#it's always been our thing. and now neither of us even want to watch new sw stuff anymore.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Yuutsum 2

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other? Ortho's part is platonic as always.

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 2 Tsumsitters (Deuce; Azul; Jade; Kalim; Rook; Ortho; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland 2 Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

Azul's part is different from the one I wrote for the request. At the time the event had not yet reached the English server, if I'm not mistaken.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 1 (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

Yuutsum 3 (Ace; Trey; Ruggie; Jamil; Vil; Idia; Malleus; Silver)

CONTEXT: Like the original Twisted Tsumderland 2 event, this takes place after the events of the first Twisted Tsumderland. And, surprise, your Tsum is back! But it's the only one, all the other Tsums that came with it are completely new visitors.

You were with your Tsum in the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm, and it wouldn't leave the window as if it was waiting for something. You ask if it wants to go somewhere, but it shakes its head and continues looking out the window.

A short time later you heard a loud bang at the front door as if something had been thrown at it, and your Tsum finally leaves the window and hops towards the door. Even before you open the door, you can hear Ace laughing and Deuce complaining.

When you open it, you find Deuce struggling to contain his Tsum who is trying to break free from his arms.

“Sorry (Y/N).” Deuce apologizes “I can't contain this guy. It started running... or hopping, like crazy when it realized we were going to pass by here.”

Your Tsum makes that cute tsum noise to get the attention of Deuce and his tsum. The two look down and their eyes light up as they see your Tsum. Deuce’s tsum breaks free from Deuce's arms and lands right next to your Tsum. And the two tsums begin to rub their little faces and noses against each other. Deuce blushes automatically.

Ace, who watched the whole scene, stopped laughing and was now looking at the tsums with a sulky face. “Oi? What's up now with this guy?” he questions.

“I-I-I don't know.” It's the only thing Deuce can say in response.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Ace continues. “Your Tsum came back? Why? Our housewarden's didn't. Neither did Cater's.”

You say you don't know.

“Maybe your tsum is dragged into everyone's messes too.” Deuce says, smiling. “Not even it has a break with us, hum?”

Your Tsum headbutts Deuce's Tsum to get its attention, taps one of its little hands on the ground 5 times and Deuce's Tsum realizes the urgency of something. The two tsums start hopping towards the gate.

“OI! WHERE ARE YOU GOING NOW?” Deuce shouted.

The three of you run after the Tsums, but they reach the Hall of Mirrors first and go through the mirror to Heartslabyul.

“Well, on the one hand they saved us work.” Ace says.

“Yes, but they are on the loose!” Deuce replies.

You go through the mirror, run a little further and stop abruptly when you come across Riddle and Trey. Your tsums were close to their feet and were still very close to each other.

“See? They arrived on time.” Trey says. “They must have just had a little mishap with the tsums. Right?”

Ace and Deuce confirm. Riddle welcomes you and invites you to the Unbirthday Party that will be happening soon. He also tells Ace and Deuce to go do their party preparation duties. After he and Trey leave, Deuce realizes what happened.

“I get it now. Your tsum was telling mine the time, and warning it that we were going to be late.”

“Damn, even your Tsum needs two Tsumsitters.” Ace laughs. And Deuce-tsum hits him.

When it was preparing to hit him a second time, your Tsum got in the way and started rubbing its face against Deuce-tsum’s, calming it down.

“See my point?” Ace adds, and this time it's your Tsum that hits him.

You were walking through the school hallways, with your Tsum in your arms, when you crossed paths with Floyd. He automatically smiled when he saw your Tsum.

You ask each other what the other is doing there and Floyd tells you that he was playing a board game with Azul and his Tsum. He says that he left them playing with each other in the classroom. You feel your Tsum move excitedly in your arms.

After saying goodbye to each other you go to the classroom where Floyd said they were. You knock on the door and pop your head inside. You see both Azul and his Tsum immersed in the game, but not enough to not notice your presence.

“Oh, good afternoon (Y/N).” Azul greets you with a smile. His Tsum quickly looks towards the door when it hears him say your name. “Please come in.” You do so. “Is there anything you need or-” He sees your Tsum and widens his eyes with a sparkle in them.

Azul-tsum makes that happy tsum sound, jumps to the floor, stops for a second, jumps back onto the table to make its move on the board game, and then gets off the table again to hop happily towards you. Your tsum jumps out of your arms and lands on the ground. And when Azul-tsum finally reaches yours the two begin to cuddle with each other.

Azul was focused on the game and only after making his play “Okay tsum, your tu-” did he look at the two tsums, and blushes slightly. He clears his throat loudly causing his tsum to look at him.

Azul’s tsum turns to yours and makes another cute sound, then the two of them hop back to the table. Azul's tsum returns to its place on the other side of the board, but yours jumps into Azul's arms to his surprise. He managed to catch it, then it looked at him and smiled with its eyes, making Azul stare at it in wonder.

“I'll concede that you are indeed charmingly cute.” He then whispers to himself: “As much as the person you resemble.”

You approach to sit with them and Azul suggests that you sit next to his tsum. The two Azuls exchange a suspicious look with each other.

They keep playing. When it's not Azul's turn, your tsum makes little sounds or something that makes him look at it. And when it's not Azul-tsum's turn, it seems to be undecided between paying attention to the board or looking at you so you can pet it. In the end, the two were practically tied, but Azul-tsum makes a play that makes it win the game. Both his tsum and your tsum celebrate, coming back to cuddle with each other.

“Ah, so that was your real move.” Azul said with a smirk. “You used (Y/N)'s tsum to distract me. Actually no, worse than that, you two are partners in crime.”

The two tsums looked smugly at Azul. But he didn't seem upset despite having lost. In fact, he seemed to be looking thoughtfully at the tsums. You ask what's wrong or if he's okay.

“Oh, don't worry, it's nothing. I was just thinking...” He looks back at the tsums who look back at him with an encouraging look. Both of them. “From what I've been able to observe, tsums have a lot in common with the person they resemble, especially their personality. After seeing how these two work together I was just wondering...” He looks at you and smiles confidently. “Wouldn't you happen to have the same interest as your tsum in being my partner too? Hum... partner in crime, I mean.”

You were walking through the Main street with your Tsum in your arms, when you see a little thing hopping towards you. It stops right in front of you, at your feet, and smiles at you with its eyes, making that cute tsum sound, as if it were greeting you politely. From the side where the dark grey strand is facing and from the calm demeanor, you can tell it's Jade's tsum.

Your tsum makes the cute tsum sound back to Jade-tsum and you let your tsum jump to the ground for the two to rub their faces against each other.

After that, you hear footsteps approaching you. Looking ahead you see Jade. His tsum looks at him and then jumps into your arms smiling at you with its cute little eyes. When Jade gets close to you he laughs.

“He he. You are quite cunning indeed, tsum. Or should I just say coward at this point?” He was still smiling, but with that look that was worryingly difficult to decode. Then he looks at you. “Forgive me for not greeting you first, (Y/N). I got... worried about the tsum when I lost sight of it. I'm genuinely relieved that you were the one to find it safe and sound.” He looks down at your tsum. “Aw, what a lovely sight, your sweet tsum is back.”

You feel Jade-tsum tense up in your arms, but it barely moves. Jade bends down and holds out his cupped hands for your tsum to jump into them. You feel Jade-tsum once again tense slightly, but without moving. Jade raises your tsum in front of his face. It smiles at him innocently.

“Undoubtedly adorable.” Jade says. “But you shouldn't just jump into anyone's hands like that.” He lowers his hands to chest height, holds the tsum with one hand while, with the other, he makes a claw-like movement as if he were going to imprison it. “It could be dangerous.” He looks at his own tsum in your arms, who still doesn't move.

“But it didn't just jump into anyone's hands.” You say. He looks at you meeting your eyes. “However you're right, it can be very dangerous. But you should have told that to YOUR tsum.”

Both Jade and his Tsum are surprised by what you said. And suddenly you tighten your hug around Jade-tsum as if you were Floyd squeezing someone. But in this case, you are squeezing the tsum with love and affection. It waves its little arms and legs as if it were asking for help, but not trying very hard to escape.

Jade laughs delightedly, and frees your tsum from his clutches, taking it to his chest just to pet it affectionately. He looks at that little angel face face that knew he wouldn't hurt you or your tsum and smiles.

“In fact, you are a danger on the loose.” He jokes. “Tell me, would the both of you like to accompany me and my little lookalike to Mostro Lounge? We came here for a stroll around campus because I thought it would be a nice bonding exercise. But I’m sure that something like sharing a smoothie, for example, could also be great for bonding.”

You look happy with the idea of going with them to Mostro Lounge. But in the meantime you realize that tsums don't have mouths. How could they share a drink?

“Oh, well, perhaps I wasn't referring to the tsums.” He smiles at you with that bold confidence.

Kalim, his tsum and Jamil took a magic carpet tour of campus. Kalim-tsum’s eyes were sparkling the whole time during it, but something must have piqued its interest because after that it disappeared.

Meanwhile, you were with your tsum in the Ramshackle Dorm lounge when you heard someone knocking on the door. You open it to find... no one. Until you hear that happy tsum sound near your feet. You look down and see a Kalim-tsum smiling at you with its eyes.

As soon as you say hello, it wastes no time in jumping on your shoulder and brushing its face against your cheek. You hear another tsum sound behind you. You turn around and Kalim-tsum sees your tsum. Kalim-tsum makes another happy sound and jumps off your shoulder to hug your tsum. Or at least that's what it looked like despite its short arms.

If that tsum was there without Kalim, most likely he was looking for it. And consequently Jamil too. Therefore, you decide to take the two tsums in your arms and go find Kalim.

Just as you predicted, you found Kalim and Jamil together on Main Street. When Kalim sees you from afar, he happily waves his arms in the air to call you to join them.

“Hi (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you. “I'm so glad I found you! I really wanted you to meet-” He looks at the two little creatures you carry in your arms when you get close to him. “AH! You found it! You're amazing!”

Jamil sighs with relief. And then they both realize what, or rather, who, the other little creature is. Kalim's eyes shine and a huge smile spreads across his face.

“It can't be! There's one like you too! It's so cute! Aw, I want to hug it so much! Can I? Can I? Pretty pleeease~?”

If you’re more outgoing, your tsum will smile with its eyes at him. If you are more shy, your tsum will be too flattered and hide its face in your arms. Which will make Kalim find it even cuter.

“I know they may look like plushies,” Jamil says “but I don’t think you should treat them like one.”

“Don't worry, I won't hurt it.” Kalim says both to Jamil and to you.

“I'm also worried about the other way around. If that is even possible.”

“What? No way!” Kalim stretches out his arms welcomingly for your tsum to jump into them. And it does. He turns to Jamil. “You don't really think this adorable little thing would hurt anyone, do you?”

Jamil looks at your tsum, who smiles at him with its eyes and he blushes slightly to the point of having to look away. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“And I am a great judge of character.” Kalim completed confidently. He brings your tsum close to his face to see it better. “Oh, if you were bigger I could hug you for real.”

This gives your tsum an idea and suddenly it starts to grow, which takes everyone by surprise, until it stops at the size of a pillow. Kalim has no other way to hold it other than hugging it and that's what he does. He hugs it tight like it's the most adorable thing on earth and he never wants to let it go.

And apparently, Kalim's tsum wants the same treatment, but from you, so it also grows to the size of a pillow for you to hug it.

Jamil looks at you all slightly uncomfortably and can only say: “If you ever do that to each other, at least get a room first.”

It was already late in the afternoon. You were walking across campus with your tsum in your arms when you heard a "CUT!". You have heard that a few other times before, it was Vil's voice and he must have been filming something for the film club.

Your tsum moves in your arms as if it was also curious to see what he was doing. You follow the sound and walk until you reach the Main Street.

“Rehearsal is over.” You hear Vil say and you stop. “Now we must capture this scene before the sun sets. Focus!”

That sounded like your cue not to interrupt him. You weren't at a place where you could appear in the frame, so you just wait there, watching, just like your tsum. However, someone else was watching the scene as well, hidden in the bushes.

“Now the real fun begins.” Rook says, both to his tsum and to Epel, that he dragged it with him. “Let us watch Vil and the rest of the club shine!”

Rook's tsum hops eagerly and the two observe Vil, until something else catches the tsum's attention and it looks to the side. Rook notices this.

“You changed the target of your attention, monsieur tsum. What could have possible divert your gaze from Vil?” He follows the tsum's gaze and finds you, standing there watching Vil. “Bien sûr, there could only be one reason.” He sees your Tsum in your arms. “Oh, marvelous! Tricster's tsum is back! Even more beauty to behold.”

Everything goes smoothly until the end of the recordings. And it is only when Vil sees you and greets you that you approach him. His attention (and everyone's actually) goes to your tsum.

“I see you've also been assigned as a tsumsitter.” Vil says. “I heard it had shown up the first time this happened, but I ended up not having the pleasure of meeting it. I'm glad I got this chance.” He smiles at your tsum who looks at him in wonder. “One also appeared in Pomefiore. A Rook lookalike.”

You feel your tsum spasm in your arms, and then you hear something jumping towards you. You turn around and a wild Rook-tsum appears and greets you with that happy tsum sound.

Your tsum jumps to the ground and lets Rook-tsum approach it first. It jumps to get closer to your tsum but, to everyone's surprise, your tsum dodges and runs away.

You panic a little, your tsum had never done that until now, and Rook-tsum goes jumping after your tsum, even though it has already lost sight of it. You are about to start running to look for them when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You are startled by Rook's sudden appearance.

“Worry not, trickster. I have been following monsieur tsum and it has been an enriching experience. You could accompany me and we can observe them together. There is no place they can go that I won't find them.” he winks.

You go with Rook following your tsums. You notice that every now and then your tsum stops as if provoking Rook-tsum and when it is about to catch your tsum, it dodges again and continues running away.

“How fascinating.” Rook laughs “Tell me, doesn't it look like they're playing with each other?”

You continue following the tsums to the botanical garden, already in the early evening. Where they finally stop. Or rather, where your tsum finally lets itself be caught, in the subtropical zone. You see Rook-tsum clinging to your tsum and making a movement with its head as if were kissing your tsum passionately.

“I wonder...” Rook says “If this is all some kind of mating ritual for the tsums.” he laughs seeing your reaction. “What's wrong, trickster? That look is not from someone who dislikes the idea~ Is there anything your heart would like to share? Because any question you have about mine can be answered by looking at monsieur tsum.”

You were walking through campus with your Tsum in your arms when you heard something above you.

“PREFECT!” You hear Ortho's voice shout from somewhere. “LOOK OUT!”

You see an unidentified flying object coming towards you at high speed. Your instinct is to cower and duck. But the object stopped before it hit you and landed on the ground in front of you. You look and see an Ortho-tsum. Ortho approaches you.

“He he he. Did we scare you? Sorry. Are you OK?” He asks. You answer that you are. “I’m glad. We just wanted to surprise you. Have you already heard of these little creatures called tsums, (Y/N)?”

You stand up, revealing your tsum that had been hidden in your arms when you ducked. Both Ortho and his tsum are happy to see your tsum.

“OH! One like you also appeared! So cool!”

Ortho-tsum uses its new device to fly towards your tsum, who got surprised by it. Your tsum jumps from your arms to the ground and gestures for Ortho-tsum to come closer to it.

Ortho-tsum lands near your tsum again and it starts walking around ortho-tsum as if it is examining the new device suspiciously. The tsum make sounds as if they were chatting.

“I don't know what they're saying...” Ortho laughs. “But from the tone and what they're doing, it seems like your tsum is worried about my tsum's new antigravity device. The audio of the noises I'm capturing sounds similar to a scene from a movie I have stored in my memory, where an older sister is saying things like 'Where did you get that?', ‘Are you sure it's safe?’, ‘You could get hurt.’ Ha ha ha.”

After this conversation between the tsums, Ortho's tsum flies for a second, lands again and makes an inviting sound for your tsum. It jumps on Ortho-tsum's back and the two slowly and carefully take flight.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum. Will you play with us too (Y/N)? Pretty Please?”

If you feel safe with Ortho, he will take you flying on his back. If you're scared he'll say: “It's okay, I understand. We can play close to the ground. We don't need to go up to the clouds to have fun together."

After walking around campus you decided to stop to rest on one of the benches in the Courtyard. You sit down and your tsum stays on your lap. A few seconds later, when you thought you could rest a little, something falls into your lap and on top of your tsum, startling you both.

After enjoying your reactions, the new tsum jumps next to you on the bench and turns to face you. It's a Lilia's tsum.

“Yay! Your tsum is back!” A voice behind you startles you and your tsum again, making it jump from your lap to Lilia-tsum's side.

Your tsum starts making sounds like it's complaining, but Lilia-tsum starts rubbing its face against your tsum to calm it down.

“Khee hee hee. Sorry.” Lilia says upside down, floating next to you. “You were trying to rest, weren't you?” He gestured for the tsums to move away so he could sit next to you.

They jump into your lap, where they get so close that it looks more like they're snuggling in a nest.

“I know it may not seem like it, but my tsum was getting tired too. But neither it nor I could resist surprising you and your tsum. Isn't it as charming and cute as me?”

You look at the tsums in your lap who seemed to be cuddled up sleeping. You joke that Tsum can be cuter.

“Ow, you're just saying that because of the plush shape it has. But looking at you and your tsum, I understand what you mean. Your tsum is also cuter than you.” He sees you pout slightly, and smiles mischievously. “Khee hee hee. Looks like someone didn't like being hit with their own spell.”

Lilia-tsum wakes up from its short nap and jumps to the ground, waking up your tsum as well. Lilia-tsum makes an inviting happy sound to your tsum, who also jumps off your lap to join it.

“I think it wants to play with your tsum now.”

You and Lilia follow your tsums to see what they will do. They prank a student. He was distracted reading a magazine when Lilia-tsum makes a sound that catches his attention. He looks, sees Lilia's tsum, rubs his eyes, looks again, and sees Lilia's and yours tsums. He rubs his eyes again, looks again and only sees your tsum. He gets up startled, looks the other way, looks back to where the tsum were and there is nothing there anymore. You hear him walking away wondering if he's going crazy or hallucinating.

You and Lilia laugh. And then Lilia has another idea for a prank.

The four of you go to the library and find two students chatting at a table. One of them is telling the other that he had seen Lilia transform into a small, round creature in front of him. The other wondered if it was some shapeshifting spell or some prank of Lilia's. Lilia-tsum hopped over to them.

“SEE?! HERE! This was the creature I saw Lilia transform into!”

You appear and greet the students. Lilia-tsum jumps into your arms in front of them and Lilia casts a light spell that temporarily blinds them, long enough for your tsum to take your place. When the students look again, they find two tsums.

“AHH! It's not a spell, it's some curse!” the other student says. “If any of them touch us, we become one of them too!”

Your two tsums walk slowly but menacingly towards them, and the students run away. Lilia bursts out laughing.

“This must have been the best one yet. Don't you also think it's funny when two big boys run away in fear from a cute little thing?”

The two tsums return to you. Lilia-tsum looks tired.

“We don't have that much stamina at this age, do we?” Lilia says smiling. He holds out his arms for his tsum to jump into them, but it doesn't. “Um? You don't want me to carry you?”

Lilia-tsum walks up to your tsum and cuddles with it.

“Oho, I see. In that case...” Lilia takes his blazer off his shoulders and ties the ends together as if making a hammock. “Okay you little lovebirds, here's a nest for you.” The two tsums jump in and snuggle together. “In fact, there is one thing cuter than our separate tsums: them together.” He looks at you, but the cute smile turns into a mischievous one when he sees your face. “What's wrong? Don't tell me you don't think they would make a pretty couple. That would break my heart.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[lihhelsing]

Eddie and Steve who dated for a while but broke up over the most dumb shit. Neither of them wants to admit they were wrong so they just go on like that.

After 6 months, Dustin starts texting Eddie at least once a week asking if he and Steve are back together already.

At first, Eddie laughs it off. The kid went through an adaptation process when he first learned the two of them were together so it's expected that he needs a minute to wrap his head around their break up.

In the first month, everyone thought they would get back together.

And then it just didn't happen.

Dustin would text the most random things.

"Steve's getting us tacos. Does that mean you're back together?"

"Steve's watching Star Wars. I'm sure you're back together."

"Steve bought a new vinyl player. Did you two made up?"

At first, Eddie would just laugh and say no. But the texts went from once a week to every other day. Sometimes it was just like "when are you two getting back together?" and it broke Eddie's heart a little.

Things changed when Dustin sent a photo of Steve sleeping in one of Eddie's shirt.

He texted Steve the next day, asking if they could talk.

Eddie apologized. Said he couldn't live without him. He missed him too much. And Steve apologized too.

They kissed, fell into bed together and never looked back.

A few weeks in, they were all at Steve's place. Eddie was doing a DnD one shot for the kids and Steve was there just because he couldn't stand being apart from Eddie for too long.

Sometimes Eddie would even let him sit on his lap during the session, which always earned a few eye rolls from the kids.

But he didn't care. What mattered is that he had his baby with him again.

Everyone was getting ready to play, Steve was setting up the snacks table when Eddie spoke.

"Kinda miss when you texted me every day, Henderson."

Dustin looked up at him with a confused expression.

"What?"

Eddie smiled. "I know you got what you wanted. I just think we could text more often still."

Dustin shook his head, laughing. "Sure man, whatever. I don't think I texted you outside of our gc in over a year but I can do that if you want."

Now it was Eddie's turn to be confused.

"What?"

But Dustin was already engaged in another conversation and it was only when he looked at Steve that he understood.

Steve was looking at him wide eyed, hands froze mid-air. Eddie frowned at him, a silent conversation and Steve just shrugged, laughing it off.

Damn. Had he been tricked by Steve Harrington into getting back together with Steve Harrington?

[screaminglygay]

New way back

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader, past!natasha romanoff x reader, wanda maximoff x reader

summary: after the tension becomes too much, you and natasha break up, leaving behind feelings neither of you can shake. you leave S.H.I.E.L.D. to start over, while natasha finds her place with the avengers. when the maximoff twins join, fate leads you to wanda in a quiet bookstore and what begins as something small slowly grows into something real. but the past never stays buried for long.

warnings: cursing, swearing, emotional angst, past relationship tension, natasha struggling with unresolved feelings, mild miscommunication, lingering heartbreak, slow healing

word count: 10k

an: i just want to say thank you - truly. I’m so happy people are enjoying this story, and your support means more than I can say. It’s been such a joy to write, and I appreciate every single comment<3

part one I part two I part three

It´s the end of the week, so of course there is another party going on. S.H.I.E.L.D. was worse than some collage campus. The music thumped through the walls, the steady bass vibrating through the floor as laughter and chatter filled the air. It was supposed to be a good night, an easy night. A chance to let go, to be close, to have fun together. But it wasn’t. Not for you.

Not when Natasha was across the room, leaning into Maria Hill, smirking at whatever she was whispering in her ear. Not when every little touch, every lingering glance, every laugh felt like it wasn’t meant for you anymore.

You had put up with a lot. You had swallowed the jealousy, reminded yourself that you trusted her, told yourself it didn’t mean anything. That she just wanted to be liked. That she was figuring things out.

But this?

This was your final straw.

You had waited for your moment, watching the way Maria touched her wrist, the way Natasha let her fingers trail down the length of her arm, the way she didn’t pull away.

But when your song came on… the one she used to pull you into her arms for without hesitation, you thought this would be the moment she remembered. The moment she’d look at you, smile, and tug you close like she always did.

You weaved through the crowd, heart pounding, gripping her wrist gently. "Nat! It’s our song!"

She turned her head, the hint of an annoyed expression flitting across her face before she smirked and turned back to Maria, rolling her eyes.

"See what I have to struggle with?" she said with a laugh, making sure Maria could hear.

You froze.

Maria giggled, nudging Natasha’s shoulder, clearly entertained. And that was it. That was all it took for your heart to crack, for everything inside you to shatter into something raw and unbearable. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t want to cry in front of her. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

So you left. You pushed through the bodies, ignored the heat burning behind your eyes, ignored the way your hands shook, ignored everything until you made it up to the rooftop, where the cold air hit your skin like a slap.

It didn’t stop the tears from falling.

You curled your arms around yourself, shoulders shaking, and let them come. The sobs, the heartbreak, the frustration, the helplessness - everything you had been holding in, everything you had tried to push down.

You didn’t even hear her footsteps until she was there, standing in the doorway.

"There you are," Natasha said, as if this was normal. As if this was okay. "Maria’s about to play beer pong… figured you’d wanna watch."

You scoffed, wiping at your face, not bothering to hide how wrecked you looked. "Are you serious?"

Natasha frowned, stepping closer, "what-"

"I can’t do this anymore," you said, voice trembling, raw with emotion.

Natasha stilled, "baby-"

"No," you cut her off, shaking your head. "Don’t ‘baby’ me right now, Natasha. I’m done."

Her face fell, "wait-"

"You ignored me all night," you choked out, "for her. For them. I know you want people to like you. I get that. But when did I stop being enough?" The words were barely above a whisper, but they cut deeper than anything else.

Natasha’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. And in that silence, in that moment of hesitation, you saw it. You saw the way she didn’t have an answer. And that hurt more than anything.

You inhaled sharply, exhaling a broken laugh. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

You turned to leave, but her hand caught your wrist. "Wait," she whispered, voice barely audible.

You looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the fear, the desperation, the way she looked like she was about to lose something she had never thought she’d have.

But it was too late. You gently pulled your arm away. "I love you, Natasha," you said, voice cracking. "But I can’t keep trying to make this work when it’s only tearing me apart inside."

And with that, you walked away, leaving her standing there, alone. Lonelier than she had ever been.

The days after the break-up were long and filled with an aching emptiness that Natasha tried her best to ignore. She plastered a cool girl exterior over everything, pretending that the world was just as it had always been - full of admirers and fleeting smiles. She didn’t want anyone to see how much it hurt, how much she regretted everything. Natasha had a reputation to uphold, and she would be damned if she let anyone see her broken.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t stand to be around it anymore. The flirting, the constant validation she was chasing from everyone but you, it left a bitter taste in your mouth. The thing was, you love her - loved her for who she was, not the show she put on for everyone else. But you were done. You needed to get away. For your own peace, for your own sanity.

You packed your things quietly, knowing that it would be difficult to leave behind the life you had built at S.H.I.E.L.D. But in the end, you realized that you couldn’t continue to fight for something that wasn’t meant to be. So, you made the decision. You were done. Standing in front of Fury’s desk was something that made your heart beat a little faster, but right now? You were calm. Completly.

"You’re one of the best scoring agent we have," Fury said, eyes narrowed, his voice firm. "You can’t just leave, (Y/L/N)"

His words cut through the air like a warning, but you already knew what you had to do. "I have to, sir." You said, your voice calm, but my heart heavy. "I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s not good to mix personal life with work. You’ve said it yourself."

Fury’s gaze softened for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced by the usual steely professionalism. He knew. He could see it. But he wouldn’t make it easy for you.

"You’re a damn good agent, (Y/L/N),” he muttered, almost to himself. "The door will be always open for you. Just so you know. Good luck,” he said quietly, his eyes giving you a nod of respect and with a shake of his hand you said your last goodbye.

You didn’t know what would come next. All you knew was that it was time to move on, to find peace somewhere else. And as you walked out of S.H.I.E.L.D.´s walls for the last time, you couldn’t help but wonder if Natasha would ever realize how much it hurt you. And how much you loved her for being her. For being your Natasha.

…

Time had a funny way of softening old wounds. Leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. had felt like cutting off a part of yourself at first, but in the end, it was the best thing you ever did. You found something new, something that didn’t revolve around stealth, danger, or constantly feeling like you had to fight for your place.

Now, you worked as a personal trainer at a gym in the city. It was a different kind of discipline - pushing people to be their best, celebrating their progress, watching them grow stronger. It felt good, fulfilling in a way you hadn’t expected. Your apartment was nice, filled with books and small comforts that made it feel like home. Life was steady. Life was good.

And then you met her.

It happened in the most unexpected, mundane way at a bookstore. You had been eyeing a deluxe edition of this book ferever, fingers just about to close around it when another hand reached for the same copy.

"Oh," you blinked, turning your head to find a pair of deep green eyes looking back at you. The woman in front of you smiled, a little sheepish but undeniably charming.

"Guess we have good taste," she said, her accent lilting around the words. You can´t place it, but it sounds Slavic-ish?

You let out a small laugh, your hand hesitating on the book. "Seems like it."

For a moment, neither of you moved. You could tell she wanted it, but she wasn’t being pushy about it. Just waiting. "You should take it," you said finally, stepping back.

Her brows lifted, "are you sure?"

You nodded, "yeah. I’ll find it another time."

Wanda glanced between you and the book, then back to you again, as if debating something. And then, with a small smirk, she tilted her head. "Well… if you’re letting me have the book, can I at least buy you a coffee?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the offer, but there was something so warm in the way she said it. Genuine.

You smiled, "you don’t have to do that."

"I know," she shrugged, "but I’d like to."

And somehow, fifteen minutes later, you were sitting in a cozy little café, two cups of coffee between you, lost in conversation about books, stories, and the kind of worlds that made reality feel a little more magical. She was smart, funny, and had this way of looking at you like she actually listens everything you were saying.

"So, you’re new to the city?" you asked, fingers curled around your coffee cup as you watched Wanda stir hers absentmindedly.

She nodded, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Yeah. I just moved here with my brother, Pietro… for work."

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your drink. "Work, huh? Sounds mysterious."

Wanda chuckled, shaking her head. "Nothing too exciting. At least, not yet." There’s a flicker of something behind her eyes, but it’s gone before you could place it. Instead, she leaned forward slightly. "What about you? Have you always lived in New York?"

You shook your head, "not always, but I’ve been here for a while. Long enough to call it home."

"Then I guess I should be asking you for tips," she chuckled.

You grinned, "well, first tip... don’t let the city chew you up and spit you out."

She smirked, "that’s very reassuring."

"I mean it in a good way," you laughed. "New York has this… way of testing you, but if you find your rhythm, it can be amazing. I hope you end up liking it here."

Wanda tilted her head, considering your words, "I think I already do."

There’s something in the way she said it, a certain softness to her voice that made your stomach flip, but before you could dwell on it, she asked, "what do you do for work?"

"I’m a personal trainer," you replied, and when Wanda’s eyes widened slightly, you added, "yeah, I know. Not what you were expecting?"

She shakeed her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "No, I just… I guess I didn’t think about it. But it makes sense."

You arched a brow. "Oh? And what exactly makes sense about it?"

She took a slow sip of her coffee, like she´s considering how to answer. Then, she gestured vaguely toward you. "I don’t know, you just… have this way of carrying yourself. Strong, confident." She paused, her smile turning a little teasing. "And you did let me have the book, so clearly, you’re generous, too."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Generosity has nothing to do with it. I just didn’t want to wrestle someone in the middle of a bookstore."

"That’s a shame," Wanda mused. "I think I’d have put up a good fight."

You chuckled, shaking your head at her. The conversation flowed so easily, like you’ve known her longer than just a handful of minutes.

It was… nice. Comfortable. And as Wanda watched you over the rim of her cup, eyes bright with amusement, you realized that - maybe - this little coffee date was exactly what you needed.

"You have an accent," you remarked, tilting your head curiously. "Where are you from, if you don´t mind me asking?"

Wanda put her coffee cup down and smiled softly, "Sokovia."

Your expression faltered for just a second. Sokovia. You know that name. You’ve heard it on the news, read about it online. The devastation, the aftermath… the way an entire country became a cautionary tale in the wake of destruction. You weren’t there, you didn’t live through it, but you remember seeing the images, the headlines.

"Oh… I’m sorry about that," you said gently, unsure if there’s a right way to address something like that.

Wanda hesitated, something flickering in her eyes before she shakes her head. "It’s okay," she said, voice quiet. "I just… I kind of realized over the years that home is wherever my brother is."

You took a slow breath, nodding, knowing how it feels to follow your brother everywhere. "Yeah. I get that."

For a moment, the two of you sat there, the weight of the conversation settling in the space between you. Then, Wanda offered a small, reassuring smile. "So, what about you?" she asked, shifting the topic slightly. "Do you have family around?"

You hesitated, the question stirring up a mix of emotions, but you just gave her a small shrug. "Not really. But I’ve built something for myself here. I like it."

Wanda studied you for a moment before nodding. "That’s very nice."

You held her gaze for a second longer before clearing your throat and offering a small smile. "Guess we both kind of found a new start, huh?"

Wanda chuckled softly. "Yeah. Seems that way."

And just like that, the conversation shifted again back to lighter things, to book recommendations and the best coffee spots in the city. But there was an unspoken understanding lingering between you, something that made the moment feel… easy. Like maybe you’ve stumbled across someone who understood you more than you´ve expected.

…

Over the years, you weren’t the only one who had worked on yourself. Natasha had, too.

At this point in her life, she had changed in ways you never could have imagined back then. She had gone to therapy - really gone, not just brushed it off. She had done the work, faced the wounds she used to cover with charm and distraction, and slowly, she had started healing. She learned how to be still with herself, how to sit with her emotions instead of burying them under layers of flirtation and detachment. She explored who she wanted to be, who she considered family. And the Avengers? They became that for her.

Now, Natasha was sure of herself, grounded in a way she never used to be. She had grown into the strong, steady woman the world now knew as The Black Widow… not just a name, not just a title, but a person who had fought for the right to be something more than a weapon.

And after Sokovia, she and Wanda had become casual friends. Not inseparable, not the closest of confidants, but they got along well. They worked together, trained together, laughed together when the moment allowed it. She tried to welcome Wanda and her brother, Pietro, as people and not as addition to the team. Because she knows what it feels like to be seen as a thing and not as a person.

Natasha had spent years learning how to be human. And now, she was.

So Natasha had taken it upon herself to make sure the Maximoff twins had everything they needed. It wasn’t an obligation, no one had asked her to do it. But she knew what it was like to be thrown into a new life, into a new world, and expected to just… figure it out.

So she made sure they had a place in the team, that they knew they weren’t just there because they were useful but because they belonged. She checked in, made sure they were settling in, reminded them that despite the chaos of the city, they had a home here. But she also knew better than to hover. Letting the twins find their own way was just as important as guiding them, so she stepped back. Pietro, of course, took to New York like he had been born for it. He was reckless, fast, endlessly amused by the sheer energy of the city. He explored every corner, tested every limit, and never seemed to stay in one place for long.

Wanda, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She enjoyed her time alone, quietly taking in this new life instead of running headfirst into it. And Natasha respected that. She gave Wanda the space to breathe, to process, to figure things out in her own way.

And Wanda did figure it out.

With you.

Which was ironic, really.

Neither of you knew it yet, but while Natasha had been stepping back to let Wanda find her own path, that path had quietly led to you. And it wasn’t like Wanda had meant to keep being it a secret, she just hadn’t mentioned it. She wasn’t the type to spill her personal life into casual conversation, and it wasn’t like she and Natasha were close enough to share those kinds of things. They worked together, laughed on occasion, but there was no deep, personal friendship that would lead to late-night confessions over a bottle of whiskey.

So she never told Natasha she was seeing someone.

And Natasha never thought to ask.

…

Getting to know Wanda was like unwrapping a gift. Slow, careful, peeling back layers one at a time. She wasn’t closed off, not really, but she was careful. Thoughtful. Like she was still figuring herself out, still deciding what pieces of herself she was ready to share. You didn’t mind.

You liked learning about her, bit by bit. The way she always hummed under her breath when she was reading, the way she tilted her head when she was listening, the way her accent softened when she got comfortable. The way she fidget with her silver rings. The way she smiled at every single puppy you saw on your walks.

She was learning about you too. Maybe in a more direct way than you realized.

Because sometimes, when you sat together, Wanda could hear the static hum of your thoughts. It wasn’t on purpose, she was still learning to control her powers, still figuring out the line between listening and intruding. And it wasn’t all the time. But when your thoughts got loud, when your overthinking started to spiral, she could feel it, like a quiet buzz in the back of her mind.

She never said anything about it. Never wanted to admit that she knew when you were doubting yourself, when you were wondering if she actually liked you, if this thing that´s going on between you was real.

But she knew. And she hated that she knew.

Because she liked you. A lot. And she wanted to tell you the truth about everything before it got too far, before you found out some other way. So, after a few dates, she finally sat you down.

"I need to tell you something," she said, chewing on her lip as she watched your expression carefully.

"Okay?" you said, setting your drink down, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"My brother and I…"she took a deep breath. "We’re Avengers."

There was a beat of silence.

You blinked.

And then, like a switch flipping, your expression shifted into pure surprise. "Oh."

"I wanted to tell you sooner, I just-" Wanda hesitated, her fingers twitching slightly against the table. "I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay just because of-"

"Wait, so you’re-" You shook your head, trying to process it all. "That’s… wow."

She stared at you, waiting for something, maybe for you to leave, maybe for you to say it was too much.

But then you laughed.

And it startled her, because that was the last reaction she expected, "what?" Wanda asked, still tense.

You leaned back, shaking your head in amusement. "That’s funny, because I used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D."

Now it was Wanda’s turn to blink. "…what?"

"I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. for years," you admitted with a small grin. "It’s actually how I know about everything that happened with Sokovia. I try to keep up with all that stuff."

For a second, Wanda just stared.

And then, to your relief, she laughed too. "This whole time," she murmured, shaking her head in disbelief. "We’ve been dancing around this, and you-"

"… are an Avenger," you finished for her, still smiling.

Wanda sighed, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "Well, in that case… does that mean you’ll come as my plus-one to the housewarming party next week, it´s this silly, but maybe you would like to?"

You pretended to think about it, then grinned. "Yeah. I will."

The conversation flowed naturally, like it always did with Wanda. After the initial shock of her being an Avenger had settled, you found yourself telling her about your time in S.H.I.E.L.D. - how it started, when you left, and everything in between.

Wanda listened intently, her eyes soft and thoughtful. "You must’ve been good," she murmured, "if Fury was upset about you leaving."

You scoffed. "I was one of the best. Not to brag, but I have the scores to prove it."

She smiled at that, but there was something deeper behind it, "and… do you miss it?"

You thought about it for a second, then shook your head. "Not really. I liked the work, but not the way it messed with my life. Leaving was the right choice."

Wanda nodded, even though she doesn´t know the whole truth behind your words.

Then, after a quiet pause, she finally opened up about her own reasons for joining the Avengers. "I didn’t really have a choice," she admitted. "After Sokovia… after losing my parents, then Pietro and I being used the way we were… I didn’t have anywhere else to go. And Steve, he made me feel like I could be something more. Like I wasn’t just a weapon."

You softened at her words, hearing about the good heart of The Steve Rogers once again. "You’re not."

She met your gaze, something unspoken passing between you before she cleared her throat. "My powers," she started, glancing down at her hands, "they were an accident. Something done to me, not something I was born with. And I’m still learning to control them."

You tilted your head, interested in Wanda´s powers. "What exactly can you do?"

She smirked slightly. "You really want to know?"

You nodded.

"Well…" Wanda lifted a hand, the tips of her fingers glowing a deep, soft red. "I can move things without touching them."

As if to prove her point, the grass nearby shifted slightly, and before you could react, a few wildflowers lifted from the ground, floating up in the air. Your eyes widened as they twirled and swayed as if carried by a gentle breeze, slowly weaving together into a perfectly arranged bouquet.

Your mouth parted slightly.

Then, Wanda held it out to you. "For you."

You took it carefully, eyes still locked onto her, blush slightly creeping on your face.

"That’s… wow," you shook your head in disbelief, then looked back up at her as you hear her voice in your head.

"Plus this," she smiled at you.

"Mind thing, huh?" you said out loud with a small smirk.

Wanda smiled, a little amused by your reaction. “Uh-huh.”

You exhaled dramatically. "Oh, that’s just great. Now I have to worry about you knowing all my embarrassing thoughts?"

She laughed, a soft and happy sound. "I don’t listen on purpose. But sometimes I can… feel things."

Your cheeks warmed at the thought. "Like what?"

Wanda tilted her head, watching you closely, "like right now… I can feel how much you like me."

You immediately looked away, face heating up even more. "Oh my God."

Wanda giggled. "It’s cute."

You groaned into your hands. "I hate this."

"No, you don’t." She reached forward, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

And when you looked up at her, you knew what was about to happen before it even did. She was close, closer than before, her green eyes locked onto yours, her fingers still curled around your wrists. Your heart hammered in your chest, but you didn’t move away. You didn’t want to.

And when she leaned in, you met her halfway. The kiss was soft, warm, and everything you didn’t realize you’d been waiting for. The only thing you had in your head was pure gay panic, tiny little voice that was making so much noise in your head.

When she pulled away, she was smiling, hearing everything your mind is yelling. "See? I knew you liked me."

You sighed, shaking your head fondly, "shut up and kiss me again."

And she did.

...

The transition from casual dates to something more had been seamless, like the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t a question of if but when, and at some point, it just was. Maybe it was the way Wanda always reached for your hand, or the way you leaned into her touch instinctively. Maybe it was the way she started leaving a spare sweatshirt at your place, or the way she curled into your arms on the couch without hesitation.

Whatever it was, it led to this moment.

One evening, after a long day, you were both curled up on your couch, your legs tangled together as you scrolled through a movie selection. Wanda was playing with your fingers absentmindedly, her head resting against your shoulder.

Then, she spoke. "So… are we, like, together?"

You blinked, turning to look at her.

She was smirking, though there was a softness in her eyes. "Because I kinda assumed we were, but you haven’t actually asked me to be your girlfriend yet."

You huffed a laugh, nudging her playfully, "oh, I haven’t, huh?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

You pretended to think, "well… Wanda Maximoff, will you be my girlfriend?"

She grinned, shifting to straddle your lap. "Hmm… I don’t know. I might need a little convincing."

"Oh, is that so?" You laughed, wrapping your arms around her waist.

She hummed in response, her face inching closer to yours, "mmhm.” And then she kissed you. That was all the convincing she needed.

…

You were focused on stirring the pasta sauce, listening as Wanda absentmindedly chatted from her spot at the kitchen counter, flipping through a book. "Oh, I was talking to Natasha the other day," she said casually. "She was overseeing some training sessions."

Your stirring slowed.

You knew, of course, that Natasha was an Avenger now - one of the Avengers. And you also knew that Wanda was part of the team, which meant…

Your stomach flipped.

"Wait," you said, turning to her. "She’s- she’s going to be at the party, isn’t she?"

Wanda looked up, confused at the shift in your tone. "Yeah, of course. Why?"

You hesitated, exhaling sharply. Well. Now was as good a time as any.

Setting the spoon down, you leaned against the counter. "Okay, so… I should probably tell you something."

Wanda closed the book, giving you her full attention. "Alright." She tried her best not to read your mind, not because she would like to get into your privacy, but because she still has some issues with keeping her powers controlled, especially when her nerves were on the surface.

You met her gaze, feeling surprisingly nervous. "Before I left S.H.I.E.L.D… I was in a relationship with Natasha."

Her eyes widened slightly, "oh."

You watched her carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, but she just seemed… curious. "It wasn’t a nasty breakup or anything," you continued. "It just- we weren´t meant to be. And then I left. Haven’t seen her since."

Wanda nodded slowly, absorbing the information, "not a nasty breakup..." she nodded, "and you’re telling me this because…?"

"Because I don’t want there to be any weird surprises at the party," you admitted. "And because I want to be upfront with you. I’m over her, Wanda. Completely. And I’m happy. With you."

That got you a smile from her. Wanda leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the counter. "You are?"

"I really am," you stepped closer, your hands settling on her waist. She studied your face for a moment before nodding, "okay."

You blinked, "okay?"

She smiled, "yeah. You told me. You didn’t have to, but you did. I appreciate that."

Your shoulders relaxed. "You’re… not like weirded out?"

She shook her head, "not at all. Natasha’s great, but if you say you’re over her, I believe you."

A smirk tugged at your lips, "you’re very reasonable, you know that?"

"Well, one of us has to be," she chuckled.

You laughed, nudging her playfully before leaning in to kiss her - slow and sweet. When you pulled back, your foreheads rested together.

"Healthy communication," you teased. "Look at us."

She hummed in amusement. "Aren’t we just the best couple ever?"

You grinned, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "Yeah, I think we might be."

As you and Wanda settled at the table, plates full of pasta steaming in front of you, the conversation naturally flowed into talk about the team. "So, Pietro has been non-stop asking about you," Wanda said, twirling some spaghetti around her fork. "I think he’s more excited to meet you than he was about getting his new suit."

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink, "oh yeah?"

She nodded, "he keeps saying things like, ‘Wanda, is she cool? Does she have cool stories? Does she like fast people?’"

You laughed at the imitation, "wonderful." You chuckled and then add. "It's a pity I didn't get to meet Pietro last week. I was kinda looking forward to it."

Wanda smirked, resting her chin on her hand. "Oh, trust me, no need to be sad about it. You're gonna get more than enough of him at the party. He’s… a lot in social settings."

You chuckled. "That sounds like a warning."

"It is a warning," she teased. "But you’ll like him, I promise. And he’ll like you. Maybe too much."

You raised an eyebrow at her. "Too much?"

Wanda sighed dramatically. "I just know he's going to claim you as his new best friend the second you two hit it off. And then I’ll never hear the end of it."

You laughed, "well, I guess I'll have to prepare myself."

She smiled and took a bite of her food. After a moment, she added, "oh, and I’m also really excited for you to meet Steve."

You tilted your head. "Steve Rogers?"

She nodded, eyes lighting up a little, "yeah, he's great. A really good person, but not just in the ‘super soldier hero’ way. He’s thoughtful, kind, and actually listens when you talk. I think you’d really like him."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Wanda… are you trying to set me up with him?"

Her eyes widened slightly before she scoffed, reaching over to playfully shove your arm

You laughed, shaking your head. "Hate to break it to you, but I´m already dating someone."

She smirked, leaning in a little. "Oh, you are?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was nothing but fondness in your voice as you said, "mhmm."

…

Time flies like crazy and the day of the not so little Avenger party is here. The moment you stepped into the massive tower, because, of course, Tony Stark had to have the biggest damn building in New York, you felt a strange wave of nostalgia hit you. The sleek hallways, the subtle hum of high-tech security, the faintly familiar scent of polished floors and expensive equipment… It wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D., not exactly, but it was close enough to stir something in your chest. You barely had time to process it before-

Whoosh!

A gust of wind rushed past you, and suddenly, there was an arm slung around your shoulders. "Well, well, well- so you must be THE (Y/N)," a voice said, dripping with amusement.

You blinked, barely registering the blur of silver hair before Pietro Maximoff grinned down at you like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment.

Before you could react, he pulled you into a tight hug, patting your back with way too much enthusiasm. "I’ve heard so much about you! You know, I was starting to think you were just a figment of Wanda’s imagination. But no- you’re real, and I gotta say, you’ve already got bonus points for dealing with her this long."

You snorted, glancing at Wanda, who was watching the interaction with a knowing smirk. "You did warn me," you muttered.

"Told you," she teased, crossing her arms.

Pietro pulled back, grinning as he sized you up. "Alright, first impressions… solid. You seem cool, and I have excellent judgment, so congratulations."

"Oh, thank you for your approval," you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He placed a hand over his heart, mock-offended. "Wow. I come in here, welcome you with open arms, and this is how you treat me? No respect."

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Okay, okay. You’re alright too, Maximoff."

He gasped dramatically. "Just alright? Wanda, your girlfriend wounds me."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "I told you she’d handle you just fine."

You shook your head with a grin. "Oh, I think we’re gonna get along just fine, too."

Pietro beamed. "Good. Because you’re stuck with me now. Want anything to drink? Wanda?"

You nodded, and in the blink of an eye - whoosh! - Pietro is back, handing you a fruity drink with a cocky little smirk.

"For you," he announced, before handing Wanda an almost too full glass of wine.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"What? You like wine," he shruged, then lifts his own drink, a high-percentage beer that looked strong enough to knock out a normal person.

You took a sip of your drink, then glanced at Pietro. "Wait… How did you even know what I’d like?"

Pietro grinned, leaning on the counter. "Wanda talks a lot about you."

Wanda scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Not that much."

Pietro turned to you, "that much."

You chuckled, watching as Wanda simply sips her wine, pretending not to hear him.

Without missing a beat, she clarified, "Before you ask, no, I didn’t read your mind. I just know you."

"Uh-huh," you hummed, amused.

"And before you wonder why I’m not even tipsy," Pietro added, motioning to his drink, "Wanda and I have a very high alcohol tolerance. I have a ridiculously high tolerance, which means I can’t get drunk. Believe me, I’ve tried."

You nodded with a laugh. "That does sound like something you’d test."

He grinned, raising his glass. "So, on best friends’ cheers?"

You clinked your glass against his. "Best friends’ cheers."

Wanda shaked her head but smiles as she joined in, her glass meeting both of yours. "You two are ridiculous."

"You love us," Pietro teased.

Wanda sighed, but there’s nothing but fondness in her eyes. "Unfortunately, I do."

After some time, as you and Pietro continued talking and joking around, Wanda gently tugged at your hand. "Come on," she murmured with a soft smile. "There’s someone I want you to meet."

Pietro smirked knowingly. "Oh, the introduction. Have fun!"

Wanda rolled her eyes at him before leading you through the lively party, weaving past conversations and laughter until you reached a quieter corner. And then, standing there, just as effortlessly composed as you’d expect - was Steve Rogers himself.

"Steve," Wanda greeted warmly.

Steve turned, his expression immediately softening at the sight of her.

"Hey, Wanda." Then, his gaze shifted to you, and he extended his hand. "You must be (Y/N)."

You shook his hand firmly, surprised by how gentle yet strong his grip was. "That’s me."

He smiled, and it was so genuine, so kind, that you fully understand what Wanda meant when she said he was more than just a good guy. He was The Good Guy.

"I’m really glad to finally meet you," Steve said sincerely. "Wanda talks about you a lot."

You chuckled, throwing a glance at your girlfriend. "So I’ve heard." Wanda simply shrug, an innocent smile on her lips.

Steve nodded approvingly. "It’s good to see her with someone who makes this place feel a little more like home."

Something about the way he said it tugs at your heart. He was not just happy for Wanda, he understood what it’s like to find comfort in people rather than places.

"It’s a work in progress," you sid, smiling. "But I’d like to think I’m doing an okay job."

"You are," Wanda assured you, squeezing your hand gently.

Steve watched the small gesture with warmth in his eyes before he tilts his head. "You know, I heard you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D."

You nodded. "Yeah. Spent some time in training and fieldwork before… well, before everything changed."

He huffed a knowing breath. "Tell me about it."

From there, the conversation easily shifted into talking about training, about the different approaches to working with new recruits. It turned out Steve already knew a bit about you, at least in a professional sense.

"I remember hearing about your training techniques," he admited. "You had a reputation for being tough but fair."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? And what do you prefer when it comes to training?"

Steve smiled. "I like to focus on discipline, but I think adaptability is key. The best fighters aren’t just strong, they know how to adjust in the moment."

You nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It’s not just about how fast you hit, it’s about how well you think on your feet."

Steve grinned. "I think I’d like sparring with you sometime."

Wanda, who have been quietly watching the entire exchange, chuckled. "Oh no. You’re going to start geeking out over training, aren’t you?"

You and Steve exchanged a knowing look before you smirked. "No promises." She sighed dramatically but squeezed your hand.

Steve tilted his head slightly. "I also heard that you were the second best on S.H.I.E.L.D.´s dead test."

You blinked in surprise. "Oh, uh… yeah."

Wanda's eyes widen. "Wait, what? You never told me that!"

You shrug, a little sheepish, "eh, nothing special."

Steve chuckled. "Being humble is also a good quality in an agent."

"I wasn’t the first, though," you added with a small smirk.

Steve exhaled, shaking his head in amusement. "Hard to beat the one and only Widow."

You nodded, "yeah, well… no one really compares to Natasha when it comes to that stuff."

Wanda tilted her head at you, studying your expression as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. You squeezed back instinctively, appreciating the silent support.

"So, she’s still into being the best at everything, huh?" you mused, an edge of familiarity in your tone.

Steve nodded. "Always. No break, just work, basically."

You let out a small chuckle, unsurprised. It was just so Natasha. But before your mind could wander too much, Wanda gently tugged at your hand again, bringing you back to the present.

"Well, you are incredibly impressive too," she murmured, nudging you playfully.

Steve grinned at the exchange but didn´t press further. He didn´t know about your history with Natasha and right now, you kind of prefer it that way.

Wanda, with her impossibly fast metabolism, had spent the last ten minutes determinedly drowning her drinks in an attempt to feel something. It was honestly kind of hilarious. She was pouting slightly, swirling the empty glass in her hand like it had personally betrayed her.

You chuckled, shaking your head, "I’ll get you another one."

She grinned, "make it strong, please."

With a teasing eye roll, you made your way to the bar. It was quieter here, dimly lit, the hum of conversations a little more subdued. You leaned against the counter, waiting for the bartender, when a familiar presence caught your attention from a few seats down.

Natasha.

She wasn’t looking at you at first, but when she finally did, it was like time slowed for a second. Her green eyes flickered with something unreadable… shock, recognition, something deeper beneath the surface.

Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, you gave her a polite smile, a quick nod, and looked down, suddenly aware of how your fingers fidgeted against the counter. You weren’t sure if it was nerves or just… old habits creeping in.

But Natasha? She was blindsided.

You were here. In this tower. At this party. And you looked good. The kind of good that made her itch to close the distance, to ask why you were here, how you’d been, what you’d been up to. She wanted to tell you, needed to tell you, that she wasn’t the same person anymore. That she’d changed. That the reckless, emotionally closed-off woman you had once been with was… healing. Better. That she was stable, secure, someone who could finally deserve you.

And God, she wondered, if she was different now, if she was better now…

Would there still be a chance for the two of you?

She was halfway through standing up, ready to cross that distance, when-

A pair of warm hands found your waist.

Wanda.

She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before grinning up at you, "what’s taking so long, detka?"

Then she saw Natasha.

And Natasha - cool, composed, always-in-control Natasha - just froze.

Her mask slipped in an instant. Gone was the untouchable Black Widow. Standing there was just… a heartbroken woman. A woman who had just realized, far too late, that she had lost you. Again.

Not wanting to drag this moment out into something heavier than it needed to be, you gave Natasha a small wave. It was meant to be casual, easy, like you were just two people at the same party, nothing more. Natasha hesitated for half a second before walking toward you, her steps measured. Her expression was carefully blank, but her eyes still held that flicker of something unreadable.

Before she could say anything, Wanda leaned in close to you and murmured, "do you want me to go? Give you two a moment?"

You shook your head without hesitation. "No, you can stay."

Natasha caught that.

She caught the way your voice was steady, how your hand lightly rested against Wanda’s waist like it was second nature. How there wasn’t even a sliver of uncertainty in your decision.

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment. "Hey, Natasha," you said, keeping your tone polite. "Before you ask, I´m here only as a plus one, I´m not coming back as an agent." There was no malice, no lingering tension - just a quiet honesty. Nat nodded slowly, her lips parting like she wanted to say something else, but before she could, you offered her a small smile. "You look good. I hope you’ve been doing well."

Something in her expression shifted, her fingers twitching at her side, but she only nodded again. "You too."

And just like that, you grabbed the drinks from the bar, handing Wanda hers before turning away with her, letting the moment dissolve behind you. As you and Wanda walked away from the bar, drinks in hand, she let out a small, amused breath. "Well… that went well," she murmured, nudging you lightly with her hip.

You hummed in response, taking a sip of your drink as you led her toward a quieter corner of the room where a few plush seats were set up, "yeah." You finally said, "could’ve been worse."

Wanda sat down beside you, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass. "She was staring at you the whole time."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I noticed."

"Should I be jealous?" she teased, tilting her head.

You turned to her with a smirk. "You planning on breaking up with me anytime soon?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course not."

"Then no," you said simply, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. Wanda smiled at that, her shoulders relaxing a bit, "besides I think, that she was just shocked I´m here."

After a brief silence, she leaned into you, resting her head against your shoulder. "So," she started, dragging out the word. "Since we’re here, and since I have an actual S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to ask, was Fury really pain in the ass to work with?"

You huffed a quiet laugh. "Oh, you know. He´s a lot of rules, a lot of paperwork So… kinda."

Wanda laughed. "And what was the hardest part to do?"

"Oh defiently running," you nodded, being totally serious.

"Running?"

"Yeah, we weren’t all enhanced, you know," you joked, nudging her playfully. "Some of us had to train like normal people. Survival of the fittest and all that."

Wanda giggled. "And yet, you almost got the best score?"

"Almost," you corrected. "Big difference."

"Mm, I think you’re just being humble again," she teased, nudging your knee with hers.

You sighed dramatically. "It’s really hard to compete with a super-spy, Wanda."

"True, true," she mused. "We have that said super-spy over there, still staring at us."

You resisted the urge to look over your shoulder, instead bringing your drink to your lips. "Let her stare. She’ll get bored eventually."

Wanda hummed, then smirked. "You know, if you were still at S.H.I.E.L.D. and I was still new to the Avengers, I think they would’ve sent you to check me out."

"Check you out?" You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

She groaned, shoving your arm lightly. "You know what I mean! Like, making sure I wasn’t a threat."

You snickered. "I mean, technically, you were a threat back then."

"Exactly," she said proudly. "So? Would you have taken the mission?"

You pretended to think about it. "Hmm. On one hand, I’d be risking my life. On the other hand…" You glanced at her, letting your eyes flicker over her face. "I’d get to meet you."

Wanda’s cheeks darkened, and she shoved you again, but this time, her fingers lingered on your wrist. "Stop being sappy," she muttered.

"Never," you shot back, squeezing her hand. She shook her head, a fond smile on her lips. And as Natasha sat across the room, still watching, still quiet, you didn’t spare her another glance. Because in this moment, it was just you and Wanda.

As you and Wanda continued your conversation, reminiscing about S.H.I.E.L.D. days and sharing quiet laughs, a familiar voice cut through the air behind you.

"Well, well. That is a surprise."

Your head snapped up instantly, and a wide grin spread across your face. "Fury!"

Standing a few feet away, clad in his signature black coat and with the ever-present unimpressed look on his face, was Nick Fury himself. He crossed his arms, giving you a once-over before shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. Why does he always wears the coat? Even at a party?

"Relationships always mess with work," he mused, smirking just a little.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against the couch, "I’m here with Wanda, Fury. I’m not coming back."

"That so?" He raised a brow. "Didn’t think you’d ever get tired of the action."

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. "It’s not for me anymore. I like my work, my mostly cleared schedules."

Fury let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, training people as a trainer. Real relax."

“You been checking up on my life?” Your eyes narrowed slightly.

Fury gave you that signature, unreadable look before answering, "my eye is everywhere."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small laugh, "of course it is."

Fury took a step closer, lowering his voice just enough to sound a little more serious, "if you ever decide to come back…"

You raised a brow, "you just said relationships mess with work, and now you want me to come back?"

Fury smirked again, tilting his head slightly, "if you change your mind, my number’s still the same."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd like he always did, like a damn shadow.

As soon as he was out of sight, Wanda leaned in close, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a smirk. "Well…"

You turned your head slowly to give her a look, already knowing where she was going with this. "Don’t you dare start too, Wan."

She giggled, taking a sip of her wine, "I didn’t say anything!"

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, shaking your head, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Wanda swirled the remnants of her drink in her glass. You, on the other hand, were starting to feel the warmth of the alcohol settle in. A light buzz in your head, a lazy grin pulling at your lips. Not drunk, but definitely tipsy.

"You okay?" Wanda asked, amused as she watched you lean into the back of the couch a little more than before.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting your glass down on the small table beside you. "Just… comfy."

Wanda chuckled, shaking her head. "Lightweight."

You gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. "I’ll have you know, I used to drink with top agents. You don’t survive that without building some tolerance."

She gave you a skeptical look. "And yet, here you are. Tipsy."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "You just have freaky metabolism."

"Fair point," she admitted, taking another sip of her wine. "But still funny to watch."

You rolled your eyes but let the smile linger. Wanda glanced down at her glass, then back up at you, her expression softening slightly. "You know… Natasha was really good to me and Pietro when we got here."

That caught your attention, you blinked, turning to face her more fully. "Yeah?"

Wanda nodded, her gaze distant for a moment. "We didn’t trust anyone at first. And I mean anyone." She sighed. "We were… lost. Everything we had believed in, everything we fought for… it was all gone. And suddenly, we were supposed to trust these people we used to call enemies?" She let out a quiet laugh. "It was terrifying."

You stayed quiet, letting her continue.

"But Natasha… she was patient. She didn’t push, didn’t try to force us to talk. She just… made sure we were okay. Checked in. Gave us space, but always reminded us she was there." Wanda smiled faintly. "She was one of the first people who made me feel like I belonged here."

You tilted your head slightly, watching her as her words sank in. You had known Natasha in a very different light. You knew her sharp edges, her relentless drive, her constant need to be the best. But the way Wanda spoke about her… it was softer. Warmer.

Had she really changed that much?

Maybe more than a bit.

Wanda nudged you lightly, "you’re thinking really hard about something."

You blinked, shaking off the thoughts. "Just… surprised, I guess."

She studied you for a moment, then tilted her head with a knowing look. "You thought she’d always stay the same, didn’t you?"

You huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. "Natasha never really needed to change. She was always so sure of herself, always knew exactly what she was doing. Yet… not really. It’s weird to think of her as…" You trailed off, searching for the right words.

"As someone who cares?" Wanda finished for you, a teasing glint in her eye.

You snorted. "She always cared. She was just really bad at showing it."

Wanda hummed in agreement. "Well, maybe she figured it out."

You let that thought settle in, absentmindedly tapping your fingers against your thigh, "I´m glad she was and still is there for you, I don´t want to make it weird between you two."

"(Y/N), we all are adults." Wanda poked your side.

You hummed, "true, but we all are surrounded by not so common work."

It´s not so shocking, that she changed and truly worked on herself. Natasha Romanoff wasn’t the same woman you once knew. It is totally normal, but Wanda´s words still suprised you.

As Wanda made her way through the crowd, saying goodnight to everyone, you took the opportunity to slip away toward the bar, deciding that a glass of water might help ease the tipsiness creeping up on you. The party was still lively, but the energy had settled, with some guests already leaving and others dissapearing into quiet conversations.

You leaned against the counter, running a hand through your hair as you waited for your drink. The cold water felt refreshing against your palm, and you took a slow sip, letting yourself breathe for a moment.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you noticed someone approaching. You didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was.

Natasha stood just a few steps away, hands casually tucked into the pockets of her black pants, but there was something careful about the way she carried herself, like she wasn’t sure if she should be standing there at all. "You’re drinking water at a party?"

"Trying to avoid a headache tomorrow," you replied, swirling the ice in your glass before finally glancing at Natasha.

She had one elbow resting on the bar, body angled toward you, her expression unreadable but undeniably curious. "That’s surprisingly responsible of you."

You huffed a small laugh, "I can be responsible."

Natasha smirked slightly, eyes flicking over you like she was trying to piece something together. "You always did like sneaking away from crowds."

You shrugged. "Old habits."

A silence settled between you for a few moments, not entirely awkward, but definitely not the effortless kind you used to have. It was Natasha who broke it first.

"I heard you are a personal trainer now," she said, tilting her head slightly.

You gave her a look, "first Fury and now you," you chuckled, "How do you know?"

She smiled just a little, "I have my ways."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t push it. "Yeah, I train. Mostly physical conditioning, self defence, a little tactics. Keeps me busy."

"And keeps you out of the field."

You exhaled slowly, nodding, "yeah. That part of my life is over."

Natasha studied you for a moment before nodding, almost to herself. "You seem… different."

That made you pause, "different how?"

She tilted her head, considering. "More at peace."

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Instead, you just smiled slightly. "Guess I’ve figured some things out."

Natasha held your gaze for a beat longer, and you could tell she wanted to say something else. But instead, she finally asked, "You and Wanda…?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

"For how long?"

"Some time now."

Natasha pressed her lips together, nodding slowly. "I see." She glanced away for a second before taking a breath. "I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry."

That made you pause.

"For what I did all those years ago," she continued, shifting slightly on her feet. "For how I hurt you. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I need you to know that I’m different now. I’ve worked on myself. I’m better." You studied her for a moment, then offered her a small, sincere smile.

"Thank you for the apology, Nat. It´s okay." You looked away for a second, sipping on your water. "By the way… I’m happy for you, Nat. Really. You deserve to feel stable and have a family like the Avengers. You´re really glowing here."

Her eyes softened, as if your words lifted something heavy off her shoulders. "Thanks," she said quietly.

You nodded, taking another sip of water. There was nothing left to be said, at least not tonight. But for the first time in a long time, things didn’t feel so heavy between you two, like the last time you saw her.

As soon as Wanda said all her goodbyes and then appeared beside you, her hand instinctively found yours, her fingers warm and familiar as they laced with yours. Natasha’s eyes flickered between the two of you before offering a small nod.

"We are heading for tonight, so see you tomorrow, Nat." Wanda said softly, her tone polite but firm.

You nodded as well. "Goodnight."

Natasha held your gaze for a second longer, something unreadable flashing in her expression before she gave a small smile. "Goodnight."

And with that, you and Wanda turned to leave, stepping out of the party and into the quiet night.

The walk back to your place was peaceful, the air crisp, the distant hum of the city filling the silence between you. By the time you stepped inside, exhaustion was starting to settle in, but Wanda’s teasing tone pulled you right back.

"I see you made sure to drink some water," she mused, nudging your side as she slipped off her coat.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smirk. "Didn’t feel like waking up miserable."

"Smart," Wanda hummed, already pulling you towards the bed.

It didn’t take long before the two of you were tangled up together, bodies fitting perfectly under the covers. Wanda’s fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm, her breath warm against your neck.

"Hoped you enjoyed tonight," she murmured sleepily.

You let out a soft sigh, relaxing into her hold. "Yeah… I had fun. It was nice to come back."

Wanda smiled against your skin, her grip around you tightening just a little. She didn’t say anything else, but you knew what she was thinking.

You’d be calling Fury soon.

Because no matter how much you insisted that part of your life was over, you loved training people too much to stay away forever. It was still part of you, something that will stay with you till the day you´ll die.

The days following Tony’s party felt like a blur of normalcy, something rare and precious when you were dating an Avenger. Wanda’s schedule was unpredictable at best, but she always made sure to carve out time for the two of you, such as lazy mornings tangled in blankets, quiet dinners, and stolen moments between her missions.

And when you weren’t spending time with her, you were at the gym, running your own classes, guiding people through drills, and finding satisfaction in watching them improve.

It was a good balance.

Most of the time.

It became a habit - Wanda coming home and venting about work, about the team, about whatever new chaos had unfolded that day.

And lately, her frustrations had taken a familiar pattern.

"I swear, (Y/N), I watched a group of recruits today completely botch a simple counter maneuver. Like, a basic one. It was painful." Wanda groaned, draping herself dramatically over the couch while you stood in the kitchen, making some tea.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you poured the hot water into two mugs. "What was the mistake?"

"They left their center completely open. No weight shift, no counterbalance, just begging to be thrown to the ground."

You nearly choked on a laugh, "oh my god, that’s such a stupid mistake."

"Right?" Wanda sighed. "And Steve’s been trying to work on it, but it’s not really his style. They need someone who actually knows how to drill this stuff into their heads, not just super soldier who fought in war."

You didn’t catch it at first, the way she said it, casual but deliberate, planting the idea like a seed in your mind.

It wasn’t just a complaint. It was a suggestion.

But Wanda moved on quickly, sipping her tea as she changed the subject, and you didn’t think much of it.

Until it happened again. And again.

"Nat says the newer agents struggle with disarming techniques," Wanda mentioned over breakfast one morning, "it slows down their reaction time in the field."

You scoffed as you buttered your toast. "That’s basic survival. Why aren’t they drilling it more?"

"Exactly," Wanda said with a knowing look, but she didn’t push. She never did.

She just kept mentioning things. Little things. How S.H.I.E.L.D.´s training program was lacking. How the recruits weren’t getting the guidance they needed. How maybe, just maybe, someone with your experience could help. You weren’t sure when you started seriously considering it.

It was just… there. A thought in the back of your mind, lingering longer each time Wanda brought it up.

taglist: @starrycherie, @esposadejoyhuerta, @redroomgraduate

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Piece of you- L.MN

SURPRISE!! Today is a triple special day for me, so let's get started

First of all, it's my babygirl @sweetlifeofjoy 's bday!! Happy birthday, Nari! I hope you have a wonderful day, surrounded by those you love and I wish a lot of happiness 😊 And thanks for making my day a lot funnier whenever we talk... or flirt haha

Now, the second thing I wanna celebrate, it's Minho's debut on this blog yay! I tried to make something very Lee Know coded here, I guess it's giving off his vibes. I hope you all like it

And last but not least, I want to celebrate the 700 of us. I didn't even have time to thank you for 600 so consider that a combo. I am really really grateful for each one of you. Really. You make my little heart very happy 💜🤭

Word count: 1.0k

No warnings

Alexa, play Ink by Coldplay

Minho had been gone less than a day when you found the first note.

It was tucked beneath your toothbrush, folded into a tiny triangle with a doodle on the front— a cat  version of him, with exaggerated pouty lips and two big bright eyes that he asked Hyunjin to sketch. Underneath, in his unmistakable handwriting, it said:

“Miss me yet?”

You laughed, even if your chest ached a little. Opening it, you could listen to his voice in the ink.

“Brush your teeth, sleepyhead. I’m not there to kiss you good morning, but I still expect fresh breath when I call”.

You stood there for a long moment, grinning down at the paper, toothbrush forgotten.

The next one showed up that afternoon, in the hoodie you stole from his wardrobe. You slipped your hand into the front pocket and felt it— another folded piece of paper. This one had small hearts all over it and a simple message:

“Wear this one often. It smells like me. I gave it a final hug before I left. You're welcome”

You giggled, hugging the hoodie tighter.

Minho had always been the quiet type when it came to words, more teasing than tender, but it felt like he had left tiny pieces of himself all over the apartment just to keep you company.

Every day you found a new one. One was taped to the coffee jar:

“Drink water too. No, coffee doesn’t count. Neither does bubble tea. I'm watching you”

Another slid out from between your laptop screen and keyboard:

“Take breaks. Don’t sit there for six hours straight or I will find out”

And then there was the one beneath his favorite mug:

“Play our playlist. Skip the sad ones unless you’re missing me a lot. If you do listen to them, please don’t cry while holding my mug. It’s bad for the aesthetic”.

They were scattered everywhere— beneath your pillow, taped to the ice cream lid in the freezer, inside the pages of your current book. Each one perfectly timed, each one so Minho. 

One, though, made you stop in your tracks and cackle like a hyena. It was taped to the front of the air fryer, written in red ink:

“I SWEAR TO GOD if you break my air fryer while I’m gone, I will haunt you. Not gently. I’m talking about flickering lights and mysterious cat hair in your cereal”

And then, like the cherry on top, a tiny postscript:

“(Miss you though. Please eat something that isn’t chips)”

You shook your head, grinning like an idiot. Only Lee Minho could threaten you with ghostly vengeance and still make your heart flutter.

Another note had been left on the windowsill where the cats loved to take a nap. This one was softer, written with a little paw print doodle in the back:

“Tell Soonie he’s in charge. Doongie gets extra head kisses. And Dori… can’t be trusted, so watch him”

“If they look at you dramatically and cry like they’re starving, remember: they are liars. Do not fall for it. But also… maybe give them a snack anyway”

“If they sit on your lap, don’t you dare move. I don’t care if your leg goes numb. That’s the price of love”

“PS: If you fall asleep with them like that… just know I’m gonna be insanely jealous. But also please take a picture so I can melt over it for five minutes and then pretend I’m not crying in the tour van”

You were crying laughing by the end of that one.

Each note was like a breadcrumb trail leading you right back to him, even while he was miles away.

But the note that made you sit down and press a hand to your chest, was under his pillow.

You only found it on the third day. You weren’t even looking, you were just making the bed out of habit, and there it was— thicker than the rest.

You sat on the bed and unfolded it slowly, heart stuttering.

“This one’s for the nights that feel heavy”

“You don’t have to be okay just because I’m not there to see it. I know you’re strong, but I also know you. So cry if you need to. Eat ice cream for dinner. Watch that movie we’ve seen a hundred times”

“Then call me in the morning. I’ll listen to every word. You don’t have to do this alone. You never have to”

By the time Minho called you that night, the notes were lined up across the wall, like a paper mosaic. 

He appeared on your phone screen, hair damp from shower

 “Wow”, he said when he saw the background, “I didn’t think you’d actually keep them”

You rolled your eyes, pulling the hoodie tighter around you. “Shut up, you wrote them! You thought I’d read them and toss them in the trash?”

“I mean, yeah”, he said, “That’s what you do with my texts”

“I react with a heart to them!”

Minho looked at you, inexpressible

“You reacted with a heart to ‘did you eat?’ like it was a love confession”

You bit back a grin, “Wasn’t it?”

He paused, pretending to think, then nodded. “Well, you are right. I’m very romantic”

You laugh softly before confessing, “Damn, I miss you”

“Yeah”, he said, rubbing the towel over his hair, “If I were you, I’d miss me too”.

You let out a loud, theatrical gasp and flopped dramatically back onto the bed like you’d just been betrayed.

“I can’t believe this! I’m dating a menace. An actual menace”

He blinked at the screen, “You’re so dramatic”

“You’re not even pretending to miss me!”

Minho shook his head in disbelief, “You’re wearing my hoodie, laying on my pillow, surrounded by my notes and you’re gonna sit there and act like I don’t miss you?”

You were still pouting

He rolled his eyes

“I miss you so much it's annoying” he said, “Happy now?”

“No! You said it was annoying!”

“Because I’m annoyed at myself, he grumbled, “For being this whipped”

You grinned.

“Say it again”

“No”

“Say it!”

Minho sighed like he felt physical pain

“I miss you”, he muttered, “More than the cats. But don't tell them that”

You melted instantly.

“See?” You are romantic indeed”

He huffed, but his smile lasted— warm, bright and entirely yours.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep , @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

[charlesslut16]

-confession to you-

summary : you and lando confess your feeling for eachother

PAIRINGS : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I hope that you have a great next year!

masterlist ; DECEMBER MASTERLIST 24’ 

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

The golden glow of the setting sun painted the Mediterranean sky, casting a soft light over Monaco’s harbor. The luxurious yachts bobbed gently in the water, their masts swaying with the rhythm of the waves.

The whole city seemed to be buzzing with energy, the streets alive with anticipation for the upcoming New Year’s Eve celebrations. It was the perfect setting, but as you stood in the middle of the bustling streets, something felt off.

You’d arrived in Monaco alone, hoping for a change of scenery and to enjoy a peaceful start to the new year. What you didn’t expect, however, was to run into him—Lando Norris.

Lando. The one person you never really got over.

You hadn’t seen each other in years. In fact, the last time you were close, you’d been in university, casually hanging out and occasionally sharing flirty glances and secret smiles. But neither of you ever had the guts to act on those feelings back then. The timing had never been right.

Now, here you were, standing in the heart of Monaco, watching him stride toward you with that familiar smirk on his face, his dark hair slightly tousled in that effortlessly perfect way.

“Y/n?” Lando said, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he reached you. “Of all the places, you’re here?”

You blinked in surprise. "Lando? I can’t believe it’s you. What are the chances?”

“I think we’re both pretty lucky tonight,” he said with a grin, his brown eyes sparkling with recognition. “Monaco for New Year’s. Seems like fate, right?”

For a moment, everything felt like it had fallen into place. The city, the timing—it was like the universe had decided this was the perfect moment for you two to reconnect.

“I guess so,” you replied, your voice betraying the butterflies that had started to flutter in your stomach. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It’s been... what? Three years?”

Lando nodded. “At least. Longer, maybe.” He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words. “I’m glad we bumped into each other. I’ve thought about you, you know.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “I thought about you too,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

His eyes widened a little, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. A lot has changed, but I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if we’d acted on all that... tension between us back then.”

Lando stepped a little closer, his presence suddenly more intense. "Tension," he murmured. "Is that what we called it?"

You could feel the air between you both shift, thickening with something more than just casual conversation. The chemistry was still there, undeniable. It had never really gone away.

"Maybe it was more than that," you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

Lando was silent for a beat, and then he laughed, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "I can’t believe we were both so blind back then."

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on your lips. "You’re telling me you didn’t notice how I used to look at you?”

“Of course, I noticed,” Lando said, his voice low, the teasing lilt gone. “But I thought you were just being friendly. I didn’t realize you felt the same way.”

“I thought the same about you,” you confessed. “I didn’t want to make things awkward, so I just... let it go.”

Lando let out a soft sigh, taking a step toward you. “Well, it seems like we both missed our chance, huh?”

“Maybe it’s not too late,” you said quietly, your heart racing as the words left your lips.

He smiled, that same mischievous grin you remembered so well. “You’re right,” he said, his voice filled with a gentle but firm resolve. “It’s definitely not too late.”

The evening went on, with the two of you wandering around Monaco, catching up on old memories and discovering new things about each other. There was an easy flow to your conversation, the kind that felt natural even after so many years. You had spent years apart, but it felt like no time had passed at all.

As the evening turned into night, the city came alive with lights. The streets were crowded, the air filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses as people celebrated the impending new year. The countdown was just moments away.

Standing on a rooftop bar overlooking the glittering city, the excitement was palpable. You and Lando leaned over the railing, watching the horizon. The distant sounds of people shouting “Happy New Year!” mixed with the ticking seconds leading up to midnight.

Lando turned to you, his hand brushing against yours, a soft touch that made your heart skip. He looked at you, his expression softer now, more vulnerable than you remembered.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ve been thinking about this moment all night, and I can’t help but feel... lucky.”

Your breath caught in your throat. "Lucky?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his gaze never leaving yours. "Lucky that we found each other again, at the right time, when we’re both ready for this.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words spread through you. “I think this is the right time, too.”

The countdown began. “Ten... nine... eight...”

Lando took a step closer, his hand finding yours. The whole world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, in the soft glow of the city and the anticipation of the new year.

“Three… two… one…”

And as the fireworks exploded overhead, lighting up the night sky in a brilliant shower of colors, Lando leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was everything you had both wanted for so long. It was slow at first, tender, as if savoring the moment. But the longer it lasted, the more it deepened, filled with all the things you had never said, all the years of missed chances, and now, finally, the freedom to let it all out.

The fireworks continued to burst above you, but the only thing that mattered was the way Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the world celebrated the start of a new year. You both were finally in sync, and nothing had ever felt more perfect.

As the last of the fireworks faded into the night sky, you broke the kiss, smiling at him. “Happy New Year, Lando.”

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Happy New Year, Y/n. And this time, I’m not letting you go.”

It was the start of something new—a second chance, rekindled under the brightest of fireworks. And this time, neither of you were going to let it slip away.

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Fluff, sweetness, flirting, crushes, reader's meddling bestie. Summary: Waking up beside your soulmate the morning after your wedding, you reflect on the meetings that brought you here. Notes: Welcome to a new story, friends! We're using date stamps as we tell this story, as scenes may appear out of chronological order. Enjoy!

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Normally waking up is hard for Javi. Too used to having his own schedule, late nights and lazy mornings. Things have changed over the past few years, the loss of his family fortune and business. Not that he minded no longer being the face of an arms dealer family, even if he wasn’t the one selling the weapons. That was his now incarcerated cousin, Lucas’s doing.

No, now waking up meant an alarm instead of the fragrant smell coffee being brought by a servant, he had to get up and make it himself if he wants.

This morning, this morning his eyes are open before the sun even thinks about peeking over the horizon. The early morning lighting up gradually as he watches your face, so peaceful in sleep. His soulmate. His wife.

Sunrise isn't normally your wakeup call. The mornings are always an early start for you because you like to get as much out of your day as you possibly can. It's been so many years of it now that you even wake up early on the weekends – but not today.

A rare morning of sleeping in means that the bright sun streaming through the windows penetrates your sleep to warm your dreams and drift you closer to reality. Although really, the thing that wakes you is the shifting of the mattress. The last time you shared a bed with anyone before last night was...a year ago? More?

But when you open your eyes, knowing it's your soulmate next to you is so exhilarating.

“Good morning.” Javi’s smile is bright, radiant like the sun as he reaches out and caresses your cheek. “How did you sleep? I think I only slept for two hours but it was the best two hours of my life.”

"Good morning." Like a magnet, you slide towards him on the mattress to tuck yourself into his side. "It's a whole new day. What did you want to do with it?" Neither of you have to work, so it's just...going to be beautiful all on its own.

“I should treat you today, no?” He asks with a grin. “It is technically our honeymoon?” The ring on your finger is just barely ten hours old, the excitement of that fact still humming through his system and coming off as nervous energy.

"We've got a whole weekend to do whatever we want." Honeymoon. It's your honeymoon. The last twenty-four hours have been a complete whirlwind. This time yesterday you were already at work. "I feel silly asking but...what do you like to do for fun?"

“Watching movies.” Javi admits shamelessly, although he no longer has the movie theatre he once did. “What is your favorite movie?”

"Oh gosh, that's such a hard question." Shamelessly happy that you can do so, you lay a kiss on his shoulder and gaze up at him.

Your soulmate is so fucking handsome. How did you get so lucky?

"Maybe..." You laugh at how ridiculously hard it is to choose. "I think I have more like a top three. And they rotate depending on what kind of mood I'm in. But one of the top three is always The Princess Bride."

“That is a good one.” He grins, happy that you seem to light up and have a hard time choosing. “I always liked Wesley.” He admits shamelessly and winks at you. “As you wish.”

"Hush." Even though you nudge him a little, your warm cheeks have nothing to do with the morning sun. It's all mixed in with the dreamy expression on your face as you talk with him. Your husband. Your soulmate. "What's your favourite movie?"

“You must promise not to laugh.” He tells you seriously, although there is humor twinkling in the depths of his dark eyes as he gazes into your hauntingly beautiful ones. “Paddington 2.” He admits, his tone flat and honest.

“Why would I laugh? That’s such a sweet movie!” Daring to reach up to brush a curl out of his eyes, you end up smiling all over again. “I…actually really love watching kids’ movies. They’re great for comfort and cheering me up when I don’t feel too good.”

“They teach us lessons we could all use.” He agrees, capturing your hand and kissing the back of it. “We can watch them together. Snuggled up.”

“That sounds perfect.” Practically everything he suggests sounds perfect, and it’s not just the gorgeous purr of his accent. “It can be a sweet way of unwinding at night.”

“You would not mind?” He asks, brows raised and a hopefully look on his face. “I wish I had my old movie theatre, but we can turn the second bedroom into a viewing room?”

"You..." Confusion makes your eyebrows draw in. "Used to have your own movie theater?"

He tilts his head. “Of course.” He nods. “I will have to build one again. It will not be as big as the one in Spain, but the house will be much smaller too.” He sighs softly, feeling a little bit like a failure for not being able to give you the things he once had. Before he ever knew you carried his marks. “But maybe one day, no?”

"If it will make you happy, then we will absolutely do that." There are plenty of things that you don't know about each other yet, but you have every confidence that you'll be able to settle into things together well. You're soulmates, after all. You're meant to be together. "I just...I've never known anyone who had their own movie theater before. That sounds so fancy."

“It was a large house.” He admits, frowning slightly. He loved the house, hated the bad memories of some of the things that happened there. Although it was never all bad. “You know, Nic Cage came to my birthday party there?” He asks. “It’s how we met.”

"Is it really?" He had told you that they were friends -- hell, the Cages had come to your wedding last night -- but it was still something that you were wrapping your head around.

“Yes.” He chuckles. “I paid him one million dollars to come to my birthday, and somehow, we became friends.”

Your eyes widen, catching on a breath of disbelief. "So that's how you get a movie star to come to your birthday? Color me impressed."

He hums. “Back then, yes.” He admits, leaning in and kissing your shoulder gently. “Now, they are starting to want to come on their own. Not because I pay them.” He doesn’t have the money to do that anymore.

"You're an amazing writer. I'm sure you're just at the start of something really grand." The two movies he has had made so far have both been fantastic. You went home and watched them back-to-back after the first time he told you he was a screenwriter. "I consider myself very lucky that I'll get to be beside you during all of it."

“Really?” His eyes widen, as if he had never really considered that you would be happy to have him as your soulmate. “You want to be beside me?”

It almost makes you laugh, but the wonder on his face is so genuinely sweet that it sort of comes out as a sound of disbelief. "Of course," you promise him, and take his hand to hold both his and your left hands in his view. The hands bearing your brand new wedding rings. "That's what this means."

“Married.” The word is whispered, almost reverently, as if he is still in disbelief that it was ever possible. For him, it had started to look that way. He had loved Gabriella and had been determined to be a good partner no matter if they had not shared marks, but she had left him. He had floundered slightly, bemoaning love and at the encouragement of Nic to start working on his next screen play, he had stumbled upon the soulmate he had always yearned for.

******

Tuesday, February 14, 2023 Valentine's Day

The slowest pay of the week for the museum seems punctuated with particularly melancholy moments today. There was a private tour this morning with a proposal, and the squealing bride-and-groom-to-be had been allowed to take photos together on the grand staircase before regular visitors began arriving for the day. Their family and friends had been hiding in the house, waiting for the moment, all ready to burst out and shout with joy after the question was asked and answered. It had left you with a migraine.

Another lover had popped their question to her beloved out in the gardens while you were trying to get some fresh air on your short morning break. You'd fled back to the breakroom and hung your head in your hands for the rest of your fifteen minutes of quiet.

Now, in the middle of the afternoon, there are so many couples on dates strolling through the halls of Hazelwood House that it felt like an intentional taunt. Being fresh off a breakup at Valentine's Day is no one's idea of a good time. So you just pace your area, walking through the three rooms of the house museum that are under your care for this hour, and hope that the floor just opens up to swallow you whole.

Which is how you accidentally walked straight into a guest.

"Oh! Excuse me! I'm so sorry, that was entirely my fault."

Javi Gutierrez manages to keep himself from stumbling but immediately reaches out to steady you. “No, no, I was wandering around.” He shakes his head, ready to take the blame himself as his eyes meet yours and he swears that his heart skips a beat. He straightens slightly, still holding your arms. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, as if you had been injured by the minor collision.

"I'm totally fine." Shaken, sure, but only because of your own clumsiness and the fact that you just had to bump into the hottest guy you've ever seen in your entire life. "I—I'm sorry." Come on, get it together. "I was distracted." Lie, for fuck's sake. "I just noticed a little detail in the flooring that I had never seen before."

“The floor?” Javi frowns as he looks down at the intricate tiles beneath both of your feet. “What about the floor?” He asks curiously, wondering if it is something special.

"Well..." It's nerdy. It's so nerdy. But there actually is something special about the mosaic tile in this particular room of the house. "The billiard room is covered in mosaic, but I've never paid much attention to the grain of the marble before." An utter lie, you stare at it every day. "Do you see the swirls of blue and gray here? It's the same marble as the fireplace."

Instead of looking at you like you are crazy, Javi squats down and brushes his fingers over the glazed tiles, staring at the colorful patterns for a long moment, memorizing them. Then he lifts his head to stare at the fireplace. “So they tiled the mosaic with marble instead of regular tiles?” He asks, trying to follow.

"It looks like it." He gets excited easily, this incredibly handsome man, and it relaxes you a little. Guests who get excited about little details are one of the things you love most about working in a museum. "Now I'm thinking about taking a photo of the different colors and comparing them to the other fireplaces in the house."

“Can you backtrack through the house?” He looks around worried for a moment and then back at you. “The guides won’t get mad?”

"You're only a few rooms in, I can walk you back to the first fireplace if you'd like?" That would be the breakfast room, which is an easy stroll backward from where you are now and you point it out to him on the map that is printed on the packet of information in his hand. It seems he opted not to download the audio tour as so many do.

He tilts his head, contemplating it seriously. “Then we should do it, no?” He asks. “See if it matches? It should, or no? Maybe it depends on the style of the room?”

"Let's find out, if you're curious. We can check the three fireplaces in this section of the house and you can compare the pictures you take here to the others as you keep moving through the house." You would walk with him, guide him yourself, because it's just so nice to stumble upon someone nice and not on a date today...but abandoning your area of the house would get you in a hell of a lot of trouble.

“Okay.” He smiles at you and wonders if you are waiting for your partner to arrive. It’s Valentine’s Day after all and he had thought to distract himself with work. “The house is very, um, nice.” He says as you start to steer him back towards the other rooms. Small talk can be awkward and he’s not as good as it as he would like at times. Nervous about making a negative impression.

"The whole place is gorgeous." The grounds are a popular tourist attraction, with plenty of weddings and other parties happening on the grounds in addition to the mansion being a museum. "Have you ever visited Hazelwood Park before?"

“This is my first time.” Javi confesses. “I have heard of it, but woke up this morning and decided today was the day.” He had honestly figured there wouldn’t be a lot of couples here. He had been wrong.

"Well, welcome." Back in the breakfast room, you turn to face the soft green marble fireplace. "This does look like the same green of the turtle in the mosaic," you admit. The shades are remarkably similar.

“So they matched the edging of this floor to the fireplace.” The entire floor isn’t a mosaic, but the banding around the edges is. “This fireplace is larger.” He tilts his head. “Perhaps they did not have enough of the leftovers to use, hm?”

"If they only used the pieces that were considered scrap during the carving of the fireplaces, then it would make sense that they wouldn’t have any large pieces." The thin tile line around the otherwise parquet flooring has always charmed you unexpectedly. You had never seen anything like it before.

“It is a good way to use up all the materials.” He agrees. “Because I’m assuming the marble was imported?” It’s nothing he’s ever considered before but your enthusiasm for the details excites him.

"Oh yes, absolutely." In fact, you had had to memorize where all of it came from as part of your knowledge test to be a full-fledged docent. "This particular stone comes from Italy."

“You know a lot about this.” He smiles. “Is the house a favorite place to visit for you?”

"Oh!" You break out into a nervous laugh and realize that this entire time, the nametag and lapel pin that you wear on your cardigan marking you as an employee haven't been visible. "No, I--I work here. I've been here about a year now."

“Oh…oh I am sorry.” He bites his lip as he tries to hide the embarrassed grin. “I didn’t realize. I thought you were just an enthusiast.”

"Being an enthusiast is sort of how I got the job," you admit. Shrugging your shoulders, you straighten out your cardigan again and do up one button to make sure both pins stay visible. "It turns out that I really love it. Beyond just thinking the place is beautiful."

“That explains your comment about this section of the house.” He chuckles, wiping his hands on his pants and shoving them in his pockets. “I had assumed you were waiting on someone. Now I know that’s it’s other tour groups.

"Have to stay in my section." A light, awkward laugh travels between you but even that little sound from him sounds angelic. "But if you like these first few rooms, then you'll love the rest of the house."

“Which is your favorite room?” He asks, looking down at his map.

"Today?" You laugh a little, emboldened by the way he seems to smile with his whole face. Like he really doesn't mind talking to you. Like he might even enjoy it. "I love them all, but I think the library might be the best part of the whole house."

“Do you like to read?” He asks, charmed by your laugh and the way you seem to light up at the question. As if you aren’t normally asked a personal question. “The library was always where I was chided, but then it was also where I could escape into different worlds when I couldn’t do other things.”

"That's the beauty of books." Something you believe unabashedly. Stories are an escape -- whether that is books or movies or plays, or whatever else. "Being able to run away into a different world is powerful. It's freeing." Warmth creeps up your neck and into your cheeks and you nearly feel embarrassed for getting so excited about it except that he's still smiling. "The library in this house? I would curl up in front of that fireplace with a stack of books beside me on the chaise lounge and one of those little table all covered in the blue China from the butler's pantry and a whole plate of scones. I would just stay there all day and night."

“That sounds perfect.” He hums. “With the fire built up?”

“Oh, of course.” The scenario has played out in your head a thousand times, and one day you might just have to go antiquing for your own chaise so you can fulfill it. Of course…you’ll also need a home legitimate enough to have a fireplace. Not your shitty little studio apartment.

“Storm beating against the windows?” It would be a miracle in California, but he could imagine it in the setting of his latest screenplay. “Or snow?”

"Oh, it's been years since I saw a good snowstorm. I used to hate them, but I sort of miss it."

“I have not ever lived somewhere where there was snow.” He admits with a small shrug. “It is beautiful in pictures but I do not think it would be fun to have every day.”

"Oh, it's definitely not." Not even a little, and your immediate answer elicits laughs from both of you. "My favorite was when I was going to college in Boston and the college dug out our sidewalks for us. All the beauty of snow with none of the work."

“That is probably the best way to have the snow.” He admits with a laugh.

"Well..." Realizing you've probably monopolized enough of this extremely handsome, extremely charming man's time, you offer him a smile and try to smother the butterflies accumulating in the pit of your stomach. He has the most beautiful, soulful eyes you've ever seen. "Enjoy the rest of the museum. Take an extra look at the library when you pass through the south wing and you'll see what I mean about it being comfy."

He’s entirely disappointed to realize that he’s being dismissed. Enjoying the way you banter with him, he wishes he could ask you to give him the tour of the entire house so he could continue talking. Feeling more at ease with you than he has with anyone ever. “Thank you.” He hums softly. “I hope you have a wonderful day, full of beauty.”

"You too." You flounder for a few seconds, but you know you'll get in trouble if your supervisor sees you on the surveillance cameras talking to the same guest for too long, so you gently extract yourself to stroll as casually as possible back into the corner of the great hall that is included in your area of the house right now.

Javi watches you walk off and he sighs before he looks down at the map and pulls out his phone to take pictures of the rooms. Your attention to detail will have to be included in the film.

******

Saturday, December 23, 2023

It's the Christmas season the next time you see him, when the house is all done up in twinkling lights and wreaths with trimmed trees in almost every room. Bowls of chestnuts and pine cones and cherries replace the usual decorative hazelnuts and oranges. Pine boughs and poinsettias instead of big, beautiful flower arrangements. It's a nice change of pace, honestly, and on the weekends guests can buy tickets to the after-hours light display on the grounds. Out in the garden there are even refreshments and music plays from the trees that drip with even more lights.

Javier tucks into his light jacket. It’s not completely necessary, but it helps the spirit of the season. The lights are beautiful and he’s heard that the decorations are truly a sight to see.

The music outside just reminds you of the years that you worked in retail -- repetitive and sickly sweet Christmas songs pouring through speakers, but you dole out cups of cocoa and coffee at one of the refreshment tables outside with good enough spirits. There's bits of broken cookie to sneak every now and then, and the little gingerbread men are tasty morsels when you and the other docent working at the table can grab them.

“You were right about the library.” He hadn’t been looking for you. At least that’s what he tells himself, although he lights up for some reason when he recognizes you. “It’s perfect for a cozy day reading.”

"You..." It takes all you've got not to grab your friend's hand beside you, as the specter of the random guest you've had a crush on for almost a year materializes in front of you. "You remembered?" The full sentence is 'You remembered me?' but you don't say that.

He grins bashfully as he steps up to the table and looks down at the cookies and paper cups, trying to keep from staring at how pretty you are. Javi’s been around gorgeous women, but there’s something about the naked honest in your eyes that makes him feel almost feverish. “Of course I did.” He chuckles. “I went back through to find you that day, but you must have already gone home.”

“We move around the house every hour. To keep on our toes and so we don’t stare at the same set of walls the whole day.” Did he get even more attractive since last time? That would be so unfair. Criminally unfair, actually. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Enough to come back, even.”

“I had to see it during Christmas.” It also got him out of the tiny cottage he lives in. Around other people. Hopefully to distract from the loneliness of the holiday. “I don’t know if this might not be the best look for this place. Although I see it with candles lit all around.”

“It’s perfect in spring,” you tell him all too quickly, and end up flustering yourself so you have to tear your eyes away from his to look down at the grounds gather your damn wits back. “I mean…in early spring is when all the orange and hazelnut trees blossom. That’s how the property got its name. Hazelwood Park.”

“Is that so? I will have to check it out.” He looks suitably impressed and then motions to the table. “So, um, how much for a cookie and a cup of coffee?” He asks, not sure what else to say, but wanting to continue the conversation.

"Oh, they're free for guests. Help yourself." Your coworker offers helpfully, seeing you fluster and thoroughly enjoying the level of teasing that is going to happen after work tonight. "Why don't you take your break while we have a lull?" She suggests, practically batting her eyelashes with glee over the suggestion.

"Thanks, Moira," you hum with a tone that suggests you're going to kill her later. Then again? She has a point. These days that there are special events at work can be long. You've been on your feet for hours.

Javi is disappointed, sure that you will disappear on him since you have a chance to get off your feet and possibly get something to eat or drink yourself. “Oh, um, okay.” He takes a cup of be coffee and a cookie. “Thanks.”

"Make sure to show him your bench!" Moira suggests, far too loudly and excitedly to not be obvious, as she thrusts a cup of cocoa and a gingerbread man into your hands.

“Your bench?” He could kiss your friend for giving him something to grasp on to in order to keep the conversation going. “What is your bench?”

"It's...it's over on the west side of the property." You gesture to the left of were you're both standing and try to suppress the giddy and awkward shivers running up and down your spine. "Do you...would you want to walk?"

“Are you sure you want to?” He asks seriously, happy about spending time with you but it’s your break. “You don’t want to rest?”

"Benches are made for resting." Now that the chance has presented itself, you would actually be pretty bummed to miss out on the chance to chat with him again. And, in all honesty, you're pretty sure it's not your break at all. Moira just threw you out of the nest like a mama bird.

“Okay.” He agree to that easily and shifts to move the cookie into the same hand as his coffee to offer you his arm. “Lead the way.”

The chivalrous gesture damn near makes your knees buckle, and you follow suit. Shifting your snack into one hand lets you take his arm to lead him toward the ocean. "It's just...where I like to come sit." Of course it is. You groan at yourself internally. What else would you do at a bench but sit? "I take my lunch out here sometimes and things like that."

“So it’s your special place.” He likes the sound of that. Showing him something that you might not show every guest.

"I suppose you could say that." It's only a touch chilly tonight and the breeze coming off the ocean is welcoming. "It's a nice place to sit and think. To just watch the ocean and...dream."

“Hopefully the dreams are nice ones.” He offers, wondering what you might dream about. “Having a quiet place to think is always a good thing. I used to sit out at the cliffs and dream, plot, plan.”

"Cliffs?" Hazelwood Park is more or less on a cliffside, and you motion out toward the ocean again. "Like this one?"

“A little larger than this one.” He smiles as he thinks back to jumping off the cliff with Nic. “Mallorca has cliffs that go hundreds of meters in the air.” He tells you. “Some so steep you would be terrified to slip off the edge.”

“Mallorca?” Spanish. Damn. They really do make hotter men in Europe. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. You…traded one beautiful place to live for another?”

He shrugs slightly. “Hard to write movies anywhere else but Hollywood, no?”

“Hard, but not impossible.”

So there it is. Even the screenwriters in Hollywood are sexy. Maybe you should be grateful to live so close by, then? Southern California does have some fun things that back home didn’t. Rather than fawn over him — that’s never been your style — you just smile. “So you like libraries and you’re a writer. Stories run through your veins.”

“I would live in them if I could.” He admits wistfully. The little bench is drawing closer and he can see from the view from this point why you would like it. It’s a stunning place to look out over the water. The wind just a touch brisk as it ruffles his hair. The smell of the saltwater taking over.

“Me too.” And for reasons you can’t quite discern, you just keep talking. “That’s why I like history so much. It’s all just stories. Especially in big houses like this. Somebody’s whole life — their whole story — is wrapped up in that house.”

“And do you sometimes pretend you are the lady of the house?” He asks, imagining you in the skirts from that time.

"It would be sort of a shame to dream about the place and not dream the grand, elegant things. Wouldn't it?" When you reach the bench together, he seems to set you down first, letting you settle, and then sits beside you. "I think it's romantic. Curtis Hollingsworth built the place as a birthday gift for his wife. They were outgrowing their home because they were pregnant again, and he'd made millions helping to turn Santa Barbara into a spa town." The soft smile on your face is whimsical, but you can't help it. "Apparently, she loved oranges and hazelnuts. Which is why the trees are everywhere."

“He brought those to her.” He looks out over the water and takes a sip of the rich coffee. At least they had served a strong brew instead of something heartbreakingly weak. “To build a house for someone you love is a perfect way to show it.” He frowns slightly, remembering that he has a building site that was halted before the foundation was ever poured.

“It’s certainly a grand gesture.” Something in his tone and manner makes you hesitate, but you don’t know this man nearly well enough to ask a single personal question so you try to just press past it. “Of course, grand gestures aren’t the only way of showing love. Not by any means. But they do make wonderful stories.”

“Sometimes it’s just listening.” He agrees, thinking about how things between him and Gabriella had turned after moving to L.A. two years ago. She had been uninterested in the future he envisions and started working towards. Stopped talking to him about anything that wasn’t part of her own interests. He had tried to course correct, but it had ultimately not meant to be.

“I couldn’t agree more.” This time you do chance to look at him — sharp jaw and soft cheeks outlined against the night sky like a fully grown cherub, golden brown curls neatly and artfully tousled and waving in the breeze. He looks like a Romantic painting. “Lots of people talk about communication but not enough realize listening is included in that.”

His eyes find yours again, seeing the softness and understanding swimming in their depths and he feels like bearing his soul to you. “Is it probably the most important part.” He admits. “The world would be better if people understood that.”

“Again…” you swallow hard, feeling your mouth has run dry and chest fairly ripped open with the feeling of familiarity. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The silence falls between you. It’s not unpleasant, it’s almost hesitant. As if both of you are afraid of disturbing the uncluttered beauty of the moment as the waves crash against the coast at the wind batters playfully against your cheeks. Javi breaks off a piece of the cookie and dips it onto the coffee.

“You chose a beautiful night to come visit.” It’s clear and typically warm despite the ocean breeze, and even in the end of December, Southern California is a beautiful place to be. He could have gone to any of a thousand places but he chose to come here, and a small voice in the back of your head wonders — hopes — that maybe you had a part in making this place happy for him.

“I was compelled to come back.” He admits softly, looking over at you for a moment before breaking off the gaze to look out at the sea again.

“The house is like that.” When he looks away, you do too. “It draws people in.”

It’s not the house, but it would sound crazy to say that he wanted to see you again. Instead he hums. “I don’t think it’s just the house.”

“Well…” If you wanted to take that to heart, you feel like you could. It wouldn’t be difficult to give yourself that little bit of hope. But despite being easy, it would probably be very foolish. “I hope it helps you miss home a little less to sit on these cliffs, instead.”

“I think it does.” He takes the bite of the cookie and groans happily. “These are good.”

“Gingerbread is highly underrated,” you agree, and take a bite of your own after dipping it into your cup of cocoa. “I get why they’re seasonal but I wish I could find them so easily all year long.”

“Yes.” He agrees. “They would be good anytime.”

“What’s your favourite kind of cookie?” The question is innocuous enough, but you find yourself curious anyway. Curious to know about anything he feels like telling you.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder innocently. “A good chocolate chip cookie is always a comfort.” He admits. “Sometimes the simple things are the best.” He twists his head and looks over to you. “What is yours?”

“Have you ever heard of a hermit cookie?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, and grinning in amusement when he looks confused. “It’s a soft, spice cookie. Like gingerbread. Sometimes with raisins and nuts in it. They’re a bit old fashioned, but wonderful with coffee.”

“They sound like I should try some.” He would try anything you recommend right now, a fact that should scare him but it doesn’t. “How old are the cookies?” He asks, thinking about his screenplay.

“They’re from the 1880s or 90s, I think?” It does not escape your amusement or notice that this is the same time that the house you work in was built. “I don’t know if they’ve ever been popular outside of New England, but we do love them there.”

He hums and takes note of that. Deciding he will research it. “Hermit cookies.” He repeats. “Are there recipes for this? Online?”

"Probably." His entire attention has now focused in on this just because you said it was your favorite cookie and that makes you smile in a way you can't quite explain.

“Then I will have to look it up.” He smiles as he takes another sip of his coffee. “I like researching things. It is very interesting. Like your marble mosaic tiles.”

"You researched the tiles?" It's the sort of thing that you would only think of you or your coworkers doing, but hearing that he has enjoyed his time in the house -- and possibly with you -- so much warms your heart.

“It was interesting to learn how they chose the marbles.” He nods. “I never imagined a trip to Europe to pick out building materials.”

"It's a heck of a reason for a vacation," you agree, laughing slightly at the opulence of it all.

“Yes. And trips would take months.” He chuckles.

"I can't even imagine." To take a vacation at all would be a miracle. But one that was months long? It sounds positively absurd to your ear.

“Do you think they ever got bored?” He asks curiously. “Or tired of being away from home?”

"I have to imagine that they did." It's a question you've thought on more than you want to admit, but the stories in your head are always about everyday things. Wondering what the mundane things were like. "If I had a home like this I can't imagine ever wanting to be away from it. But I suppose the right person can make anything worthwhile."

“Were they soulmates?” He asks softly, having avoided the personal backgrounds of the homeowners when taking the tour. He had tried to keep his own characters in mind.

“They were. And when they left the house to their daughter, she married her soulmate here. And then her daughter married her soulmate here, as well. The house has a history of lifelong loves.”

“That is nice.” His tone is wistful. “I don’t know if I will ever meet my soulmate.” Javi confides, normally keeping that information to himself but he blurts it out. “I worry about it sometimes.”

“I don’t know a single person who hasn’t worried about it at some point.” Even your sister, who said she didn’t mind not marrying her soulmate as long as the woman she found was a loving partner, had been thoroughly overjoyed when she had found her now wife on Mate Marks. Everyone thinks about it — worries about it — even if they don’t want to admit it. “I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.” You offer him a smile, knowing you’ve gone over your fifteen minutes for your break and not wanting to be caught flirting with a guest on company time. “Whoever you do find is going to be very lucky to have you.”

He smiles again. “Have you found yours?” He figures you probably have, you are beautiful and captivating.

"Not yet." Even though you'd rather not, you stand from the bench. "I don't know if I ever will. Only time will tell."

“I know you have to go back to work.” Javi leaps off the bench and shuffles, wishing he could ask you to stay. “Thank you for showing me this place.” He bites his lip. “Uh, can I walk you back?”

The warmth rushes back to your cheeks, and you practically squirm with delight. "Thank you. I'd like that."

He offers his arm again, taking your empty hot cocoa cup from you to hold with his own trash. “Imagine the parties they used to hold here.” He breathes out as the two of you turn back towards the house.

"We're setting up an exhibit with some of the gowns. It's meant to open in about six weeks." You light up with that fact, excited to see all the swishing gowns and glimmering jewels for yourself. "Descendents of the family donated a large collection of clothing, shoes, and jewelry to the museum this part year."

“Wow.” He chuckles, thinking about the parties he would throw when he was pretending to be an olive oil exporter. He’s much happier being a screen writer, even if he can’t afford those parties and bought friends anymore. “That was generous of them.”

"They say the most spectacular pieces are still privately owned by the family, but the things I've seen so far have been absolutely gorgeous." If you're a little dreamy-eyed at the prospect, he doesn't seem to mind.

“It sounds like you would have loved to live during that time.” He smiles, knowing that he will have to insist the movie be filmed here.

"I'm probably overly romanticizing it," you admit. But the tent is in view already and you hate the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that wonders if he'll ever come back again. "I hope—" Biting back what you really hope, you go for a polite encouragement instead, "That the things you've found in your research have given you plenty to think about. And maybe romanticized it for you, too."

“It has.” Even if you have no interest in him, you’ve given him a focal point for his movie. “Thank you. This is a magical place.”

"Then I hope you'll come back again." At least in that you can be honest. There is nothing you would like more than to see him again.

“Really?” He’s surprised by your comment. Unless you are just being polite.

"Really." You promise him, but at the edge of the refreshments tent, you have to let his arm go.

He’s disappointed by the loss of your fingers on his jacket. “Well. I hope the rest of your night is magical.” He offers, bowing slightly and smiling at you.

"I can all but guarantee it now." One more smile. One more lingering, dopey smile, and you know you have to tear yourself away. "Have a good night..." Oh no. Have you really gone and sat and flirted with this man for your whole break and not even learned his name?

He nods and turns away, sure that it would be rude to try to extend the conversation. He will just have to go home and write about this, working it into the plot of his movie somehow.

******

Monday, June 10, 2024

The email went out before opening time, when only your bosses were up in the offices and the docent core hadn’t gotten to work yet. You’d nearly crashed your car in excitement while CarPlay read the email out to you on the highway.

A movie. An actual Hollywood movie is coming to film at the museum!

The second you clocked in and sprinted to the break room to put your things away, you almost clobbered Moira with squealed, giddy glee.

“Did you hear?? Did you see Leslie’s email?!”

“Oh my god, yesssss.” She lights up and nods quickly. “It’s a movie by that guy who did the Nic Cage movie a couple of years ago.” She informs you. “The one that won an Oscar and restarted that man’s career?” After a long slump of bad movies, the older actor had exploded back on the scene, apparently full of new life and motivation for his trade.

“I can’t wait until we find out more!” Being able to hug your friend and squeal together is such a rush. The two of you have become joined-at-the-hip work friends to the point where the friendship has bled into everyday life. “A name, a plot, any of the stars?”

“Actors.” She sighs dreamily. “Imagine if your soulmate or mine, is an actor who comes to film?” She loves the glitz and glam of Hollywood and always secretly imagined being an actress herself, although she’s realistic enough to understand that it would be impossible to have happen.

“Maybe yours will be.” You laugh, hugging her again before you have to break away to pull your radio headset out of your bag. There is still work to do today, desire the excitement. “You’ll have to make sure you always wear your hair up so your tattoo is visible.” The little raven behind her ear would be a hell of a lot easier to show off than the tarot card on her though, anyway. Moira’s tattoos are gorgeous and just unique enough that you would bet there was no duplicate in the works besides her soulmate.

“Oh I’m planning on it.” She licks her lips and waggles her brows suggestively. “What about you? Yours aren’t so visible.” She knows how much you secretly want to meet your soulmate and be with them. It was a drunken girl’s night confession but she had never teased you over it.

“There’s no reason to go around showing everyone my marks.” You shrug a little and busy yourself with plugging into a walkie-talkie and adjusting your headset in your ear. “A lot of people have ankle scars, don’t they? And I can’t exactly show off my butterfly.” Exposing that much skin is definitely against dress code.

“Is it your scar or his?” You had never mentioned that, just that you had a scar.

“It’s theirs.” However your soulmate is, you’ve tried very hard not to make assumptions about them. The person you hope for might not be the person you get, and that wouldn’t be fair to them. “I was nine when it appeared, so my best guess has always been they fell out of a tree or play sports.”

“And the tattoo is yours?” She knows, she’s just chatting because it’s better than actually getting ready to work right now.

“Twenty-first birthday.” You nod, knowing that she knows but that Moira likes a slower start to her day than you usually do. “I did the opposite of most people. I got the tattoo and then went out to get drunk.”

“Which is a very valid and smart thing to do.” She praises. “That way you don’t bleed too much and it’s a nice way to numb the pain after.” Her own walkie comes out to begrudgingly clip to her waist. “But this movie, it has to be a period piece, right? No way a modern millionaire would live in a house like this.”

“It has to be. There’s no point in renting out a historical house museum for four entire months unless you’re going to use it all.” Not that you know too much about the filming process, but it just makes logical sense. “And besides, they’re here in spring and summer, which is usually our busy season. So I’m sure Leslie charged them a fortune. But HBO can afford it, I guess.”

“What if they let us be extras?” Her eyes widen at the sudden thought. “Oh god, we could wear our work!” She giggles happily at the thought.

“I assume there will have to be extras somehow.” Truthfully, you’d let your Hollywood dreams die out a long time ago. Moira’s were much more present. It would be amazing to see her to be able to fulfill them with even just a morsel like being an extra. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

“When it gets closer you will be just as excited as I am.” She predicts with a knowing grin.

“I’m plenty excited,” you promise, happily hugging her to your side as the two of you head out into the house together. “I just think you belong in front of a camera much more than I do.”

“You’ll change your mind.” She teases. “When you see what gorgeous actors and actresses they bring, you will be begging to flirt with them. On and off camera.”

“Maybe.” Her confidence is catching, and you laugh again at the thought of it. Hollywood has come knocking on your door and it’s already making work a hell of a lot more fun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

[kelloggsenthusiast]

if you're reading this - luigi mangione x reader

just want to let you all know that all the accusations made against this and are just that- accusations

innocent until proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt

(not beta read)

he had been caught.

that's all you had been seeing all day. his pictures all over social media and the news, some demonising him and calling him a terrorist, others calling him a hero. you were just confused. three weeks ago, he just up and left your shared apartment without so much as an explanation. you wished you knew better but you couldn't explain it. you loved him and you thought he lived you right back. he was so sweet and doting and attentive to you, even if he hadn't been the same since the accident.

the accident... it had dimmed his light significantly. he couldn't hike or climb or do the things he once loved, being too financially and physically incapacitated to do it, and that's when you noticed his shift. you'd been seeing each other for some years, even talking about the idea of marriage before the accident happened. after it, though, it's like a switch flipped. he came to stay with you while he was covering his medical bills and you could see up close how it changed him. he became distant from you and obsessed with a lot of socialist literature, reading while he wasn't working. his parents and family called you several times because he had effectively stopped speaking to anyone since then. he was different and it was difficult for you to watch what had become of him now that...

you were on your way home from a long day at work, only made longer by seeing your boyfriends face everywhere. you had to turn off the radio because of all the news reports every few seconds. you couldn't believe it, but at the same time, you could. he had an implicitly calloused way of handling things that you'd always said would land him in prison. little did you know, it was literally landing him in prison. the health care system, after all, killed your childhood best friend and left him disabled and in debt. he was the one who just went to go and make his grievances known.

upon your arrival at your apartment, you headed straight for his desk and flipped through all the papers and manuscripts, reading through his detailed notes and excerpts from books and studies. then you saw it. a letter, starting with the words: if you're reading this, they got me. and I'm sorry.

your heart lurched when you saw those words and you didn't even realise that tears were running down your face. you continued reading thr note in his familiar messy handwriting, sharp and thin lettering you recognised as his.

I'm so sorry. I know I've been abandoning you and our relationship. I've been abandoning everyone. but I can't just deal with this pain any longer, and I can't bear to see you suffer because of something neither of us could have predicted. I've cleared the medical debts and paid for the apartment for the next three months. you're free now. and I want you to use that freedom to find happiness beyond me. I love you. but I know I won't be there for you much from jail. you've always been headstrong and intelligent, so I hope you'll understand why I chose to do what I did. I'm truly, truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me. and more importantly, I hope you can find happiness beyond me. I love you.

a short something for all of you. prayers for all of you in the states, I never knew it was this bad. if ceo's were popped as often as kids in school, gun control would be a thing. once again, free luigi. he didn't do anything wrong. - saïe

[pricesgirl]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

12

(T.W bpd episode towards the end, if that's at all triggering skip Jinx's second POV <3)

Jinx

The bass thrums through the walls, vibrating my bones, and the air reeks of sweat, liquor, and the sharp tang of people pretending they belong here.

Caitlyn Kirammans party.

Fucking fantastic.

I can already feel the chaos simmering, the way the room shifts with every new body that spills in.

I like it here. I thrive on it.

But Y/N? She’s quiet, like she always is. Not her scene, not even close. But she’s here, and that’s all that matters.

She’s standing next to me, like a little wallflower in a sea of jackasses.

We’re close enough that I can feel the tension rolling off her in waves, but neither of us has said a word about it.

We don’t need to.

It’s our thing.

Our secret.

I’m half-focused on Y/N, the way she’s standing there, shoulders pulled in, trying not to get noticed.

She doesn’t belong here, not like this. She’s got a quiet aura, a stark contrast to the noisy, wild energy around us.

But she’s with me, and that’s enough to keep my blood pumping. I can’t let her get lost in the crowd.

Cait and Mel swoop in like vultures, all manicured nails and perfectly placed grins, and before I can stop it, Y/N’s wrist is in Cait’s hand.

She barely has time to glance at me before they’re dragging her away, swallowed by the mass of bodies like she was never even standing next to me in the first place.

I feel my jaw clench, but I don’t move. I could. I could storm after her, could grab her back, could tell Cait to keep her prissy little hands to herself. But I don’t.

Because that’s not how this works.

Instead, I lean back against the wall, tapping my fingers against my thigh. Watching.

Mel says something, and Y/N laughs, but it’s that tight, polite laugh, the one she does when she’s being the good girl everyone expects her to be.

I fucking hate it.

I hate how easy it is for her to put that mask on, to pretend she’s one of them. I wonder if it ever gets exhausting, all that pretending.

Then I hear it.

“Alright, time for a game,” someone calls, and the crowd shifts, bodies pressing in as the living room turns into some kind of makeshift arena.

Great.

I push off the wall, weaving my way closer, close enough to see Y/N standing there, stiff as a damn board, while Cait and Mel laugh like they’ve already won something.

There’s a table in the center, scattered with shot glasses, a deck of cards, a stupid-looking bowl filled with crumpled-up slips of paper.

Truth or dare.

Of course.

I should’ve known Caitlyn and her bougie ass parties wouldn’t settle for anything normal.

I move to the edge of the crowd, close enough that I could step in if I wanted to. But Y/N’s shoulders are squared, her chin lifted just a little.

She’s handling it.

For now.

Mel reaches into the bowl first, plucking a slip and unfolding it like it holds the secrets of the universe. Then she smirks. “Y/N,” she says, her voice silky smooth, like she’s been waiting for this.

Y/N’s fingers twitch at her sides. “Truth.”

The air fucking shifts.

The question hangs, sharp and invasive, like it’s dissecting something private.

Y/N’s breath catches, just for a split second, but it’s enough for me to notice. Her back straightens, and her eyes dart around the room, like she’s looking for an escape.

Like there’s no way out.

I hate the way everyone’s looking at her now, waiting, eager. I hate that I can feel the pressure of their gaze too.

I hate that she’s stuck, caught in this moment where she has to lie or risk her privacy.

She looks at me, just for a breath, and I see it—the panic behind her eyes.

She can’t say it.

She can’t tell them about us.

And I get it.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“I… I don’t know,” she says finally, voice too steady, too practiced. “I haven’t really had a romantic moment recently.”

The words hit like a punch to the chest. Her voice is steady, but her eyes flicker—flicker—back to me, and I feel it.

It’s a lie.

A lie so heavy I can’t breathe.

Mel’s smile is wide and expectant, but Y/N can’t bring herself to meet it. Instead, she looks down at the floor, as if she’s trying to disappear into it.

The whole room is dead silent, like they’re waiting for her to elaborate. I can feel the weight of their curiosity, the subtle shift in energy. It’s too much. Too fucking much.

I stand there, frozen, while her words wrap around me like a noose. It’s not the truth. It’s not even close.

But I can’t force her to say it.

I won’t make her.

But God, does it hurt.

And then, without a word, Y/N stands up straighter, pasting that smile of hers back on.

It’s weak, like it’s barely holding together, but it’s there. She’s doing what she does best—pretending.

The game moves on, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted.

I can feel the distance between us growing with every breath. And I can’t help but wonder how much longer we can keep pretending.

But I don’t ask. I don’t need to.

I already know the answer.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Y/N

The weight of the moment lingers like a heavy fog, suffocating everything around me. The game moves on, people laughing, clinking glasses, like nothing’s wrong.

Like I didn’t just shatter something precious. But I feel it. The crack that just split between me and Jinx. The way her eyes—those eyes—refused to meet mine when I lied. When I denied what we were.

I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m pushing through the crowd, desperate to catch up to her, desperate to fix whatever this is, before it breaks.

She’s already halfway out the door, her shoulders tense, her back a line of defiance. Like she’s preparing to leave. Like she’s already gone.

“Jinx!” I call, my voice a little too sharp, a little too broken, and the moment she hears me, she stops. But she doesn’t turn. She doesn’t give me the satisfaction of seeing her face, not yet.

I can hear her breath catch, feel the walls she’s putting up between us—cold, rigid, like she’s made of stone.

I take a step closer, and the words tumble out before I can stop them. “Jinx, wait. Please.”

She finally turns, but it’s not the way I want. She faces me with that look, the one that says everything’s messed up. That look that makes my chest tighten and my throat close. Her hands are clenched at her sides, her expression unreadable, like she’s afraid I’ll see too much.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Her voice is quiet, too calm, but I hear the edge underneath it, the tremor she’s hiding, and it's almost like my name tastes foul on her lips, there's no honey laced teasing. Just my name, so hollow and empty.

“Please, just let me explain,” I try again, my words tumbling over each other, desperate, pleading. “I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t—”

“You didn’t mean it?” Her voice breaks, just a little, and I feel the sting of it deep in my chest. Her eyes narrow, and she steps forward, her gaze sharp, cutting through the distance. “You think I’m just some—some experiment to you?”

The words hit like a slap, and I stagger back, the realization sinking in like a weight I can’t shake.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Jinx, I—”

“Don’t.” She cuts me off, her voice low, deadly. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to use me when it’s convenient and then act like it’s nothing when things get real.”

Her words are a punch to the gut.

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. I can’t form the words. Because deep down, she’s right.

“You think I’m just some fucking game, Y/N? Some person you get to play with until you’re bored?” She’s shaking now, her breath ragged, fists clenched so tight her knuckles are white. “I’m not your fucking experiment. I’m not something you get to try out when it suits you and then throw away when it’s inconvenient.”

The hurt in her voice is a raw, jagged thing. It cuts deeper than any insult, any accusation. I want to reach out, to fix it, but I don’t know how.

“You never even told them the truth,” she continues, her voice trembling with rage and pain. “You lied to everyone. You lied to me. And now you’re telling me you didn’t mean it?”

I open my mouth, but the words stick in my throat. I didn’t mean it. But the truth... the truth feels like a weight I can’t bear to carry.

“I didn’t know how to—”

“Exactly,” she snaps. “You never knew how to. You don’t know what it’s like, Y/N, to be someone’s secret. To feel like you’re not even real.”

The words fall between us like shattered glass. And in that moment, I know she’s right. I’ve been so afraid of everything—of us, of the consequences—that I forgot she was real. That she wasn’t just some thing to hide away, tucked into the corners of my life where no one could see.

But now she’s here, raw and real, and she’s done pretending.

“Jinx, I’m sorry. I... I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

Her expression softens, just for a moment, but it’s not enough. Not enough to erase the hurt, the feeling that she’s already slipping through my fingers.

“Then stop making me feel like I’m nothing,” she says, her voice small, broken. “I’m not your fucking secret, Y/N. And I’m not some experiment you can toss aside when it gets too hard.”

I stand there, speechless, the weight of her words pressing down on me. And for the first time, I don’t know how to fix it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

“Pow, please, it’s scary—”

Y/N’s face is all scrunched up, like she can’t decide if she’s going to cry or scream, her little hands clutched together like they’re trying to hold herself together. She’s always been like that, so gentle, so careful.

I don’t understand it then. I don’t understand why she’s scared, why she’s pulling away. All I want is to make her laugh, to make her stop being afraid. I just want to see that soft smile, the one she only gives me.

But it’s not happening.

“Don’t be a baby, Y/N.” My voice comes out harsh, too sharp, the kind of thing that cuts when it’s not meant to. But I don’t see it. I can’t see it.

Her lip trembles, and she takes a step back.

“Pow, I—I don’t like it when you do that.”

I laugh, but it’s bitter. “What? You don’t like it when I make you laugh? When I make you feel something?”

She shakes her head, eyes wide, like she’s suddenly seeing me for the first time. It’s like the ground is shifting beneath me, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“Pow…”

I don’t hear her. I’m already moving, already too far gone in my head to care about her feelings. The world around me is spinning, and I’m trapped in it, my thoughts fraying. I want to push her, make her laugh again, make her stop being scared.

But instead, I see it. I see her, backing away from me, her small hands held up like shields, like I’m the thing she’s afraid of.

“Stop,” she whispers, so softly, so quietly, but it cuts deeper than anything she could’ve yelled at me.

And I freeze.

Because I’ve broken her.

“Y/N…”

“I can’t... be your friend anymore, Powder.”

Her words hit harder than any slap. They feel like they’re carving into me, leaving jagged pieces behind.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Nothing that makes sense. I can’t fix it. I can’t make it better.

And she’s already gone.

I watch her walk away, and I can feel the walls closing in. My heart is pounding in my ears, and all I want is to reach out, to stop her, but my legs won’t move.

She’s gone.

And I never knew how to make her stay.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

The sound of my breathing is jagged—too loud—and I can’t catch it, like I’m suffocating on it.

It’s all I can hear. I’m drowning in it, in every breath that feels too thick, too wrong.

The walls are closing in.

The room is too small.

Too tight.

My chest—fuck—feels like someone’s wrapped their hands around my ribs and is squeezing, squeezing until I can’t take it anymore.

No—

I try to inhale, but my lungs are—they’re full of nothing.

I’m gasping, barely breathing, struggling to get air, struggling to stop my heart from exploding out of my chest.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

The thoughts start coming, jagged, violent, louder and louder, and I can’t escape them.

They’re fucking everywhere, stabbing me in the head like knives, ripping through my mind like a hurricane.

You fucked up. You always fuck up.

She’ll never love you.

I scream—louder, but it’s not enough.

It’s not enough to drown out the voices.

God, it’s not enough.

I can’t think.

I can’t feel anything but this, this overwhelming pressure, this suffocating weight pressing down on me, crushing me, until I’m nothing but a pile of shaking limbs.

I claw at my face, trying to make it stop, but the tears—they won’t stop.

Hot, fast, stinging, falling in streams I can’t control. My skin’s crawling.

I’m so fucking hot, like I’m burning alive, but then I feel cold, too cold, like I’m freezing from the inside out.

I scream again, a primal, ugly sound, and my hands shake so violently that they’re hitting the floor, knocking things over.

I don’t know what’s real anymore.

The walls are spinning. The floor is spinning.

I can’t make it stop.

Why didn’t you say it? Why didn’t you fight for her?

You fucked up.

I’m on my knees now, rocking back and forth, my body jerked with each shudder, each scream, each thought crashing through my skull.

I can’t stop moving. I can’t stop anything.

She doesn’t care.

YOU’RE NOTHING.

I can’t breathe. I clutch my chest, fingers digging into my skin, feeling the panic, the fire, the ice, the suffocating, overwhelming nothing that’s making me fucking disappear.

Why didn’t you just leave her alone?

You don’t matter. You never mattered.

I can’t hold it together. I can’t fix it. I can’t do anything but shake, scream, hurt.

And the voices—they’re fucking louder.

No one loves you!

You're a fucking mess!

I pull at my hair, tears streaming, gasping between sobs, but nothing helps. The world is spinning, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it stop.

I scream again, thrashing, but there’s no relief. There’s nothing.

I’m drowning.

I’m drowning.

I close my eyes, wishing I could just stop, wishing I could just disappear. Anything. Anything to make it stop.

But it never does.

It never fucking stops.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: so the honeymoon phase wasn't for long, but there will be a very nice reconciliation

please like and reblog <3

also timebomb fic is out, if you like mary janes so far, it's a similar writing style and setting so go check it out :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62833570/chapters/160875787

[kechiwrites]

mirror image

toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader

part 7/8

synopsis: two weeks into your uneasy truce, simon gets introspective.

wc: 811

cw: afab!reader, angst, banter that becomes arguing, hurt and the tiniest bit of comfort, language, trust issues, simon's pov, no gendered language. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: well, we back at it, the second last installment of this verse. i'll still take requests/thots for it of course, but soon we'll get closure for these two. for now, simon's thoughts on their situation.

new to baby blue? start here.

It’s disarming. 

And Simon Riley doesn’t like being disarmed. He doesn’t like being caught off guard, off kilter, unstable. 

It’s been happening more and more often though.

When you and Tommy look at him in perfect unison, he is struck stupid by your eyes, like you copy and pasted them onto your son. His son. His kid. His perfect, funny kid. Unmuddied by everything bad in the world. His life is pancakes and dinosaurs and that horrible fucking tv show that he’s sure rots his little mind. His life is you. Your smiles, your laugh, your cooking, your hugs. Things Simon cheated himself of when he walked out on you, choked with fear and bleeding misery.

Simon is disarmed, totally fucking helpless, a veritable babe in the woods when you let him hold you. When for the first time, in a long ass time, he gets to watch your lids flutter closed and slip into unconsciousness, in that quick, carefree way he’s always envied. 

He barely sleeps, even less so lately. 

After all, no sleeping meant no nightmares. No cloying, choking smoke-like fears reaching for the frayed edges of his subconscious. No sleeping meant he couldn’t play on your kindness, your goodness, and guilt you into holding him back when he woke up screaming, sweating, no matter how bad he wanted it.

It’s two weeks later. Two weeks after sleeping together but not sleeping together. After breakfast and an uneasy truce. Two weeks after kissing you and touching you and holding you like you both had all the time in the world. 

You’re not in a good mood. And he knows that. But he pushes you anyway, pokes and prods you even as you slam through your kitchen, noisily pulling out a pot and a huge bag of pasta shells.

“Let’s talk.” He approaches, arms crossed, full kit traded in for a skull emblazoned cloth mask, jeans and a threadbare black t-shirt, one he’d found in your bedroom days ago, stashed in the back your drawer, crumpled in a wrinkled ball, like you didn’t want to see it, but you didn’t want to trash it either. He’s been doing that lately, staying over for days and rifling through your shit, finding old relics and artifacts from a time neither of you can let go of. An old mask, a hat, t-shirts.

So many goddamn t-shirts.

“Talk?” you snort derisively, filling the pot with water. He watches you test the water with your fingertips and curse under your breath, mumbling something about shit pipes. When the pot is full, you turn to face him, lips curled, sneering. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of that. Thought you just communicated in grunts.”

“You’re funny. That's new.” He jabs, advancing in the conversation much faster than he should have, comforted in familiar territory, finding solace in what used to be commonplace for you, banter, barbs, teasing. The tense set of your shoulders should’ve warned him off it, should’ve told him you’d take it as well as a bullet in the back. But God help him, he’ll take whatever you give.

“Mm.” Your tone is casual but your answering nod is jerky, too fast, “Yeah, I developed a sense of humour when I realized our relationship had been a joke.” You slam the pot onto a burner, giving him your back. 

The air is suddenly devoid of mirth, utterly obliterated where it had been floating between you before. Now the living room and kitchen are a smoking crater, an oil rig on fire, a disaster site. 

He’s never been more grateful for his son’s propensity to nap like he’s dead.

Neither of you say anything. Simon is waiting for you to say something, to dress him down, but when you lower your head and sigh, heavy and deep with pain and exhaustion he planted within you, Simon withers. He slinks back to the living room and drops himself onto your couch. 

You wait, he’s not sure what for. He used to be so good at preempting your actions, your thoughts, your words, now he handles you like you’re a venomous reptile, looking for exposed, vulnerable flesh to strike, to bite.

You set down the glass you’d been drinking from hard. And he’s surprised you didn’t crack it.

“What do you want, Simon?” Question of the goddamn century, it is. And you’ve asked it of him plenty of times. But he never has an answer, can never really deduce just what the fuck he’s doing here, with you. With Tommy. Playing a game? Playing a role? Punishing you? Himself? All of it could be true, but none of it seems right. 

“I want to try.”

All he knows is that before this, four years seemed like a short time, nothing really. But now?

It’s an eternity. Reflected back to him in broken glass, in half full drawers, in his son’s eyes. 

In yours.

comments + tags + reblogs are so appreciated

oh simon...what do you want?

series masterlist here

[wondrluv]

emma ! Congrats on 1k !! I'm so happy for you ! Mwah !

can I get🪻with the prompt "Stop giving me hope. It hurts so much more." for Luke Hughes please !

How about the reader and Luke dating but he's going to Jersey so they decide to end things, but Luke just keeps giving reader hope. Maybe it ends with one showing up to the others place?

but, if you get another idea feel free to do it ! 🫶🏼🧡

✿ CUPID'S FLORAL SHOP ✿

here's a freshly picked lonely lavender 🪻 !

warnings: breakup, reader not really trying to fight for the two of them

word count: 774

florist cupid: thank you ana 😚 i hope you enjoy some little lukey angst mhm

both of you knew it was going to happen soon, between the rumors online and between the talks luke's been having, you knew it was coming up but neither of you wanted to be the first to bring it up.

so for two weeks, you acted like everything was normal: hanging out in your rooms watching movies, going out on date nights, and taking late-night drives around campus.

but soon the anxiety started to eat at you, not knowing what your future was going to be like once he left, if you two would make it through the two years you still had to be in michigan.

luke could see it tearing you down every time you guys hung out, you bit your lip more than usual, went from leaning into his hugs to scooting away from him a second later, short text messages, the lot.

the lack of communication between you two was putting a damper on any hope you could have had for your relationship after he went to new jersey, and now? maybe you weren't so sure if you should continue this.

you showed up to his place after your last class of the day. you knew he didn't have practice and it was uncommon for you to come by unannounced, everyone had gotten used to you walking in, saying your quick greetings and then making your way to luke's room without another word.

you knocked softly on his door, twisting the handle once you heard his familiar 'come in'. you walked in, setting your bag on the ground near the door and made your way over to his bed, sitting on it.

"hey baby."

you internally cringed at how happy he looked, he had been putting on a brave face for the both of you these past few weeks. as much as he wanted this to work out and keep you by his side for the rest of his life, he knew he couldn't, but maybe he would change your mind.

"hi."

there was no mistaking luke's frown when he heard your soft voice, almost as if you were scared all the words would tumble out as soon as you opened your mouth.

"what's wrong?"

you took a deep breath before speaking, "i don't think i can do this anymore."

"what do you mean?"

"i mean that you're going away soon and i don't know if i can do this whole long-distance thing. you're going to be busy with practice and games and i'll be busy with homework and exams and i just- i'm scared we'll get too engrossed in our lives and forget about each other."

"i wouldn't forget you, y/n/n-"

"luke... maybe it's for the best. maybe we need to focus on ourselves and just not worry about putting each other on the back burner."

"sweetheart, i would never put you on the back burner. you're the most important person in my life, i'm always going to put you first." he reached for your hand, taking it in his larger ones, warmth radiating through you.

tears pricked your eyes and you did everything in your power to keep them in, but as soon as one fell, the others were quick to follow.

you shook your head at his words as they finally registered in your mind, "luke we can't. we're going to get so busy and-"

"i'm going to do everything i can to make sure you feel like i want you in my life, because i do, baby. nothing, not even 600 miles, is going to change that."

your voice cracked as you spoke again, "stop giving me hope, lukey. it hurts so much."

luke could feel his heartbreak at both your words and your voice crack. slowly he released your hand, nodding as you stood up and walked toward your bag.

no more words were spoken between you two, just the unspoken agreement that the past year and a half were nothing more than a memory now.

━。゜✿ ゜。━

two days later and luke was gone, in new jersey and all you were left was the deep pit in your stomach of guilt and sadness. you missed him, much more than you thought you would and much more than you wished you would.

you were so overwhelmed with the guilty feeling that you couldn't help your impromptu trip to new jersey. and now here you were, standing in front of jack's apartment getting ready to knock.

but just as you were about to rap your knuckles against the door, the door opened and you were met with the face of your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend.

"y/n?"

"luke."

back to the shop ! ; navigation !

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Lover’s Quarrel

Lee Russell x Reader

Summary: Reader is the third Vice Principal of North Jackson High. She often finds herself fighting with Lee Russell. Tension builds until it finally breaks.

CW: cussing because duh it’s Lee Russell, p in v, creampie, biting(?), Lee being a panty thief,

~~~

You sat alongside your two coworkers watching some of the kids practice for the pep rally. Neal Gamby and Lee Russell, your fellow Vice Principals. Only a few weeks back they had dragged you along for some harebrained scheme to get the new Principal, Dr. Belinda Brown, fired. Breaking into her home, resulting in Russell loosing it and burning her entire house down. You were in the thick of it with them now, no turning back.

Gamby and Lee argued back and forth about what the next plan was to ensure Belinda Brown was no more. You were halfway zoned out not much caring for their petty bickering.

“I can’t help both of you pussed out on me and ran,” Lee scoffed at Gamby. “You can’t be serious right now, what did you want us to go up in flames with the house?” Gamby rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Lee began talking through his teeth, “I’m talking about how we were gonna highjack her car too, Gamby! Could’ve burnt that shit down right in the school parking lot!”

“I think burning her new house down was far enough, Lee,” you finally chimed in.

“Yeah, dumbass. Don’t you think we would’ve been caught then?!” Gamby leaned in.

“She has kids, Lee. We’ve already made them homeless,” you sat up straight rolling your shoulders.

“You two are no fun!” Lee rolled his eyes, “Too invested in her personal life and shit. I don’t give a fuck about her! Neither should you, little miss sensitive.”

“That’s rich coming from someone with a detailed binder on every single faculty member in this building,” you stood up.

“Yeah!” Gamby pointed a finger in his face, “You’re the one who’s invested!”

“Shut the fuck up, Gamby,” Lee scrunched his face up at him. Lee’s eyes followed you as you walked down the bleachers.

“Where the fuck are you goin’, prissy pants?” Lee stood up behind you.

“Anywhere where I don’t have to hear your dumbass complain,” you turned around and threw your arms up.

“You always are the first one to back out on anything! Can’t even commit to a conversation with us,” Lee crossed his arms.

“Ooo a lovers quarrel,” Gamby teased.

“Shut Up, Gamby!” You both spoke together.

Lee began walking down the bleachers towards you. This just pissed you off worse.

It had almost always been like this with you and Lee. Small bickerings that were normally wrapped up with some flirting. All your coworkers constantly teased you both about fighting like an old married couple. Lee was different when you were alone. Staying late to help you with some paperwork that you could’ve done yourself, deeply complimenting you, always making an excuse to invite you into his office or himself into yours, lingering touches between you. Things had changed since Dr. Brown joined the faculty. Lee was sassier than ever. No longer willing to be any form of helpful, just hanging around throwing off-hand insults towards anyone and everyone. It had been growing old. You were sick of constant negativity pouring from him.

You headed down the stairs of the bleachers walking as fast as you could away from him.

“What’s the matter with you?” Lee rushed behind you, his hard steps echoing on the metal stairs. You ignored him, continuing forward. “I thought this was like our thing! Just some back and forth, what’s the big deal?” Lee scoffed.

“I’m not in the mood for this today, Lee,” you rolled your eyes refusing to look back at him. He was hot on your heals.

“What are you on your period or something?” Lee joked.

That was it. That sent you over the edge.

"Oh, sweet God, Lee! You're being a fucking asshole!" You stormed off into the nearby woods. The area in which old school supplies got dumped, also where Lee often took his smoke break.

"Me the asshole? You're the one actin' like a royal bitch right now!" Lee followed closely behind you.

That struck a nerve.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Lee stood before you, hands on his hips, mouth hanging awkwardly open and eyes wide. He stammered slightly shaking his head.

"Nothing," he threw his hands up doing a circle step.

"No- Go ahead, Russell. Since you want to be so brave, tell me what you said!"

"You're the one that called me an asshole," he mumbled.

"Because you are an asshole! That's all you've ever been and all you'll ever be! A self obsessed, egotistical asshole!" You grunted as you spun around, leaning your arm against a tree.

"Oh, now look whose name callin'!" Lee stomped.

"You act all sweet and friendly to the staff, then do everything in your power to stab them in the back. Laughing and jokin' at the lunch table, pretending to be one of them. Well you aren't! You're a fucking psychopath who loves to pull everyone down with him! You're a sicko with a power trip, Russell!"

Lee scoffed at you, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

"FUCK YOU, LEE RUSSELL!" You got into his face pointing at him.

Lee cocked his head to the side. His hands found both sides of your face, crashing his lips into yours. You were stunned and extremely aroused. You sunk into the kiss full force, your body melting into Lee's grasp.

"You've got a dirty mouth on you, Ms. L/N," Lee flashed a toothy grin at you.

"You have no idea," you chuckled to yourself.

"Fuck, me. I like the sound of that," he pressed his lips back into yours, backing you into the tree you had leaned on prior. You exchanged spit as your tongues tussled, sloppy kissing being shared. Lee's lips found their way to your neck, biting and sucking at it. "Don't be fucking greedy," you breathed out.

"I'll do whatever I want," he kissed your skin, biting down a little harder than before. A small moan escaped you feeling his teeth dance along your skin. You wanted him badly.

Lee pulled you away from the tree, escorting you over to the mattress on the ground. A little gross, but you could not care right now. "Let's hurry things along a little, I've got an evaluation in an hour," Lee helped you onto the mattress, crawling on top of you. A prominent tent pitched in his tight khakis. "You really know how to make a girl feel special, dontcha Russell?"

"Oh, shut up," Lee kissed your lips. He ran a hand down your body, sliding under your skirt, finding your clothed core. His fingers began making circles against your sensitive nub. Your hips jolted forward at the sudden friction. Your eyes shot up to him. "Did you think I was gonna be the only one getting off here?" Lee looked at you with a cocky grin. You ran both hands up his body, tugging him down by his tie.

"Fuck me, Lee," you fluttered your eyes at him.

"Don't have to ask me twice, sweetheart," Lee began pulling himself from his pants. You shimmied your panties down your legs, cool air hit your soaking core. Lee's eyes stared up your skirt, mouth hanging open admiring your sex. Your eyes finally caught his fully erect cock, his hand grasped around it stroking himself. Your face flushed. Lee got in position, lining himself up with your opening. He eased himself in, the tip stretching you first. Lee’s eyes stared down at yours, lust written all over his face.

He continued easing his way inside you, giving you time to adjust to him. He found himself fully inside you, both of you breathing loud and heavy. He stayed for a moment not ready to begin moving. He gently pulled himself back before aggressively thrusting back into you. A moan fell from you.

"Ah, fuck. Has a pussy this good seriously being hidin' from me this whole time?" Lee threw his head back as he continued thrusting into you. His cocked stretched you just right.

"Should've bent you over my desk by now. Fucked you in the teacher's lounge. Hell, I'll fuck you on my future Principal's desk," Lee grinned ear to ear.

"You mean my future desk," you scowled at him.

"Whatever gets you to let me keep fucking you," Lee leaned his head against you. He squinted his eyes savoring the feeling of you around him. He had not been fucked in a longtime, let alone by someone as good as you.

Lee's hips rocked into you consistently quick, your head rested back on the mattress. He felt extremely good inside you, even if that mouth of his was not doing him any favors. He leaned down placing a wet kiss on your lips, his hand creeping down your body and finding your sensitivity again. His name was a soft moan on your lips. You felt your orgasm inching through your body his fingers working absolute magic on you. You were breathless.

“I wanna cum in you, okay?” Lee whispered in your ear. You nodded aggressively. You knew you would unwind any minute now. Lee’s hips grew sloppy and unrhythmic as he began chasing his high. Praises flowed from him as he threw his head back, his fingers finally sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around him, a loud moan escaping you. Lee’s body fell flush with yours, his hips snapping into you. “Fuck, Y/N, you have the perfect pussy,” he moaned in your ear. Ropes of him shot inside you, his hips sputtering trying to get as deep inside you as possible. His lips pressed into yours hard. One of his hands cupped your cheek, Lee admired you, being tender with you for only a moment.

“Goddamn, Y/N! That was— Fuck, great,” Lee chuckled awkwardly trying to catch his breath. You ran your hand through Lee’s hair, his eyes softening for a moment. Lee pulled out of you hesitantly. Deep down he wished you could stay like this forever. He would never admit it publicly, but he really liked you. You both sighed. He rolled over to be on the mattress beside you.

You sat up, searching for your panties that had been discarded earlier. “Where’d my underwear go?”

Lee laughed. He patted his chest, “Don’t you worry about those, I’m sure you have plenty more at home.” Your whole body flushed with heat when you realized what he was saying.

“You’re seriously going to make me walk around the rest of the day with no underwear?” You half smiled at him.

“Goddamn right I am. Make sure every time you sit down you remember what happened out here,” Lee laughed, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You took it, he pulled you to your feet. Your chest was flush against his, you looked up at him. You pressed a kiss to his lips quickly. You saw a slight pink hue rise on his cheeks. Lee’s hands were on your hips, heavy brown eyes staring into yours. A faint smile painted his face.

The bell rang in the distance.

Lee’s eyes shot up to the school behind you. “Uh— Guess we outta get back to work,” he placed a tiny peck on your cheek. You smiled as he walked ahead of you, one of his hands reaching behind him for yours. You intertwined fingers with him, getting a satisfied look over his shoulder. He led you out of the trees, the field that was previously full of loud cheering students was now empty. No one was outside. At least, that’s what you thought. Lee spun around, planting another kiss on your lips. A goofy grin painting his face.

“RUSSELL!”

You both jumped slightly hearing Neal Gamby’s voice echoing through the air.

“Jesus Christ,” Lee sighed as he turned around to face him.

“What the fuck were you guys doing out there? You know we have to monitor the halls during class changes! Plus you guys forced me to have ‘small talk’ with Bitch Brown!” Gamby folded his arms over his chest.

“No need to get your nutsack twisted, Gamby. We just needed to plan out our next attack,” Lee flicked him in the shoulder walking past him to the school.

“I’m supposed to be involved in all conversations about this!” Gamby protested.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, following closely behind Lee. Turning to make a face at Gamby as you headed inside.

“You guys suck,” Gamby mumbled as he hustled to catch up with you.

You and Lee walked side by side inside the building, occasionally bumping into each other. Exchanging small smiles back and forth. Continuously grazing hands, longing to interlock fingers again.

Save that for another time.

~~~

[END]

~ Thank you for reading! This is my first time writing for Lee Russell so I hope you enjoyed it! I am currently on Episode 6(?) of Vice Principals and am absolutely obsessed. I will be more than happy to write more for Lee Russell if anyone has requests! If you want to be tagged in my future work let me know! ~

[TAGS]

@megangovier ~ @lacey-mercylercy ~ @dichromaniac ~ @toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @justme12200 ~ @aliisa-jones ~ @one-of-thewalkingdead ~ @madladysix ~

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 7

[Master List]

   “This ain’t some weird trick, right?” Miguel asked for the fifth time since Danny had showed them their new place. Both boys had been shocked into silence upon entering the space, eventually following Danny around to see their rooms and bathroom.

            Shaking his head, Danny swallowed his bite of pizza. “I bought the building with the intention of giving the apartments to people who needed them. You guys need a safe place to stay.”

            Miguel eyed him warily, glancing at Jazz who’d been mostly quiet since they’d arrived, knowing they were overwhelmed. “We can’t stay here without pullin’ our weight. Wha’s rent like?”

            Danny hummed, considering. Jazz looked at him in shock, thinking he was actually planning on charging the boys rent. Finally, Danny wiped his hands of the pizza grease, folded them on the table, and looked at both boys seriously. “Here’s the deal I’m proposing. You two live here until you’re at least eighteen AND,” He emphasized the word, so they knew he was serious. “have graduated from high school. That’s it. That’s the rent. You’ll be paying me back by getting an education.”

            “But tha’s ridiculous!” Santiago shouted, clearly torn between confusion and hope. “Nobody gives nothin’ out for free! It just ain’t done!”

            Sitting back, Danny contemplated what he’d need to say to help them understand his intentions. Jazz met his gaze and gave him a subtle nod, knowing what he was thinking about doing. “My parents,” Danny started. Jazz stood up, clearing away trash and dishes as he told a story neither wanted to relive. “didn’t pay me or my sister much attention.”

            That was a safe start right? He didn’t need to explain the whole ghost thing or that they tortured him, just a bit of background. “They forgot my seventh birthday, too caught up in work to be bothered and after that it wasn’t occasional forgetfulness. Most days they didn’t know where I was, what I was up to, how I was doing in school, who my friends were, because they were too busy to care.

            “That put a lot of responsibility on my shoulders and even more on my sister’s. She basically raised me.” He dipped his head in her direction as she put away the leftovers. “In my freshman year my grades began to suffer, and I struggled with really bad anxiety, but I didn’t have parents to help me with that, because they didn’t really know me as a person.”

            Taking in a deep breath, Miguel looked between the Nightingales. “What’s that gotta do with us, though?”

            “My sister, who spent her entire childhood taking care of everyone but herself,” He added with a smirk. “likes to remind me that I can’t help everyone, as much as I might try. But,” the two boys were watching him closely, absorbing his every word. “I can help some people. And I can help you. Don’t tell Jazz but I’m always trying to be more like her. And I think, if she had the resources I do, that she’d help you guys out.

            “Let me help a couple of siblings who don’t have parents looking out for them.” Danny pleaded. “Please.”

            Miguel and Santiago had a silent conversation, the air hung heavy in the room as they seemed to come to a decision. “A’ight man, you seem chill.” Miguel shrugged, the rest of the tension leaving his body. 

            It didn’t take long after that for the boys to start showing how tired they were. Jazz grabbed her stuff and headed out with a ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, brother’ thrown over her shoulder. Danny reminded the boys that he was across the hall and one door down and that if there was an emergency they could use their emergency key to get into his place. They’d seemed surprised by that, but Danny reminded them that he was, essentially, their guardian now, and he was there if they needed him.

            “Tomorrow I’ll come by around ten and we can go get you guys some school supplies and anything else you want or need, yeah?” Danny asked, moving towards the door.

            Miguel was pushing Santiago towards his room like a good older brother. “Sure, sounds good.”

            For the first time in a while, Danny got a full night of sleep. This was the shocking realization he came to when he awoke to his alarm and felt rested. The first thing he did was search his fridge for food- he was starving- and remembered Red Hood’s little gifts. The chicken parm had been pretty good, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home cooked meal, even if he did have to reheat it.

            Sticking the stew in a pot, Danny began the process of reheating another Red Hood MealTM and planned out the day mentally. They’d need to get some basic school supplies to start working on tutoring, they’d get more specific items when school actually started, but for now, calculators, notebooks, pens, pencils, and some workbooks would be fine.

            After that they’d need to get the boys each a phone and at least one computer for them to share. It would be necessary for school anyways, hopefully he could convince them to just let him buy them each a laptop but that might be difficult.

            Although it was Saturday, and he planned on Saturdays being tutoring days, Danny didn’t plan on working on any school stuff once they got home. They would certainly be overwhelmed by everything else going on and didn’t need one more thing to add to it. Plus, Danny needed to figure out exactly how to teach these kids everything they needed to know. 

            Had they ever gone to school? If so, what level had they gotten to? What were their learning styles? Who would he bring in to teach the subjects he sucked at? Like English- Danny was bad at the arts. English, Social sciences, even history, he wasn’t very good at. 

            Shaking his head, he dished out the stew and tried not to get caught up on the details. He was winging it, and maybe that was a bad thing when it came to kids, but it was better than what they’d had going on before, so he wouldn’t be too hard on himself.

            (Who was he kidding? Danny was only ever hard on himself, and he only ever piled the work on until he was buried under an avalanche of paperwork and drama.)

            The boy seemed almost surprised when he knocked on their door at ten AM sharp.

            “You have a key, y’know.” Santiago muttered, closing the door behind Danny.

            Danny frowned. “This is your home, Santiago. I’m not using my key unless there’s an emergency.” He offered a smile to Santiago’s contemplative face, before clapping his hands together. “All right, where’s that brother of yours?”

            The younger boy frowned. “He wasn’t feeling too good.” Right. Because stab wounds don’t heal quickly, not for normal people- Danny you can’t just forget things like that! “Said we should go without ‘im.” 

            “Well that won’t do.” Danny sighed. “We need to get those supplies, but I don’t want to go without Miguel, do you?” Santiago shook his head hesitantly. “Then it’s settled. We will simply order everything we need and when Miguel’s feeling better we can go out. Have you eaten yet?”

            Santiago shrugs, not meeting Danny’s eyes. So that’s a no. Without another word, Danny begins searching the fridge and cupboards for what he needed. He wasn’t much of a cook, there was a reason he hadn’t had a homemade meal in a long time, but he could do pancakes, and he knew he’d bought the ingredients for it too.

            The younger boy just watched, silently, as Danny began measuring out flour. 

            “So,” Danny started, immediately regretting it and feeling just as awkward as he was in high school. “I did my best to get you guys the necessities. I don’t want to overwhelm you, but when I say that you can ask for anything, I mean anything.” He emphasized his words by looking Santiago directly in the eye until the boy looked away. “If you want a TV, tools for a hobby, books, literally anything, you just have to ask.”

            The boy licked his lips, still not making eye contact but at least he nodded. They’d work on it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?

            Danny tried again. “What do you do for fun, Santiago?”

            The boy shrugged again, leaning against the counter and watching Danny closely.

            “So you… want to help me?” He asked, hesitantly, maybe he was reading the boy wrong. But before he could rescind the offer or change the subject, the boy nodded slowly, moving closer to Danny. “Okay, first things first, you gotta wash your hands.”

            The morning was filled with the smell of fresh pancakes and the quiet conversation between Danny and Santiago. At one point Miguel ventured out of his room and Danny gave him a stack of pancakes, drawing him into the conversation. Early afternoon Miguel moved from the living room back to his room to take a nap but not before Danny could change his bandages. There was something incredibly domestic about it. Danny didn’t think too hard about it.

            He let Santiago help him pick out some school supplies online as well as a phone case and anything else that caught his eye- including a TV which Santiago assured him he ‘didn’t need especially because it had been three years since he’d seen a movie so what was even the point?’ which Danny thought was code for ‘a television is an absolute necessity’. 

He bought the TV. 

~~~

            The rest of the weekend was spent making sure the boys felt comfortable and Miguel was healing well. He made an appointment with Dr. Thompkins for the following Saturday to check up on the boy and maybe get his stitches out depending on how everything was looking- Danny wasn’t a great judge of such things on humans anymore. 

            He’d pushed his own organs back inside himself, held his chest closed, snapped bones back into place-

            Humans were fragile.

            He was somewhat grateful he wasn’t that fragile anymore- though he was sporting a rather purple bruise under his left eye from yet another power nap. (He’d thought those were gone after his restful Friday night but apparently not.) It was fine, the bruise would be gone within a day or so and he’d be more careful to take his power naps on sleeping surfaces instead of while standing.

            Miguel had insisted they’d be fine; that Danny didn’t need to take another day off of work to watch over them, and Danny (who’d promised not to act like their parent) had agreed. Still, he left a clone in his apartment to be there in case of an emergency. 

Anxiety was a feeling Danny was familiar with, after much introspection in his adult life he’d come to the conclusion that he’d had anxiety since he was seven, but anxiety relating to children he was responsible for on this level was new, and terrifying. Of course he’d felt responsible for all of the people in Amity Park, and all of the ghosts he came across, but never had he been so completely responsible for the safety of two children who had no one else to depend on. 

 How he got into this situation escaped him. He’d never cared much for kids- Jazz said him not wanting kids was because he’d never been allowed to be a kid in the first place- and yet, here he was, with a daycare, four cats, and now two teenagers dependent on him. 

Ancients help him…

When he got to the daycare there were already two families waiting outside to drop their kids off- should he open earlier? Quickly, he unlocked the doors, turned the power on, and signed the kids in for the day. He had a couple of hours before Mia showed up (and Ember had already told him she wouldn’t be coming in for a few days) so he cloned himself to entertain Clara, Maru, and Benji while he looked over paperwork.

It never ended.

There was a steady increase in kids, Danny had to get rid of his clone every time someone new showed up and then reclone himself after they left, and by the time Mia arrived he was managing fourteen kids by himself. Sort of. Obviously, with clones, he was fine albeit a little tired, but once Mia showed up it was just the two of them.

Nap time couldn’t come soon enough.

“They’re all out cold.” Mia whispered, closing the door to the nap room. “You look like you also need a nap.”

He dropped an armful of toys into the toy bin and sighed. “A nap sounds good but I can’t. I need to finally finish setting up the website for this place so we can hopefully start getting applications online.” He paused, feeling Mia’s concerned gaze on his back. “I want to extend the hours of this place.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. Two families were waiting at the door this morning because we didn't open early enough for their needs.” He rubbed a tired hand across his brow and leaned against the nearest desk. “So… I need to hire some more people to maintain not only the hours we already have that are abysmally understaffed, but to open earlier. I haven’t been able to accept any new families recently either, we just can’t safely take care of anymore kids without more staff.”

Mia pursed her lips. “School’s just about out. I’ll be graduating and looking to work a bit more. I was going to bring it up anyways, but I’d like to work full time.”

He nodded, pulling out his phone to order food. “I can do that. You want to work earlier or later? And what do you want for lunch?”

“Earlier is better, Mama and I switch off cooking dinner so I don’t want to be home too late. What are you thinking? Thai kind of sounds good.” Mia took her usual spot in a bean bag towards the entrance of the room and pulled out the monitor set up to watch the kids.

Before Danny could respond, the bell rang. He and Mia shared looks, no one ever showed up in the middle of the day- not unless it was a last minute emergency. Mia made to move but Danny shook his head, and set his phone down. Someone needed to watch the kids while he saw who had shown up so late.

What he’d expected was a frazzled parent with a child, hoping to leave them here for a few hours because their babysitter had fallen through or they got called into work or some other reason most parents had.

What he did not expect to see was the very tall, very well built, Red Hood, holding a tupperware container. Before he could get a word out- which he wasn’t sure wouldn’t have simply been some kind of ‘wha?’ Red Hood tilted his head.

“Do you not eat or something?”

“Huh?”

Hood offered the food container. “Cause I’ve left you food a few times now and every time the old stuff is still there. If you think it’s poisoned I can take a bite first to prove it’s not.”

Danny’s jaw hung open, face screwed up in confusion, not really knowing what he was supposed to say. “Uh… I’ve been busy…” He took the container trying to ignore the stupid flutter in his stomach when their fingers brushed and noted how warm it was. “I had the chicken parmesan the other day and… uh the stew as well. They were really good- why are you leaving me food?”

The vigilante shrugged, hands on hips (which Danny tried very hard not to look at). “Think of it as a thank you for-” He glanced at the closed door. “What you did when we met. If you told people it was you I wouldn’t be the only person thanking you.”

Shaking his head, Danny set the container down. “You- YOU are thanking me for kill-” He looked at the door again. “For what happened?”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

Why’d he say it like that? Why’d he say it like that? “You- I-” Danny shut his mouth before he could accidentally reveal he’s the King of the Infinite Realms and that he had always wanted to meet the Red Hood to thank HIM. “No reason. Uh… well, you don’t have to do that, you know, if you don’t want to. I mean- it’s really good though! I appreciate it!”

A thought occurred to him. “How did you know I worked here?”

It was difficult to tell exactly what expression Hood was making sometimes, but he was pretty sure the bastard was smirking as he turned away and pushed the door open, pausing in the entrance. “It’s my job to find people of interest- and you are certainly a person of interest.”

Danny might have died again just a little bit.

~~~

  Miguel POV

It had been a week since he and Santi had moved into the apartment Danny had provided for them. A week since he’d been stabbed. Doc Thompkins had said he was healing well at the check up he’d had the night prior and he felt like he was. The first few days had been… frustrating. He’d moved into an entirely new place and instead of being able to assess the situation, search for threats, create escape plans, he’d been stuck in bed, eating homemade pancakes and taking washcloth baths.

Danny was… strange. He came over at least once a day, usually after work because he left so early in the mornings, and cooked a meal. Again, usually dinner because he came over in the evenings, but twice he’d come over, cooked dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and then cooked a meal for breakfast the following day before cleaning the kitchen again.

He asked about their days, what they needed, what they wanted, and didn’t act like their dad. It was refreshing and surprising but not once did Danny scold them, lay down ground rules, or try to tell them what to do. He acted like a friend.

Miguel hadn’t had a friend in a long time.

So on Friday night when Danny came over to make dinner and asked if Miguel felt well enough to go shopping the following day, he’d agreed. Well, he’d argued a bit- they didn’t need anything else Danny had given them more than he’d ever be able to repay! But the man was insistent that they needed more clothes and he wanted them to pick them out so he knew they actually liked them.

That’s how he found himself in a clothing store in the diamond district feeling wildly out of place trying on dozens of items of clothing. 

“How about this one?” Danny held a shirt up to Santiago who examined it closely, felt it between his fingers, grimaced, and shook his head cautiously. “Got it, no polyester.” Danny put it back and moved on. 

Miguel caught the incredulous look Santi sent his way and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Their father had been an angry man, one who didn’t take no for an answer and thought Santiago was trying to be difficult when he ‘acted special’. To say Miguel and Santiago were surprised that Danny accepted the no and moved on without any hint of anger was an understatement.

Danny held up a different shirt. “This one’s one hundred percent cotton.” Santi reached out carefully, felt the fabric, and nodded, a shy smile forcing its way onto his face. His brother pretended to be tough because that’s what the streets demanded from all who lived on them, but he’d always been a softy with a big brain and a bigger heart. If Miguel had been hesitant to accept Danny’s offer about school it had dissipated the second he thought of what it would mean for his brother’s future.

“I hope you’re finding some things for yourself, Miguel.” Danny teased.

Scoffing, Miguel held up the three shirts and two sweaters he’d picked out. “I know how to shop for clothes, Danny.”

Danny looked Miguel’s way with a retort clearly on the tip of his tongue, but his eyes were pulled away from Miguel and locked on someone else. “Damian?” He called, waving to someone a few aisles away.

Following the direction of Danny’s eyes, Miguel saw a boy about his age standing across the store. He wore a serious expression, not quite a scowl but close, and said something to the man next to him who was much older than the person Miguel thought was Damian. The pair made their way closer much to the boy’s disapproval.

Danny set down the clothes he’d been showing Santiago, and moved out of the aisles to greet Damian. “I thought that was you! Nice to see you again. I was actually going to let you know that Curiosity’s finished his meds and has made a full recovery!”

Ah. Danny had shown Miguel and Santiago his cats earlier in the week and mentioned that someone had been giving him advice on how to take care of them, especially the sick one. So this kid had been the one helping Danny?

“I’m glad I was able to be of assistance. The cats seem to be in good hands.” The boy dipped his head.

The older man gasped. “Why Dami- that was almost a compliment!” By the sound of his teasing, they were brothers. “I don’t know how you did it, but I think Damian might actually like you. My name’s Dick, by the way, pleasure to meet you.”

“On purpose?!” 

The group turned to Santiago who was still watching the entire encounter from where he’d been looking at shirts. His brother’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d said and that he’d practically insulted a complete stranger based on their name. Luckily, Dick offered a smile and Danny laughed.

“Yes, on purpose.”

Danny held out his hand which Dick shook. “Danny Nightingale, Damian’s told me about you, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Dick’s eyes widened. “You told your friend about me?” 

“Tt. Relax Grayson, I simply mentioned you in passing. I didn’t think Nightingale would latch onto such information.”

Miguel exhaled quickly, suppressing a chuckle, but it was too late, he’d been noticed.

“Oh right! This is Miguel and Santiago.” Danny pointed at each of them and smiled. Miguel wished this encounter would be over. He didn’t enjoy meeting new people, it made his skin itch and his mouth dry out. As much as he disliked shopping for clothes and Danny spending way too much money on him, he disliked meeting new people even more. Danny seemed to sense this and did his best to finish things up. “We were just finishing up some clothes shopping before working on some stuff at home.”

Damian, sensing the dismissal, nodded once. “It was nice to see you again, Nightingale, do message me if you have any more animal related questions.” He grabbed Dick’s arm and began pulling him away, Dick grumbling about wanting to get to know Danny more as they left and Miguel released a sigh.

“Sorry guys.” Danny apologized. “Let’s finish up and get food on the way home, yeah?”

~~~

When they got home Miguel and Santiago put their bags in their rooms and joined Danny in the kitchen. He looked… exhausted. To be fair, they all did, but Danny hadn’t been homeless or recently stabbed (as far as Miguel was aware) so he didn’t really have a great excuse. Before he could say anything, Danny clapped his hands together.

“So I’m thinking while we eat lunch we can touch on some school stuff just for a bit, and then we can all relax.” Santiago straightened up a bit, some of the exhaustion disappearing from his face and Miguel couldn’t help but smile. As the boys grabbed their boxes of takeout Danny grabbed them drinks. He’d already learned that Miguel liked coke and Santiago liked grape juice and had continued to supply them both with it.

“I don’ know how you’re gonna catch us up on three years of schoolin’.” Miguel said honestly, Santiago’s shoulders drooped slightly.

Danny took a bite of his food and considered what Miguel said. That was something about him Miguel liked a lot. He always seemed to think before speaking- at least, when it was something important.

“Well I’m really good at math and science so I should be able to figure out a good way to catch you guys up, it’s the arts we have to worry about. English, history, that kind of thing. Now, tests suck, I know.” He took a sip of his coffee- he drank way too much of that stuff. “But I want you each to take a few placement tests so I can understand where you’re going to be starting. Then I’ll put together a plan to get you back to the levels you would be at before the entrance exams at Gotham Academy.”

Miguel groaned. “Man tests suck.”

“I know.” Danny assured. “But these aren’t graded. I don’t care how well you do, I want to know what you don’t know so I can help you learn it. This is a judgment free zone- always.” He looked at the two seriously, Miguel’s skin itched. “I’ll just have you take two today, how's that? And you can do the other two tomorrow while I plan around the ones you take today?”

That seemed fair. He thought it seemed fair. While taking the placement tests he wasn’t so sure anymore. His brain hurt almost immediately and he wondered why he was really doing this. He wasn’t going to pass high school, he’d never been very smart and when Danny realized he wasn’t smart enough to get a good job he’d just be back on the streets again. 

His brother let out a happy sound as he solved one of the science problems and moved onto the next one. 

Taking a deep breath, Miguel remembered why he was doing this. Just because he’d fail out and end up back on the streets didn’t mean his brother had to. His brother was smart, smarter than him, and he’d be damned if he held Santi back from getting into Gotham University someday.

He could do this. For Santi, he thought he could do anything.

Prev. Next

[coleskingdom]

Want Me To Prove It

Will Ospreay x F Reader

Minors DNI NSFW

@midwestmade29

The tension between Will and I could be cut with a knife, the cat and mouse game had been fun, but I had made one snide remark and now I regretted ever saying it. The two of us had toyed with each other for weeks, the innuendos, then he had held a candy bar out of my reach, and the words that now haunted me when I said “ I don’t beg” his eyes flashed at the words, and a new game had begun.

“What do you mean we are sharing a room?” As he handed me a room key. “Why are you so nervous?” as he took my bag off my shoulder grazing my my arm as he did leading us towards the elevator. “ I’m not nervous just irritated, I don’t like sharing “ he stood behind me as he leaned in “Good neither do I” his low whisper felt on my neck I involuntarily shivered at his words.

I walked towards the room using the key to let us in. “ One bed seriously Will it’s one thing for us to be in a room together, but the same bed.” my eyes on his, “You’ve been in my bed before love, are you afraid I’m going to be a bit of naughty boy.” his grin made me weak in the knees. “ You’re not wrong but we’d watch a movie and then I’d go back to my room.” putting my phone down. “ Yeah and what would you do when you’d get back to your room?” his eyes on me, “Sleep Will, I’d go to sleep.” frustration and irritation in my voice, if he’d only knew the things I did and thoughts I had about him. Looking at him now though he looked as if he was reading my mind. “Y/N it’s one night, I’m just giving you a hard time, I’ll be a proper gentleman. I’m just giving you shit. I’m sorry if I took it too far.” his voice softer. “You’re fine, it’s me, I’m stressed and it’s been a rough day. It’s not your fault, I’m going to shower and get ready for bed.” reaching for my bag. “You haven’t eaten all day, I’ll order food, go shower, by the time you’re done. Food will be here and we can watch whatever you want.” he was always looking after me, but to be fair I was always looking after him as well.

I took a long shower psyching myself up that I was perfectly capable of sleeping next to that perfect man without it being an issue. He’s my friend, if I’m honest he’s my person. I put on my shorts and my favorite T-shirt, my hair in a messy bun my stomach in knots.

I opened the door, and there he was shirtless, and in those damn gray sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination. He brought in the food, and set it on the table, turning he sees me staring at him. “See something you want?” leaving the food and walking towards me my back against the wall.

“ I bet I can make you beg” Will’s eyes scanning me, my focus on his lips, where he’s peeking his tongue out a little bit.

“I don’t beg” my voice portraying confidence my body doesn’t feel as he leans in his elbows enclosing me against the wall

“ Want me to prove it then” his words were my undoing as he leans into kiss me, his lips softer than I had imagined. He pulls back slightly to see if he’s misread the situation. I close the last inch parting our lips, teasing his tongue for a second before he seizes control, dominating the moment the way he always does.Tasting, sucking, nipping, devouring me. "You think I'll get right into it, don't you?" he humorously hums in my mouth. "Love.. I haven't even started yet. You've no idea what you're getting into with me. I'll make you beg for more even while you're coming undone.”He nudges my chin with his nose, hot lips latching onto the delicate skin of my throat, sucking, pecking, biting between words. My mind focuses on him, every sense starved for his words and touch..

“Will, please" my eyes find his, “Please what? Tell me and I’ll give you what you need.”his mouth on my neck still, “ I want you, I need you, I b….” His hands move so fast that I’m naked and on the bed with him over me my hands on the waist band of the sweatpants tugging them down , he manages to kick them the rest of the way off.

"What do you taste like?" he muses.The question isn't aimed at me. More like he's voicing his own thoughts, twirling his tongue over my pebbled nipple. He toys the other between his fingers, pinching, rolling, and driving me wild.

Satisfied with my hips arching off the mattress, pleading for more, he grips my thighs, pushes my legs back, then rests my ankles over his shoulders. The first tiny kiss to my mound forces the air from my lungs.

"You're trouble," I sigh. "Stop teasing." “Teasing is the best part, sweet girl”

Spreading me with his thumbs, he licks me slowly, bottom to top, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over my clit. And then he sucks. Hard. The move lights up my body and my thighs quiver in time with a surprised gasp.”You taste like mine." I grasp his hair, forcing him back down, and feel him smile against me.

"Greedy... needy... pretty little thing." He punctuates every word with a thorough lick, and then... the show begins.

"Oh my," I mewl, fisting his hair.

"Will.” He doesn't respond with words.Instead, he slides one finger inside, timing the thrusts with the flicks of his tongue. He doesn't let me come when the orgasm looms close by. He eases off, kissing and biting my inner thigh as his hands knead my hips. He does it again but this time “ Sweet girl look at me, tell me how much you want to come.” eyes. “ Will please let me come.”His head drops down, torturing my clit with his tongue. I'm so ready for the orgasm it's mere seconds before it hits. I'm vaguely aware I've clamped my thighs around his head, holding him hostage as he licks me through the release.

"I've got you, love."He's suddenly closer, higher, his arms flush to my sides. He kisses me as in one long, slow thrust almost has me coming again. He drives himself home, letting out a low growl that forces my body into high alert.

"Fuck," he breathes, pressing his lips to my forehead. "So wet. So tight... so fucking mine.”His movements are slow, caring,tender. So slow so thorough that I feel every inch of him. His grip on my waist is nothing short of possessive. His thrusts calculated to drive me crazy. His light eyes filled with emotion, the pace is not frantic or mindless. Like with everything he does it builds to the moment every nibbling, biting kiss, every time he sinks into me, every push meticulous...as I come hard, tears fall from my eyes as I understand everything so clearly. Not changing the pace one bit as he drives himself home over again. The weight of his big body pinning me to the mattress magnifies how erotic this feels. How close we are. I feel him come inside me, the groan the restraint, the little moan as he buries his head in the crook of my neck.

My arms wraparound him keeping him there, for this moment it all makes perfect sense. I’m afraid of what I’ll see when the moment is over. “Darling“as he turns his head into the side of my neck. “Yeah” my words not knowing what’s coming next. He rolls off of me , laying on his side, “ hey look at me, you don’t get to hide from me. If we need to talk let’s talk.” His hand brushing my cheek “ what if? “ I began “ What if what?” his tone gentle “ What if all of this just made perfect fucking sense, and I don’t know if I can go back to how we were before?” I hear him let out his breath as I close my eyes realizing the absolute truth and vulnerability in my words. “Darling please open your eyes. Look at me, I don’t want to go back.”

[katethetank]

The Dungeon - Chapter 6

Rating: 18+, minors gtfo Chapter Summary: They boys have their second date, Eddie learns more about The Party, things start to get a little heated CW: Discussions about coming out, smooching, just a smidge of dry humping Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, slow burn, smut Word Count: 4.5k

Chapter 5<<Masterlist>>Chapter 7

The next few weeks managed to fly by. Steve has been texting, or calling, or FaceTiming with Eddie practically every day. When he sent him his address for the date, he wasn’t at all expecting gifts to arrive. He had a particularly hard day at work and when he texted Eddie that he was too exhausted to make himself dinner, he was beyond shocked when he heard a knock on his door and opened it to find an Uber Eats guy standing there with takeout from the Thai place in his neighborhood.

He also got a Muppets postcard in the mail from Greenville, MS - birthplace of Jim Henson - with a note from Eddie saying “Can’t wait to have my own Rainbow Connection with you soon! Are any of the muppets gay? I bet Animal is pan. Janice is definitely a lesbian, and Gonzo is some flavor of queer. See you soon sweetheart! xoxo E.M.”

Then he got a delivery of like, 4 dozen donuts with a note to share them with the kids at the center. He will neither confirm nor deny if that made him burst into tears.

Robin has been super supportive, but the kids have been relentless. After his first date with Eddie, their group text had blown up. 

Dustybuns: STEVE are you gonna tell us anything? Don’t you love us anymore?

🏀Lucas🏀: Yeah what’s going on man? Did you totally blow it?

Mad Max: I bet he blew something 👀

Mike Fucking Wheeler: Dude gross, don’t put that image in my head!

😇 El 😇: Why are you imaging that Micheal?

Mad Max: 💀

🧙Will the Wise🧙: Come on Steve, give us something! We’re dying here!

Mad Max: Is Eddie gonna be our new dad?

Assholes.

Between work, talking to Eddie, and dodging the kids, Steve has been trying to plan the perfect second date. Food has been kind of a love language for him. He wants to show off a bit, but also make something that’s a crowd-pleaser. He had a movie night with Robin recently where they had their eureka moment. 

They were cuddled up on his couch watching Chef for the gazillionth time. It got to the scene where Jon Favreau was cooking for Scarlette Johanssen and they both shot up at the same time shouting, “Sexy Pasta!!!” They’ve made it before together, in a much less sexy way, and it’s become one of their favorite meals.

Once the food was figured out, they made their way to his closet to dissect his entire wardrobe. He needed something comfortable for an at-home date, but sexy enough to highlight his best features. They landed on a pair of dark jeans that were flattering in all the right places and really hugged his ass because it’s your best feature besides your hair, Steve! You gotta show that thing off! They paired that with a plain white undershirt and a short sleeve light wash denim shirt. It kinda had a classic greaser vibe, and really made his arms look nice.

Cut to now, where Steve is in his kitchen, cooking up a storm. He spent the day making sure his apartment was company-ready. Vacuuming, dusting, cleaning every window in the place, scrubbing the toilet, he even made a dessert for later: Oreo brownies. It’s something he’s made for the kids for years and they always beg him to make it for their birthdays. Dutch chocolate brownie batter, with chopped Oreos mixed in, and he tops it with cookies and cream buttercream, more chopped Oreos, and a chocolate ganache drizzle. It’s fucking good.

He’s got an arugula salad on the table ready to go with a lemon vinaigrette. Lights dimmed. Candles lit. Garlic bread prepped. Lemon herb chicken roasting in the oven. Pot of salted water almost ready to boil. A pool of olive oil ready in a pan on the stove. Like twenty garlic cloves thinly sliced. A pile of freshly chopped parsley. Red pepper flakes and sliced lemons next to the pan. All of the prep has helped keep his nerves at bay.

Then, there’s a knock at the door. 

He takes a steadying breath and makes his way over. All of the calls, all of the texts, all of the flirting and planning couldn’t prepare him for what waits on the other side. There stands Eddie, wearing tight black jeans, Chelsea boots, a blood red button down with half of the buttons undone to show off his tattoos. He’s holding his hands behind his back, but Steve can see he’s got his sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his slutty forearms. Hair tied up and wavy tendrils framing his face. His beautiful face that has the most stunning smile and dimples for miles.

“Eddie.”

“Hi Stevie.” Eddie brings his hands out from behind him, and he’s holding a bouquet of huge sunflowers. “It’s so good to see you sweetheart.”

He hands over the flowers and Steve is stunned speechless. He wordlessly takes them and steps aside gesturing Eddie in. He closes the door behind him while Eddie slowly spins in a circle taking in his space. 

“Nice place you got here Stevie. It’s really cute. Very…you. Are the flowers ok? I didn’t go overboard, did I?”

Steve’s brain finally comes back online. “They’re gorgeous! Nobody’s ever given me flowers before…I love them.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles. “It’s the least I could do. I wanted to get you something, and I wasn’t sure what kind you liked. These reminded me of you.”

“That’s really sweet. Thank you, Eddie. Come on in! Let me get these into some water, and I can finish cooking.”

Eddie follows him into the kitchen, his head on a swivel taking in his surroundings. Steve doesn’t have any vases, because ya know, he’s never been given flowers before. But he fishes out a glass pitcher from his cabinet that he usually uses for margaritas, fills it with water and settles the flowers inside. He’s all smiles as he carries them to the table to join the candles. It’s the perfect addition.

“It smells amazing in here. Whatcha got cookin’ good lookin’?”

“Oh my god, no. That was ridiculous!”

“What!” Eddie laughs. “That wasn’t that bad! I’ve definitely said worse. Besides, it’s not just a line. You look amazing.”

Steve scoffs. “Me? What about you! I feel like a schlub when you show up looking like that!” 

“Oh, this old thing? I only wear it when I don’t care how I look!”

Narrowing his eyes, he asks, “Did you just quote It’s a Wonderful Life at me?”

“Goddamn…handsome, funny, sweet, and he gets 1940’s movie references? What can’t he do?!”

“Cook dinner while you distract me with your flirting! Now take a seat and let me work my magic. There’s some sparkling cider on the table, help yourself while I finish this up.”

Eddie dutifully settles himself in a chair and pours himself a glass while Steve gets the pan heating up. They make small talk while he slowly sautées the garlic and drops the spaghetti into the boiling water. The chicken is ready to pull out and rest, and he pops the garlic bread into the oven. Red pepper flakes join the garlic, and the pasta is drained. He adds that to the pan with a sprinkle of salt, the mound of fresh parsley, and squeezes the lemon over the top. It’s when he’s tossing the pasta in the pan that he realizes Eddie’s gone quiet. He looks over his shoulder to find the man dreamily staring at him. Sexy pasta indeed. Thank you Jon Favreau. 

“You ok over there?”

Eddie seems to snap out of it and replies, “Never been better! It’s kind of mesmerizing watching you. Other than Wayne, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone cook for me like this.”

“Well, it’s my pleasure. I really like making food for people. There’s something therapeutic about it I guess? It’s really satisfying taking all these pieces and putting them together into something that everyone can enjoy.”

Eddie’s all dimpled smiles as he talks. “Well I feel bad just sitting here. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Um…Yeah, you wanna cut up the garlic bread?”

Steve pulls it out of the oven as Eddie gets up and makes his way over. Steve hands him a cutting board and bread knife. Eddie gets to work and Steve pulls out a couple plates from the cabinet and starts dishing up the chicken and pasta. He carries the plates over to the table and Eddie follows with the garlic bread. They settle into their seats across the table from each other and Steve is delighted to see that Eddie already poured him a glass of sparkling cider.

“Stevie darling, this looks amazing.” He picks up his glass and holds it out.

Steve copies the motion and before they clink their glasses Eddie toasts, “To another perfect date. And hopefully many more.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Steve whispers as they both take a sip.

Their meal is devoured as they catch up on the little they haven’t already discussed over calls and texts in their time apart. Eddie devours everything, but has a special appreciation for the pasta. The moans he lets out are enough to make Steve squirm in his seat. 

“Stevie, I don’t know what kind of witchcraft you worked in that kitchen, but I am grateful. That’s the best meal I’ve had in a long goddamn time.”

They’re holding hands across the table again, eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “I’m really glad you liked it. It’s one of my favorite dishes. Something Robin and I make together all the time.”

“Well I’m honored that you shared it with me. Everything was perfect. The only thing that will make it better, is if you let me clean up.”

Appalled, Steve tells him, “Absolutely not! This is my mess, I’ll clean it up!”

“Nope. Wayne and I had a deal when I used to live with him. A little rule called ‘I cook, you clean.’ Makes things equal.”

“Yeah, well, Wayne’s not here is he? So that rule doesn’t apply!”

Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Oh, do you want me to call him and invite him over? Have him give you one of his stern talking-to’s?”

“Oh my god no! Stop! Fine, you can help clean up. But I’m doing it with you!”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “And here I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

“Get out. That was the worst one yet.”

Eddie cackles as he stands and takes their plates. They get the kitchen cleaned up pretty quickly, four hands working better than two, and Steve leads them into the living room. Eddie’s attention is drawn to a picture on the wall of Steve and The Party at their high school graduation.

“Alright, I’ve heard a bit about these troublemakers, now I need you to tell me who’s who.”

Steve smiles like a proud mom (yeah ok, he’s the mom, fine) and starts to point them out. “This is Dustin. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother and a total pain in my ass. Super smart, and he knows it too, which gives him a huge ego. But he’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known.

“And this guy is Lucas. He’s the only one of The Party who has any interest in sports. When he was in high school I helped him train to get on the basketball team. Made varsity his Sophomore year!”

Steve can see the lack of understanding on Eddie’s face.

“That’s a good thing. Really good. He’s a great athlete and helps out sometimes when I’m coaching at the center.

“The red head here is Max. She and Lucas met in middle school, started dating seriously in high school and they’re pretty much inseparable. She comes off as a hardass but goes pretty soft for Lucas. And only him. Honestly, she can scare the shit out of me sometimes. But she’s like a little sister to me. She had this step brother who was a total asshole. Real pompous dickhead, and a fucking racist to boot. When he found out they were dating he lost it. Thankfully I was there to step in. Took a plate to the head, but it was worth it to keep them safe.”

Eddie, looking horrified, asks, “Did you just say ‘plate to the head’? Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. He was a total psycho. Got the reminder of it right here.” Steve lifts up his hair right by his temple where the scar is.

Eddie reaches out to run his finger along the mark. “You’re fucking unbelievable Steve. Of course they call you ‘mom’ with how you protect them.”

“Yeah, well…they’re a pretty great group of kids. This one here? That’s Will. He’s an amazing artist. He actually did all the walls at The Dungeon! I’m not really into the game they play, but I gotta say, it looks incredible. He did a really good job.”

“Woah, wait a second! He did all that? When I was looking for a coffee shop I saw it online and the pictures of the interior is what drew me into that place. It looked like a D&D game come to life, or a fucking tavern out of Tolkien novel.”

Nodding his head Steve replies, “Yeah, that’s all Will! It took him weeks to get it all done. I’m so fucking proud of him. He helps out sometimes at the center too. Does art projects with preschool kids, or sits in with Rainbow Connection. He really struggled before he came out in high school. Was totally withdrawn and just a shell of who he was. When he finally found the bravery to tell The Party that he was gay, it was like the light inside him turned back on again. They were all super supportive.

“He was the one who actually made me realize I didn’t need to hide anything. I came out as bi not too long after, and stood by him when he told his family. His mom, Joyce, she’s the best. She had him wrapped up in a hug before he could even finish talking! And his step dad Jim is this strong silent type, right? Big guy, retired cop. He had tears in his eyes and told him that no matter what, he’ll always be there for him…”

Steve’s eyes are starting to water and he attempts to sniffle it back in. Joyce and Hop have been such strong allies for him and Will. They basically unofficially adopted him when they figured out how absent his own parents were. 

A strong hand rubs circles on his back. “You ok there Stevie?”

Steve’s shining eyes meet Eddie’s and he smiles and nods, “Yeah. Yeah I’m ok.”

“What about the other rugrats? That’s the one I saw snapping at you that first day, right?” Eddie asks while pointing to a scowling Mike Wheeler.

“Ha! Yeah, that’s Mike. He’s a little shit. I used to date his sister Nancy in high school and he never forgave me. Takes any opportunity he can to roast me. He’s a good kid though. Smart, creative, fiercely protective of The Party. And he’s dating El, this one here. She’s actually Jim’s adopted daughter and Will’s step sister. She’s a fucking angel. So sweet and empathetic. She really balances him out.”

“Damn honey, seems like you got yourself a nice little family here.”

Steve smiles wide. “I do. I really, really do…So! Movie! What do you wanna watch?”

He leads Eddie over to his dvd collection and lets him peruse the options. He became a bit of a movie buff when he was working at the video rental place with Robin years ago and swears by keeping discs instead of just streaming everything. You never know when Netflix or whoever are going to drop a title.

“Nice selection you got here! I haven’t even heard of some of these. What’s…Velvet Goldmine?”

Steve gasps. “Have you never seen it before?! It’s a queer cult classic! Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Christian Bale, Ewan McGregor-“

“SOLD! Put it on!”

Steve laughs as he pulls the case out and sets up the movie. “And here I was, ready to convince you by saying that you get to see Ewan McGregor dance around naked covered in glitter.”

“You’re not messing with me, are you? Don’t joke about something like that.”

Steve puts his hand on his chest and says, “I would never.”

They settle themselves on opposite ends on the couch  and start the movie. Steve is nervously tapping his foot and keeps stealing glances at Eddie. His beautiful profile lit up by the light from the tv. “You um…you can sit closer if you want.”

Eddie’s attention turns to Steve and he quietly says, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. You said you wanted to take things slow, so I’m trying to make good on my promise of being a gentleman.”

He can feel his cheeks flush. “I appreciate that Eds. But it’s ok. Get over here.”

They both scoot over and meet in the middle, thighs and shoulders touching. Eddie lifts his arm and drapes it over the back of the couch. “Is this ok?”

Eddie’s just a little taller than him, and he feels small when he looks up at him, tucked under his arm. “More than ok.”

They share a small smile and turn their attention back to the movie. As they get more comfortable in each other's proximity they begin to relax more. Steve leans into Eddie’s side and rests his hand on his knee. Eddie’s arm falls from the back of the couch and settles around his shoulders. His ringed fingers rubbing small circles on his arm. It feels so nice. It feels right.

About halfway through the movie Steve remembers that his brownies are waiting on the kitchen counter. He reaches for the remote and presses pause. “I totally forgot I made us dessert! Do you want some?”

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Stevie, you spoil me! I’d love some.”

He gets up, plates two big squares, and brings them back to the living room. He hands Eddie his plate and starts the movie back up again.

“Sweetheart this looks insane. What did you make?”

“Oreo brownies. They’re a hit with the kids, they have me make it for all of their birthdays. Thought it would be good for tonight.”

Eddie scoops up a forkful and eagerly takes a bite. The moan that leaves his mouth is doing things for Steve. “Holy shit, this is amazing! You made this??”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Honey, I love it. This is so fucking good I could lick the plate clean.”

That doesn’t help the desire forming in Steve’s gut, imagining Eddie’s tongue licking other things. 

Down boy.

They finish their brownies, set the plates on the coffee table, and settle back into their previous position. Eddie’s arm feels like it’s at home wrapped around him. Steve’s heart swells and he can’t help but think I could get used to this. It’s a dangerous thought and he has to remind himself that he’s taking this slow for a reason. Eddie has been nothing but wonderful this whole time, but he’s not quite ready to let his guard down yet.

The movie comes to a close and Steve turns to Eddie to ask, “So, what did you think? Super weird right? Kind of an acquired taste I guess, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh absolutely, it was weird as fuck, but that’s what I loved about it. Totally unconventional, and the music choices were-“ he lifts his hand to his mouth and does a dramatic chef kiss. “This has been a really great night Stevie. Thank you.”

“Of course Eds, I’m glad you’ve had a good time. I’m…I’m glad you’re here.”

They’re both quiet as they take each other in. The dim lighting of the living room casting shadows along their faces. The light from the tv making Eddie’s eyes sparkle. They keep glancing down at each other’s lips and Steve can feel his heart beating in his ears. He wants nothing more than for Eddie to lean in, but true to his word, he’s being a gentleman and not making any move.

Steve takes a deep breath and just above a whisper he says, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Eddie whispers back.

“Will you kiss me?”

Those dimples of his make a reappearance as Eddie smiles and asks, “I’d love to. But are you sure?”

Steve nods and slowly begins to tip his head towards Eddie. “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Eddie’s free hand comes up and caresses Steve’s cheek. A gentle little touch, featherlight like Steve is something delicate. He’s never felt so held, so adored. Eddie slowly leans in, nuzzles his nose with Steve’s, and finally closes the distance. 

This kiss is a light, tentative thing. Eddie’s lips are so pillowy and soft and gentle. He pulls back slightly to look Steve in the eye. Asking the question without needing words, is this ok? Should we keep going?

Steve then takes the lead, leaning back in and kissing Eddie with a little more force, a little more intent, but still soft and slow. All Steve can hear is the pounding of his heart and the clicking sounds their lips are making and they exchange chaste, sweet kisses. He wants more. Needs more. Needs to know what Eddie tastes like and how his tongue feels in his mouth.

He deepens the kiss, opening his mouth and capturing Eddie’s plump bottom lip, giving it a gentle suck. Eddie lets out a soft moan and opens his mouth in return. Steve tentatively licks at his upper lip and Eddie receives the message, his tongue slowly lapping into Steve’s mouth. He tastes like chocolate.

As the kissing intensifies, Steve reaches up and slides his hands into Eddie’s hair, being careful not to tug it out of his bun. Eddie’s hand that was resting on his cheek moves down and grips his hip. They’re both panting and moaning as their tongues caress and chase each other. The hand on Steve’s hip tightens and instinctively, without breaking the kiss, he lifts himself up and settles on Eddie’s lap. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and their kisses get deeper, firmer, hungrier. 

Steve is getting hard fast, and if he’s not mistaken, Eddie is too by the firmness he can feel under him. He sucks on Steve’s tongue and it sends fireworks right down to his dick. Like he can’t even control his own body, he rocks his hips down into Eddie and they both let out a groan as their cocks meet. Immediately Robin’s voice echoes in his mind, just don’t jump in dick first, and suddenly he snaps back into rationality and breaks the kiss.

Panting and wide-eyed, Eddie looks up at him with concern written all over his face. “You ok? Should we stop?”

Steve is trying to catch his breath and reign his dick in. He nods, “Yeah. Yeah I think we should slow down. That got really intense really fast.”

Eddie rubs his back reassuringly. “Of course honey. I’m sorry if I took that too far-“

“No, no! Don’t be sorry. That was amazing. You’re amazing. Jesus, I haven’t been kissed like that…maybe ever.” Steve runs his hand through his hair and sits back on Eddie’s lap, putting some space between their flagging dicks. “It was just getting a little too good, and I meant what I said. I wanna take this slow.”

“Anything you want. It’s yours.”

And the sincerity of those words makes Steve melt. He drapes his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and rests their foreheads together. “I want to keep kissing you. You feel incredible. I’m just afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

Eddie tilts his head up to kiss the tip of Steve’s nose. “We can keep kissing if you want. Keep it PG. You just gotta back that juicy ass up and leave some room for the Holy Spirit!”

Steve cracks up and swats at Eddie’s chest. ”What are you, a middle school priest?”

“I suppose you could call me Father Eddie, but I’d prefer Daddy,” he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Oh my god!” They both dissolve into giggles, that turn into giddy kisses, that turn into playful wrestling, and soon they find themselves lying down down on the couch - Eddie tucked into the back cushions and Steve snuggled up to his chest. 

Steve lets out a content sigh, relishing in their arms and legs entwined around each other like a couple of octopuses. “This is nice. It’s really good to have you back in town, Eds. Do you think…maybe we could see each other again soon?”

Eddie kisses the top of his head and breathes him in. “You’re gonna have a hard time trying to get rid of me, sweetheart. I’ll come see you every day if you let me. And since you asked the last two times, now it’s my turn! Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Hmmmm…I don’t know. Do we get to trauma dump on each other? That’s the third date milestone, right?” 

Steve’s head bounces on Eddie’s chest as he giggles. “Oh absolutely. We’ll bare our souls and tell the most appalling secrets.”

Steve slowly lifts his head and stares at Eddie. “Did you just quote Little Women at me?”

“I sure did.”

“Amazing. The Winona Ryder one is the best. It’s weird, she kinda looks like Joyce.”

“Hot.”

“Ew that’s basically my mom.”

“Well, then, your mom is hot.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah I think you kinda like me.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks again. “Maybe I do. We should probably kiss about it.”

He tilts his head up and Eddie smiles into the kiss. Time escapes them as they slowly make out on the couch. It’s less intense than earlier, but just as eager as they explore each other with their lips and tongues and hands. 

They finally stop when Steve breaks the kiss to hold back a yawn.

“You tired honey?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I don’t want to stop but I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Why don’t I take off and you can get some sleep? I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Mmm…that sounds good. I had a really great time, Eds. Thanks for coming over.”

“Sweetheart, I should be thanking you. That dinner was amazing, I don’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal that good. And those brownies? Holy shit.”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “Let me box some up for you to take home.”

They untangle themselves from each other and head to the kitchen. Steve packs up some brownies and walks Eddie to the door. ”Thank you for the flowers Eddie. That was really sweet.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from Stevie. Just wait. I’m gonna spoil you rotten.” He leans in for one last lingering kiss and whispers to Steve’s lips, “Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight Eds.”

He closes the door after watching Eddie walk away and slumps against it. That was perfect. Every moment, every look, every touch. 

Perfect.

Chapter 5<<Masterlist>>Chapter 7

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

I like comments! Taglist is open! I love you!

@annachronisme @mrsjellymunson @kozuuji

[shirefantasies]

Omg of course you can do something with the idea if you want! I don't mind at all and the fact you liked the idea so much makes me so happy💕

And I'm also fine with being called girl in like a gender neutral way yk like the same way people say guys to refer to everyone sometimes, so no worries with that either!

-🌱

YEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW with permission then I present.......

A Failure of Words- Haldir x GN!Reader

Warnings: brief implication of past trauma, GOOFY ELF CONTENT 😌🤙🏻

“What are you going to do, then, shoot it down?”

And you had laughed at that. Was it really so funny? Complaining about a cloud and his brother suggests firing an arrow at it? Haldir scoffed. Surely your giggling was only to respond politely to their inane humor.

You had been excelling in your target practice of late, your skills with a bow increasing thanks to Haldir as much as his brothers, while Rúmil and Orophin were more to thank for your progress in Elvish. Necessity, of course, as he was the only one with any skills in Common, something you had initially bonded over. Yet somehow your simple bond with his brothers seemed...different. Had Haldir himself ever made you laugh so? Had he ever tried?

"Come, now," Orophin addressed you by name, "hit three more targets and we'll show you that old painting of our beloved Haldir!"

Grinning, you took up your weapon again, stretching some exertion from your muscles before you followed the others' motions toward the next dangling piece of chipped wood. Rolling his eyes, Haldir followed.

~

Rúmil struggled several times to pick up the roll he'd dropped, and upon final success at lifting it he thrashed about as if the thing was fighting back. Again you laughed, a hand falling to the table you sat at.

"My father used to do that too- it's as if you knew! I had no idea you two were so funny. I suppose Haldir is the serious one," you teased, gaze shifting to the eldest brother.

All this time he'd thought of them as the ridiculous ones more than himself an outlier. They had not been promoted, neither had bothered to learn the common tongue, both preferred an aimless life in the trees to the ambitions of the world, protection of what they held dear. Not that they couldn't fight, but... Was Haldir himself the outcast? Heart sinking, he gazed around the table, taking in how easily conversation flowed between you and his brothers. Like the breeze. Haldir was the one who had accepted you when you first came to Lothlórien as a refugee, fought for an outsider to stay despite his usual prejudices. The torture you'd had to endure at the hands of your captors made him sick to even imagine, and fortuitously Galadriel had agreed.

He was the only one who truly knew your secrets, and so he had desired to be the first to truly make you smile again; now, it seemed, his brothers had robbed him of that, forced him back into his station as "the serious one". Worst of all, perhaps not the one who would hold your heart.

Instant it was not, but the elf had found himself falling for you more and more during his time as your guide. Watching your wonder as you were led higher and higher into the sun-soaked trees, chuckling at your confusion when you pronounced and repeated new Elvish words. Seeing you bloom like a sunflower finding its roots once more. Always had he struggled with displays of affection, and perhaps that had cost him more than time. Or else this was another challenge for the captain, a new type of battle to undertake: correcting the many times his words failed him in the face of your fair spirit.

"You might be surprised," he finally spoke, interrupting his own whirlwind of thoughts again to meet your eyes, "you are aware, after all, of how much I taught them."

Rúmil and Orophin's heads both tilted, gazing at their eldest brother with new interest. Newly widening smiles. Knowing ones. An unfortunate side effect he would deal with later. For the time being, there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"Of course I am," you replied, taking a sip from your goblet of water, "Tracking, archery... And surely they would not know so much of your history were it not for you."

"And about the beasts of the land, of course." A breeze blew through his hair as he inhaled, next line at the ready. "After all, my name is Hal-deer."

Groaning, Orophin and Rúmil both simultaneously dropped their heads into their hands, shaking them with great disapproval. Lacking fluency though they may have been, they knew enough to recognize such a play on words, and it was clear they did not like it. Too bad- it wasn't for them.

You? Bursting into laughter, you clapped your hands lightly, head thrown back in amusement that had Haldir grinning widely for the first time in likely far too long.

Still shaking their heads, both younger brothers excused themselves, Orophin practically shoving Rúmil away from the table as they scrambled off to refill their drinkware.

"Never have I heard you make a joke, Haldir! Why now? And why one so-" Words failed you, too, inquiry wholly aborted by a fresh bout of laughter. Well did it convey the rest of your question, however.

Suppressing a wince, Haldir willed his smile to return. Wait, perhaps it looked forced. Was he overthinking this? His brothers would probably say yes.

His brothers. "My brothers...they make you happy in a way I seemingly never can. Perhaps I envied them." His voice emerged as little more than a whisper, eyelids fluttering half-shut as if they could conceal him from your vision.

Your brows furrowed at this. Head giving a faint tilt of confusion, you leaned forward, forced his grey eyes to meet your gaze. "I...I confess I do see your brothers differently," you told him, your own voice shy, "I always wished to think of them like my own brothers."

Heart lightening, Haldir replied, perhaps a bit too readily, "You can."

"No," you shook your head, paused, "well..."

It was your turn to drop your gaze, your posture straightening as you gave a supplying incline of the head, clearly hoping Haldir followed.

He did. Did he? Jaw dropping slightly, he reached out a tentative hand, saw that you did not flinch. Lifting up your gaze gently by your chin, Haldir spoke again.

"That you may wish as well, for though my words have failed me again and again it is the very same in my heart. It vexed me not being the one to make you smile, to win you over, when your name had been so inscribed upon my heart. But if you'll have the serious one, he shall have you."

Your answer came in the form of a kiss that had his heart soaring, one a bit too quick for Haldir's liking, but he quite literally had all the time in the world if he wished. He could wait. For once, his words had not failed him.

"Again and again, my Hal-dear," you replied with a devilish grin.

The golden-haired elf let his own face fall into his hand at that one. "I'll not be forgetting that one anytime soon, will I?"

As fate would have it, Rúmil and Orophin designated that moment to return, whooping as they set their goblets back down, clearly having spied upon him through some curtain or another as they often had in their youth.

"Not in the slightest," they answered for you, voices perfectly synchronized.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[thepenguinweeb]

rewatching part four, you say…

*slams metaphorical credit card on table* rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan rohan please i am normal and sane about the manga artist

anyways perchance maybe reader is an assorted background stand user in morioh™️, and Jotaro or Joskue or whomever pair them up to look for things/people that stick out around the town (post shigechi death). Rohan is all like “that’s stupid, I can’t use my stand on every single citizen of morioh” only to be told “that’s fine, y/n can help narrow down the search”

maybe reader with a stand that lets them see auras or something similar. Neither knows what the others stand is or does and they kinda make idle banter about it as they go about the streets searching.

Stuff like “how are you supposed to help narrow this down” “stfu i’ll just tell you who looks suspicious, what are you even gonna do when I do though?” “i don’t want to tell you wtf” and “they wouldn’t have put us together if our stands weren’t benificial” and “you know, if i really wanted, I could just get the information myself (heavens door go brrr) but Im being kind and trying this new thing called ‘consent’”

Chance for comedy bc obviously they’re not gonna find bbg yoshikage, definitely could read one person with a negative vibe and be so shocked/discouraged by what they find after hours of walking that they turn in for the night. Rohan walks reader home, could be flirty as they actually talk about how terrifying heavens door could be (ie: koichi kidnapping)

if you go with the aura thing, maybe also a conversation about what his looks like and what readers first reaction to it was. talking about how well they compliment each other and that it’s no shock they were paired up for the search

idk, idc, go nuts man. the manga artist is hot and i’m not ashamed to admit that. need him. sorry this is so long and informal 😭

[ ♡ Kishibe Rohan x reader ]

[ ♡ When Jotaro pairs you up with an unfamiliar man as your partner to search for clues about a killer living in Morioh, you find an unlikely connection despite his.. less than friendly demeanor. ]

[ ♡ Requested by: anon !! <3 ]

[ ♡ A/N: YES YES I LOVE ROHAN THANK YOU !! DW about the long ask, I cannot emphasize how much I love when people rant in my inbox about their sillies. Anyway I loved this concept smm I hope I did your idea justice !! I kinda might have gone a bit overboard lol I usually don't write this much ]

[ ♡ Word count: 2k ! ]

Divider by @/cafekitsune !!

You've lived in the quiet town that is Morioh since your childhood. Your life, up to this point had been quite average, to say the least...

Until now, that is.

A few months ago, you'd been shot with a mysterious arrow, which seemed to awaken some kind of strange power within you.

You'd always been good at judging people's characters. It's what being a chronic people-watcher does to a person. Perhaps that's why you could see people's "auras" since the arrow incident.

To be quite honest with yourself, you didn't think much of it. It came in handy a few times, but life went on as normal.

But it seemed life had other plans for you, as not long after your discovery of these powers, you met a man, Kujo Jotaro.

Well.. not so much as met. More like, watched for a few days by him because he caught you using your Stand in public and thought you were an enemy.

But, you've cleared your name since then and became loosely accquainted with a group of people who were all Stand users, much like yourself.

All was well in Morioh.. you thought so, anyway.

Oh, but poor Shigechi.

It was Josuke who informed you of his death. You were just as struck as everyone else, despite not knowing the boy personally.

He didn't deserve to die.

And so, an investigation began. Clearly, there was something going on in Morioh, way bigger scale than what the group initially expected.

But nothing came back. You asked about it every day, to see if anyone had any news, but nothing. All you could be sure about was the fact that a killer was lurking in Morioh.. who was, also, most definitely a Stand user.

Just then, you got a call from Jotaro. He told you to meet him at a certain address. And don't be late.

You honestly didn't know what to expect. Despite its unlikeliness, deep down you hoped it was only good news - that they somehow found the killer and had him arrested, so Morioh would return to normal.

That, of course, wasn't the case.

You arrived at the location quite soon, as it was not too far from your own home. The address took you to a nice-looking house, though you weren't exactly sure why Jotaro wanted to meet you at a random house.

You spotted Jotaro immediately. Not a hard task, considering the man was 190 cm and wore a huge white coat at all times.

But then, next to him was another man, unknown to you. You know you've seen his face before.. more than once, too. Yet you still couldn't put it together..

"Y/N. Good. You're here." Jotaro nodded once you approached.

"Right. So, uh.." you made a point to glance at the other man, who you noticed was staring at you trough a sharp gaze.

"Kishibe Rohan." He extended his hand toward you, his eyes almost piercing trough your soul with the intensity. You had to wonder if he was always like that, or if he just didn't trust you.. perhaps both.

"Y/N L/N.." you took his hand for an awkward handshake. Then, something seemed to click in your mind. "Wait- Kishibe Rohan. Like, the mangaka?"

"That would be me, yes."

In hindsight.. Koichi did mention something in passing about knowing Kishibe Rohan, 'the greatest mangaka alive' personally..

You smiled, hoping some banter would eventually ease him up. But just as you were about to reply, Jotaro cut you off.

"The reason you're here," he began, "is because I have a job for you both."

Both you and Rohan raised an eyebrow at that.

"You have been informed of all that has happened recently, correct?"

You nodded in confirmation.

"I want you to work together to find anyone or anything suspicious. Whatever you can find. At this point, anything could be a clue."

A small silence filled the air as you stared at the tall man. You weren't against the idea of working together with Rohan, even if you didn't know him too well. The mangaka, however..

"You must be joking, Jotaro." He crossed his arms as he turned his head to look at the other man. "Surely you don't expect me to use my Stand on everyone in Morioh?"

"Of course not," Jotaro replied in his usual tone. "That's what Y/N is here for."

You could almost feel yourself wanting to sink into the ground at the harsh glance Rohan gave you.

But, after a few minutes of convincing, he eventually was dragged out by Jotaro agreed.

An extremely awkward silence hung about as the two of you trekked trough the streets. You kept your Stand activated at all times, but so far nobody had caught your attention. Though.. you had to admit, Rohan's aura was quite unique. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he was a Stand user, but his aura was more.. powerful, more confident, more defining than the average person.

"So." It was him who broke the silence first. "How, exactly, are you supposed to be of any help?"

You glanced at him, not appreciating his condescending tone. "It's simple. I'll tell you who's suspicious and who's not." You raised an eyebrow. "And what are you supposed to be doing?"

The man scoffed in response. "As if I would tell you about my Stand."

You rolled your eyes at his attitude. "Jotaro paired us up for a reason." Your lips curved into a small grin. "What, are you this insecure about your abilities?"

Rohan glared at you, even more intensely than before. He gave you the kind of look that told you if consequences weren't a thing, he'd have strangled you by now.

"Shut your mouth," he replied. "I don't need you for this job, you know. I could always do it on my own. You should be grateful you even have this opportunity."

You let out a long sigh and clutched your temple. It would be a long day if it kept on going like this..

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky above you. You'd been wandering the streets of Morioh since the morning, and so far, nothing.

"Ughh.." you heard Rohan quietly groan beside you. "Are you sure your Stand works perfectly? You seriously haven't seen anything at all yet?"

You gave the man a pointed glare upon hearing his doubts. "Of course it works," you snapped back.

"Then how come we haven't found a single suspicious person yet? Morioh isn't such a big town." He sighed. "Maybe you should get better at judging people."

"Ah, yes, I should be more like you, huh? Be judgemental to everyone who I think is below me."

You could tell Rohan was about to clap back with some witty comment, but you suddenly stopped in your tracks, so he did the same.

You focused on a certain person whose aura was different from the rest.

"That one." You pointed a finger at them.

Thankfully, for once Rohan decided not to be a pain in the ass and actually cooperate. As soon as you pointed the person out, he summoned his own Stand.. it was smaller than you expected from someone with an aura like his, but alas.

"Heaven's door!"

Rohan, with a simple drawing, somehow knocked the person out.. and turned their body into a book?

Definitely looked weird and gross.

"..that's your Stand?"

"Shut it."

Rohan began to flip trough the pages, his expression less and less positive with each passing paragraph.

After a couple minutes, he let out a long, defeated sigh. "Definitely not who we're looking for."

"Are you gonna let me read it too, or..."

The man rolled his eyes and let you have a look. But, to your disappointment, he was right. There was nothing noteworthy about them, there was no chance they were the killer.

You let out a sigh aswell and stepped back. You saw Rohan briefly scribble something into the book, then close it up.

"Let's go," he muttered. "We've been wandering for long enough. We can just tell Jotaro we haven't found anything."

You nodded in defeat and followed behind him as the two of you walked back toward his house.

"Well.. now that you know what my Stand does, it's only fair you tell me about yours too." Rohan spoke on your way back. "Isn't that right?"

"I suppose.." you replied. Even though you were reluctant to share at first, in a strange way, the two of you seemed to bond trough the day, even if you kept insulting and hating on each other.

"My Stand is called [Stand name]. It basically allows me to see people's auras, and get a feeling of their character," you explained.

"Hm.. I see." He was quiet for a while, most likely deep in thought. "So, what about mine?"

You tilted your head to the side. "You want to know what your aura is like?"

He nodded.

"Well, it's.. bold, powerful. Definitely stands out. It's proud and shameless. Like you."

You didn't even notice the small smile that grew on your face while you spoke. But Rohan definitely did, which only gave him an ego boost, it seemed.

"Is that so?" He questioned.

You nodded in response. "It was a little intimidating at first, to be honest," you muttered. "But you're not so scary. Just.. annoying."

He huffed at your answer and rolled his eyes in a dramatic motion, not missing the way you giggled at it.

"Heaven's Door can be frightening, I'll have you know," he replied, almost sounding defensive.

"Hm, well.. I guess it is pretty horrible to have your memories read, or taken out, or altered.." you pondered on that for a moment. "Your Stand is too powerful."

Rohan just grinned, not at all insulted. "Only the best for the best."

You stifled another sigh at his arrogant behaviour. You've gotten used to it by the course of that day.

"But.." he continued, his tone changing to a more serious one again. "I do see why Jotaro paired us up now." He looked at you. "Our Stands do work nicely with each other. Wouldn't you agree?"

You gave him a smile and nodded. "Yeah. In an investigation like this, especially."

Soon, the two of you arrived back to his home. It was dark by then, but you didn't mind.

"Well, today was.." you began,

"Exhausting," Rohan finished the sentence for you. "Horrible and exhausting."

"Yeah.. that." You chuckled. "But.. honestly, it was better than I expected." You tapped your chin. "Could've been worse.. especially since you were involved."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Hey. What's that supposed to mean?"

"Pfft.." you stifled another chuckle. "I'll let you figure it out by yourself. Since you're so smart."

Rohan just glared at you in silence for a moment before shaking his head and giving up. "You're hopeless."

Your grin widened in amusement. Oh, was it easy to rile the poor man up.. you didn't feel too bad about it though.

Suddenly, he took out his notebook and wrote down something. He tore the page out and handed it to you without a word. Taking one look at it, you could tell clearly it was a phone number.

"We should keep in touch during the investigation," he said. "I don't believe you have my phone number yet."

"Now I do," you said with a smile. "Thank you."

He simply hummed in reply and muttered a barely audible 'no problem'.

"You better head home now," he told you. "I've seen too much of your face for today."

You wanted to take the insult to heart, but all you could do was giggle at it. "As if that was a problem."

"Get out."

"You're no fun.." you complained, but you did as he wished and turned around. "I'll call you if I find out anything, yeah?"

"Right," Rohan agreed. "Same goes for me."

You waved at each other and parted ways. The night suddenly felt a lot colder and more quiet without Rohan's annoying, yet admittedly somehow endearing presence.

The day might've been way too long, and not even successful. But hey. At least you made a connection with someone.