no sense of what you're feeling.

You gather your things, glaring at Wanda to not follow you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda sighs.

She fucked up.

She knows she did.

Wanda makes herself some tea at the place she's posted to until she can go home. It was pretty close to the firm for obvious reasons.

She shouldn't have kissed you like that, but it was like this ugly green monster, and the fear of losing you when she saw you with Lucy overwhelmed her.

Wanda had understood what Natasha had told her. She had understood, and let you go on the hopes that the two of you would both grow and be in a better place.

It wasn't easy for Wanda, she felt like this giant hole was created in her when you left.

She wasn't a good girlfriend, and she had to work through that.

Maybe it was premature, but seeing you brought up all the feelings she never left behind.

Wanda looks outside, noticing the day had passed by quickly, and now it was dark out. She looks at the clock and sighs when it's already 11 PM, but Wanda is feeling no closer to being able to sleep.

Wanda knew she was going to need to apologize, that was if you were even willing to talk to her.

She wouldn't be surprised if you decided to quit the firm and moved.

Wanda sighs, rubbing her forehead and temples with her hands.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Wanda turns her head to the door, brow furrowing. The knocking continues until Wanda walks up to open the door.

You push past her and walk into her home.

"You know I had a lot of time to this about this, but what the fuck is wrong you?" You immediately fire off, pacing back and forth.

"You think you can just drop back into my life, even if you didn't mean to, tell me you're still in love with me and kiss me?"

You turn around and glare at her. "Is it crack? Is that what you're smoking? Because who the fuck does that!"

"You had no right to do that, you're such an inconsiderate asshole!"

Wanda frowns, taking the yelling. Your chest is heaving with anger.

"Are you done?" She asks, and you nearly start screaming at her again.

"Did you just come here to yell at me?" Wanda raises her brow.

It's quiet for a moment as you stare at Wanda.

"No," you finally after a moment. "I came to do this."

And suddenly, you're running towards her, jumping as you wrap your legs around her midsection as she's forced to hold you up, slamming your lips down on her.

You kiss her wildly, and Wanda response immediately. You wrap your arms around her neck, kissing her over and over as you tangle your hand in her hair.

Moans are heard, and Wanda is walking, nearly stumbling as she both holds you up and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

She throws you on the mattress.

Chest heaving, but from kissing is a much better image Wanda likes. You sit up, grabbing her hand as you remove her rings and toss them aside, making haste to unbutton her shirt.

And Wanda pulls your shirt over your head.

Her body presses yours down to the bed, hands aligning as she intertwines them.

It feels right.

Wanda is going to make sure she loves you with all her might.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's late into the night, and twilight will come soon. You lie there, breath coming to a steady rhythm as Wanda covers your bare chest with the blanket.

She kisses your shoulder, and you sigh in small contentment.

Under the blanket, you seek her hand out, holding it.

"I'm in love with you still," you confess and Wanda smiles.

"I know."

"But I'm also scared," you tell her, "I'm not really sure if I'm ready for more right now."

"Love is patient," Wanda answers, squeezing your hand.

"How do you know it's the right time for us?" You ask her.

Wanda shifts in the bed, throwing her other hand behind her head.

"I suspect there's no such thing as the right time," she admits, "but I do believe we're both in a better place. The feelings never left. We're both choosing to fight for our own life, choosing to fight for us."

"I don't know if broken people should get second chances," you admit. It's been a ride in therapy, but these thoughts still come.

Wanda turns to you, raising herself onto her elbow.

"Broken people get to heal," she insists firmly. "We're not always broken, and I won't lie and say there won't be cracks, but I love you no matter what. You love me, no matter what. Our cracks are a beautiful reminder that we're fighters. No matter what is revealed when we're under the light, I will fight for you. For me. For us."

You find yourself crying, and Wanda dips down to kiss you tenderly.

"Under the light, you found me."

#mm: my fics #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x OFC #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers au #avengers imagine #marvel reader insert #marvel imagine #marvel au #modern avengers au

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undine-taz · 3 years ago

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5 times Diavolo failed to be a sugar daddy and one time he succeeded

I'm just imagining poor Diavolo trying SO HARD to spoil an MC who is just. Not greedy in the slightest and loves weird little shinies while being totally indifferent to the super crazy expensive gifts he usually gives to people he's trying to woo. Just in case, this is the PUREST OF FLUFF and completely sfw. I can’t even think of any tw to tag??? Let me know if you notice something. Oh, and MC is imagined to be gender neutral. There’s a mention of perfume, but not in the feminine sense- that’s just the proper word for a certain level of scent concentration.

1. Expensive Perfume

Diavolo's first attempt is the most expensive perfume/cologne money can buy

He's not quite sure what MC's favorite scent is, so he buys a wide variety

All the bottles are sleek and minimalistic and the scents inside are VERY obviously expensive, the kind of thing Mammon would probably lose his mind over

MC's reaction is perfectly grateful, they say sincerely how much they appreciate him thinking of them. He doesn't feel a single lie off of them and he walks away mostly satisfied thinking maybe they’re just the type to not show a ton of excitement over gifts

That is, until he's walking down the hallways in RAD and happens to overhear a conversation between Asmo and MC

Asmo's talking about how he's been going through perfume at a record pace lately, and he feel so bad about wasting these beautiful bottles... would MC like them? He has one shaped like a rose, one like a star, one modeled after the cosmos...

Asmo doesn't even get to finish because MC is already flapping their hands in joy (I'm autistic and MC is going to happy stim if it kills me) and wiggling and practically jumping into Asmo's arms in excitement

Asmo's laughing and promising to save all of his prettiest empty perfume bottles for MC from now on and MC is practically wiggling in joy and nuzzling their face into Asmo's chest in happiness

They’re talking about spending the night in Asmo’s room trying to make perfume blends for each other to fill up the bottles and tossing scent ideas back and forth

And Diavolo is sitting there feeling a bit like he's been bonked over the head. Those happy stims are ADORABLE and he wants to be the one who causes them. He's not sure why his perfume failed and Asmo's literal empty bottles worked but he's DETERMINED to try again

2. Fancy gemstones

Diavolo's next attempt is fancy gemstones. He finds large, beautifully cut and processed gemstones, the type that are so perfectly processed they look almost identical except for color

Again, when he gives MC his gifts he can tell that they're sincerely grateful! They tell him they love that he was thinking of them, they worry that he spent too much money on them ( they try to refuse at first because it's too much, but Diavolo breezes past their protests with a smile and an iron will) and Diavolo doesn't sense even the tiniest hint of untruth from their professions of gratitude

But.... there are no happy wiggles, no stunned gasps, no joyously flapping hands, no nothing. Just calm gratitude.

Diavolo goes back to the drawing board, and he's just going to visit the HOL library for inspiration in a rare book (and as an excuse to see MC) when he hears Satan and MC laughing together in the library.

When he walks in, he sees Satan and MC crouched together with some strange tools in their hands, gently chipping away at a large rock. There's a tiny pile of uncut, unprocessed gemstones at MC's elbow.

As soon as MC sees him, he's aflood in a wash of excited chatter as MC tells him about the gemstone mining kit Satan bought after reading a book on gemstones. In fact Diavolo can see the book open at Satan's elbow along with a notebook where the two have been identifying every gemstone they dig up.

Before he knows it, MC seizes his hand and he's drawn into the game, watching their eyes shine and seeing them bounce in their seat with excitement every time they uncover a new gemstone.

Dammit. Another failure. But, Diavolo finds as he watches MC's obvious joy, he can't be too frustrated when they're this happy.

3. Shopping spree at Majolish

Diavolo is undeterred! He takes a day to bring them to Majolish, having them try on outfit after outfit. Sure, they're not picking out very many things, but he loves spending time with them and they say they're enjoying themself.

After several hours, Barbatos gently reminds him that he has a meeting soon and that MC seems absolutely exhausted.

Diavolo pouts, especially when he sees that MC hasn't picked out very many things, but he sighs and concedes.

When he drops them off at the HOL, MC gives him a hug and thanks him for helping them pick out some more formal outfits for any upcoming RAD events. Diavolo accepts the hug gladly, but there's no squeaking or jumping and DEFINITELY no flapping. MC seems rather exhausted, and Belphegor has appeared from nowhere and draped himself over MC and is mumbling about needing a nap buddy and MC isn't even trying to argue

The next day, Barbatos shows him Levi's post on Devilgram. It's a video, of Levi giving MC a plain, unassuming box.

When MC opens the box, their mouth drops open, their eyes go wide, and they fling themselves at Levi, happily nuzzling into his chest and mumbling incoherent thanks while Levi turns bright red and starts stuttering and clearly tries not to combust

The video cuts out for a second and then starts again with MC wearing a simple shirt embroidered with a strange logo, which Levi explains from behind the camera is inspired by MC's favorite series and was handmade by Levi for practice. Levi was apparently asked to design formalwear inspired by anime, and he chose MC's favorite to practice a design. According to the caption, the two spent an entire day together watching the series and sketching ideas!

MC is beaming and happy stimming while Diavolo thumps his head into his desk dramatically and Barbatos elegantly stifles a chuckle behind him.

4. Bouquets of flowers

Well now Diavolo is determined. HE WILL MAKE MC HAPPY STIM IF IT KILLS HIM

HE HAS HIS PRIDE AS THE FUTURE DEMON KING DAMMIT

He begins watching the corniest of romcoms for ideas.

Midway into one of them, he sees the character buy their love interest bouquets upon bouquets of roses

BRILLIANT! He's up and placing orders immediately. Barbatos stays behind for a few minutes to actually watch how this particular ploy works out on screen, before laughing and going to watch the chaos

As dedicated as he is to the young lord, watching Diavolo scramble around trying to impress his first puppy love only to fail because the target of his affections is simply too humble.... well, it's honestly adorable. He'll step in if it goes on for too long, but for now it might actually be good for the young master to experience something he can't have by throwing money or influence at it.

Diavolo has some of the Devildom's finest florists on the horn and he's sending a veritable flood of their finest cut flowers... AND he's sending them from an anonymous source, just like in the movie! The woman in the movie only sent over THREE bouquets to the object of her love, so Diavolo sends 300. Only the best for his MC :)

He's waiting impatiently for the results of his little scheme when he gets an apologetic text from Lucifer saying that he'll be late to the meeting and MC won't be coming at all. Some anonymous admirer sent MC an excessive amount of flowers and the sheer amount of pollen triggered allergies in ALL of the demon bros and MC.

Lucifer needed time to clear out the house and distribute allergy meds to everyone and buy out the nearest store on tissue paper

Barbatos is no longer even bothering to stifle his chuckles while Diavolo buries his face in his arms to hide his shame

To rub salt in the wound, Lucifer tells him a few days later that he set up a miniature greenhouse for MC to grow humanworld herbs in and they've barely left it in the last two days

Lucifer’s been spending most of his free time in the greenhouse with them, helping them tinker with humidity spells and listening to their excited monologues on human gardening techniques

Lucifer is definitely smirking as he tells Diavolo this and Diavolo doesn't bother to ask how Lucifer knew what was going on, because his old friend knows him too well and Diavolo realizes he's not exactly subtle.

What he doesn't realize is that Barbatos is also a dirty dirty snitch and he and Lucifer have been watching over his attempts with a mix of hilarity and pity

5. Desserts

Some might give up, but not Diavolo! His newest ideas is fancy desserts. He was told by a sweet old succubus that the best way to his lover's heart was through the stomach (actually she initially had some far raunchier suggestions that had made Diavolo blush and had given him some ideas for far, FAR in his future relationship with MC, but that's neither here nor there) and so here Diavolo is, placing a giant order at Madame Scream's to be delivered to the HOL.

This time he has learned from his mistakes and he signs it as being from him and addresses it to "MC and the residents of HOL" because even he recognizes there are far too many sweets for a human to eat before they go bad

Barbatos by this point is starting to feel pity and is almost tempted to suggest he wait until it's not Beel's day for Fangol practice to send a giant array of tempting sweets.

Almost. If it weren't for the maid cafe fiasco of last week Barbatos probably would have, but that lace had chafed in areas that should never be chafed.

Diavolo sent his gift only to receive a poorly drawn thank-you card drawn by Beel and signed by everyone at the HOL, including MC, even though "I didn't even get a chance to eat any, BEEL"

This poor man feels his soul leave his body, especially when he returns home from RAD to find Barbatos and MC baking together and singing along to Disney songs (well, MC was singing, Barbatos was simply watching them with a smile and occasionally twisting them into a simple dance to make them laugh and squiggle with joy)

Et tu, Barbatos?

After yesterday's glitter incident, Barbatos has no shame and simply smirks back. He'll help the young lord when he can shower without finding glitter in every crevice.

+1: Tea together

Diavolo is planning his next gift when he gets a message from MC, of all people

His heart flutters, he has butterflies in his stomach, and he hasn't even read it yet!

It's a simple text- "What are you up to?"

Obviously Diavolo can't admit he's shirking paperwork to try and figure out a gift that would make them happy! So he improvises and claims he's working. He gets back a sad face emoji and a simple "Miss you! I feel like we haven't hung out in forever, but I know how busy you are. Good luck, I'm rooting for you!"

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND MC IS TO BLAME

This man is dramatically draped over his desk wailing about how cute MC is.

Luckily for him Barbatos has forgiven him for both the maid cafe incident and the glitter incident and Diavolo has been too distracted trying to plan gifts to cause any new chaos

Barbatos hands him a lovely picnic basket, complete with tea and fancy sandwiches, and tells him to go see MC and take a break since he's clearly not getting any work done as is.

Cue guilty glance to the overwhelming stack of paperwork that's been building up. He swears he's never seen Barbatos place more and yet they keep growing, are they breeding somehow...? Did Lucifer curse him after the taffy incident?

Either way, Diavolo takes the basket and heads off to HOL.

He's either very lucky or (more likely) Barbatos bribed Lucifer into helping him out, as MC is the one to answer the door.

They look kind of down until they see him and he explains he's there to spend time with them, and then they absolutely LIGHT UP.

Before he knows it, they've thrown himself into his arms and they're bouncing in excitement and snuggling him and happy flapping and boyo is confused but OVER THE MOON.

He finally did it!?!?! What was it!?!?! The picnic basket? Do they have a thing for picnics baskets!?!?!

And then he actually tunes in a d listens to their flood of chatter and how happy they are to see him and how much they've missed him and how excited and grateful they are they he took time out of his busy schedule to spend time with him and out in the thought to prepare a way for them to spend time in each other's company...

O H

He is M E L T I N G

He can't believe it was this easy.... no need for fancy gifts or anything like that, just... paying attention to their likes and spending time with them????

Holy shit he is gonna protect this human's smile witH HIS LIFE

And now that he understands them better he can buy EXPENSIVE SHIT THEY'LL ACTUALLY LIKE AND HE'LL GET ALL THE HAPPY SNUGGLES AND JOYOUS STIMMING IN THE WORLD!!!!

Yes, he decides, wrapping his arms around them while trying to keep the basket level

Now that he's gotten a taste of their sincere joy, he's hooked and he's going to make them as excited and happy as this as often as he possibly can.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me one master to rule them all #sfw #fluff #bc Dia is just as starved for a friend #gn!mc

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smutsonian · 4 years ago

Text

f*** being friends

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve is in love with his friend but he doesn't want to ruin their friendship

Warnings: mentions of copulation, making out (it gets heated), jealous steve, awkward steve, lil bit of angst, brief mentions of being bullied (verbally), mentions of game of thrones, i’m hoping for this to be really sweet and fluffy that y’all get diabetes in a healthy way, writing mistakes bby

Characters: Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov, Erik Lehnsher (xmen), Cisco Ramon (the flash)

Word Count: 6.5k yikes

an: i have no idea where those characters came from but they’re there. also, hi! im posting something lmao shocker :o ctto of this picture

masterlist

The supersoldier who woke up in the wrong century would’ve been going through a whole lot of hell alone if it wasn’t for the cute scientist who was considerate and patient with him in helping him adjust to his new surroundings after the time-hopping incident. Fury took him to the tower that was owned by the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist (as he likes to be called) after he tried to run through the streets of the modernized city of New York with his bare feet and that’s where he met her.

The female scientist contrasted Tony Stark so much that it made Steve wonder how Tony even managed to get someone like her to be his assistant scientist. Steve didn’t have to wonder about how you were able to handle Tony because he was a hundred percent sure that you will be able to get along with anyone because you’re… you.

While Tony was an obnoxious guy who likes mocking him, you were nothing but sweet to him. Going out of your way to make him feel comfortable and show him how time has changed the past. You taught him everything he should know and anything he wanted to know and in return, he bestowed you stories from his time before, during, and after the war and the supersoldier serum.

When you told him embarrassing stories about Tony and confessed that you sometimes get vexed by your boss that resulted in you ‘accidentally’ making one of his suits dance crazily while he’s in it, you and Steve shared a laugh and thus, started a genuine friendship.

Tony groans dramatically when he sees Steve giggling at his assistant while they’re making something in the kitchen. He walks over to them and knocks on the counter to catch the pair’s attention before giving them a faux smile. “As much as I love seeing capsicle giggling like a halfwit, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop stealing my assistant. We’re in the middle of discovering what must be the most important information in the world and you’re out here stealing her for shits and giggles.” Tony looks at the captain with a stern look before noticing your dramatic eye roll. “Hey-” he was about to chastise you when you cut him off.

“Tony, learning how to bake chocolate chip cookies isn’t the most important thing in the world but I admire you for asking me for help for the sake of Morgan. But please, stop being so dramatic.” you chuckle at the end of your complaint. Tony bites his lip as Steve looks at you with such fondness without you even noticing it and he doesn’t know if he should feel sorry for the love-struck captain or be annoyed at how stupid and juvenile he was being. Just ask the girl out, goddammit.

You turn to look at Steve before sighing, “Well, duty calls.” you shrug and smile at Steve when he reaches a hand towards your face to fix a stray hair away from your face. You stood frozen, staring at his ocean eyes that were staring right back at you before he started blinking and looked away. “Alright. I’ll see you later?” he asks as he looks back at you and you nod at him with a smile before walking past Tony. Tony rolls his eyes at Steve before pointing at him. “You clearly have it bad for her, cap. Why don’t you do us all a favor and just ask her out?”

Steve gawks at Tony, his face tinting a tiny shade of red before shaking his head. “What are you talking about? We’re just really good friends, Stark. I don’t even want to have this conversation with you.” Steve’s jaw clenches before he too walks out of the kitchen.

Good friends my ass. Tony shakes his head in disbelief, smirking to himself. This is going to be fun.

Some members of the team were in the kitchen, elbows on the counter, and tired out of their minds. Sam has his head on the counter, Natasha was taking a bite out of her sandwich every now and then, and Clint was slurping the milk from his cereal bowl. There was a mission the day before and everyone was showing how much it took a lot out of them.

Y/N was putting whipped cream on top of the iced chocolate drink she made when Steve walked in. His face showed how tired he is but it quickly lightened up when he saw Y/N grinning at him with the iced chocolate. Steve made his way towards her and sat beside her, watching her put colorful sprinkles on the whipped cream before sliding the glass in front of him.

“There ya go! Made with love and all.” she laughs at her own joke and Steve grins at her before taking a sip, earning a mustache made of whipped cream. “So good” Steve closes his eyes as he moans dramatically, making Y/N laugh even more. When Steve looks back at Y/N, she chuckles at him before making a motion towards the space between her nose and her upper lip.

“What?” Steve smiles as he tilts his head to the side.

“Here, let me…” Y/N gets a tissue before leaning towards Steve’s face and gently wiping the whipped cream off his face. God only knows how much I want to kiss his whipped cream covered lips.

Steve stared at her face, heart fluttering at the closeness of her face and gulps when he sees her looking back at his eyes. Those eyes will be the death of me. I wonder if she’ll look at me like that when I’m giving it to her good.

He watches as her eyes flutter towards his lips and then back to his eyes before he’s leaning closer to her face, his lips almost brushing against hers. Fuck.

A bang interrupted them and they quickly pulled away from each other, awkwardly trying to compose themselves. Bucky seats beside Sam who was glaring at him. “You just have to stroll in here, you armless shithead.”

“Not cool, dude.” Clint chuckles before dumping his bowl at the sink. Natasha just sighs before taking another bite off her sandwich.

Y/N’s ears perked up when Sam’s words registered to her brain. Armless shithead.

She turns to look at Bucky before cursing under her breath. “Oh gosh, Bucky. I’m so sorry! Your arm reattachment scheduled this morning completely slipped out of my mind. Oh god. I’ll bring it up here now. Just give me a sec.” Y/N stumbles out of her chair, earning a concerned look from Steve who held his hand out just in case the fidgeting scientist falls. Y/N successfully runs out of the kitchen unharmed, leaving two supersoldiers confused.

“What’d I do?” Bucky asks Sam who just shakes his head at him. Nat did the same thing as Sam did when Bucky turned to look at her. Steve still stared at the door that Y/N left in, thinking about how he almost kissed her and realizing how stupid he was. He could have ruined their friendship right then and there. She was so jumpy and awkward right after too. She probably got spooked by his actions.

“Why the constipated face, capsicle.” As if he wasn’t suffering enough, Tony enters the kitchen with a smug smile. “Barnes ruined his chances of kissing the little scientist.” Sam scoffed as Bucky gasped. “Oh shit. Sorry, punk. I didn’t know you were making moves already. Thought you would never do it. Sorry for ruining the moment. You’ll get—” Bucky’s teasing words were cut off by Steve’s booming voice. “Will you all just stop it?! We’re just friends. Stop pushing it. I don’t see her that way so please, just stop. We’re friends and that’s that.” Just as Steve’s speech was ending, a flustered Y/N walked in with a huge box. She walks over to Bucky and starts fumbling with his arm.

Steve curses under his breath as he realized that she just heard his ‘confession’ and it’s not exactly what he wanted her to know. It’s exactly the contrary to what he’s feeling. He wants to be more than just her friend but he didn’t have the guts to do something about it. He also didn’t want to ruin the beautiful friendship that they already have. Relationships are too complicated and he couldn’t risk losing you just because of his stupid feelings.

“There! All done!” Y/N smiles at Bucky and Steve finds himself yearning for her to smile at him like that every-fucking-time. Bucky thanks her and winks at her that made Steve’s insides boil with something he didn’t have an idea about. Y/N picks the box up before walking over to Tony who was standing beside Steve. Right before she gets in front of Tony, she slips and before she knew it, her face was falling down the floor- only to be stopped mid-air as firm arms found their way to her waist and her shoulders.

She was hoisted up and was met with Steve’s face just inches away from hers. “I got you.” Steve smiles.

Y/N coughed and pulled herself away, making Steve’s smile flutter ever so slightly. “Umm, thanks. I gotta get back to work.” She smiles at him before turning towards Tony and starting a topic about their current topic about using vibranium as something he didn’t have an idea about. He sighed in disappointment as he realized how he managed to fuck up his friendship with her by trying to preserve it. How does that even happen to someone?

“Is it just me or does the supersoldier serum affect the brain badly?” Sam pipes up after Y/N leaves the room to go back to the lab. Bucky elbows his ribs in response while Tony laughs at Sam’s words.

“It’s just Steve who’s being an idiot. Don’t drag me into his lack of brain cells” Bucky muttered under his breath. Tony pats Steve on his shoulder before leaning up to his ear to whisper something.

“Just friends, huh?”

Steve was nervous that you would bail on your weekly movie nights with him in his room where the two of you will watch movies that he missed while he was frozen. His nerves were getting the best of him until you knocked on his door only to greet him with a huge smile and arms full of snacks that were almost covering your face. “Movie night?” Steve swore that your giddy voice sounded like angels singing.

Steve felt his heart flutter at the sight before shaking his head back to reality and easily grabbing the snacks out of your arms and setting it down on the foot of his bed. You skipped over to the bed and plopped yourself on it before looking at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

“So… What are we watching tonight?” The anticipation in your voice made Steve smile before scratching the back of his neck.

“Can we continue the game of thrones?” He asks and Y/N thought that him blushing was the cutest thing in the world so she couldn’t do anything but to nod. I mean, how could anyone say no to that face?

You opened up a bag of chips while Steve tinkered with the tv attached to the wall in front of the bed. As the opening song started playing, Steve hopped on the bed beside you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn before laying on his back beside you and scooched closer to you. You smiled at that and laid your head softly on his shoulder which he seemed to like because he chuckled before stealing a piece of chip in your bag. You playfully glared at him as he only booped your nose in return, laughing when some powder from the chips were left on the tip of your nose. He leaned closer to your face, pausing for a while before blowing the powder residues on your nose. You felt your heart skip for a moment before turning back to the tv as the show continued to play.

The room was dark with only the tv being the source of light but it’s enough for you to watch Steve’s every reaction to the show that you’ve already watched yet willing to rewatch it as long as it was with Steve. He was in one of the earlier episodes where Danaerys was betrothed to Khal Drogo. The tv was playing the scene where Danaerys’ handmaid was teaching her how to make love to Drogo. Your body warmed up at the scene, remembering how graphic this series can be and turned slowly to see Steve’s reaction. You expected him to be fidgety and awkward but he seemed to be really focused at the tv screen so you turned your head back towards the screen and continued to watch.

Steve was trying his best to not have a panic attack right then and there. The scene was making him flustered and the effects of it were going straight to his crotch. He saw you move your head to watch his reaction but he did his best to act nonchalant and he was so relieved when you looked away from him that he almost cried. He thanked all the gods when the scene ended but his eyes widened when the screen showed Khal Drogo entering the tent butt naked and heading straight to Danaerys. When the man started ramming into her, Steve knew that he was fucked.

Y/N nostrils flared in embarrassment as she watched the screen as it showed a very erotic scene. She turned her head sneakily to see Steve’s reaction once again but was surprised to see that he was already looking at her, their faces just an inch apart.

She looked at Steve’s eyes and was shocked to see that they were darker than usual, pupils dilated and his breathing erratic. She stared at him for a brief second before asking if he’s okay, genuinely concerned for the supersoldier.

“Steve, are you ok—” Y/N thought that she could’ve died right then and there when Steve closed the space between their lips and kissed her hungrily. Steve’s lips were so soft against her and when he plunged his tongue into her mouth, she almost came right then and there. This was how she’s deeply, madly, and hopelessly in love with the man.

Steve couldn’t explain the feeling he felt when she kissed him back. He could almost hear the wedding bells ringing when she moved her hands to caress both sides of his face. He placed the bowl of popcorn beside her head before placing his hands on her waist, easily manipulating her body so he was on top of her as he continued to kiss her lips like a starved animal.

Steve felt her hands traveling up to his hair as she arched her back. Steve’s eyes went to the back of his head when she felt her grinding against his hard-on and he was thankful that her mouth was on his so she was able to swallow his moans. He responded by grinding his hips down against hers, earning a tug on his hair and a whine from her lips that made his eyes snap open in shock. Shit.

Steve stumbled as he quickly pulled away from her, knocking the popcorn by her head off the bed and making popcorn scatter all over the floor. “Shit” Steve looks at the mess on the floor and back to you, lips plumper after his assault. “Shit” he says again. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers. “Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry! I didn’t—” He cuts himself by cursing at himself again and again.

Y/N pushes the hurt she’s feeling at the moment. What was he about to say? That he didn’t mean any of it to happen?

She places a hand on Steve’s left cheek and it seemed to immediately calm him down. “Breathe, Steve. It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” You smile at him which he returns sadly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I was just… I don’t know what got into me.” Steve stuttered, almost crying. That’s not how he wanted it to come out.

Y/N looks at Steve with a faux smile. Ouch. Saw that one coming but it still hurt like a motherfu—

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Steve shakes his head.

Y/N gives Steve an understanding nod. And here I thought things couldn’t get uglier.

“I mean… I don’t want to ruin what we have. Our friendship, I mean. I love being friends with you and I love what we have and I don’t want to ruin that because of me.” Steve tries to explain. Keyword: tries. “I mean you’re obviously the most gorgeous person in the world but I don't want to lose what we have just because of a kiss or a ruined relationship, do you get what I’m saying?” Steve looks at you hopefully. Clearly, he’s not very good at explaining things but you nod nonetheless.

“I totally understand. I mean… I’ll be more than fine to try things out with you but I understand where you’re getting from. I wouldn’t want to lose what we have either. I guess being friends is the best idea for you.” Steve flinches at your words. Your tone was sweet but your words were hurting him and it’s his own fault too so that just frustrated him even more.

“How about we forget about what just happened and stay as good friends, deal?” Y/N gives him a friendly smile. How the hell is he supposed to just forget about what happened. That was easily the best thing that’s happened in his life and he drove the woman he loves the most to tell him to just forget about it.

“Deal.” Steve smiles. I am a fucking idiot. I managed to put myself in the ‘friendzone’.

Y/N nods and starts to head for the door before looking over her shoulder towards Steve.

“Goodnight, Steve.” And then she was gone.

Steve’s smile fell and he turned around to study the mess left behind. Popcorn all over the floor, game of thrones playing on the screen, and a very hard cock under his pants.

Fuck

That was it for Steve. He knew he fucked everything up when he barely saw you and talked to you anymore. When you no longer made him the usual iced chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles that you always made him, it broke his heart. But what really broke his heart is when you started skipping out on your movie nights with him. He’s beginning to think that you’re spending extra hours in the lab with Tony just to avoid him and it did horrible things to his heart. Y/N cursed at the turn of events. She hated how the movie night incident turned out but she was ready to make things go back to normal but of course, Tony decided to overload her with work. She didn’t blame him though. They were at the peak of their research and they’re almost done with it and Tony wouldn’t stop until they finished. Y/N stayed to help her mentor/boss until they got to finish the work. She couldn’t deny the fact that she too is excited about the outcome of the research so she kept herself busy.

She saw how it affected Steve though. She saw how his face would light up every time he would catch her taking quick snacks in the kitchen but she would watch that handsome smile disappear from his face when she waved at him to say goodbye and run back to the lab just to continue on her work. She knew that Steve being Steve, he would blame himself for it so she made a little bit of time to explain how things are currently hectic in the lab.

Steve felt a little bit of weight lifted from his shoulders when she approached him after training one afternoon. She handed him his shield as she talked about a few changes and improvements she did here and there. He was so happy that she was finally talking to him again that he couldn’t help but just admire the way her lips moved and her eyes looked at him with a glint of excitement as she talked about his shield.

“Steve?” Her smooth voice brought him back to reality and he smiled at her adoringly, patting her shoulder awkwardly before thanking her for the improvements she did on his shield. “I just want to point out that I’m not avoiding you.” Y/N bit her upper lip as she looked at Steve shyly. Steve thought that she could never be more adorable than this.

“Tony and I are working on this research and we’re both really working our asses off. We’re so hellbent on finishing the research so we’re always working on it over time. I just… I don’t want you to think that I’m avoiding you.” She finished with a breath.

Steve looked down at her, processing her words before breaking off into a grin. He leaned down to give her a hug which she gladly returned before pulling away. Steve cursed at himself for immediately missing the way she felt against him.

Steve lets out a loud sigh before smiling at her. “Thank, god. I thought I scared you away.”

“Never” she grinned before looking down at her wristwatch. “Well, I gotta head back to the lab” she gives him a smile before offering him a handshake, saying “Friends?”

Steve bit the insides of his cheeks as he remembered the position he put himself in.

He gripped her small hand with his big ones before nodding. “Friends.”

Y/N thought that the day she and Tony get to finish their research would never come but here’s Tony now, planning a party for the achievement. He’s also telling you something about introducing and showing you off to an old friend of his that he invited. Max Eisenhardt, you heard Tony say. He was a fellow scientist who specialized in magnets and Tony can’t wait to show him your research about vibranium.

Steve finds Y/N in the kitchen a few hours before the party starts, making her famous iced chocolate milk. “Do my eyes deceive me or is that my most favorite chocolate drink in the world?” Steve walks over to her, placing his elbows on top of her head before placing his chin on them. “Congratulations on finishing the research, Y/N. I’m really proud of you.” He sincerely says and he watches her duck under his arms and looks at him with a playful smile. “Thank you, Steve.” She makes a move to fix her hair before looking back at the glass. “And yes. This is your favorite drink” she winks at him.

“Well, not to be presumptuous or anything but… is it for me?” Steve bites his bottom lip as she pretends to think about it before nodding. “Of course, it is! It’s been so long since I made you one so I figured I’ll make you one before the party starts.” She grins at him before handing him the glass which he gleefully takes before drinking it, not minding the whipped cream that stained his nose and his lips.

Steve’s heart leaps in joy when he hears her laugh at him before handing him a towel. “Clean yourself up, captain. I’ll see you later at the party.” She waves at him before leaving the kitchen. Steve would’ve preferred it if she was the one wiping his face but he settled with cleaning his face on his own.

You settled on wearing black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a pair of black flats. Tony mentioned something about introducing you to his scientist friends so you figured that a formal attire would suffice. You were barely starting on fixing your hair when Tony barged in. He took a quick look at you before smirking and dragging you out of your room and into the elevator.

“What the hell, Mr. Stark. I wasn’t done—”

“You already look amazing. Cap will definitely lose it.” Tony smirks at you and before you could even say something, the elevator door opens. He gently pushes you out of the elevator before pulling you towards a middle-aged man who smiled at you immediately when he saw Tony dragging you towards him.

“That’s Max Eisenhardt” Tony whispers to your ear before pushing you towards the guy. You stopped yourself from falling onto Max and he was nice enough to steady you by placing both of his hands on your arms. “You okay?” He gently spoke with an accent you couldn’t quite name.

Y/N cursed at Tony in her mind for putting her in this situation. She manages to give the man a smile before nodding flusteredly. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Max. I’m Y/N. Mr. Stark’s lab assistant.” Y/N offered a hand for him to shake but he quickly shook his head.

“No need for formalities. Call me Erik or Magneto.” He reached for your outstretched hand and pulled on it until you fell onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around you before chuckling and pulling away. You gave him an awkward smile before nodding and sneakily walking away when he and Tony started talking about magnets and whatnot.

Steve’s blood boiled when he watched the interaction between one of Tony’s friends who calls himself Magneto and Y/N. The way he shamelessly grabbed you and flirted with you made Steve think of horrible things on how to dismantle a man’s arm. He hated this feeling. He was so sure that he’s jealous. He knows that he’s jealous.

Tony somehow managed to push you towards Magnet—or was it Magneto? Max? Erik?— every time he would find you hiding from the guy and you managed to sneak away every time as well. He seemed like a really nice man but he could learn a thing or two about taking hints. She politely rejected him five times already and he still hasn’t given up yet. Y/N just have another guy in her mind and possibly her heart so she couldn’t be bothered by any other person. She’s got eyes on Steve and him alone.

Steve felt so proud and giddy whenever you would politely dismiss this Magneto guy’s advances on you. He would watch as you would shake your head with a smile before leaving the guy. He enjoyed watching the guy get rejected over and over again but at the same time, he hated seeing you so uncomfortable.

Steve couldn’t do anything but watch as Tony introduced you to a bunch of other threats scientists. He was doing his best to remain calm but when he saw you smiling and getting cozy with one of the younger scientists, he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t do anything and he didn’t have the right to be jealous so what the hell would he do? He also couldn’t just stay and watch as another guy wins her heart.

Steve settled on ditching the party.

“Y/N, is that you?” A familiar yet strange voice spoke up from behind her as she was ducking behind a wall, avoiding a certain scientist.

Y/N felt like the angels above blessed her when she saw a familiar face when she turned to look at where the voice came from. “Cisco?! Is that really you?” The smaller man with long hair nodded while grinning at her. He spread his arms to his sides before saying, “The one and only!”

Y/N couldn’t help but squeal and jump on her heels as she jumped into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could. She knew Cisco from freshman year in college up until they got their own jobs in very well known industries. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!”

The two continued to talk and catch up with each other’s lives until a point where Cisco bid his friend farewell saying something about needing to be home for his family.

Y/N tries to look for the one person she wants to be with but fails to see his face at the party so she decides to look for him at the compound before a certain Magnet named scientist comes for her again.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Y/N groans as she closes Steve’s door. She frowned at him before asking, “Why’d you leave the party?”

Steve closed his eyes before letting out an exasperated sigh. “The atmosphere was becoming a little too much for me” he gives her a cheeky smile, patting the spot beside him on the bed. Y/N happily plops herself down beside him before nodding. “Yeah. Tony’s really good at being too much with his parties. Also, I think his friend got mad at me”

Steve frowned at that. “Magneto?” his face reddens when he sees her watching him, probably wondering how he knew the scientist. She’s probably thinking how much of a creep I am and how I was watching her the whole time.

Much to Steve’s relief, she chuckles under her breath before shaking her head. “So that’s his name! I understand why he got so annoyed now!” Y/N laughs and Steve just watches her with a smile on his face.

“Why? What happened?” Steve asks, praying to god that no asshole tried to hurt you. “I kept calling him Magnet instead of Magneto...” Y/N watches Steve as he lets out a laugh, his eyes closing, and little wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes. Why is he so beautiful?

“Tony seemed determined to push that guy to me though…” Y/N stares off into the distance and Steve managed to get all the confidence he could get to ask. “Seems like he was trying to set you up with a lot of his scientist friends.” he chuckles but it was so dry, he was scared that she might see how annoyed he was with the idea.

Y/N tilts her head and looks at him with furrowed eyebrows and at that moment, Steve felt his heartache for not having the guts to just ask the woman in front of her out. How can she manage to make his heart feel like this every single time?

“What do you mean? Magneto’s the only guy he’s setting me up with” Y/N’s voice cuts Steve's internal battle with himself.

“What about that guy with the long hair… I think his name was Cisco?” Steve pretends to not know his name but in all honesty, he’d done every research on the guy as soon as he got to his room.

“Oh! Cisco!” Y/N’s face lights up at the mention of her friend’s name and Steve felt his heart break a little at her excitement. “He’s an old friend from college. He’s a very nice guy.” Y/N starts and Steve prepares himself for the heartbreak that’s inevitable.

“We were both freshmen and I used to get bullied by this group of guys. You would think that being in college would stop all the stereotypes and all that but no. These guys would always torment me just because they can but then Cisco, I didn’t know him yet, stood up for me. Even though he was much smaller than the guys and is completely outnumbered, he still fought them and instead of me being bullied, it was us two getting all the torment. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.” Y/N laughs at the end of her story, remembering the event in her mind.

Steve’s blood boiled at the thought of people bullying you. If there is anything that he hates the most, it was bullies. As much as he tried to hate this Cisco friend of yours, he genuinely sounds like a nice guy. Kind of reminds him of himself.

“I can’t believe how we both turned out to be. We’re both scientists now but it looks like he’s doing much better than I am.” Y/N looks down and shakes her head with a smile.

“What do you mean? If you ask me, I think you’re doing a hell of a job!” Steve’s voice cracks a little and he couldn’t help but blush as Y/N looks up at him with a smirk.

“I know. I’m working for Tony Stark, for goodness sake. It’s just Cisco is living the complete package of adulthood. Being married, having kids, and all that.” Y/N sighs, standing up from the bed before moving towards the door.

Oh… Oh!

Steve stood up from the bed as fast as he could, walking towards her with determination.

“Woah, Steve. I’m just going to get some snacks—” Y/N stops talking as Steve pulls out a small velvet box from his slacks and hands it to her.

“I uhh… Congratulations on the research, Y/N. I’m really proud of you.” he guides her hands to open the box, revealing a vintage necklace with a scarlet gemstone.

“Steve… You honestly didn’t have to.” Y/N admires the necklace before running her fingers against the red stone. Steve takes the necklace and moves to stand behind her. “May I?” He asks her to which she quickly nodded.

Steve stared at Y/N and admired how she managed to look ethereal with or without the necklace. “You know… I bought that necklace for you a few months after I met you.” This was it. Steve couldn’t keep his feelings from her anymore. He might regret it later but at least he got to tell her how he really feels.

“You did?” Y/N whispers under her breath as she looks up at Steve when he tilts her chin up with his fingers.

“When you were tasked to babysit me, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how you were so understanding. The way you were so patient with me. The way your eyes lit up each time you would tell stories about something you’re passionate about.” Steve gulps before continuing, “I knew I was fucked when you laughed at one of my lame jokes. I remember how angelic your voice sounded and how everything seemed to disappear and all I could see was your face.”

Y/N stared at Steve with hooded eyes. It felt like she was in a dream. She watched how his eyes glossed and watched him breathe through his lips before he leaned closer to her, lips barely touching.

“What about being friends?” Y/N watches him as he bites his bottom lip.

“Fuck being friends” he breaks the distance and kisses her with determination. One of his hands finds its way to her back while the other cradles her face, pulling her closer to him as if he didn’t want any space between them.

Y/N’s hands find their way towards the back of his neck, pulling him closer with the same determination. They didn’t pull away from each other until they needed to breathe.

Steve goes back in for another kiss, guiding her back to the bed and positioning himself on top of her.

Their night was just getting started and wouldn’t end any time soon.

Steve stared at you while you peacefully slept beside him. You looked otherworldly wearing nothing but the necklace he gave to you, rays of sunshine hitting parts of your skin, and his blanket laying on top of your body. He decided then and there that he will always want to wake up to this view. He wants to wake up every day with you beside him. He smiled at the idea.

His cheeks tinted red when he remembered how you looked on top of him and how you looked under him. How you became breathless because of him and how your body squirmed under his touch. Just the thought of you makes his cock spring back to life. It doesn’t help that you’re currently staring at him with a small smile and tired eyes.

“You’re awake!” Steve breathes out, eyes widening a little.

“Good morning to you too” Y/N chuckles at Steve's reaction before turning to look at the ceiling.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Steve leans down to kiss your lips, then your nose, and then your forehead. You smile up at him before kissing his lips.

“So we’re not friends anymore?” Y/N raises an eyebrow at him before giving him a cheeky smile.

“I want to do this the right way.” Steve watches Y/N tilt her head in confusion.

“Let me take you out on a date,” Steve asks.

“I think you got your sequence a bit mixed up, Steve.” Y/N grins and Steve retorts with showering her face with kisses making her giggle under him.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll go on a date with you on one condition.” Y/N straightens up before staring at him seriously.

“Anything” Steve responds immediately.

“I’ll go on a date with you if you agree to become my boyfriend” Y/N gives him a toothy smile.

“I will gladly be your boyfriend… I guess I’m not the only one who got the sequence of dating all messed up, huh?” Steve teases her and she just laughs in return, taking Steve’s dress shirt from the floor and putting it on. It was big on her so it fell just above her knees and she rolled the huge sleeves up to her forearms.

Steve admires her in his clothes. Another view that he would always want to see. He stands from the bed only to pull her body on top of him as he lays back on the bed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.” Steve’s voice was deep and sincere and he loved how her body responded to his voice.

“I’ll only leave you when you no longer want me but I’ll still be there to watch over you. I’ll always be there when you need me.” Steve turned her body around so now they were chest to chest.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Y/N watches Steve as he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“I will never not want you. Besides, I got it bad for you just as you got it bad for me.” Y/N leans her face closer to his, pressing her forehead against his.

“How do you know that?” Steve smiles as he looks at her lips before looking back at her eyes.

“Because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go as well.” Y/N grins before pressing a kiss on his lips and him immediately responding to the kiss by pulling her body closer to his. A kiss that sealed their relationship because they were no longer just friends.

#steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers oneshot #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america fluff #captain america smut #captain america x reader #friends to lovers

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ffwriterbts · 4 years ago

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Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 2

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! I’m also looking for a beta reader or two for this story, if you’re interested in that! Just shoot me a message or leave a comment and I’ll get in touch!

Word Count: 2455

Warnings: None

Posted: 12 Dec 2020

Masterlist

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Eventually YN fell asleep, but she couldn’t remember when. When she woke up, however, she was laying down, with the wolf’s massive head resting on her stomach. Absently, she strokes the soft fur around his ears, sighing and curling into the blanket. She can’t help but love the feeling of it between her fingers, smiling to herself as she thinks semi-clearly about the events of the night for the first time.

YN is completely shocked by the events thinking about them now. This giant wolf not only understands her, but he talks back. He was comfortable in her home, the doors were big enough to take him in easily, and he was oddly sweet, in making her finish the chicken. And to top it all off, he was severely injured! Taking a quick glance at the bandages, YN has a passing wonder as to how much healing the wolf had done overnight.

Quite suddenly, the wolf lets out a short growl, and YN jumps. The massive head lifts, looking her in the eye, her hand still tangled in the fur behind his ears. It seems like forever that the two stare at each other, eyes locked, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

He breaks the intense eye contact, turning his great head and yawning before standing. YN watches in awe as the wolf stretches, careful of his injury, before he turns back to look at her expectantly.

‘Eat?’

The voice, low and clear and much less pained, startles the girl into motion.

“Yes of course, let me make you some meat. How’s beef sound? I’ve still got a lot of that in the fridge.” YN stands, quickly clearing the blankets and pillow from the ground. Hearing no clear objections, YN heads into the kitchen, ready to prepare enough food to feed an army.

She doesn’t pay too much attention to where the wolf is or what he is doing, but she can feel his eyes following her from one place to the other, and she can feel the draft from the door that he had nudged open. Quietly, she explains what she’s doing to the wolf, wanting him to be comfortable.

She couldn’t have explained why she felt the need to tell the wolf everything she was doing, but for some reason she felt that it was important that this wolf trusted her.

It is because of this that YN is in the middle of explaining why she prefers to use one seasoning brand over the other when the wolf lets out an ear-shatteringly loud howl. She flinches so hard she almost spills the cooking meat, hands flying to cover her sensitive ears as she whips around to find where the wolf is and what he’s doing.

The great wolf, his beautiful black coat shining in the morning light, is standing just outside her back door, eyes gliding over the trees as he lets out another howl, his face turning up to the sky. He looks like he is waiting for a response, and YN can tell that he got one when his head snaps sharply to the left of the small path YN loved to take.

Quite suddenly, the wolf turns around, padding back into the house and partially shutting the door behind him. He leaves enough room that he could stick his nose or paw into the crack and open it if he needed to, giving himself an out. YN lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the wolf returns to lazily lying in a patch of sun in the kitchen, his attention fully on YN and her movements while she makes the food. For whatever reason, she didn’t want the wolf to leave just yet.

~~~

The rest of the morning and the afternoon go well, with no hitches or startles. YN quickly falls into the habit of telling the wolf all the things she’s doing, not wanting him to be startled by anything she’s doing, and the wolf just watches her, not reacting much to what she does, and instead occasionally bumping his head into her hand for a light scratch behind the ears.

When YN changed his bandage after they ate, she was shocked to see how much he had healed. While the wound was still clearly very tender, it looked like it had been healing for weeks or months instead of just a few hours. YN shook it off, deciding that it was just some strange ability this even stranger wolf had. It had been shown to her clearly before this point that he was special in more ways than one, so why not have accelerated healing?

After the bandages were changed, and YN told the wolf just how well he was healing, the pair went back into the living area. YN took a seat on the lovely leather couch her uncle had left her, taking her usual seat and telling the wolf that he could come up if he wanted and was able. With a small noise that YN couldn’t place, the wolf clambered onto the sofa, laying his great head in her lap again.

Without a second thought, YN turns on the TV and absently begins to stroke the fur around the wolf’s ears, relaxing at the repetitive motion and mindless noise. Together, they sit like that for a few hours, both of them resting and healing and mulling over the events that had happened to both of them.

~~~

There they stayed, for a long while, both half asleep and mulling over the events of the past 24 hours. YN was slowly coming to terms with everything that had been happening around her, with all of the weird things this strange, inky wolf could do. Absently, she wondered what else the wolf could do, and if the fanciful bedtime stories her uncle used to tell her were actually true.

The wolf seemed to be resting peacefully, seemingly completely unaware of the turmoil swirling around in YN’s head. The wolf was just waiting, wondering when the rest of his pack would get there, and what the determination about YN would be. He knew that, despite his growing fondness for the strange human, if the rest of the pack didn’t share his liking for her, he would be forced to do things he would rather not do.

When the door bursts open, YN might as well have jumped completely out of her skin. When before there was relative silence and peace, the room now had an unknown number of bodies snarling and pawing around. YN was understandably terrified, not having any idea as to what was going on or how that would affect her.

The black wolf that she had been sharing her home with for the past day rose to his feet, eyeing up the other wolves that had entered the room. YN could feel the tension as the black wolf snarled, snapping as the other wolves did the same. All she could think about were the sharp, gleaming teeth and huge bodies around her in a way that was almost suffocating.

Fear was rolling off the girl in waves, to the point that the wolves all were put on edge, looking for a threat deserving of that great amount of terror.

It takes a couple minutes, but eventually all the bodies in the room calm down. YN gets off the couch and heads towards the kitchen, giving herself the illusion of an escape that puts her mind at ease. At this point, she is able to see that a beautiful grey wolf and two light brown wolves have joined the black wolf she had opened her home to.

Her living area is filled with the sounds of the wolves “talking” to each other, which YN decides not to break until there is a reason to.

‘Who are you?’

Once again, the voice is directly in YN’s head, but this time it isn’t the black wolf. It seems to be coming from the grey wolf, but YN couldn’t be sure of that.

“I’m YN, I moved in a few months ago. My uncle left me the house when he passed.” She answers simply, eyes flitting between the new wolves as “her” wolf comes to stand beside her. There seems to be some sort of silent communication going on between them that YN isn’t privy to, though she feels that it’s important for some reason she can’t place her finger on.

‘Niece? Good.’

The same voice is in her head, and the fierce look in the eyes of the wolves fades into a softer, more general one. YN is confused by the statement, and the actions, remaining on edge, awkwardly shifting on her feet.

“So, uh, do you guys want some of the beef I made earlier? I don’t know how far you guys have gone or have yet to go but food’s always a good idea, right?” YN can feel her ears burning with an unknown embarrassment, as she looks between all of the wolves before her.

One of the light brown wolves yelps and heads towards YN, who puts her hands up on instinct, fear rising in her chest that she was going to be the one on the menu. Instead of attacking her through, the massive animal licks her palms, yelping some more as the word ‘eat’ is exclaimed into her mind.

Letting out a little giggle and petting the massive head before her, YN is put more at ease, smiling as she turns and walks into the kitchen properly.

“Well, I’m not quite sure how I’ll do this, because I only have one of these big bowls and there are four of you here, but I’ll figure it out.” YN muses to herself, again telling the wolves everything she’s doing so they don’t think she’s up to something, completely unaware of the fact that each and every one of the wolves in her home can read every one of her thoughts with complete and utter ease.

“Oh! I have a baking sheet! I can just put it on there and you guys can share, yeah?” YN asks, dropping to her knees to rustle through a cabinet and find the baking sheet in question. Hearing no complaints, YN prepares the meat for the wolves, placing it carefully on the floor, holding onto one corner so it wouldn’t slide around on them. The two brown wolves quickly move to take tentative bites, the more playful of the two occasionally tossing his head over towards YN to receive a few scratches before returning to his eating.

Once they finish, YN takes and dutifully cleans all the dishes she had made that day, ears straining to make sure she wouldn’t be attacked from behind, but yet trusting them enough to turn her back to them. She sings softly as she works, playful kid songs that she used to sing with her grandparents as she did her chores, inadvertently playing those loving memories for the wolves in her room as she does so.

By the time she has finished with her chores, she turns to find the black wolf asleep directly behind her in a nice patch of sun, the grey wolf is carefully watching her actions from the corner of the room, and the two brown wolves laying further away, also having found nice patches of sun to lay in. YN smiles to herself, finding the sight of the wolves lounging in her space oddly sweet, before stepping over the black wolf, crouching down beside the great beast, giving him a few soft pets to partially rouse him, waiting for his eyes to open before letting him know that she would be checking his wounds and changing his bandages.

She could feel the shift in tone as the great wolf let out a bit of a whine as the bandages come off, the others perking up a bit to watch what YN was doing, immediately ready to jump to his defense if she were to try to hurt the wounded wolf any more.

Weary of the eyes on her, YN sets about making sure that she has everything she needs to clean the wound and change the bandages with as little pain to the wolf as possible.

“Alright wolf, this is the part that stings, I’m so sorry.” She mutters under her breath as she does what has to be done, impressed by the amount of healing that’s been done already.

“At this rate, you’ll be good to go by late tonight or early tomorrow morning.” YN sighs, taking the old bandages and throwing them out, before turning towards the wolves again.

Checking the time, YN shakes her head and explains to the wolves that she is going to go to the study and write, as that’s what she usually does during this time, and that they are welcome to come with her if they want to. Turning on her heel, she heads towards the study on the second floor, fully expecting the wolves to either leave, or to just stay where they were. She really did have work to get done, regardless of the strange wolves that seemed way too comfortable in her space. Deadlines were deadlines, and she really didn’t want to have to crunch out a crap chapter for her editor, regardless of everything going on around her.

What YN didn’t expect was for the black wolf to follow right behind her, limping slightly as he goes, but following nonetheless. Or for the two brown wolves to half-bark at each other, following behind their inky counterpart much more playfully, bumping into each other in a way that YN would have said must have been painful. Or for the grey wolf to follow behind them, much more somber than the duo in front of him, moving smoothly and surprisingly silently through the house.

“You do know there’s no sun to lay in, the study is the innermost room. Please don’t mess anything up, if you can help it, the study is my private place, really.” YN speaks much softer than she had been, causing the wolves to pay more attention to her words than before, feeling the importance of them.

She opens the door, smiling to herself at the sight of the beautiful old books, the scattered journals, the overstuffed-and-ancient chairs, the slightly dusty paintings on the walls from artists YN couldn’t hope to know, the soft lighting, everything. It was comforting, but packed full of memories, some of which were still too painful and fresh to think of.

YN heads over to the giant desk, opening her laptop and settling into the seat. She was aware of the four pairs of eyes that followed her movements, and she similarly followed theirs as they each found areas to curl up in. The grey wolf stayed by the door, facing it as if to make sure nobody tried to come in. The two brown wolves circled around the room a bit, before settling down by the overstuffed couch against one of the walls, both of them moving around periodically. Something in the back of YN’s mind told her that they were young, restless in a way that gave away their age.

It was the black wolf, however, that captured most of YN’s attention. He decided to place himself directly behind the huge desk chair, similarly positioned to the grey wolf, in the way that he seemed to be there for some sort of protection. She thought it was strange, the way these giant wolves were being so gentle, so protective.

They settle in like that, with YN quickly getting immersed in the chapter she needed to finish, words flowing out of her in a way that made her feel almost buzzed. She loved that feeling- the feeling of creating, of making something out of nothing and breathing life into something so dead as a piece of paper or a computer screen.

The whole scene was peaceful, in her opinion. She felt protected, she had ideas flowing out of her, and despite the fact the desk and it’s accompanying chair were both way too big for her and a little uncomfortable, she absolutely adored the study and all it had to offer. For whatever reason, it felt to her like home- the wolves in her space, the ideas, the old-artsy style of the room, all of it.

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eatfishies · 4 years ago

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i miss you, i’m sorry

summary: A low mumble, “I’m sick of this.” His hushed confession goes unheard by her yet she pretends she didn’t catch on that for the sake of her broken heart crumbling from his words. note: features time skip! oikawa. spoilers about oikawa’s future career though. some scenes included flashbacks. all characters in present timeline is 21+. fem! reader. she/her pronouns.

song: i miss you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams word count: 1,254 words warnings: swearing, toxic relationship genre: angst arthie’s note: was suppose to publish this yesterday on sunday but i didn’t have any wifi hence the delay :(( anyways this fic is dedicated to flo flo!! it was her birthday yesterday and i purposely wanted to post this fic on her birthday but my wifi says no :< anyways, sorry if it’s not that great, i’ve been running on little to no sleep lately and my brain is fried ;-; hope yall still enjoy it nevertheless (´ ∀ ` *) ↳ main masterlist ↳ minor series masterlist ⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰ His roaring laughter imprinted in her mind, the way wrinkles formed around his mouth when he smiles or how soft his tousled hair was. “I can’t do this anymore.” Those words echoed loudly, clear and direct as if he’s standing right in front of her, watching her with disinterest. A low mumble, “I’m sick of this.” His hushed confession goes unheard by her yet she pretends she didn’t catch on that for the sake of her broken heart crumbling from his words. During that day, he left her all alone as she sinks down to the floor, sobbing while her chest twisted in agony.

She had only found out through Kunimi that Oikawa had left Japan and went to start a new life in Argentina. Guess I really meant nothing to him, huh? Didn’t even bother to tell me he was leaving either.. She thought to herself bitterly, walking down the sidewalk. An enthusiastic cheer startled her out of her thoughts, glancing at the source of acclamation, she noticed a child clapping her hands joyfully as the mom stares at the pastries displayed behind the glass window. “Which one do you want?” The mother asked her gleeful child who looked up with glints of jovial. “I want the milk bread!” Letting out a chuckle, the mother clutched her child’s hand and entered the bakery together. Without even realizing, her feet had carried her all the way to stare at the baked goods. A sense of nostalgia flows with the wind, his voice rings in the back of her mind. “Y/n-chan~ please just let me feed you this milk bread!” He pouted, blinking innocently. She rolled her eyes, “Fine. Don’t feed me too much, Tooru.” His face breaks into a grin and he happily tears off the bread, making a “aaaah ~” sound as he opens his mouth, trying to get her to do the same. Imitating him, she chews on the fluffy milky bread that dissolved into her mouth after a few chews. Savouring on the taste, she hummed as a sign of approval, “Not bad.” He grinned even wider, “Right?! I love milk bread so much ~ I’m so happy that Y/n-chan likes it too!” He exclaims, popping in the bread into his mouth with a delighted face. She only shook her head and drank her water when he said, “I’ll make sure to feed you lots of milk bread till you love it as much as me! I’ll do it forever if I have to ~” Snorting at that statement, she stared at him back, “What do you mean forever? Are you gonna be by my side all the time?” She teased, adoring the way his ears turned red. “Of course! I’m gonna be with you forever! You’re not ever getting rid of me, Y/n-chan. I’ll be by your side all the time ~” He remarked, smiling as her face flushed from the declaration. “Lady, please move!” A voice pulled her out of her reverie as she swiftly dodges the bicycle approaching her way. A sigh escapes her lips, glancing at the milk bread displayed once again as she walks away from the haunting memories of him that is bound to clog up her brain. Entering the empty apartment, lingering presence of his past hides behind these walls. Trudging to the couch, she plopped down, observing the dull living room with a bitter feeling. Closing her eyes, she can hear the faint screams circling in her mind, reigniting the relationship she once had with him. A miserable feeling yet she still cling onto him as if he was her saviour. “I told you to leave me alone!” He roared as the glass shattered across the floor, fury distinct in his chocolate eyes. Swallowing the fear away, she bent her head down in shame, only nodding and hastily grabs her belongings to flee out of his house. Slamming the door shut, she ran away as fast as she could, letting the tears stream down her cheeks as his yells echoed clear and loudly in her head. The disappointment that flashed throughout his face will haunt her for years. Beep! Beep! The notification snapped her back to reality, lazily clutching onto the device, she checked the incoming messages. Unknown: i miss you Frowning at the sudden proclamation, she examined the digits, a foreign number..? A realization struck her as she concluded on who’s the mysterious sender is. Biting her lip down harshly, she threw the phone onto the wall, frustrated against his mind games. She feels hopeless and agitated yet a part of her still loves him no matter how bad the relationship got. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ On the 16th of December, she coincidentally bumped into a tall stranger, “Sorry.” She muttered out an apology, quickly helping him pick the books that he was holding. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He replies, gazing up at her as her eyes become wide. “Tooru...” The man froze on the spot, gawking at her with disbelief. Her eyes darted across his face, noticing how his hair was no longer kept long instead he opted to cut it short and how he had gained a few pounds compared to the lanky figure he used to sported back in school. He blinked rapidly as if he could not believe she was standing in front of him, “Y/n-chan... what are you doing here?” “Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?” She scoffed, not bothering to hid the venom rooted inside her voice. “Seriously? I had to find out through your junior that you had moved miles away to fucking Argentina and you didn’t even dare to spoke a word to me?!” She spat, enraged upon all of the silence between them ever since they part ways. He only looked at her with a blank expression, merely reacted to her outburst. “I don’t owe you anything. We broke up remember?” Ignoring the twisting agony inside her chest, she nodded her head in understanding. “I remember vividly actually. Surprised you still acknowledge my existence though. All of that doesn’t matter anymore, after all, I’m just a toy to you aren’t I?” The revelation gleamed in those hazel eyes, staring wide open at his ex-lover. Before he could even utter out a word, she shook her head. “I don’t want your explanation nor your closure. Just.. please— don’t ever come back again.” Turning her back on him, she waited for his reply. “Okay.” Was all that he said, it’s foolish of her to even think that he would mutter out reassuring words and beg for her to stay yet she knew deep down that the words she longed for has dissipated, just like the love they once had. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ A year has passed by and not a single moment where a reminder of him pops inside her head. It seemed as if everything will always lead her back to him, no matter how painful it is. On the bright enormous screen, she can clearly see Oikawa in his uniform, a serious, focused expression as he sets the ball to his teammate. She ignores the stinging sensation that she feels, accepting their fate. She had come to terms at the fact that they were never soulmates— never meant for each other. Even if she wants him so desperately or how much he actually craves her affection, they’ll always end up feeling miserable and numb. Taking a final look at the man she used to love, she smiled sadly, I miss you, I’m sorry.

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ddeonghwaa · 5 years ago

Text

Moving On (Jaehyun)

Characters: Jaehyun x reader (ft. Johnny)

Genre: angst, fluff

Word count: 3.2k

Hi guys! Here is another Jaehyun imagine that I’ve been writing for a while. I really hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Don’t forget to leave a comment! A short message would make my day :)

The girl who has been chasing him for years, but has never gotten the chance to even date him once. Who? It was you. You have a crush on Jaehyun, who is now one of the most popular guys in school. Throughout your years in middle and high school, you’ve expressed your feelings pretty clearly to Jaehyun, but he never responded. He has never accepted your feelings or rejected them. Other girls who had their shot on Jaehyun would always tease and make fun of you, calling you desperate for his attention.

But what is so wrong about having feelings for someone? Their sneers made you insecure at times, as if they were mocking the feelings you own. But that didn’t stop you from always trying your best to be good to Jaehyun. Always buying him snacks, baking sweet treats for him and giving him presents for his birthday - which coincidentally falls on Valentine’s day. He never rejects your gifts, but he has also never given you a present on your special day. You have been holding on to the small hope of him liking you back someday and that was what has kept you going all these years.

However, time passes by really quickly and now both of you are in college. Thinking back about the efforts you have put to impress Jaehyun all these years made you laugh at yourself. Maybe it was finally time that you realise, he’ll never like you back because you never got an answer from him.

You sighed and talked to your reflection in the mirror, “Y/n, it’s time for you to move on. Meet new people in college. Strive in your studies. The world doesn’t revolve around Jaehyun.”

It was quite hard for you at first, especially when you knew he was going to the same college as you. But thank god you were in a different department than him.

“So y/n, pretty sure you heard that Jaehyun goes to the same college as us, right? Are you going to shoot him a shot again?” Sophie asked playfully and nudged your arm. She was the only one who stayed with you when all the other girls in school looked down on you. She claimed that she would know how you feel if she had someone she liked too.

You laughed and shook your head, “Nah. I told you I’ve moved on. I feel like I’ve been making a fool out of myself in the past.”

“I think I’ve heard that before, but I’ve never seen you this passionate about moving on. I’ll see you after class? We need to go shopping for bags soon!” Sophie bid goodbye and you returned the wave with a smile. “See you!”

Your next class was scheduled to be in an hour, so you decided to head to a cafe near your college. You had your earphones on and decided to just spend your free hour in the cafe, reading some books you’ve brought along. When you entered the cafe, you saw two familiar faces sitting there as customers. Just when you thought you could escape Jaehyun in college, there he was, sitting in the seat near the window, looking so perfect- with his friend Johnny.

You acted like you didn’t see him but unfortunately Johnny didn’t get the hint. “Hey y/n! Over here!” He called as he waved his hands to let you see where they were sitting.

“Oh no, Johnny. WHY must you do this to me?!” You muttered under your breath and put on an awkward smile while heading towards them.

“Hey, Johnny,” you faked a smile to him and turned your sight to Jaehyun. He smiled and nodded to you as a sign of acknowledging your presence. You awkwardly smiled back and turned to Johnny again. “Y/n, I’ve been looking all day in college for you because I heard you go to this college too. It’s been a tough task as if you’ve been avoiding me, but we finally meet here in the cafe, huh?” Johnny took a sip of his daily coffee.

“Well yeah I was planning to stay away from you,” you unconsciously answered.

“What? Really?” Johnny stared at you in shock, clearly looking offended at what you just said. “No! That’s not what I meant. Um, I..I mean, not you, specifically. Nevermind, just ignore what I said.” You noticed Jaehyun’s stare on you and it made you uncomfortable. “I’ll get going first. Gonna grab a drink and go to class. See you guys soon, I guess.”

You gave them a small smile and saw Jaehyun returning it with his dimpled smile. The dimples you have always been whipped for.

You walked away from their table and exhaled in relief. “Phew, I never knew getting over someone was this hard.” You hit your head as you thought about how handsome Jaehyun looked, how he was dressed like a college boyfriend….

Snap out of it, y/n! You’re moving on!

You shook your head and waved the thoughts away.

The days passed by and you realised it was getting easier for you to get over your crush on Jaehyun because you didn’t see him as often. You managed to avoid him on campus whenever you saw him from afar, because too much interaction with him might ruin your plan of moving on. That day, rain decided to pay you a whole day visit.

You were on your way to college with your bag, umbrella and earphones in your ears, listening to your rainy day playlist. You took a glimpse of your phone screen to look at the time and couldn’t help but notice the date.

14th of February.

A date you would always look forward to. A date when you actually put in more effort than your own birthday.

It was Jaehyun’s birthday and you were surprised at yourself for not preparing anything for him this time. On top of that, you didn’t even realise it was his birthday already. It has been like a ritual for you every year to prepare gifts for Jaehyun since middle school, but that day, it was different.

You had an hour left before your class starts so you went to the cafe to get a cup of iced chocolate. The cafe was half filled with people and you noticed a familiar figure. You saw Jaehyun sitting by the window again, alone this time, with a few boxes of chocolates on the table. You chuckled to yourself.

Right, it wouldn’t even make a difference if I actually got him something. He received plenty from others.

You headed to the cashier to order your drink and paid for it. While waiting for your drink to be ready, you scrolled your phone, killing time. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned and had the biggest surprise of your 20 years of living. “Jae…Jaehyun? Hi.”

Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction and replied, “Hey, y/n. Iced chocolate, huh?”

Your iced chocolate was served then and you thought it was your lifesaver. “Oh, my drink is ready. I’ll go now, bye.” You tried to escape from Jaehyun because his presence was making you panic and you didn’t know what to do.

“Wait!” Jaehyun held your wrist. You turned crimson as you stared at his hands on your wrist, and back at him. “Oh sorry,” He released your wrist when he realised he was probably holding onto it too hard. He then scratched the back of his head awkwardly and said, “Um, I thought I could just ask you a question before you go.”

“Hm? What is it?” You asked, as you poked a straw in your takeaway drink. He has never approached you to ask a question before. Weird.

“Uh… Don’t you have anything to give me? It’s a special day.”

You blinked in confusion, “W-what?”

“Wow, for the first time ever, you forgot about this day?” Jaehyun asked, his face portraying a look you couldn’t decipher. Was he surprised? Hurt? Relieved? You could not tell.

You sighed and closed your eyes. To tell someone that you are no longer interested in them is never an easy job, especially when he has never treated you badly. How should you put your words politely to not hurt him? After contemplating for a while on whether you should just be honest with him or not, you decided that you should just come clean with him.

“Jaehyun, listen. I know I’ve been chasing you my whole life and it probably made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry about that and if you’re asking this question to make fun of me, then you probably shouldn’t,” you bit your lower lip, hesitating whether to continue or not. “I’ve shown how I feel towards you for so many years and you didn’t give me an answer, not even once. So I thought that maybe it’s hard for you to reject me without hurting my feelings and I didn’t want to pressure you into liking me when you actually don’t. I’ll admit that I’m trying to avoid you now in college to get over my stupid little crush on you, so will you please, help me move on and continue ignoring me?”

Jaehyun calmly listened to what you have said, still keeping his eyes on you. He did not say a word and just stared at you blankly.

You felt a sense of guilt after exploding to him on his special day. “I-I’m sorry, Jaehyun. I shouldn’t have bursted out like that,” you awkwardly tapped his shoulder, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. I hope you have a great birthday. I’m sorry for not buying you anything this year, although I’m pretty sure it doesn’t affect you in any way. B-bye.”

Emptiness started to fill your heart as you said those words to him. Never have you imagined not getting any presents for his birthday, it did feel weird but you thought it was a good first step to moving on from Jaehyun. You walked away two steps from him when you heard him say a soft thank you, “Thanks y/n, for remembering my birthday,” You turned to look at him, clearly confused as to why he would say that when he has received tons of gifts today. “What do you mean?”

“I get chocolates every time on Valentine’s Day, but no one really ever wished me a happy birthday,” he shrugged, “except you,” he weakly smiled at you, his eyes turning into a crescent, but this time they looked sad compared to his usual eye smile. “I’d look forward to this day every year to see what you’ll get me, because you’re the only one who gets me gifts for my birthday, and not just Valentine’s Day.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “Jaehyun.”

A wave of guilt washed over you as you approached him, “Jae-”

“It’s okay, don’t feel bad,” he interrupted and tried to laugh it off, but you could still feel the hint of sadness in his chuckle. “Do you mind having a talk with me?” You nodded and he led you to the table he was sitting at previously. The two of you awkwardly took a seat as you placed your drink on the table.

“Um, don’t you have any plans with your friends or family today?” you asked, trying to break the ice. He chuckled and shook his head, “Nah, didn’t feel like it today. Besides, they are all busy with school and work.”

Way to go in making things worse, y/n!

You cleared your throat, “Oh I see.” Your hands reached for your drink as you took a sip of the sweet, chocolate cold drink. “So what was this about? Getting over your little crush on me?” Jaehyun asked with a playful smile, making you almost choke on your drink.

“Jaehyun, I swear if you’re trying to make fun of me about it, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Wow, easy there,” he opened a box of chocolates and popped one into his mouth. “To tell you the truth, I’ve always known about your feelings for me,” he paused, “And I purposely didn’t give you an answer.”

You tilted your head to the side, “Why?”

He sighed and bit his bottom lip, “If I rejected you then I wouldn’t be able to see you anymore because you’d be embarrassed and stop chasing after me. On the other hand, I didn’t accept your feelings because I was afraid of admitting that I had feelings for you too. I know for a fact that people will start making fun of me and you if it happened.”

Silence.

“What are you saying?”

“I like you too, y/n.”

You scoffed at what you just heard and furrowed your brows. “You’re such a coward, Jung Jaehyun.”

You didn’t know what got into you but you were there, blurting out things to him. Throughout the years of liking Jaehyun, never once did you think of stopping just because you were scared of what others would say. Their words did hurt you, no doubt, but you were still pursuing your sincere feelings for him. And now, a dream come true was laid out in front of you, your longtime crush saying he likes you back, but why is it that you feel so hurt and disappointed rather than happy?

Jaehyun widened his eyes and stared at you, confused. Definitely not the reaction he was expecting. “I’ve been chasing after you for so many years not knowing when to stop because you never gave me an answer. And now, right when I am finally trying to move on from you, you come at me with this ‘I like you too’?”

He looked surprised and tried to answer you but you interrupted, “You cared more about what others think of you than your own feelings?” Your eyes started to tear up but you refused to let them fall and looked at him for one last time before leaving the cafe,

“Do you really like me or do you finally feel empty because there isn’t anyone desperately chasing after you anymore?”

The scene where you left the cafe after the conversation the two of you had kept replaying in Jaehyun’s head. He realised how much he had hurt you because of his own selfish feelings and thoughts. You were brave enough to tell the world how much you adored him but why couldn’t he do the same for you? Why was he so tied down to what others have to say about him?

He messed up his own hair and banged his head on the table. Johnny who was sitting next to him looked at him and nudged his arm. “What’s with you, dude? Got rejected by a girl or something?” Jaehyun’s head shot up as he glared at Johnny. Johnny blinked and leaned closer, “Really? Are you serious? Did y/n reject you?”

Johnny listened closely to Jaehyun’s explanation of what had happened between the two of you and let out a sigh. “I mean, I do understand her. You were kind of… a jerk,” he shrugged as Jaehyun groaned, “I know. I’m such a jerk. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

“But try making up to her, apologise for faults on your part and ask for another chance.”

That day, Jaehyun became determined to make things right with you. He immediately made his way to your department and looked for your lecture hall. Yes, he checked your schedule and the lecture halls you had to be in. After rounds of looking around, he finally found the lecture hall you were currently having your class in. Five more minutes before you finish class and his heart was beating so loudly while he stood near the exit door.

When the door finally opened, students came out one by one, some staring at him weirdly while others just didn’t care. It felt like eternity until you finally exited the hall with your friend, chuckling at what she just said. Your chuckle halted as you turned to see who was standing in front of you. Your friend bid you goodbye and you were left alone with Jaehyun. Again.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you. Please hear me out,” he spoke softly, awkwardly avoiding eye contact because he was not ready to see how your reaction will be. “I don’t think I have anything to say anymore to you,” you replied with a cold look. “But sure, I’ll let you speak for the last time, so stop bothering me after this.”

Jaehyun looked up into your eyes, “I just want to say that I’m sorry. I admit that it was my fault because I cared too much about the words of others rather than my own feelings and yours. I don’t remember when I started liking you, but I am confident enough to tell you that it was even before we entered college. I was so scared of losing you that I thought it was better for our relationship to stay like how it was. That was, until you told everyone you were getting over me, I felt so sad because I knew things would end even before it started.”

He paused to see your expression, but your face did not change, “I really do like you and I am not saying this because ‘I feel empty there’s no one chasing after me’. It’s because I’m just that dumb and I’m a coward for not being able to express my feelings for you before this. I’m really sorry for hurting you all these years and I appreciate every single thing you’ve done for me. Will you give me another chance to make things right?”

You stared at him and took a deep breath. He waited for you to say something, but nothing came out. “Y/n? Talk to me, please.”

You bit your lower lip and took a while before parting your lips to give him an answer, “Okay, I’ll give you another chance. And I’m also sorry for being mad at you on your birthday the other day,” you said.

Jaehyun felt relieved and jumped on his spot. “Thank you, y/n! Don’t worry about that, a jerk like me deserved it.”

His dimples appeared as he watched a smile creeping up your face. “I got you something,” he reached out for something in his bag and took out a box, beautifully tied with a ribbon. “I’ve been such an ungrateful jerk who never returns your gifts, so I hope you’d like this first gift from me. Open it.” He handed you the box and you whispered a soft thank you. You untied the ribbon and gently opened the box to see a small star necklace. “Jae-”

“Here, I’ll help you put it on,” he took the necklace and put it around your neck, hooking the ends together. The necklace falls beautifully on your chest and you took a closer look at it. “Do you like it?”

You smiled and gave a small nod, “It’s beautiful.”

Jaehyun’s lips lifted from both sides and he offered out his hand, “Can I hold your hand, y/n?” You turned red and felt heat creeping up your cheeks, but you nodded in response. Jaehyun cheekily took your hand and intertwined fingers together. “Let’s go eat!”

masterlist

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sysba · 4 years ago

Note

"we wanted to cook but now we are dramatically singing a duet with kitchen utensils in our hands, this is quality Performance™" for a pairing of your choice 😌

islands in the stream

pairing: nate x hyeon

words: 800+

warnings: rated T for mild innuendos; not proofread

a/n: ngl babey this is subpar but nate wearing a henley and beating the egg just burned through all my braincells and i was left w nothing :3

“Well, this is…” Nate chews on his lip, trying very hard not to laugh as he searches for the right term, “Sweet. Very sweet of you.”

Of all the things he expected to find when he entered the kitchen to inspect the noise, this is certainly a surprise.

Hyeon’s face scrunches up.

“Please don’t say that. I’m pretty sure I forgot to put sugar in them.”

He eyes the tiny horrors in front of him– they were supposed to be blueberry muffins, Nate’s favourites, but they ended up being a personal affront that’s likely to give you food poisoning. The lively tunes of 70s pop music in the background seem to be mocking him, and he lets out a dramatically long sigh.

A little bit of flour gets stuck on his jet black brows after he rubs his forehead with the back of his hand, and Nate pursed lips (he’s trying so hard to bite back a chuckle) do nothing to bleach the affection painted all over his face.

“Still,” he says, crossing the room in two long strides. His brown eyes are brimming with enamoured softness as brings up a hand to the detective’s face to wipe away the flour with his thumb. “You know you don't have to do all this for me, Hyeon.”

(And he means it. He never needs anything, wants anything besides the detective’s time)

Hyeon’s sheepish smile morphs into a grin, a bit lopsided, and clearly full of poorly executed good intentions as he flutters his lashes at Nate. “What if I wanted to impress you, Agent?”

Nate laughs, the warm sound reverberating through the whole kitchen and making Hyeon’s chest swell with joy as their bodies press together with such enthusiasm they almost lose balance.

“I appreciate the effort, but I fear we're way past that,” the vampire chuckles, their lips so close (almost touching) that Hyeon instinctively shuts his eyes and tilts his head, waiting for a kiss that doesn’t come.

He would whine, much like a kid who’s denied their candy, but before a single word of protest can make it past his lips he feels Nate’s kisses along his jaw, light as whispers and tantalizing, endless promises peppered across his skin.

“Want me to show you how to do it?” Nate’s voice is nothing short of a low purr, barely enough to break through Hyeon’s daze.

“Hell yeah!” The words are blurted out, so rushed that they’re hardly words at all. Nate stares back at him without speakig, only the hint of a smile and eyes widened in innocent confusion (everything about the expression screams deceit). Hyeon blinks once, twice, finally registering the question with a small frown. “Oh, the baking– You meant baking. Sure thing, let's do it.”

Food isn’t exactly where the detective’s skills lie, and although Nate does his best to guide him, it soon becomes clear that Hyeon isn’t all that invested in learning, after all… Not recipes, at least.

Instead, he focuses on the way Nate moves across the room, the relaxed confidence he exudes when he’s in his element and the way he hums along to the music even though he doesn’t know all the words.

The sight is delightfully domestic.

“You're quite distracted.”

“Uh?”

The eloquent answer makes Nate chuckle. “Is something the matter? Do I have something on my face?”

The slim fit of his green henley does little to hide the way his arms flex as he beats the egg, skilled motions and amused smile. Hyeon clears his throat, forcing himself to move his gaze back up.

“Yeah...” He grins, leaning on the kitchen counter in rehearsed casualness and trying to look inviting as he flashes Nate a heavy-lidded gaze. “The most beautiful smile I've ever seen.”

This time Nate doesn’t try to hold back the laughter, the sound bright and loud (but never mocking) as it lingers in the air. “My, you're quite the charmer today.”

The shorter man gasps dramatically, a hand to his chest and quite the unconvincing hurt expression plastered on his face. “What do you mean, today?!”

Before he can reply Nate perks up, catching the tune of the song that just started playing.

“I know this one!” He says it excitedly, almost in surprise, and he looks so much like a puppy that Hyeon huffs a laugh.

“Heh, it means I taught you well,” he comments with a wide smile.

He recognizes the song, of course– Islands In The Stream has always been one of his favourites. When he was little he had this nanny who was a huge Dolly Parton fan, and she had passed that enthusiasm onto him. And of course, as soon as he had realized Nate’s impressive musical knowledge did not include country songs he had to rectify the situation (because what can be better than sharing your passions with someone you love?)

You do something to me That I can't explain Hold me closer and I feel no pain

The lyrics pull another smile from Hyeon, and he grabs Nate’s hand to tug him closer. “Sing with me!”

Tender love is blind It requires a dedication

Nate shakes his head but chuckles fondly as Hyeon’s voice fills the kitchen – he’s screaming rather than singing, although his enthusiasm and great stage presence are commendable. So drunk with love, too much to refuse, Nate picks up the nearest spoon and starts singing into it.

All this love we feel Needs no conversation

He has a nice voice, clear and fruity. Hyeon’s grin widens exponentially as they dance together, one of Nate’s long arms wrapped around Hyeon’s waist as they both take hold of the wooden spoon to duet.

Islands in the stream That is what we are Baby, I will hurt you never We start and end as one In love forever

The performance grows in volume as they try to add pizzaz, forgetting all about the bowl full of batter on the counter and the heated oven.

And we rely on each other, ah ha 'Cause we love one another, ah ha

The song comes to a sudden halt much sooner than expected. When they turn in confusion, Mason is standing there with a grimace, plug of the stereo in hand.

“I can hear you from my room.”

#i love that himbo he has 3 braincells and all of them are h*rny for nate at all times #nate sewell x detective #n sewell x detective #n sewell #mywritings #myposts #faarain #lee hyeon

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stxphxn-strange · 4 years ago

Text

i’d love it if we made it

a/n: the title for this comes from “love it if we made it” by the 1975 and it’s part 1 of probably 3 in a new college au miniseries. tw for mention of/implied unhealthy parental and romantic relationships, also i feel like i should mention that this fic isn’t anti bruce at all, but he and tony butt heads a lot in this one bc sometimes that happens

summary: how was anyone supposed to navigate being honest with themself and their friends while still dealing with the past and fearing judgement in the present? and why did Valentine’s Day nearing somehow suddenly make Stephen and Anthony’s relationship everyone’s business? so Anthony hated Valentine’s Day, sue him!

Anthony yawned, leaning his head against Stephen’s shoulder. He smiled sleepily as Stephen wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, completely lost in the love in Stephen’s eyes and the background humming of an elevator’s inner workings. He probably could have fallen asleep then and there. It had been a long week, and Stephen and Anthony both were exhausted. The past few days had been a busy, hazy blur, and the weekend’s beginning would probably be the same.

“One day soon,” Anthony said, rolling his eyes as he yawned again, “We should honestly do nothing and sleep, or try to sleep.”

As much as he agreed, Stephen couldn’t (read: he didn’t try to) stop himself from teasing Anthony about what he’d said. “Who are you and what have you done with my ‘I can function on less than four hours of sleep’ hot mess of a boyfriend?”

Anthony exaggerated a swoon. “Aww, you think I’m hot?”

Bruce rolled his eyes from where he stood a short distance away. “I’m trying to listen to Hope talk about her plans for this Sunday, if you don’t mind keeping the flirting to yourselves.”

“It’s not complicated, we’re just going for dinner and a little walk around town,” Hope said. “I think I’m going to get Chrissy some roses too. What are you and Thor doing?”

“He told me has a surprised planned, and it’s on a need-to-know basis,” Bruce replied. “Which is such a Thor thing to say, even though he knows he can’t keep secrets very well. Do either of you know what he’s up to?”

“Brucie I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and I don’t think I’ve seen Thor all week,” Anthony mumbled. “What’s he doing?”

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me,” Bruce said. “What are you two doing Sunday?”

“That might be a good day to catch up on sleep,” Stephen suggested, his answer more directed at Anthony.

Anthony nodded appreciatively. “Yes, yes yes yes. That’s the best idea you’ve had in awhile.”

“Fuck you, I have a ton of good ideas!” Stephen retorted.

“Fuck me yourself!” Despite the teasing tone in his words, Anthony was the picture of innocence as he snuggled closer to Stephen.

“Idiot,” Stephen murmured, kissing the top of his head.

The elevator came to a stop, the hallway surprisingly quiet as the doors opened.

“What kind of roses are you going to get?” Bruce asked Hope. “I mean it’s really none of my business, but I’m curious.”

“Probably pink?” Hope replied, the blush on her face matching the uncertainty in her voice. “She won’t admit it, but I know pink is Christine’s favorite color. Am I right about that Stephen?”

“You are, but also you know her birthday is in May right?” Stephen asked. “It’s only February.”

“No shit Sherlock. Sunday is the fourteenth, and I’m talking about Valentine’s Day flowers,” Hope said.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day?” Anthony asked, still a bit out of it as Stephen opened the suite’s door.

“Did you forget? You, the most extra person in our entire friend group when it comes to any kind of affectionate gestures, forgot that Sunday is Valentine’s Day?” Bruce replied.

Anthony couldn’t measure how shocked his friend was, not when Bruce was as soft-spoken as always, but for some reason his question still kind of stung. “I didn’t forget, it’s been a long week and I just didn’t put two and two together.”

“What’s the problem?” Christine asked, standing up to hug Hope.

“Ant forgot that Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” Bruce said.

“I literally just told you that that’s not what happened,” Anthony muttered, increasingly annoyed with the conversation. “To be honest with you I don’t really like Valentine’s Day, so I haven’t been thinking about it.”

“You don’t— what?! You’re the perfect boyfriend, there’s no way you hate Valentine’s Day.” Now Anthony could tell that Bruce was shocked.

“He is the perfect boyfriend, and neither of us really care for Valentine’s Day,” Stephen said. He could tell that Anthony wanted to say something but was too taken aback. “There’s no relationship between who Anthony is as a partner and the way he feels about a date on a calendar.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you there, I guess I’m just surprised and I worded that incorrectly. I’m sorry Tony,” Bruce said.

Anthony shrugged and sat in the living room where Christine was moments before. “It’s fine. I don’t like the implication that I’m hearing, that just because I hate the holiday means I’m not going to do something for Stephen, but you may not have meant that.”

“I was curious if he’d be upset by that,” Bruce admitted.

“No need to talk about me like I’m not here, and no I wouldn’t be. I’m indifferent about the date and I wouldn’t expect performative affection knowing how Anthony feels about it. There’s no reason for anyone to make themself upset, stressed, or anxious because they do or don’t want to do something for their partner, and that goes beyond February 14th.” Stephen’s tone was firm, clearly indicating that he wanted the conversation to be over. He joined Anthony on the couch, laying down and resting his head on his lap.

“Don’t… no more details,” Anthony whispered.

Stephen nodded immediately. “I’m sorry.”

Anthony yawned again, taking one of Stephen’s hands as Christine and Hope walked back into the living room.

“I left my seat for less than 10 minutes,” Christine muttered.

“Ant and I were going to go to my room, so I guess it’s your lucky day,” Stephen teased.

“It’s just your audacity for me, we’ve been suitemates for two years and you can’t help yourself from stealing my spot whenever I leave the room?” Christine played along. “I’m going to tell Pepper and Wong when they get back.”

“We’re here, what happened?” Pepper was mentally preparing to roll her eyes.

“Stephen and Ant stole my spot in front of the TV again,” Christine pretended to whine.

“Oh, the horror! The humanity!” Wong quipped.

“And also apparently Ant doesn’t like Valentine’s Day, which makes no sense to me,” Bruce added.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Just let it go Bruce!”

An uncomfortable feeling like a humid room on a not-quite rainy day settled over the room. Bruce and Anthony both looked sheepish, hastily apologizing and letting the conversation blanket the room like a stratus cloud.

++++

They’d been quiet for the better part of an hour, focused intently and not at all on an episode of The Great British Baking Show. Anthony told Stephen in no uncertain terms that he was angry (“my blood is fucking boiling”) when they first closed the door to Stephen’s room, but had said little else since then. He’d retreated, both into the mess of thoughts taking over his mind and the comfort of Stephen’s hug. Stephen honestly didn’t expect Anthony to say anything again until he’d talked himself down or worked himself up.

It was three episodes later when Anthony spoke up.

“I shouldn’t have gotten that angry in front of the others,” he rasped. “They don’t know why I’m this upset at some simple questions, I just seem like a defensive asshole.”

“You’ve every right to be defensive. Even if I take everything I know about why you’re upset and put it aside for a minute, you reacted exactly like anyone who’s ever gotten annoyed at a friend for trying to find humor in your opinions and at your expense,” Stephen replied. “And because I know more of the context for how you’re feeling, I think Bruce just rubbed salt in a healing wound without realizing it.”

“I’ll apologize to him again later. I really feel bad for snapping, I’m no better than Howard and no better than my ex,” Anthony muttered.

“No Anthony that’s not true,” Stephen said firmly. “Neither of them, neither he nor Howard, would have the decency to feel remorseful or apologetic. Neither of them would even think about apologizing or checking up on everyone involved in the argument or situation. You're a good person and much better than you give yourself credit for, so don’t try comparing a golden apple to two that are rotten from the inside out. You’re human and definitely not the first person to be rightfully annoyed or angry with their friends.”

“I owe all of them an explanation,” Anthony mumbled. “About my ex.”

“If you want to tell the group, I support you. But you don’t owe anyone anything, and you don’t have to tell them now,” Stephen said. “You’ll only hurt yourself if you tell them before you’re ready, and you might not be yet.��

“I feel like I should, since it is almost Valentine’s Day and the timing is convenient. It’d be as easy as going to the living room and telling them ‘hey I’ve never really cared about Valentine’s Day but in recent years I’ve grown to hate it because it reminds me of an unhealthy relationship I was in,’ but I can’t say it,” Anthony replied. “I broke up with him three years ago, I should be able to talk about it.”

“If something was painful, then it was painful and you heal at your own pace. There’s no pressure to talk about it, not even to me if you don’t want to. I love you, and I’m here for you no matter what.”

“I love you too. I don’t think I deserve you.”

“Oh hush,” Stephen murmured. “Not only have you got that backwards, you’re just plain wrong.”

“I’m never wrong, thank you very much,” Anthony teased. He shifted enough to place featherlight kisses all over Stephen’s face, smiling when Stephen pulled him in for a long, sweet kiss on the lips. He rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder again when they broke apart, reaching up to play with his hair. “Do you want to do anything for Valentine’s Day though?”

“Besides catching up on sleep?” Stephen asked.

Anthony nodded.

Stephen’s response was immediate and came with the little scoff of indifference. “No. This week has been draining and I want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”

“That’s what I want too, but we can do whatever. I want to make you happy,” Anthony said.

“You do and you will just by being yourself,” Stephen whispered, kissing his hair. “Here’s my idea: we should definitely catch up on sleep, then we can spend the day lounging and eating candy, watching the worst rom coms we can find, and throwing popcorn at my laptop every time a character does or says something cliche. What do you think?”

“Everyday you do or say one thing at least that makes me fall more in love with you, and among other things today it was that idea you just came up with,” Anthony replied. “But if I see a single Lifetime channel movie about people falling in love with their dentist, having a meet-cute at a dentist’s office, or anything even remotely like that, I will not watch it. I don’t want to remember a plot of a movie like that while I’m waiting to get my wisdom teeth pulled next week!”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @taruyison @kitkatfat15 @katninjagirl97 @spookywizardboy @ironstrange-chaos @chocopiggy @majesticnerdynerd @maya-custodios-dionach @thespacecryptid

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #my ironstrange college au #i rewrote this so many times lmao #bruce banner #implied christine/hope #implied thorbruce #this has major foreshadowing for pt 2 #tw unhealthy relationships #tw parents #howard stark's a+ parenting #anti howard stark #protective stephen strange #hope van dyne

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uomo-accattivante · 4 years ago

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Fantastic (but long) article about Theater of War’s recent productions, including Oedipus the King and Antigone in Ferguson, featuring Oscar Isaac. The following are excerpts. The full article is viewable via the source link below:

Excerpt:

“Children of Thebes, why are you here?” Oscar Isaac asked. His face filled the monitor on my dining table. (It was my partner’s turn to use the desk.) We were a couple of months into lockdown, just past seven in the evening, and a few straggling cheers for essential workers came in through the window. Isaac was looking smoldery with a quarantine beard, a gold chain, an Airpod, and a black T-shirt. His display name was set to “Oedipus.”

Isaac was one of several famous actors performing Sophocles’ “Oedipus the King” from their homes, in the first virtual performance by Theater of War Productions: a group that got its start in 2008, staging Sophocles’ “Ajax” and “Philoctetes” for U.S. military audiences and, beginning in 2009, on military installations around the world, including in Kuwait, Qatar, and Guantánamo Bay, with a focus on combat trauma. After each dramatic reading, a panel made up of people in active service, veterans, military spouses, and/or psychiatrists would describe how the play resonated with their experiences of war, before opening up the discussion to the audience. Since its founding, Theater of War Productions has addressed different kinds of trauma. It has produced Euripides’ “The Bacchae” in rural communities affected by the opioid crisis, “The Madness of Heracles” in neighborhoods afflicted by gun violence and gang wars, and Aeschylus’ “Prometheus Bound” in prisons. “Antigone in Ferguson,” which focusses on crises between communities and law enforcement, was motivated by an analogy between Oedipus’ son’s unburied body and that of Michael Brown, left on the street for roughly four hours after Brown was killed by police; it was originally performed at Michael Brown’s high school.

Now, with trauma roving the globe more contagiously than ever, Theater of War Productions had traded its site-specific approach for Zoom. The app was configured in a way I hadn’t seen before. There were no buttons to change between gallery and speaker view, which alternated seemingly by themselves. You were in a “meeting,” but one you were powerless to control, proceeding by itself, with the inexorability of fate. There was no way to view the other audience members, and not even the group’s founder and director, Bryan Doerries, knew how numerous they were. Later, Zoom told him that it had been fifteen thousand. This is roughly the seating capacity of the theatre of Dionysus, where “Oedipus the King” is believed to have premièred, around 429 B.C. Those viewers, like us, were in the middle of a pandemic: in their case, the Plague of Athens.

The original audience would have known Oedipus’ story from Greek mythology: how an oracle had predicted that Laius, the king of Thebes, would be killed by his own son, who would then sleep with his mother; how the queen, Jocasta, gave birth to a boy, and Laius pierced and bound the child’s ankles, and ordered a shepherd to leave him on a mountainside. The shepherd took pity on the maimed baby, Oedipus (“swollen foot”), and gave him to a Corinthian servant, who handed him off to the king and queen of Corinth, who raised him as their son. Years later, Oedipus killed Laius at a crossroads, without knowing who he was. Then he saved Thebes from a Sphinx, became the king of Thebes, had four children with Jocasta, and lived happily for many years.

That’s where Sophocles picks up the story. Everyone would have known where things were headed—the truth would come out, and Oedipus would blind himself—but not how they would get there. How Sophocles got there was by drawing on contemporary events, on something that was in everyone’s mind, though it doesn’t appear in the original myth: a plague.

In the opening scene, Thebes is in the grip of a terrible epidemic. Oedipus’ subjects come to the palace, imploring him to save the city, describing the scene of pestilence and panic, the screaming and the corpses in the street. Something about the way Isaac voiced Oedipus’ response—“Children. I am sorry. I know”—made me feel a kind of longing. It was a degree of compassion conspicuous by its absence in the current Administration. I never think of myself as someone who wants or needs “leadership,” yet I found myself thinking, We would be better off with Oedipus. “I would be a weak leader if I did not follow the gods’ orders,” Isaac continued, subverting the masculine norm of never asking for advice. He had already sent for the best information out there, from the Delphic Oracle.

Soon, Oedipus’ brother-in-law, Creon—John Turturro, in a book-lined study—was doing his best to soft-pedal some weird news from Delphi. Apparently, the oracle said that the plague wouldn’t end until the people of Thebes expelled Laius’ killer: a person who was somehow still in the city, even though Laius had died many years earlier on an out-of-town trip. Oedipus called in the blind prophet, Tiresias, played by Jeffrey Wright, whose eyes were invisible behind a circular glare in his eyeglasses.

Reading “Oedipus” in the past, I had always been exasperated by Tiresias, by his cryptic lamentations—“I will never reveal the riddles within me, or the evil in you”—and the way he seemed incapable of transmitting useful information. Spoken by a Black actor in America in 2020, the line made a sickening kind of sense. How do you tell the voice of power that the problem is in him, really baked in there, going back generations? “Feel free to spew all of your vitriol and rage in my direction,” Tiresias said, like someone who knew he was in for a tweetstorm.

Oedipus accused Tiresias of treachery, calling out his disability. He cast suspicion on foreigners, and touted his own “wealth, power, unsurpassed skill.” He decried fake news: “It’s all a scam—you know nothing about interpreting birds.” He elaborated a deep-state scenario: Creon had “hatched a secret plan to expel me from office,” eliciting slanderous prophecies from supposedly disinterested agencies. It was, in short, a coup, designed to subvert the democratic will of the people of Thebes.

Frances McDormand appeared next, in the role of Jocasta. Wearing no visible makeup, speaking from what looked like a cabin somewhere with wood-panelled walls, she resembled the ghost of some frontierswoman. I realized, when I saw her, that I had never tried to picture Jocasta: not her appearance, or her attitude. What was her deal? How had she felt about Laius maiming their baby? How had she felt about being offered as a bride to whomever defeated the Sphinx? What did she think of Oedipus when she met him? Did it never seem weird to her that he was her son’s age, and had horrible scars on his ankles? How did they get along, those two?

When you’re reading the play, you don’t have to answer such questions. You can entertain multiple possibilities without settling on one. But actors have to make decisions and stick to them. One decision that had been made in this case: Oedipus really liked her. “Since I have more respect for you, my dear, than anyone else in the world,” Isaac said, with such warmth in “my dear.” I was reminded of the fact that Euripides wrote a version of “Oedipus”—lost to posterity, like the majority of Greek tragedies—that some scholars suggest foregrounds the loving relationshipbetween Oedipus and Jocasta.

Jocasta’s immediate task was to defuse the potentially murderous argument between her husband and her brother. She took one of the few rhetorical angles available to a woman: why, such grown men ought to be ashamed of themselves, carrying on so when there was a plague going on. And yet, listening to the lines that McDormand chose to emphasize, it was clear that, in the guise of adult rationality and spreading peace, what she was actually doing was silencing and trivializing. “Come inside,” she said, “and we’ll settle this thing in private. And both of you quit making something out of nothing.” It was the voice of denial, and, through the play, you could hear it spread from character to character.

By this point in the performance, I found myself spinning into a kind of cognitive overdrive, toggling between the text and the performance, between the historical context, the current context, and the “universal” themes. No matter how many times you see it pulled off, the magic trick is always a surprise: how a text that is hundreds or thousands of years old turns out to be about the thing that’s happening to you, however modern and unprecedented you thought it was.

Excerpt:

The riddle of the Sphinx plays out in the plot of “Oedipus,” particularly in a scene near the end where the truth finally comes out. Two key figures from Oedipus’ infancy are brought in for questioning: the Theban shepherd, who was supposed to kill baby Oedipus but didn’t; and the Corinthian messenger to whom he handed off the maimed child. The Theban shepherd is walking proof that the Sphinx’s riddle is hard, because that man can’t recognize anyone: not the Corinthian, whom he last saw as a young man, and certainly not Oedipus, a baby with whom he’d had a passing acquaintance decades earlier. “It all took place so long ago,” he grumbles. “Why on earth would you ask me?”

“Because,” the Corinthian (David Strathairn) explained genially on Zoom, “this man whom you are now looking at was once that child.”

This, for me, was the scene with the catharsis in it. At a certain point, the shepherd (Frankie Faison) clearly understood everything, but would not or could not admit it. Oedipus, now determined to learn the truth at all costs, resorted to enhanced interrogation. “Bend back his arms until they snap,” Isaac said icily; in another window, Faison screamed in highly realistic agony. Faison was a personification of psychological resistance: the mechanism a mind develops to protect itself from an unbearable truth. Those invisible guardsmen had to nearly kill him before he would admit who had given him the baby: “It was Laius’s child, or so people said. Your wife could tell you more.”

Tears glinted in Isaac’s eyes as he delivered the next line, which I suddenly understood to be the most devastating in the whole play: “Did . . . she . . . give it to you?” How had I never fully realized, never felt, how painful it would have been for Oedipus to realize that his parents hadn’t loved him?

Excerpt:

If we borrow the terms of Greek drama, 2020 might be viewed as the year of anagnorisis: tragic recognition. On August 9th, the sixth anniversary of the shooting of Michael Brown, I watched the Theater of War Productions put on a Zoom production of “Antigone in Ferguson”: an adaptation of Sophocles’ “Oedipus” narrative sequel, with the chorus represented by a demographically and ideologically diverse gospel choir. Oscar Isaac was back, this time as Creon, Oedipus’ successor as king. He started out as a bullying inquisitor (“I will have your extremities removed one by one until you reveal the criminal’s name”), ordering Antigone (Tracie Thoms) to be buried alive, insulting everyone who criticized him, and accusing Tiresias of corruption. But then Tiresias, with the help of the chorus, persuaded Creon to reconsider. In a sustained gospel number, the Thebans, armed with picks and shovels, led by their king, rushed to free Antigone.

“Antigone” being a tragedy, they got there too late, resulting in multiple deaths, and in Isaac’s once again totally losing his shit. It was almost the same performance he gave in “Oedipus,” and yet, where Oedipus begins the play written into a corner, between walls that keep closing in, Creon seems to have just a little more room to maneuver. His misfortune—like that of Antigone and her brother—feels less irreversible. I first saw “Antigone in Ferguson” live, last year, and, in the discussion afterward, the subject of fate—inevitably—came up. I remember how Doerries gently led the audience to view “Antigone” as an illustration of how easily everything might happen differently, and how people’s minds can change. I remember the energy that spread through the room that night, in talk about prison reform and the urgency of collective change.

###

Again, the full article is accessible via the source link below:

#oscar isaac #theater of war #oedipus the king #antigone in ferguson #creon #frances mcdormand #john turturro #jeffrey wright #david strathairn #frankie faison #bryan doerries #sophocles #zoom #the oedipus project

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perseusannabeth · 4 years ago

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I'll Hold Your Hand - modern AU Nessian fic

Summary: Cassian is finally going to spend some alone time with Nesta, and he's going to woo the shit out of her. He's totally going to seduce her. This is his chance, finally! However, when he gets to Nesta's flat, he realises that this may not be the best time for seduction.

Notes: This is not beta-read so please let me know if there are any mistakes! I wrote this for my friend @acourtofmarauders who asked for some Nessian fluff. If anyone has any acotar prompts they would like me to write, then please send me an ask!

Cassian would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t dressing extra carefully today. He had spent 2 hours going through every combination of outfits he could possibly wear, and another hour (once he had chosen an outfit) had been dedicated to fixing his hair. He was nervous, and that was a new feeling for him. Cassian never got nervous, especially when it came to women.

Nesta Archeron however, was no ordinary woman. In fact, when she was angry, he wasn’t even sure she was a woman, she looked like a dragon sometimes, with smoke blowing out of her nostrils when she got angry and ready to breathe fire and burn down whoever angered her, which was usually him. He loved it though. At first, he just loved pissing her off for the sake of it. He didn’t hate her, he just didn’t really like her either and she irritated him, got under his skin and somehow knew how to push all the wrong buttons. Now though, he just loved to watch the way her cheeks would flush, her brows would furrow, and the slight clench of her jaw. He enjoyed their verbal sparring, which he had come to see as a release for the tension between them, only the past few months it felt like the verbal spars were not enough to get rid of the tension.

If she could see him now, primping and preening in the mirror for hours on end, she would have insulted him till he begged for a reprieve, but he doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he looks irresistible but make it look effortless. She could never know his effortless look took him 3 hours. In fact, none of his friends could ever know. They would never shut up about it. He thanked the cauldron that Azriel was spending a few days away with Elain so he couldn’t witness what a mess he was. Sometimes living with your brother had its downsides. He was just thankful that Rhys didn’t still live here. He shuddered at the thought of Rhys and Feyre seeing him getting ready for his not-date with Nesta.

Cassian knew he was acting like this was a date, but he didn’t care. Nesta had invited him to go over to her flat when she was home alone to eat junk food and watch films together, and Cassian was ecstatic. If he had known that mentioning that he had never seen Lord of the Rings, despite having read all the books would have made Nesta so outraged that she’d invite him to spend time with her, then he would have mentioned it ages ago.

He looked at the clock again to check if it was a reasonable enough time to set off. He didn’t want to get there too early, as eager as he was, because that might annoy Nesta and he didn’t want to start their 12-hour marathon with Nesta being angry at him. He also would rather die than get there late, so he kept checking the clock. Nesta had told him to come over for 6 pm so they could marathon all three of the films. She had warned that it would be an endurance test and that if he was a “weak ass bitch” (direct quote from Nesta herself), then she would “leave him for dead”.

Cassian looked at himself one last time in the mirror. His hair was tied in a messy man bun that had taken way too much time to make it look so effortless and not as though he had run in the wind. He had kept his outfit simple, wearing a grey fitted shirt which he knew made his muscles look great, and his favourite joggers which he knew did wonders for his ass (not that it needed help but still, every little helps where Nesta is concerned). Nesta had warned him to dress comfortable, but that didn’t mean he had to dress like a slob.

He grabbed his favourite red zip-up hoodie, made sure he had his phone, charger and keys as he walked into the kitchen. Nesta had said she would have some snacks but Cassian wanted to do a little extra, so he had prepared a pasta bake, which just needed to go in the oven when he got to Nesta’s place. He had also taken the liberty of buying an assortment of junk food, including sour sweets (Nesta’s favourites) and Yorkie chocolate bars (Nesta claimed she started eating them out of spite and can’t stop. He’s too afraid to ask what that even means).

He somehow managed to lock up while holding the pasta bake and the tonne of junk food, and then went and put his things in his car. He tried to drive as slowly as he could without annoying other people on the roads, just to make sure he didn’t get there too early, but still ended up arriving 15 minutes earlier than he was supposed to. Still, Cassian decided Nesta couldn’t be too mad at him for arriving early (could she?) so he decided to take a chance and go up to her flat.

He knocked on her door cautiously and heard a muffled swear from inside which made him grin. Perhaps their little Lord of the Rings marathon wasn’t only making him nervous. The idea that Nesta was nervous too made Cassian grin even wider, his heart fluttering slightly at the thought of Nesta getting nervous because of him.

The door swung open, interrupting Cassian’s thoughts. Nesta stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. She looked… tired? It threw Cassian, seeing her like this. Her hair was in a messy plait that she had clearly slept in, she was wearing what looked like some Mulan pyjamas and a pastel pink fluffy dressing gown over them. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, she looked a little sweaty, her eyes were half-closed as she looked at Cassian. This was not the poised and ready to step on his balls while wearing high heels Nesta he was used to.

“Hi sweetheart, are you okay?” Cassian forgot all about any ideas to woo Nesta, worry at the forefront of his mind now. Something was clearly wrong because Nesta would rather die than be seen in this state, especially by him.

“Hmm? Don’t call me that,” Nesta protested half-heartedly, her eyes still half-closed as she leaned against the door frame, her head moving to rest against it as though it was too heavy for her to carry.

Cassian decided to throw all caution to the wind and step forward, lightly touching her arm while balancing the ridiculous amounts of food he had bought for the two of them. “Nes, you don’t look very well. Are you okay?”

“I was gonna call you to cancel but then I got really tired and fell asleep. It was just really exhausting getting out of bed to go to the bathroom and kitchen so I had to rest on the sofa.” Nesta said softly. It was strange hearing the normally sharp-tongued Nesta sound so soft and sleepy. He had never seen her so vulnerable, and it made his heart swell.

“Why do you have your head against the doorframe sweetheart? You have a temperature too?”

“Yeah, I think so. Also, I’m a little dizzy right now. I’m not too bad when I’m ill usually, but the flu always affects my balance because once I had an ear infection.” She moved her head from the doorframe, turning her head to look at Cassian with those beautiful, sleepy eyes. As she moved her head, she swayed a bit, her grip tightening on the door frame as she did.

“Right, hang on a second,” Cassian said, quickly spurring into action and moving past her to put down the food he had bought on the kitchen counter, before rushing back to the front door, closing it and slowly guiding Nesta back to the sofa in her living area. Once he had Nesta safely seated, he let out a breath he had been holding.

“Thank you. You don’t have to stay, you know. As you can probably tell, I’m in no fit state to watch Lord of the Rings right now. Plus, the only correct way to do it is to marathon them and I don’t have the energy for that,” Nesta let out a small, sad-sounding sigh which sounded more like she was struggling to breathe as she lay herself down.

“That’s fine, we can watch Lord of the Rings another time. I don’t mind,” Cassian smiled at her softly as he grabbed the blanket at the foot of the sofa and covered her in it.

Nesta frowned. “You don’t have to stay,” she repeated.

“I know I don’t have to stay, but I want to stay.”

There was silence as Nesta looked at Cassian, confusion written all over her face plain as day. She never made it this easy to read her, but Cassian enjoyed the fact that for once, he might be able to guess what’s going on in her head.

“I… I don’t… why?”

“Why not? You’re ill, nobody else is here. I’m not going to let you deal with this on your own, especially when you tell me you’re getting dizzy. It’s not safe. Plus, I don’t mind what we do, even if it’s just sitting here and watching some mindless TV while you doze off. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Oh,” was all Nesta could say to Cassian’s confession. He couldn’t be sure, but she almost sounded shocked? But surely not, because he always told her how much he enjoyed talking to her.

“Okay, so have you had any food, water or medicine today?” Cassian asked, getting into his ‘nurse Cassian’ way of thinking, as Azriel had lovingly named it back when Azriel had been very ill when they were younger. Cassian just couldn’t help himself, he always felt the need to protect those he loved.

“I had some water and 2 cookies when I woke up. I fell asleep pretty soon after so I haven’t had anything else yet.”

Cassian frowned. “Nesta, it’s now past 6. Are you telling me that all you’ve had today is 2 cookies and a glass of water? What the fuck!”

“I fell asleep, that’s why! I only just woke up when you knocked on my door. Plus, it’s not so bad, I woke up at 1 pm today so it’s only been a few hours,” Nesta said defensively, a little sharpness returning to her voice.

“No wonder you’re feeling dizzy, you’ve not had any medicine or anything of nutritional value to eat, and most of the day has passed! Come on, what do you want to eat? Anything specific?”

“I don’t care as long as it’s not soup. I’m not dying, I still want real food, and soup never tastes good. Plus, I used to have it all the time when I was younger, it reminds me too much of starving and shoving random things in a pot to make ‘soup’ that we would have tiny little portions of so that it would last us a week.”

Cassian has never heard Nesta talk about their childhood. He knew from Feyre how tough things had been, but Nesta had never once spoken about it. He had always assumed that she didn’t care, and from what Feyre had told them, both her and Elain had pretended nothing was happening. Perhaps, Cassian mused, there was more going on there too, more than what she had let her sisters see.

“Okay, no soup. I made a pasta bake so we could always have that. It just needs to go into the oven for a little while. Does that sound good to you?” Nesta nodded, making Cassian smile.

He was glad that his pasta bake would come to good use. He was just glad that despite the fact that Nesta probably didn’t want him here, she didn’t seem to be kicking him out. He wanted to be able to help her and look after her. She hated people seeing her vulnerable, he knew that, and he was honoured that she was putting up with him and allowing him to be there for her.

Cassian walked over to the kitchen, put the oven on and pulled some dishes out of Nesta’s cupboards while the oven warmed up. Once the oven was warmed up, he put the pasta bake into the oven and set a timer on his phone, making sure it was on vibrate so it didn’t make too much noise and startle Nesta.

While he had been rattling around in the kitchen, Nesta had put the TV on and started Netflix up and was looking through to find something to watch. She eventually decided on Queer Eye but had the volume on very quietly, so it was just some comfortable background silence. Cassian glanced at her on the sofa and saw her struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Where do you keep your medicine?” Cassian asked, deciding he should also see what she had in her medicine cupboard too.

“There’s some in the small cupboard right at the end and then there’s some stuff in the bathroom cupboard too,” Nesta answered, jolting at the sound of his voice as she kept almost falling asleep. Cassian could see that she was fighting valiantly to stay awake. She would probably fight the illness with the same kind of energy and knowing Nesta, be fine in no time through sheer determination alone.

Cassian looked through the cupboards and managed to find some lemsip tablets in the bathroom, as well as the powdered stuff in the kitchen. “Do you want lemsip powder or tablets?” he asked as he walked towards her, holding both up in his hands.

“Ugh, the tablets for sure. The powered stuff tastes like shit. I used to suffer through it and drink that shit until Feyre told me that there was a tablet form of it.” Nesta looked at the offending powder with disdain, narrowing her eyes at it as though it had offended her.

“Okie dokie! The powder stuff is definitely evil. I don’t know how we’re expected to drink it. It does not taste like lemon and lime, it tastes like lies and poison.” Cassian said, throwing the powder back into the cupboard.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket and he quickly went to take the pasta out of the oven. He quickly plated it up for Nesta, putting it on the coffee table in front of her along with the biggest glass he could find, full of water. He then went to get his own plate and water and sat beside her.

Nesta looked at him suspiciously and then looked at the pasta in front of her. Cassian just grinned at her and started eating. Nesta watched him for a minute, before following his lead. Cassian knew as soon as she had put the fork in her mouth because Nesta let out a positively sinful moan.

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Nesta said, looking over at Cassian, her eyes widened with shock.

Cassian felt his cheeks heat a little, a combination of her praise and the incredibly sexy noise she had let out. He would usually have made a dirty comment after hearing a noise like that, but he decided to hold back for once, only going easy on Nesta because she was ill.

Nesta ate the food at a slightly alarming pace, and Cassian was half worried that she would choke on her food at the speed she was eating, and was on edge just in case he needed to quickly stop her from choking. Nesta didn’t pay him any attention, eating and watching Queer Eye.

When her plate was empty, she drank some of her water. Cassian got up, taking both the plates to the sink and grabbing the cold and flu tablets and handing them to Nesta. She silently took one, before lying back down again.

Cassian turned back to the kitchen when he heard a soft “thank you” coming from the sofa. He stopped in his tracks, not quite sure he had heard it right. He looked at the TV, wondering if he had just heard it from that, and then looked at Nesta, who was watching him.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Cassian asked as he started washing their dishes.

“I know you heard me, don’t ruin it now by being a bastard.” Cassian simply raised his eyebrow at her, before drying his hands and putting cling film on the remaining pasta and putting it in the fridge. “I said, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed the food,” he said, sitting down near Nesta’s feet. She lifted them to make room for him. As he sat down, he pulled her feet back into his lap. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better. I guess you were right about the whole food thing making me feel better.”

“Wow, who would’ve thought we’d see the day where Nesta Archeron admits I was right?” Cassian said, feigning shock. Nesta huffed and gave his leg a light kick. “But seriously, you knew the food would make you feel better. You should take better care of yourself. Or maybe, let others in to take care of you from time to time. Like this, us right now.”

“But I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Nesta said, not angry, the way she had said those words many times in the past. Just softly, stating a fact, but her voice tinged with confusion.

“Look, Nesta, admitting that you need help occasionally doesn’t mean you’re weak. Everyone needs help from time to time. Needing someone to take care of you when you’re ill doesn’t mean you’re needy or dependent or a burden on someone, it just means you’re human. And believe it or not, not everyone is out to get you. There are people in your life who would gladly help you, and ask for nothing in return.”

“Like you?” she looked at Cassian with an emotion etched on her beautiful face that he had never seen before. It was hope, softness, and perhaps maybe even fondness for him, all rolled into one.

“Nesta Archeron, I would drop everything to come and help you with whatever you needed, however stupid or mundane you might think it is.” Nesta looked away, and let a small smile grow on her face. Cassian had seen Nesta smile before, don’t get him wrong, but they were more smirks and ‘I’ll kill you’ smiles, in the heat of their arguments. This smile was something different altogether, and it reminded him of how Nesta truly took his breath away.

“I’m tired,” Nesta said after a few minutes of silence.

“Okay, well then you need to sleep.” Cassian stood up, switching the TV off, pulling the blanket off of her and picking her up. She barely weighed anything, which worried Cassian. He didn’t want to annoy Nesta by monitoring her eating habits, especially because he didn’t know why she was so underweight and that could be a risky move, but he hoped he would be able to get her to eat more. He’d even cook for her himself if she wanted.

Nesta, surprisingly, did not react when he picked her up. She just put her arms around his neck and stared at him as he carried her into her room. He placed her softly onto the bed, took her dressing gown off her and hung it up, then tucked her into bed. He then went back into the living room, picked her glass up from the coffee table, filled it up with fresh water and put it on her bedside cabinet, next to some more cold and flu tablets. He then turned to leave Nesta in peace, when she called out for him.

“Cassian?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asked, turning around. “Do you need anything else?” Nesta nodded, then gestured for him to come closer.

He walked closer until he was looming over her bed. She slowly reached out for his hand, and kissed the back of it, then let go and smiled at him. “Thank you, for taking care of me.”

“Is that what the kiss was for?” Nesta nodded. “Well sweetheart, if you want to thank me then there are plenty of ways you can thank me when you’re feeling better,” he smiled.

“I would’ve kissed you properly now but I don’t want you to get ill either. I’m nowhere near as good of a nurse as you are.”

“What you might lack in the care department, you could make up by wearing a sexy nurse costume.” he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She laughed. “I think that would make you stay sick for longer.”

“I think you’re right,” he said, joining her in her laughter.

Nesta’s laughter subsided. She stared at him openly, her eyes roaming all over him. “Will you stay?” she said eventually, so quiet he could’ve missed it if there wasn’t total silence around them.

“Stay here?” he asked dumbly, not quite believing she would want him to continue to intrude, especially when she was about to sleep.

“Yes. Stay with me, please,” she said, her soft sleepy voice returning, her eyes starting to close before she opened them again. Cassian could see how much force and effort it was taking for her to keep her eyes open. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He grabbed Nesta’s armchair, where she no doubt spent many an hour reading her romance books, and pushed it until it was close enough to the bed that Nesta could reach out for him if she wanted.

He sat down on the chair, and Nesta instantly grabbed his hand, the same one she had kissed. He watched as she drifted off in a matter of minutes, the medicine making sleep come to her a lot quicker than usual. Even as she drifted off, she did not stop holding his hand at all. Cassian ran his thumb over the back of her hand softly, repeating the motion as he stared at the beautiful woman before him. He wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a dream, but if it was he never wanted to wake. Nesta’s face was much more relaxed now she was asleep, the frown lines and pursed lips smoothed out. She looked, younger, and almost carefree, apart from the clear signs of fatigue that lined her face. The bags under her eyes were prominent, and Cassian knew she studied into the night, working herself too hard.

Still, Cassian mused to himself, perhaps now that Nesta had let him in, he could convince her to take better care of herself. He needed to make sure that she knew that Cassian was in this for the long haul, and perhaps she would lower her walls more, and finally let him in.

As he drifted off to sleep, still holding her hand, he realised that perhaps she already had let him in.

End Notes: Thank you to everyone who is reading! Please let me know what you thought of it. Also, I've realised that perhaps some of the things I mentioned are very British? I'm not entirely sure but I figured I'd give an explanation just in case.

Yorkies are a chocolate bar, which used to have the slogan 'not for girls' which is obviously very dumb. They changed it years ago, however, before they changed it, when I was younger, I ate the chocolate bar out of spite because the slogan and some boys said I couldn't do it. The adrenaline rush was just wow, a lot at the time for an 8-year-old.

Lemsip is medicine for colds and flu. Most people tend to have the powdered stuff, which you have to mix into boiling water and drink like its tea. It claims to be lemon and lime flavoured but it's actually just lies and makes me gag because it's disgusting. I was very offended because I suffered for all these years but then my sister told me there were tablets too??? Betrayal??? Nobody bothered to tell me???

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #my fic #i've not even properly proofread this so there may be mistakes #not sure if i even like it i'm just posting it #also posted on a03 #text

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