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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months

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Family Name

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader (reader was in the Army and SWAT in Central City)

Summary: After ten years away, you return to Gotham. When you discover you know the true identity of the Joker, you join Batman's fight to save Gotham.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vague references to several DC Comics movies and timelines, murder (I can't get too specific about the murder warning without spoiling a plot point, but there is a friendly fire aspect and an assassination by a sniper)

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce Wayne (or at least posting it lol) so he may be OOC. I actually wrote most of this a year ago and just put the finishing touches on it, so I'm not sure if it's worth reading. Feel free to let me know what you think and send any Bruce Wayne requests you have so I can keep practicing for him! (If you want a specific characterization/actor let me know.)

The map that I used as a reference while writing is included at the end!

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Gotham is still cold, wet, and smelly. Some things never change, no matter how hard a certain vigilante tries. It’s been nearly ten years since you last set foot in Gotham, and things have changed. For better or worse? Who can tell?

It is raining as you walk out of the train station on the outer border of Gotham City. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body as the cold drizzle starkly contrasts the sunny Central City you came from. You hail a cab and tell the driver the address of your temporary apartment. The news station on the radio catches your attention, and the driver turns it up when you ask.

“After a fearsome showdown last night with the Joker, who is still missing from Arkham Asylum, the Batman has been spotted in downtown Gotham. The GCPD is on high alert following several tips of illegal business at the Iceberg Lounge,” they report.

“You new in town?” the driver asks.

“Not exactly. I haven’t been here in years though,” you explain.

“Then you’re new. This is a whole new Gotham. Just stay on the good side of the Batman and you’ll be fine, kid. This is you.”

After paying the driver and pulling your bags from the trunk, you stand on the sidewalk and look up at the place you now call home. The apartment building is old but in decent condition. Especially considering where it is. As the rain grows heavier, you move inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor and entering your apartment. The unit came furnished, so you only have some clothing to unpack. You start a list of the housewares and cleaning supplies you’ll need to buy. Walking around the living room, you notice the cable is hooked up and turn on the television. The local television channels are either out because of the rain or playing broadcasts of last night’s story. Any background noise will do, you suppose, as you leave a news channel on and begin unpacking and cleaning with what little bit of supplies you have.

After cleaning, you take a break and fall back onto the couch. The news is still on, and a face flashes across the scene, filling you with an odd sense of recognition. You lean forward to get a better view before exclaiming, “No way.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“When did you come back?” someone asks as you enter a small department store.

Looking up, you smile when you see a familiar face. “Barbara, hey! Last night. Been in Central City for too long.”

“Should have stayed there,” she says, laughing humorlessly. “Gotham is quite literally the most crime ridden city in the world now. It’s on the sign and everything. At least in Central you have a vigilante to protect you.”

“So does Gotham,” you point out. “He’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we do. But for every criminal he puts in Arkham, ten more pop up.”

“Is your dad still a cop?”

“He’s the commissioner now. Actually…” She pulls a card out of her wallet and hands it to you. “Call him if you ever get in trouble. Be careful, okay? This isn’t the Gotham you remember.”

“I will. Thanks.”

You watch her leave before you begin shopping for the items on your list. After shopping, you are back in your apartment, cleaning and organizing. The Gotham News has more showtime than Hannah Montana in the 2000s. You find yourself invested in every story they present. Maybe this isn’t the Gotham you remember, but it is still Gotham and your home. If this city needs help, you'll offer everything you have.

“Citizens of Gotham, I am Police Commissioner James Gordon. Regarding the recent red alert at Arkham Asylum, the GCPD is urging residents to stay indoors, lock doors and windows, and most importantly, stay calm. We are not sure at this time how many, if any, patients escaped the asylum. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact crime stoppers at 800-”

You mute the television and look at your closet. An armour-plated uniform hangs front and centre, practically begging you to put it on and fight for your home. If Barbara doesn’t think Batman can handle all the criminals, maybe he would appreciate a little help.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chastise yourself, still looking at the closet. A few minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of the closet, thinking, “But you have the training.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Gotham looks much darker from a rooftop. You find a lookout spot a few blocks from Arkham, assuming anyone who escaped will have to pass you eventually.

“Oh, sweet Gotham! Riddle me this!” a high-pitched voice calls. A moment later, you see a man dressed in a green suit entering the alley below you.

“Now or never,” you whisper as you move toward the edge.

“The more of it there is, the less of all you see. What is it?” Riddler asks.

“Darkness,” you answer as you grab his shoulders.

You pull him backwards and knock him to the ground. His breath rushes out at the impact, and you bring your elbow down to his face, rendering him unconscious before he can catch his breath. The burner phone you bought earlier is programmed with James Gordon’s number in it.

“Gordon,” he answers.

“Riddler is unconscious in the alley at Tomlinson and Pygall,” you say lowly, hoping your voice is disguised enough, before hanging up.

Your attention is ripped away from the unconscious criminal as a silhouette of a bat floats across the sky.

“There’s hope yet, Gotham,” you say, smiling.

✯✯✯✯✯

It seems as though you are better at vigilantism than you expected. Everywhere you go, Batman is either already there or crosses your path. He has yet to see you, that much is sure. Lurking on a dark rooftop, you hear the telltale sign of his grappling hook and are a second too late in realizing he is moving onto the same roof as you.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing half my jobs?” he asks, walking toward you.

“You seem busy, thought you might like some help,” you respond, shrugging as you change your voice again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But you need to go home. This is dangerous and you could get hurt.”

You internally roll your eyes at his obvious arguments. “So could you.”

“Doesn’t matter if I get hurt.”

“Me neither. Any idea how many more of them are out there?”

Batman sighs and turns away from you to look over the city. “One or two,” he answers. “The city got lucky; Joker was in solitary and didn’t get out.”

You nod to yourself, moving toward the edge as you ask, “Why does it seem so easy to escape Arkham?”

“Poor security, not enough staff, an old building. The list is endless. Every time someone tries to strengthen it, a stronger foe comes along and breaks it again.”

“You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Yet nothing’s changed.”

A sound behind you stops your answer. Turning toward the sound, you launch yourself onto the fire escape, ignoring Batman’s pleas to stop.

“Whoa,” you breathe, looking at the plants growing in the alley.

“You’re not the Bat,” Poison Ivy, whose news special aired last night, says. “You’d look much better in green than him.”

“Every plant I’ve ever owned has died. It’s one of my talents,” you taunt before throwing a canister from your belt.

“It won’t work, Buttercup. I’ve been tear gassed many times.”

“It’s not just tear gas,” you call as the plants begin to wither. “It’s concentrated sulfur dioxide. Deadly to plants and debilitating to people.”

She coughs several times before falling. An arm wraps around your waist, and you are hoisted through the air before landing on a rooftop.

“What was that?!” Batman demands.

“Sulfur dioxide.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You can’t just run around taunting criminals in a mask. What if that hadn’t worked and she had hurt you?”

“She didn’t. Besides-“

“No! You don’t get to justify this.” He keeps talking, and you feel like you have heard him before. You watch him closely as he continues berating you.

“This is not a game. Do you understand that?” Bingo. You smile at him, his chest heaving as he prepares to yell at you again.

“You’re still really protective,” you say lightly.

Batman turns toward you quickly, shaking his head before asking, “What?”

“In middle school you wouldn’t let me jump from the top of the swing set. Just funny that you’re still so protective when you risk your life every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

You move toward the edge of the building and look over your shoulder at him.

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Batman runs to the edge after you jump, but the alley is empty.

“Alfred,” he calls into his earpiece.

“You’ll figure it out, sir. Eventually.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Batman asks as he walks up behind you.

“No. You told me I couldn’t run around taunting criminals in a mask. Which, by the way, I have some questions about. Can I walk and taunt criminals in a mask or is it the taunting that’s the problem?” you tease, looking up at him from your crouched position.

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “I’ll give you a pass for the other night, but you need to go home. Right now. I’m not letting you get hurt for this.”

“Then don’t. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours.” You extend your hand for a handshake as you stand.

“No deal. Go home.”

“I’m not going home. So, stay with me and we can help each other or I’m going to go hunt him down on my own.”

He narrows his eyes at you before sighing and shaking your hand.

“Why are you smiling?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“We always were a pretty good team.”

You see the moment of recognition as his jaw drops under the cowl. He recovers quickly and points at you.

“Ground rules. Number one: you don’t engage. Two: stay hidden. Three: run if things go south.”

“Got it. Be boring,” you relay.

“This is not the time for jokes. Our lives are on the line. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Please enlighten me,” Batman prods impatiently.

You can tell he is mad you were here and are not listening to him. Too bad, Bats, you think. Gotham is your home, too, and you aren’t going to let it fall into the hands of some crazy clown or any other criminal.

“But before you tell me that, tell me what makes you qualified to be out here.”

“Look at me. Armoured uniform, tear gas, I’m a CCPD jacket short of official.”

“You’re CCPD?”

“I was. SWAT officer for five years after I got out of the Army. But I grew up here and I’m not letting this city go without a fight.”

“Why this fight? The one criminal we haven’t been able to stop for almost a decade?”

“Because...” You look up at him and smile. “I know who he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Thank you, Batman,” Commissioner Gordon says, shaking Batman’s hand. “We’ll get him in solitary.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Batman replies.

“Who’s your new helper? Everyone at the station is talking about the reaper that popped up and knows how to take them all down.”

“An old friend. Try to keep them in a while longer this time, will you?”

Commissioner Gordon turns around to see Batman is gone. “We’ll try,” he mumbles into the dark.

✯✯✯✯✯

The next night, Batman is gone. You don’t so much as see his shadow all night. There is only one criminal out; maybe they’re all on vacation, too. Killer Croc used Arkham’s sewer system to escape and pop up downtown. It was a long and tiresome fight, but you got him on the ground, and the GCPD took it from there. You finally reach the rooftop, preparing to cross them to go home, but don't make it far. Hitting the roof, you feel pain shoot through your ribs. After running your hand across the area, your skin is stained red. Great, you think.

“What were you thinking?!” Batman reprimands you as he appears and kneels beside you, pulling items from his utility belt.

“Mostly about what I was going to eat for dinner,” you joke, hissing when the antiseptic hits your skin.

“I’m sorry,” Batman says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy. At least it wasn’t my neck this time.”

“I told you not to use your belt to traverse the jungle gym,” Batman mumbles.

“So, you do remember me,” you say happily.

“You’re still an idiot with a death wish.”

“And you’re still Mother Hen Bruce.”

“This’ll help for now,” he says, helping you stand up and hooking his arm under your shoulders. “But I’m taking you back to the cave to get you checked out.”

“Didn’t do enough checking out in high school?” you slur before passing out.

“Alfred, we’re inbound,” he says into his microphone.

“Glad to see blood loss doesn’t dampen her sarcasm,” Alfred responds, “I’ll be ready.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What did you mean you know who he is?” Bruce asks.

You blink several times to make sure you aren’t imagining him. He looks different than the last time you saw him. Without the mask, he’s more like the Bruce you grew up with, just older and barely holding Gotham together.

“You got hot,” you say without thinking.

“Thanks. Now tell me what you meant.”

“That I know who he is?” you clarify, standing up.

“Please stay down,” Alfred chides as he returns with tea.

“Thanks, Alfred. Good to see you again.” You smile as you accept the tea.

“You as well. Now take it easy. You should be battle ready in a day or two but that’s only if you rest properly.”

“No, you will not be battle ready. There is no more battle for you,” Bruce adds.

“You know I’m not going to listen and if you tell me no I’ll just do it myself.”

“We’ll have this conversation later. For now, tell me what you know about Joker.”

“Okay. He’s my uncle. Like twice removed, or-“

“There’s no way you’re related to that monster,” Bruce interjects.

“I’m not, really. We’re related by marriage. His aunt or somebody else married my cousin and I happened to meet him a few times. Fate, I guess.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No. Everyone in the family called him J. I thought his name started with a J but see now that it’s because he’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head before turning serious again. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m great. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are endangering yourself and ignoring everything I say.”

“Me too.”

“But Alfred’s right. You need some rest. We can finish this conversation later.”

“I can go home,” you say, standing up.

You stumble slightly, and Bruce catches you, holding you upright against him.

“Can you?” he asks, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I think I found something,” you cheer when Bruce answers the phone.

“Where are you?”

“My apartment. It’s by Sacred Heart.”

The line goes silent, so you say Bruce’s name.

“You’re living by the Narrows? I thought you just went out there to fight.”

“It’s a fine building. I’m not in the Narrows.”

“No but you’re between Crime Alley and Arkham Island. You need to find a new place. Now.”

“I can’t afford anything else, Bruce. It was this or Slaughter Swamp.”

“Pack your essentials. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hangs up, leaving you with a dozen questions. However, you know he means what he says, so you pack the stuff you can’t live without and are ready to go when he shows up twenty minutes later.

“You’re staying at Wayne Manor until we find you a new place.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It’s not just that this is close to the Narrows. We’re going after Joker, and I need to know you’re safe.”

“We’re not going after Joker,” you correct, “we’re finishing this.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce, I can’t find a marriage certificate. They may not have been married; maybe they were just living together or something and didn’t want to explain it to a kid,” you admit, disappointed in your lack of findings.

“It’s okay. We will find something. And if we don’t, we can do it another way,” he assures.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is the fourth Arkham breakout in as many weeks. When do you sleep?” you ask.

Alfred laughs faintly through the communications system.

“During Wayne Enterprises meetings, usually,” Bruce answers.

“I got one. Going dark,” you alert before jumping to meet Captain Boomerang.

After a short fight which results in your earpiece breaking, Captain Boomerang is unconscious, and you prepare to call Gordon.

“Ha ha ha ha,” an eerie voice cackles behind you.

You freeze in place before turning slowly and coming face-to-face with the Joker. He knocks your helmet off in one swift move, and your face is now visible.

“I remember you. My aunt married your second cousin. Horrible family you have. Or should I say had? Ha ha ha ha.”

“What do you want?”

“Is a family reunion not enough? No, I guess you’re right. I mean, marriages end so are we even related anymore?”

“We never were.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Reaper! You know everyone calls you that, don’t ya? Personally, I think it’s a bit morbid but to each their own. I also heard from a little bird that you’re working with the big, bad bat. I had such great hopes for you, and you let me down.”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly.

“To be family again,” he answers, smiling as he runs his fingers over your face and hair.

“What about Harley? Isn’t she your family? You were all she could talk about the other night.”

“Not anymore. She settled for some used piece on her Suicide Suckers. But me and you? Me and you could be the dream team. The family to end all families.”

“I don’t want to be part of your family.”

“When I found out Harley was a harlot, you know what I said? I said I’d peel off her skin and put it on a new body. But I can’t imagine those words coming from her. So, from now on…” he moves his hand to rest in front of your throat as his smile drops. “If Harley wouldn’t say it, you don’t say it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred, where is she?” Bruce asks.

“Toxic Acres. She’s still not responding,” Alfred responds, watching your tracker blink in the same place for the fifth consecutive minute.

“I’m going after her,” Bruce declares.

“Be careful, Master Bruce.” Bruce doesn’t respond, and Alfred mutes the private connection as he watches Bruce’s tracker move toward yours. “And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re making a mistake, J,” you hiss, the pressure of Joker’s hand on your throat making it hard, but not impossible, to breathe.

“No, they made a mistake,” he argues, moving his hand slightly as he steps back to look at you.

“Who?”

“Your family. All families. Everyone who treats people like outsiders.”

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this - all of this - because you never felt like you belonged in a family?”

“No!” Joker yells, leaning his weight against your throat as he smiles in your face. “Because no family has ever accepted me. I know I don’t belong, but everyone expects families to lie, right? Especially their own, but no, poor Joker always got told the truth! ‘You’re too strange,’ ‘You’re dangerous,’ ‘The kids are scared of you,’ yet no one ever offered to help me fit in.”

You raise your hands to his arm and claw at his skin, growing desperate for air as he rants. He looks over when your hits grow weaker and pulls his hand back. You fall to the ground, wheezing, as you try to take deep breaths.

Holding your neck, you look up at him and ask, “Then what do you want?”

He kneels in front of you and holds a knife out in his hand. “I want you to find a family and make a Joker-sized hole for me to fill.”

Shaking your head, you argue, “I’m not like you. I won’t do that, J.”

He cocks his head as his smile falls. “Harley wouldn’t say that, would she? And, besides, you’re more like me than you think, aren’t you? And what’s more interesting is that I think you know it. We’re the same, you and I, whether you like it or not.” The knife is raised to your throat as he threatens, “Do it, or I will make another hole in your family.”

“Another?” you ask.

The blade presses against your skin, and you close your eyes, unwilling to give him the theatrics and attention he so desperately seeks. A grappling hook sounds somewhere above you just before the blade is removed from your throat. Joker’s words echo in your head, and your eyes stay closed. Someone gently touches your neck and your face, but you don’t open your eyes, in case it’s him trying to trick you. He does that; you remember that too well.

An arm loops around your waist as a hand pulls your arms over broad shoulders. Only when you’re flying through the air and clinging to him are you ready to admit that Bruce is saving you. Opening your eyes, you see Wayne Tower in the distance. You tighten your arms around Bruce’s neck, and his hand squeezes your waist in response. He lands on the roof of Wayne Manor and rushes into the Batcave.

“What did he do to you?” Bruce asks as he sets you on a medical exam table. The same table you sat on when he saved you after the fight with Killer Croc.

Bruce tries to step back, but you cling to him. He’s the only family you have left, and Joker opened an old wound with his talk of carving a hole in a family to fill himself. That’s what he tried to do with your family, but when he still didn’t fit, he kept carving.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper into Bruce’s suit.

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the edge of the table as he cups your head to his shoulder.

“I’m right here,” he soothes. “Not going anywhere.”

He holds you for longer than you realize; time slows down in Bruce’s arms. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands and looks at you intently.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not right now,” you whisper.

“That’s okay,” he promises, nodding.

“The guest bedroom has been prepared and dinner is awaiting you, Master Bruce,” Alfred calls, briefly appearing in the doorway of the Batcave.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. And you’re staying here tonight.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you stand and follow Bruce upstairs. He shows you to a guest room with clothes, toiletries, and more books than you can count. Telling you to use whatever you want; he leaves to change before meeting you for dinner.

When you enter the bathroom to change into the clothes you found in the closet, you see yourself in the mirror. Mostly, you see the red line running across your neck. Joker has hurt more than enough people, you decide, and you meant what you told Bruce; you plan to finish this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce sits up suddenly. The sun is coming through the cracks in his curtains, but something feels off. He pulls a shirt over his head and walks down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room where you’re staying. After a moment of no answer, he lets himself in. There’s a note on the bed in your handwriting.

I can’t let him do it again, especially not to you. Please stay home tonight and let me finish this fight. I should have done it ten years ago, but I was scared and ran. This is my chance to make everything right. Please forgive me.

Bruce takes a deep breath, suppressing his urge to punch a hole in the wall. Alfred wouldn’t appreciate another one. He rereads the note, then goes downstairs for breakfast like everything is fine.

“Where is our guest?” Alfred asks when Bruce enters the dining room. “Resting, I hope.”

“She’s gone. She left in the middle of the night to, quote, finish a fight like she should have done ten years ago.”

Alfred’s eyes widen as he stops moving trays onto the table. “You’re going after her, then?”

“No, Alfred, I am not.”

Bruce picks up the paper, as nonchalant as ever, and more convincing than when he turns on his Brucie Wayne charm.

“Why ever not, sir?”

“She asked me not to. And after her reaction to me last night, I’m inclined to listen to her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bruce drops the paper and looks at Alfred. “I am going to do exactly what she said.” When the paper covers his face again, he adds, “For a while.”

“Good man,” Alfred mutters, returning to serving breakfast.

✯✯✯✯✯

Realistically, you know that breaking into Arkham and executing a patient isn’t the best idea, but it would solve the problem. However, there’s the downside of life in prison for first-degree murder that you’d have to contend with. Bruce would surely visit you, but you don’t want to lose him before you get him back.

Perched on a rooftop, you watch Arkham and hope your trap is being laid as planned. The security lights blink on seconds before the alarm sounds. If Arkham Asylum is good for anything, it’s the consistency of frequent breakouts. No matter who breaks out tonight, you’re prepared. All you have to do is convince them to lay a trap for Joker, convincing him that you killed someone, and then you can pounce. Watching the alley below you, you furrow your brows as you lean forward.

“Catwoman?” you ask incredulously.

She looks up, tilting her head at the sight of you. “Reaper?” she asks, sounding far too excited.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Thieving, I presume?” She nods, and you lower yourself onto a fire escape before jumping to meet her. “There’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“Maybe.”

You clench your hands into fists and look down the alley.

“I think the better question is what are you doing here, Reaper? I’m not exactly in your demographic.”

Under your mask, you press your lips together and consider confiding in her. She cares about Batman as far as you can tell, so if you tell her Joker is planning to kill him (though, in reality, Bruce is his likely target), she may be willing to help.

“Batman dump you? He does that,” Catwoman hums.

“What? No, no, we’re not together like that.”

“Yet,” Catwoman interjects.

“Look, Joker is going to try to kill someone that I love. He’s already ruined my family forever.”

“You just moved here, who could you possibly love here? I thought I fell fast.”

“I grew up here, and-“

Your mind races as you remember that you haven’t been seen with Bruce since returning, but Joker has been out since then. Pulling the earpiece from your pocket, you hope someone is in the Batcave.

“Hello?” you ask into it, desperate and terrified for your family. “Take whatever you want,” you tell Catwoman when you don’t get an answer, “heck, take something for me too. But if you see Batman, tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Sure.” You move toward the end of the alley before Catwoman asks, “What should we call you?”

Smiling, you answer, “Reaper is growing on me.”

“Good luck, Reaper.”

You could have taken a grappling hook before you left Wayne Manor last night, but you were more concerned with Bruce’s safety than yours. Getting off of Arkham Island and into Gotham Heights will take too long on foot.

“Batman?” you ask, trying the comm again. “Anybody?”

“You called?”

You slide to a stop, nearly falling over, when you see Batman perched on a roof, looming like a gargoyle. He spreads his cape as he moves to the road before you. Looking down at you, though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s trying to ensure you’re safe and unharmed.

“He’s going after Barbara. I thought he meant you, but he was out when I saw Barbara.”

“I’ll call Gordon. We need to get to Gotham Heights.”

“We’ll never make it in time. The alarm sounded twenty minutes ago.”

Bruce’s head turns toward you as he presses a button on his utility belt. The Batmobile turns a corner, coming to a stop beside you. Your eyes widen as the top opens, jumping in the passenger seat as you look at everything in awe.

“Barbara is stronger, and knows more than you think, but she can’t hold him off forever.”

You nod, prepared to do whatever you have to do. Even if it means making Bruce hate you.

“And I forgive you. Whatever you do, I understand,” Bruce says quietly. “Just- just remember that your actions affect more people than just you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s a trap. The driveway beside Barbara’s place is decorated like the cookout where you met Joker.

“Go check on Babs, I’m right behind you,” you tell Batman.

He hesitates, noticing exactly where your focus is, before tapping your shoulder and running toward Barbara’s door. When Batman is out of sight, Joker’s laugh surrounds you.

“Did you do it?” Joker asks, stepping out of the shadows.

“No.”

“Whyever not?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because I’m not a killer. We are not the same.”

“Come over here,” he demands. You listen despite your body’s urging to leave. “And give me a real reason,” he adds when you stop across a picnic table from him.

“That is the real answer. I will not do to another family what you did to mine. I’m not a killer.”

“Now, now, now, that’s not true.”

His eyes are fixed on your mask, likely imagining your furrowed brows and scared eyes. “Is the mask necessary, Reaper? We know one another. It’s just family here.”

You swallow as you rip the mask off, levelling your gaze on Joker, determined not to show him how much he is affecting you.

“If you hurt her, I will end you.”

Joker flaps a dismissive hand. “She’s fine. I just needed a reason to celebrate, but you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not-“

“A killer, yes, so you say. However, there’s a family out there that begs to differ.”

You lick your lips, unsure how he knows this. The record was redacted and eventually destroyed, so no one outside of your team at the time should know.

Joker’s laugh draws your attention back to him. “You are a killer. Just like me.”

Shaking your head, you flinch when Joker slaps his hands onto the table, leaning forward to get closer to you.

“Joseph,” Joker whispers, smiling widely at your surprised movement.

Someone screams in the distance, and you remember your promise: to protect your home, no matter the cost. Unholstering the gun you hadn’t carried in years, you hold it to Joker’s forehead.

“Do it,” he begs, leaning against the barrel. “Show them how alike we are.”

Your arm shakes as you fight to do it. With a finger on the trigger, Joker should be gone already, but you can’t do it.

Lowering the gun, you sigh, preparing for Joker’s next idea or a surprise dose of his laughing toxin. He watches you until he reaches for something. Before you can lunge forward to stop him, a shot rings out in the Gotham night. You hear it as Joker jerks to the side, slumping to the ground. Turning toward the right, you search the skyline for the shooter. You see a familiar salute and laugh to yourself as the silhouette disappears.

“Reaper!” Batman yells, rushing toward you. He slows as he sees you standing over Joker.

There’s a note, half blown apart. He took credit. You laugh again, oblivious to Batman’s concerned gaze on the back of your head. The laughter quickly turns to hiccups as you fight to remain composed. You walked out of Wayne Manor prepared to assassinate Joker. Now that you have essentially been an accomplice to his death and reminded of your worst mistake, you’re falling apart.

Bruce whispers your name, a hand on your arm as he turns you away. He raises a hand to your jaw as the first tear rolls down your cheek.

“I killed him,” you admit.

“No, you didn’t. That shot was too far away, no one will blame you.”

“I killed Joseph,” you repeat. “I didn’t see him, and there was so much fog and- I shouldn’t have taken the shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left the Army and joined SWAT because I killed a civilian. I don’t know how Joker knew, but he was right. I am a killer.”

“Hey, hey.” When you don’t respond, Batman summons the Batmobile, whispering to Gordon on the phone as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Once you’re in Wayne Manor, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Bruce’s shirts, he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re not like Joker, and you’re not a killer. Friendly fire is a terrible thing, but it’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself for that. Saving people has its costs, and if I could take the guilt from you, I would.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” you confess, “I dream about it all the time, but I don’t remember actually pulling the trigger.”

“You may never know. But either way, you can forgive yourself and move on.”

Wiping under your eyes, you lean against Bruce’s chest as you ask, “What did Gordon say? How’s Babs?””

“Their ballistics team is examining the velocity and angle to find where the shot came from. Barbara didn’t even know anything was happening, she’s fine.”

“The roof of Verdant in The Narrows,” you whisper, laying an open hand over Bruce’s heart.

“That’s too far for a shot like that.”

“Not for Army snipers.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Used to be,” you shrug before adding, “Lawton started killing for money, and I couldn’t support that.”

“Wait,” Bruce interjects, pushing you back slightly, ducking to look into your eyes. “You’re telling me that Deadshot just killed Joker? For free?”

“He doesn’t do anything for free,” you answer, smiling. “But I didn’t pay him if that’s what you think. Besides, he left a calling card of sorts.”

“Not at all. Batman will call Gordon tomorrow and let him know.”

“What’s Batman doing tonight?”

“He’s on vacation,” Bruce sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “And Bruce Wayne is catching up with an old friend.”

Smiling, you turn sideways to press your chest against Bruce, laying your arms over his shoulders.

“I think that sounds like a great night.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found something,” Bruce says, removing his cowl as you enter the Batcave.

“A life?” you joke.

“Ha. No, I had a friend of mine go searching for that destroyed Army record.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, wringing your fingers together.

“Because you didn’t kill Joseph. Your gun never went off, and the shot came from a different direction with a much higher velocity. This looked like sniper.”

“You think it was Lawton?”

“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Bruce tilts your head toward him and looks you in the eye to add, “But the important thing is that you have no reason to keep carrying that burden.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on patrol with me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“You won’t. Not with me around.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Bats.”

“Catwoman,” Batman answers.

“Reaper was looking for you a few nights ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other. Thanks, though.”

“She said you weren’t together like we were, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“Give them back,” you say, surprising both Catwoman and Batman.

“Give what back?” she parrots.

You hold your hand out. “The pearl necklace and earrings you stole. They’re not worth anything to the woman, but they’re sentimental.”

Catwoman huffs, pulling a small bag from her pouch and tossing it to you. “I chose them for you anyway.”

“What?”

“You said to steal something for you too.”

“I thought my best friend was about to get murdered, I didn’t mean it!”

“And did you mean what you said about not being with Bats here?” She places a hand on her hip, and you take the opportunity to look at Batman before answering.

“He’s just not my type,” you answer, shrugging one shoulder.

You see his jaw twitch before he nods his farewell to Catwoman.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper as you walk past him. “And we’ve got a crocodile to catch.”

Batman sighs. “Welcome to Gotham.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Whose are they?” Bruce asks as you examine the pearl jewellery.

“Mine,” you answer, not looking at him. “What are the chances she’d use my permission to thieve to rob me?”

“Not bad with Sel- Catwoman.”

“Selina Kyle, yeah, I know.”

“Sentimental, huh?”

You turn toward Bruce, passing him the necklace.

“I told your mom that I liked her pearls, like five months before she was killed, and the next day she surprised me. She picked me up from school and told me we were going shopping. They’re the cheapest ones the store had, but I’ve loved them ever since because they came from someone I loved and… I guess they made me feel a bit more like her, and she was amazing.”

When you look back at Bruce, he’s still holding the necklace, but his gaze is on you. He sets the necklace down, stepping toward you. Gripping your waist, he pulls you against him with a wide smile.

“You’re amazing too.”

“Not like her.”

“There’s no one quite like her. But she loved you too, more than you know. Actually, she thought we were going to get married,” Bruce adds, nudging his nose against yours.

“I did too,” you whisper.

Bruce kisses you quickly, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Based on the newspapers, I thought you’d be better than that,” you tease.

Bruce clicks his tongue before pulling you into another kiss. While he takes your breath, he fills you with love and hope. His hands keep you as close as possible, one sliding up to hold your head as he deepens the kiss, whispering something against your lips.

“Wait,” you mumble, moving your hands from his jaw to his chest. “What did you say?”

Bruce smirks, the charm that no one gets to see any more on display. “That I love you.”

Your eyes widen, and you grip his shoulders as you rise to kiss him, informing him that you feel the same. “I love you more,” you say against his lips, melting into him as you become one.

“My mom would want you to have her pearls,” Bruce whispers, rubbing his thumb in large sweeping motions against your upper hip. “And she’d want us to see where this goes.”

“Your mom was very smart,” you muse, putty in Bruce’s hands as he moves to the couch, tugging you into his lap.

“Did you love my mom enough to take her last name eventually?”

“This is more important – I love you enough.”

“Finally!” Alfred exclaims as he walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. “It is about time you officially join the family and take the name.”

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x reader #batman fic #bruce wayne fic #dc comics x reader

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nhl-stories · 6 months

Text

hornylovesickmess – Nico Hischier

Summary: Marie should know better by now, knows she should leave him alone, but Nico's like a drug. One more hit can't hurt.

Author’s Note: Almost a year to the day I finally finished this album series. Phew! Also lol to me thinking I'd have the motivation to finish it in 10 weeks. Seems clear from the title but it does get steamy below.

Word Count: 2.6k

Album Series Masterlist

And I don't wanna be the type of person who calls you up Every time I need to get off

The view from her hotel room is taunting her. It’s sunny and bright on the Hudson River, reflecting off the buildings of the New York skyline.

Most people wouldn’t be too upset about being put up in a nice hotel and having 48 hours free in close proximity to the city, but Marie had moved away for a reason.

And still part of her is stuck here, even at a 4-star hotel minutes away from Newark airport.

So, she does what she does best and gives into her baser instincts.

She’s no stranger to crafting the perfect sext, keeping it tantalizing and teasing enough while still giving her location. Like an eloquent ‘u up?’

Marie hits send before she can second guess herself.

She shouldn’t be reaching out to him, grabbing for that loose thread and pulling for her own selfish reasons. But she’s been lonely since the move and in all honestly, just plain horny.

Nico almost swallows his tongue when he opens the text.

At first glance a simple picture of the New York skyline, but at second glance the reflection of a naked woman comes into view.

It might as well be Marie’s calling card.

He regrets opening the text in the locker room.

“What the hell has you that red Neeks?” Bastian calls from his stall.

He can feel the blush getting darker.

“The last time you looked like that was because of that flight attendant,” Bratter calls out.

When he doesn’t respond balls of tape come flying his way with a chorus of groans.

“It’s not like I texted her first!”

“You never text her first,” Jack rolls his eyes.

“I’m not texting her back.”

“Block her number while you’re at it,” Bratt responds.

Nico stashes his phone away and mostly forgets about the text.

||||

She checks her phone for about the fifth time during drinks with her friends. She knows what they’re thinking, but they’re not gonna say it.

It’s especially kind of them since Nico hasn’t responded. Even though he’s the type of guy to have read receipts on, so she knows he looked at her message.

Her phone buzzes, she pulls it out of her pocket so fast she fumbles it, dropping it on the bar. Her friend snatches it up and laughs.

“It’s a notification from Postmates, you have coupon.”

Marie feels herself flush, embarrassed to be caught like some kind of junkie waiting for their next hit.

“Jesus Christ, just go get laid! You’re unbearable when you’re wound this tight. It’s not even worth the catch up.”

“Fine, I’ll go, but only because I haven’t had sex in months. See you on my next layover.”

“Unless you’re still jonesing for that Jersey dick!”

“It’s Swiss,” Marie sticks her tongue out.

She waves down a cab, and she should give the address to her hotel, but she’s in some sort of horny fugue state. Why go back and masturbate at her hotel thinking about him when she knows his address?

Before she knows it, she’s at his door fixing her hair and trying to lean seductively against the doorframe. Maybe she’s lost her mojo during her recent dry spell.

She knocks before she loses her nerve.

Marie hears someone lumbering along around on the other side of the door. Nico finally answers the door; shirtless with a pair of gray sweats low on his hips, hair flopping about like he just woke up.

Her mouth goes dry at the familiar sight, or maybe she salivates, or somehow both at the same time. She feels so out of sync with her hormones.

But she knows she wants, scratch that, needs.

“Thought maybe the picture just didn’t do the real thing justice,” she smirks even though she kind of wants to grimace at the cheesy line.

“I was trying to let you down easy,” he’s trying to avoid eye contact.

“Well, here I am, easy and ready to be let down on your bed.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. She can practically see his willpower crumbling piece by piece.

“C’mon, I haven’t been with anyone else since Denver.”

She dares to reach out, running a finger from his collarbone down, down, down, until Nico grabs her wrist.

“Just–“ he yanks her into the apartment, “get in here.”

Marie is flush against his chest now, she smirks, “that’s more like it.”

“Your picture got me in trouble in locker room, the boys think you’re no good for me.”

“Do you want me to be good for you?” She roughly grabs him through his sweatpants.

“I don’t think you could be if you tried,” he ruts against her palm.

She gentles her touch in response, she wants to be good, for Nico at least.

Marie can’t make eye contact now. If she looks up all the guilt of coming here after she promised herself she’d stop will come rushing back. She doesn’t have time for that when she can feel him hardening in her hand.

So, she closes her eyes and kisses him. Lets her tongue explore his mouth. Lets Nico manhandle her towards the bedroom. A path she’s too familiar with even with her eyes closed.

She doesn’t dare open her eyes until she’s flat on her back and hears Nico rummaging in the bedside table. As he comes back up with a condom, Marie works on the too many layers of clothes she’s still wearing.

He rolls on the condom and strokes himself slowly, “Is this you being good?”

Marie spreads her thighs and bites her lip, holding back demands for him to get on with it.

He pushes her legs even farther apart and nearly drapes himself over her. One finger runs up her slit, feeling how slick she is with desperation, he sucks the finger into his mouth and Marie can’t hold on any longer.

“Please, fuck, please,” she grapples for his shoulders anything to anchor her in the moment.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that to push in one go.

“Jesus Christ,” Marie gasps at the sudden intrusion, familiar as it is.

He sets an agonizingly slow pace, making her feel every unbearable movement without getting her any closer to her climax.

“C’mon Nico, give it to me,” she whines and clenches around him, trying to egg him on.

But it doesn’t deter him from his mission to tease her death, maybe it’s punishment for how she’s treated him.

She tries to move her own hips for more friction and still Nico keeps with his slow and steady pace.

Marie grabs his hair and makes him look at her, “I swear to god, if you don’t start really fucking me, I’m gonna explode.”

The evil little smirk he gives her, makes her stomach swoop.

“I knew you couldn’t stay good.”

“If being bad means I’ll have an orgasm, I guess I’m the devil,” she pulls him in for a kiss that’s probably too much tongue and teeth but she doesn’t care.

Then Nico takes her by surprise, flipping her onto all fours in such a fluid movement she already feels closer to coming. And that’s before he starts railing her from behind. The slap of skin and pornographic squelching fills the silence in the room.

Marie has lost all her witty words, can barely get enough air to make noises beyond tiny gasps. Nico knows exactly where to thrust, how to grip her hips, tweak her nipples, reach between her thighs and rub her clit. It’s too much, to have your body read like a book.

She clenches around him when she’s almost over the edge and feels him release, one hand tightening so hard on her hips it might bruise.

He blankets his body over her back, kissing her shoulders while he continues to rub her clit, buried deep inside her.

Her arms give out when she finally comes, her body singing with pleasure. Nico’s weight heavy on her, but she can’t bring herself to move him, it all feels too good.

She doesn’t remember when they move apart, or if they clean up at all, or if she peed afterward, she really hopes she at least did the last one. Still, she’s in hazy bliss before she’s rudely awoken from her dream-like state by her alarm obnoxiously ringing, too loudly at that.

She has to get out of the bed to find her phone her jeans pocket.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” she swears before having to put her clothes back on.

Nico’s alarm starts going off now. He sits up to see Marie half-dressed already.

“Of course,” he sounds so disappointed.

“I have a flight to catch and I still have to get my uniform and pack my suitcase.”

“Sure,” he sighs as he starts to get out of bed himself.

She probably deserves this, scratch that she knows she deserves this, but doesn’t mean she won’t defend herself.

“It’s a 9:30 Newark to DFW, look it up” she knows her shirt is inside out but that’s how late she is as she calls an Uber.

“Thanks for last night,” she gives Nico a quick kiss and leaves before he can respond.

Of course, when the elevator opens, Jack is the one standing on the other side, with an exhausted looking boy next to him. It’s probably his brother, Marie’s brain supplies the small Devils knowledge she has.

“That fucking idiot.”

“I showed up here, the blame is on me,” Marie holds her hands up in surrender.

“But the inside shirt and messed up hair is probably on him.”

“Probably can mostly blame me for that too, I know you want to.”

The look of disgust on his face makes that very clear.

Thankfully, the elevator door opens before the torture can continue.

||||

Marie goes back to rebuilding her resolve. She was trying to quit him cold turkey, not mess up Nico’s perfect little world again. But she couldn’t resist one more hit of her favorite drug.

Still, the universe isn’t making it easy for her to stay sober.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Marie and her coworkers all jump at the exclamation. When she turns around there’s Jack Hughes.

Nico is nowhere to be seen, so Marie is sure she can get away without making much of a scene.

“Of all the hotels in a city with multiple airports…” Jack doesn’t seem amused at her response, “I’m just as surprised as you, sorry the universe is clearly playing a sick joke on us.”

She runs off to her room before she has a chance encounter with Nico. Begs off from dinner plans with her coworkers. Masturbates in the shower in hopes of taking the edge off.

She’s wound up like a rubber band knowing Nico is so close. For all she knows, there’s only a wall separating them right now.

And of course, she gives in, because Marie is a fiend and a rotten person. How can she resist when the world laid it out on a platter like this.

She hopes he’s stronger than her and doesn’t respond, but she texts him regardless: I have it on good authority we’re in the same hotel

Marie can barely put her phone down before she gets a response.

Yeah for someone who doesn’t want me interacting with you Jack was quick to gossip

She can hear his tone through the words, hear his husky laugh at his own joke. Her chest feels like it’s squeezing her heart. Makes her act out of character.

Wanna get dinner or drinks or something?

Marie from a few months ago would be nauseous at this kind of proposition, but her present-self feels like she owes Nico… something different.

So, she finds herself tucked into a corner booth at some restaurant Nico says he’s been to before.

And she laughs at his jokes. Brushes her hand over his. Turns a bit soppy looking into his warm brown eyes.

And she knows she made a mistake.

But still, she holds his hand as they walk back to the hotel; swaying back and forth, a little wine-drunk.

Marie walks him to the door like she’s some sort of gentleman at the end of a first date, they both know the connotations are anything but gentlemanly.

“This was nice,” she smiles up at him.

“If you were still in Jersey, we could have nights like this all the time,”

That should deflate her a bit, but she’s made it too far for it to end here with some serious conversation, so she reaches into his pocket to grab his room key and unlock the door, shoving him into the room.

She kisses him, hard and needy. She desperately wants her lips everywhere. She follows that train down his jaw.

“Clearly you want this kind of thing too, or you wouldn’t come crawling to me anytime we’re in the same place,” his hands are bunching up the skirt of her dress.

She bites down on his neck, a little meaner than she should. But it gets him going enough to throw her onto his bed. Her underwear is gone and a finger is pushing into her before she can make any moves.

A second and third are soon to follow. The pressure from his thumb on her clit is enough to make her throw back her head and enjoy the intoxication.

His other hand cups her jaw, makes her open her eyes and look at him.

“This is all I wanted, but you had to be a brat who let me find out you moved by showing up to your empty apartment,” he stops moving his fingers, stops using any pressure.

“I apologized for that,” she whines, desperate and uncaring.

“Did you?” He crooks his fingers just so.

“I gave you a blow job,” Marie grits out.

He raises his brows while he pulls out, leaving her feeling emptier than ever before.

“Fuck.”

The realization crashes over her harder than any orgasm ever could.

She scrambles off the bed throwing on her underwear and grabbing her phone.

“I’m deleting your number.”

“What?”

“I moved to a city that doesn’t even have a hockey team to stay away from you and that’s not even working.”

“You moved because of me?” The crease between his brow is like a canyon.

“You wanted more and I knew I wasn’t– I’m not in a place to give that to you, but fuck! Whatever I’m doing now– I’m just being cruel, aren’t I?”

“I’m not exactly turning you away.”

“Doesn’t mean I should keep using you,” tears she wasn’t expecting start to well up, “Nico you’re worth a lot more than a quick fuck from a flight attendant who happens to be in the same zip code as you.”

Nico just stares at her and Marie knows she has to be the bigger person here.

“You should block me on everything too, don’t give me a way to weasel my way back in.”

Once she’s dressed, she moves towards Nico, moves a strand of hair off his forehead.

She feels like she should say something meaningful, but this isn’t that kind of relationship; Marie made sure of that when she scorched the earth behind her when she left.

She kisses him one last time and hopes she’ll be able to find her next hit in someone else.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier imagines #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils #new jersey devils story #nj devils #nhl #nhl stories #nhl fic #hockey fics #hockey imagines

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maidstew · 5 months

Note

maybe this is silly but — do you have any thoughts on lucy grays specifically appalachian identity? I often think abt how the films erased the cultural / geographical specificities of district 12 even though it’s literally so so important to the books (it’s mentioned on page 2 of the hunger games) and idk I think it’s very interesting/ kinda funny and iconic that in response to that erasure suzanne collins literally made a character whose cultural identity cannot be erased without significantly altering her narrative function. On a meta textual level it’s also an interesting echo to the Capitol erasing lucy gray and then her being restored by the author - kinda? Idk I’m a huge appalachian folk nerd (it’s why I read tbosas lol) so I. Think abt it a lot

omg no this is not silly at all and i am so excited that someone wants to talk about Appalachian culture in the hunger games!! usually i feel like i’m just yelling my appalachian nonsense into the void. ps i love that you’re an appalachian folk nerd- are you also appalachian??

also let me apologize in advance- i started a new anxiety medicine and have felt awful and have had a lot of brain fog so it’s very possible that none of this makes sense or is even what you’re asking.

i ended up rambling a lot so i will put my actual answer under the cut:

the erasure of all the really appalachian things- especially the accents- in the trilogy will always devastate me. which i why i will go to my death defending rachel zegler against anyone who criticizes her accent in tbosas.

i love lucy gray and the covey because you absolutely can see so much appalachian and bluegrass influence in them and their lives- but the book makes it clear that they aren’t really district 12, therefore, not really appalachian.

i think in a lot of ways lucy gray really embodies an appalachian girl. she’s fun and strong and willing to do whatever it takes to survive. she’s not afraid of the woods or the creatures in it- she makes friends with the snakes. she loves music (my girl needs a banjo i will die on that hill) and brings that to her people. their performances are one of the few times that people in 12 really get to be carefree and have fun and it brings everyone together. music is such an important thing in appalachian culture and is something that always brings people together.

she as a double name and it’s important to address her using both- which is also a fairly common thing in appalachian culture, it’s rude to only refer to them by one of the names. (which is why if someone only calls her lucy i do not take their opinion on her character seriously at all.)

you can also see it in the way the covey are a family without all being really related and the way the older members take care of the younger ones. in the way they spend time at the lake fishing and swimming and collecting food from around the area to eat. in the clothes they wear. in their music (nothing you can take from me boot stomping version my beloved).

but i think the distraction that they aren’t really from district 12 and not really appalachian is important. you can see that in the way lucy gray describes the covey as outsiders in district 12. i think this is another way that you really see the influence of appalachian culture in district 12. it doesn’t matter how many similar traits that they have or how long they have lived there- they’re still outsiders to the people who have lived there their whole lives. they still aren’t fully trusted by the wider community because they’re different and not from around here.

i’ll stop rambling now because i think my brain fog is causing this to not make any sense but anyway thank you so much for sending this!!! i love talking about this!!! i would love to hear your thoughts as well

#thank you so so so much for sending this!!!#asks #i love talking about appalachian culture in the hunger games #i love u for this #i’m sorry if it makes no sense blame the medicine #but please feel free to tell me your own thoughts i would love to hear them!!#lucy gray baird #the covey #appalachia #appalachian nonsense

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ambivalens999 · 7 months

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hiii hello i have been binging masks over the last couple days as i get back into naruto and can i just say that if you ever released an actual book i would be ALL over that, i love the way you take the inherent darkness of the series that is never really addressed and just go all in it's so satisfying to read and witness a sakura who gets to be just as strong and even stronger as the other boys!! it makes me so happy as a sakura super-fan who was always sad that she didnt get to have her moment -- it feels so cathartic and amazing, i'm only 2/3rds of the way through so far but im loving how they're all together again on one team, i will imagine whatever happens next to be canon no matter how sad or happy it is :)) (crossing my fingers for happy but i love it enough that i can handle anything 💪)

all that aside-- im wondering what your thoughts on sasusaku are? i think you mentioned in an author's note that you might write sasusaku & this isn't to pressure you or anything!! im just wondering how you feel about it? its one of my absolute favorite ships & your take on it would probably be amazing !! :) <3 take care!!

Aw, thank you so much for sending some love @sangomilk. I'm so glad you've been enjoying Masks! I hope the last 1/3 lived up to your expectations too! 😅

Wow! Sasusaku! I will say that when I was writing Masks (and that author's note), I was in a wondrous period of unprecedented, prolific output. I had a decent amount of time on my hands, and the muses were singing to me. At the time, I adored the challenge of writing rare-pairs as well as popular ships I had historically not bought into (the task being effectively similar to me to writing a rare pair). Something like: how can I bend, contort, re-frame, manipulate, etc. these characters to connect, in a way that readers find plausible, exciting, new, but also maybe somewhat believable...? My imagination was truly thriving lol.

Sasusaku did aggravate the fuck out of me in canon, but that only made the prospect of taking it on in a one-shot exhilarating to me--it still is for the same reasons! To be honest, though, my HP fic is taking up all of my brain space right now, and I still have some other ongoing stories I need to tend to eventually (mirage!). If I do attempt something, it will almost certainly occur in offshoots, and it will take some time.

In the meantime, do let me know if you know have any sasusaku recs <3 And, also, SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO RESPOND 😭

#masks #naruto #haruno sakura #sakura haruno #q&a #naruto shippuden #sasusaku #?

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year

Text

A Spellbinding Wedding (Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

Summary: (Y/N) and Loki’s big day has finally arrived, but will mischief and superhero shenanigans succeed in derailing the happiest day of their lives?

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 10.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Almost 11k words of pure, tooth-rotting fluff lol

A/N: We’ve finally arrived at the wedding of Loki and the Cosmic Sorceress! If you haven't already, I recommend checking out the Spellbinding Playlist; I added a bunch of wedding/romantic songs I imagine they'd choose for their special day and they're all great, so go ahead and give it a listen!Thank you all so much for reading and for waiting like six months for this thing lol, and I hope that you enjoy!

A Spellbinding Wedding October 8th, 2016 Stark Mansion New York City, New York (Previous One-Shot)

“So, (Y/L/N), in just a few short hours you’re gonna be officially – pause for dramatic effect – off the market! Can you tell us what exactly’s going through the beautiful bride’s head right now?”

(Y/N) briefly paused her mascara application and pretended to ponder Clint’s overly-exaggerated question. “Whether or not it would be rude of me to drop that camcorder through a portal to Muspelheim and lock you in the basement until after the ceremony.”

The archer snickered before jumping up to sit on the dresser behind her and turning the camcorder around to directly address the camera. “As you can see, your mom gets a little cranky when she has to wake up early. Not sure if that’ll go away in the future or just get worse, so…either way, good luck with that, kiddos!”

“When you volunteered to film the ceremony and parts of the reception for us, I really should’ve questioned it more.” (Y/N) resumed applying her mascara while fighting back a smile. “At least any future children of ours will watch this, see just how ridiculous their Uncle Clint is and know that we weren’t exaggerating. Oh! Speaking of children, are Peter’s friends here yet? Tony was supposed to send Happy into Queens to pick them up an hour ago, but I haven’t heard anything about them since.”

“Yeah, they’re all hanging out in the old lab downstairs and Tony’s helping ‘em prep their sound equipment as we speak; you and Loki do know that there’s literally thousands of professional DJ’s living in New York you could’ve hired to run your wedding reception that aren’t sixteen and can actually drive themselves to their venues, right?”

“Says the friend of ours who practically begged to be the videographer even though he’s a professional archer by trade…” She mumbled under her breath, twisting the mascara wand back into its tube just as someone knocked on her suite’s door. “Come in!”

The door opened and Natasha popped her head into the room, her long red hair still wrapped in curlers, a clipboard in her hands and a comm link secured in her ear. The spy was taking her many duties as Matron of Honor very seriously, treating the day’s celebration as if it were a highly-classified mission and not a mid-sized wedding located at Tony’s family mansion; each of their teammates had been assigned specific duties and responsibilities and throughout the morning, Natasha regularly checked in with them to ensure that their tasks were going smoothly, which explained why she was shooting Clint the trademark glare she normally reserved for Hydra agents and invading aliens. “Last I checked, Barton, you’re supposed to be overseeing the florists in the garden and not raising the bride’s blood pressure right before the wedding.”

Clint jumped down from the dresser and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, no need to go all Black Widow on me, Tasha.” He crossed the room and pressed a chaste kiss onto (Y/N)’s cheek before winking at her through the vanity’s mirror. “I’ll see you at the altar, (Y/L/N)!”

Natasha gave the archer one final glare as he hurried out of the suite while whistling ‘Chapel of Love’ and shook her head when the door closed behind him. “I swear, I’m gonna have to start using my Widow Bites on these people if they don’t start being more helpful…” The spy turned her attention to (Y/N) and her concentrated frown morphed into a smile. “Aw (Y/N), you look stunning and you haven’t even put on your dress yet! I’m serious, it’s like you’re glowing or-” She cut herself off and held a hand up to her ear to listen to a voice in her comm. “Wait a sec, Bruce says that the caterers just arrived. Did you want me to get you anything before I check in on them?”

“Is it too early in the day for a glass of champagne?”

“Not if there’s a splash of orange juice in it,” Natasha answered with a mischievous grin. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

The door closed behind the spy and for the first time that morning, the room fell silent. (Y/N) sat back in her seat and let out a sigh of relief; she loved her friends and teammates dearly, of course, but all she wanted to do was prepare for the wedding in peace and with as little stress as possible. The wedding was slightly larger than they’d originally anticipated, with over a hundred guests from Midgard, Asgard and Alfheim all gathered together at one of Tony Stark’s family mansions in the heart of New York City, and with the ink still drying on the three realms’ fledgling peace treaties, handling the guests and ensuring that they remain peaceful would be a difficult task to carry out on a day already filled to the brim with difficult tasks. So far, her friends were doing an excellent job with ensuring that everything was running smoothly but after living the life of a superhero for over a year, she knew just how quickly a situation could shift from calm to catastrophic.

“I wonder of Loki’s feeling just as anxious about all this as I am,” (Y/N) murmured to herself, giving the photograph of her soon-to-be husband she’d tucked into the edge of her vanity’s mirror a smile before setting her sights on her un-styled hair, hoping that the intricate task would serve to distract her from the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

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“Brother, what exactly is this gloopy green substance?”

“It’s an avocado and green tea mud mask.”

“…And why have we applied it to our faces?”

“It removes impurities from the skin while unclogging pores and absorbing excess oil.” Before Thor had a chance to ask another question, Loki brusquely continued. “Yes, it’s meant to relax you and no, you cannot eat it.”

Instead of becoming annoyed by Loki’s shortness, his brother chuckled. “In that case, these mud masks must be defective because you’re anything but relaxed, brother.” With a defeated sigh, Loki removed the cucumber slices resting on his eyelids and sat up, tossing the slices into the nearby trashcan and making his way into the suite’s bathroom to wash the half-dried mud mask off; he was halfway done when Thor entered and leaned against the door-frame, a look of concern visible even beneath his own thick mud mask. “Loki, are you all right? You haven’t been yourself all morning, and it’s beginning to worry me. You’re not having second thoughts about the wedding, are you?”

“No! No, of course not,” Loki emphatically shook his head. “I’ve been waiting for this day for quite a long time, believe me, but I…well, it’s an awfully significant life change, isn’t it? I know that what I’m feeling is only a natural reaction to such a change, of course, but a part of me can’t help but wonder if I’m even deserving of this life I’m about to embark on with (Y/N).”

His brother nodded in understanding. “I believe that Wilson refers to them as intrusive thoughts; unwelcome, involuntary thoughts with no basis in truth or fact that can manifest as a result of several forms of trauma.” When Loki raised his brows in surprise, Thor sighed and rolled his eyes in mild exasperation. “Believe it or not, brother, I do listen to what others say when they’re around me. The important point to be made is that they’re wrong; as your designated Best Man, it’s my duty to ease these irrational worries of yours and I believe that I have just the thing!”

Thor disappeared into the bedroom and quickly returned with an ornate bottle and two glasses, and Loki’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the familiar flagon. “That’s one of Asgard’s last remaining bottles of the great Hoder’s spiced mead. It’s to be drunk on the most special of occasions and only with the Allfather’s express permission…”

“I took a page out of your book and simply borrowed a bottle on my way out of the palace.” The older man grinned proudly at his uncharacteristic act of subterfuge and Loki couldn’t help but chuckle. “The Allfather might not agree, but my brother’s wedding and all the happiness it will surely bring him is a special occasion.”

As Loki’s throat burned and he fought back the sudden tears brought on by his brother’s support, he watched as Thor poured the amber-colored liquid out into the two glasses and pressed one into his hand, the corner of his mouth curving upwards while he raised the glass. “Well then, to happiness.”

“To happiness,” Thor echoed, and the two brothers clinked their glasses together before downing the spiced mead in one go. “Another!”

There was a gentle knock on the suite’s door and Frigga’s voice called out, “Loki? Thor?”

“Oh, Hel!”

Both men scrambled to hide the evidence of their treasonous transgression, shoving the spiced mead and glasses unceremoniously under the sink and rushing out of the bathroom to open the door for their mother; the Queen of Asgard was dressed spectacularly in a pale turquoise dress and matching wide-brimmed hat, looking just as elegant in Midgardian clothing as she always did on Asgard. Frigga was beaming as she stepped into the suite and reached up to hold Loki’s face between her hands. “Oh, I can hardly believe that my darling little one is getting married today, and to such a wonderful young woman as well! How are you feeling, Loki? Have you eaten anything at all?”

“I’m fine, Mother, just a little anxious.” Loki matched her infectious smile with one of his own. “After all, it’s not every day that three realms of the cosmos come together to celebrate a wedding.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about, because your brother and your friends are doing such an excellent job at keeping everything running smoothly.” Frigga gave them both a knowing look. “Perhaps another glass of Hoder’s spiced mead will soothe your nerves? Now, be a dear and make mine a double, please.”

Loki and Thor exchanged a wide-eyed look of surprise as their mother crossed the suite and began brushing the stray pieces of lint off their suit jackets hanging near the window, humming a cheerful tune to herself as she did.

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Pulling back to admire her handiwork, (Y/N) smiled brightly and twirled Cassie’s chair around to face her vanity’s mirror. “There, all finished! What do you think, Cassie?”

Their flower girl-slash-ring bearer squealed in joy and turned to her with the widest smile on her glittering face. “It’s so pretty! I love it!” She threw her arms around her middle and tightly hugged her. “Do I look like a fairy from Alf…Alf…?”

“Alfheim? I’m not sure, actually, I’ve never seen a fairy there before.” Shrugging, (Y/N) glanced over at Elora, who was preoccupied with unzipping the large garment bag containing her wedding dress. “Elora has, though! Haven’t you, Elora?”

The General of the Alfheimian Army looked up from her task with a small shudder. “Unfortunately. The little beasts possess needle-sharp teeth and use their woodland magic to mask their presence right before viciously attacking any who dare trespass into their domain.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm but before she could chastise the Alfheimian for her bluntness, Cassie clapped her hands together and let out a delighted laugh. “That is so cool!”

A knock on her suite’s door drew (Y/N) away from Elora and Cassie’s animated discussion of the various magical beasts that lived on Alfheim, and she opened the door to reveal Sam and Bucky; both men were already dressed in their suits, minus their floral boutonnieres, but her calm demeanor vanished when she caught sight of the panicked expressions they were desperately trying to mask. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, doll-”

“Yeah, everything’s goin’ according to plan, (Y/L/N), promise-”

“Nat had us come up here to…um…”

“To see if you needed any help with…anything.”

She arched an unimpressed brow that almost instantly silenced both men. “Do I really have to ask you two again?”

“…Scott lost the wedding rings!” (Y/N)’s jaw dropped and Bucky let out an indignant noise as Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Buck, but she’s got the same death glare my mom used to give me! Yeah, Scott put the rings down and now he can’t find them anywhere, and he can’t even use the ants to help ‘cause he didn’t bring his suit along.”

The super soldier hastily added, “Nat’s trying her best to jog his memory, but…well, you know Nat. I think she might end up making the poor guy faint before finding out where he might’ve lost the rings.”

“Okay, okay…” Rubbing her temples in an attempt to quell the rapidly-growing headache, (Y/N) took a steadying breath and forced herself to remain calm as she began formulating a plan. “All right, my hair and makeup’s already done, so let me find some slippers and we’ll go find Nat and Scott. I might be able to use my Alf Seidr to try and find them-” Both Sam and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “-But not a word of this to Loki, okay? The last thing he needs today is any added stress…”

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Arching a curious brow, Loki examined the items laid out on the coffee table before glancing up at his teammates. “This is a Midgardian tradition? It seems a little silly that these random objects can determine the outcome of a marriage.”

“Yeah, it’s a good luck thing here on Earth, Lokes, like that old Saints jersey Sam wears during every football season.” Clint held up the camcorder and pointed the lens at Loki as he continued. “Your dad’s a pretty smart guy, kiddos, but don’t let that fool you; he once thought your mom was dying when she was only having a little brain freeze. Remember, Lokes?”

“Children, if you’ve ever wondered why your mother once attempted to hit your dear Uncle Clint over the head with a coffee-table book, then now you know,” Loki snickered as the archer flushed pink and rolled his eyes.

A reluctant smile played on Steve’s lips while he finished fastening his cuff-links across the suite. “I hate to say it, but Barton’s right about it being good luck here. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.’ Your mother gifted you a set of cloak clasps for today so that’s your ‘something old,’ your tuxedo counts as your ‘something new,’ Tony’s lending you one of his nicer Rolex watches for your ‘something borrowed,’ and your ‘something blue’ are the navy blue suspenders you’re wearing.”

Loki hummed in interest. “I suppose that a little extra luck wouldn’t go amiss…”

Just as he slipped the borrowed Rolex onto his wrist, a visibly panicked Thor burst into the suite and made a bee-line to Steve. “Captain Rogers, there’s an urgent matter that I must speak to you about!”

“If it’s that Tony wrote a borderline explicit speech to read at the reception, then we all know and Nat already took care of-”

“No, no, it’s not that, but we really should discuss this matter out in the hall-”

“What is it, Thor?” Loki asked, tilting his head in confusion as he took in his brother’s unusually pale face and arching a disapproving brow when he proceeded to badly explain away his concern. “Brother, surely you haven’t forgotten that I’m the God of Lies? Whatever it is, I’m sure that we’ll be able to handle it before the ceremony begins.”

Thor swallowed and anxiously bit his lip before blurting out, “A wizard is currently battling a space worm out on the lawn.”

“What?!” Loki, Steve and Clint all exclaimed in unison.

“It just appeared out of nowhere and started wreaking havoc across the grounds, but then a wizard stepped out of a portal and started fighting it! Stark and Rhodes are already on their way to help but it seems that the beast is indestructible!”

With his jaw clenched tight in mounting agitation, Loki stood from his seat and summoned his emerald-green magic. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” A shimmer of light enveloped his body and in the blink of an eye, his wedding attire morphed into his Asgardian battle armor and daggers appeared in his grasp. “The beast and this so-called wizard will soon regret the very moment they dared to step foot on this property.”

Steve shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and reached for the red, white and blue shield propped up beside one of the suite’s armchair. “Barton, keep the caterers and florists away from the lawn, and make sure the guests stay inside and away from the windows.”

“On it.”

“And not a word of this to (Y/N), all right?” All three men nodded in agreement and Loki’s grip tightened around the hilts of his daggers. “The last thing she needs today is any added stress…”

As the trio of men hurried outside, a part of Loki wondered if he’d been tricked into believing that a cosmic monster was in the process of battling a sorcerer and that it was all some sort of elaborate prank concocted by his brother and friends to ease his pre-wedding jitters. However, that spark of hope was quickly extinguished when Steve threw the back door open and was forced to jump back to avoid being struck by Rhodes’ flailing body falling from the sky.

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel that one for a couple of days,” Rhodes groaned in pain and allowed Steve to hoist his armor-clad body to his feet. “Either of you guys wanna tell me what an ugly-ass space worm is doing here in New York? ‘Cause it’s definitely not here to wish the bride and groom its best!”

The familiar sound of repulsor blasts intermingled with the booming roars caused all four men to turn and watch as Tony darted around the tentacles of an enormous pink creature and a dark-haired man wearing a burgundy cape conjured orange-hued magic to counter its vicious attacks. “Earth has second-rate sorcerers now, how delightful…” Loki rolled his eyes and turned to the others. “It’s an Abilisk, a cosmic creature that feeds off significantly-sized energy sources, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if that cheap magician down there summoned it here out of pure incompetency.”

“Let’s deal with the Abilisk first, brother, and then we’ll confront the wizard later!” With a burst of lightning, Thor flew off towards the enraged creature and attempted to slam Mjolnir against its skull, but he was quickly swatted aside by one of its flailing tentacles.

Loki and Steve exchanged a look with Rhodes before joining the battle; the Air Force colonel attempted to shoot it with one of his suit’s many guns but was unsuccessful due to the creature’s impenetrable hide and no matter how twisted its own tentacles became due to the super soldier’s impressive athleticism, the beast remained standing and overwhelmingly angry. After throwing a handful of emerald-green magic at a tentacle to stop it from slamming into Steve’s back, Loki looked over to see the bearded sorcerer performing a spell nearby. “Care to introduce yourself and explain why you’ve brought an Abilisk to my wedding?” He yelled over the creature’s deafening roars.

“My name’s Doctor Stephen Strange, I’m a Master of the Mystic Arts, the guardian of the New York Sanctum in Greenwich Village and I most certainly did not summon an Abilisk here!” The sorcerer shouted back as he threw two semi-circular protective shields at the Abilisk’s face, where they exploded on impact and disoriented the enraged creature further. “Someone here at this mansion opened an inter-dimensional portal and let this creature come through, and as soon I arrived to send it back, my sling-ring was stolen from me by an unchecked summoning spell!”

“Sling-ring?”

“Yes, it’s what allows me to channel the magic needed to open inter-dimensional portals between any two points within the universe and without it, I can’t send the Abilisk back to where it came from!”

Loki was quickly filled with a sneaking suspicion about the whereabouts of the sorcerer’s sling-ring, but he prayed to the Norns that he was wrong as he called out to the others, “Does anyone here have access to Romanoff’s comm link? I think she may be able to shed some much-needed light on the situation!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air around (Y/N) crackled and hummed with magical energy as she used her Alf Seidr to sense her surroundings and a familiar tugging sensation in her stomach preceded a strange weight in her outstretched left hand. She opened her eyes and her excitement instantly turned to annoyance when she was met with the sight of yet another unfamiliar ring; the one resting on her open palm looked different from the rest, almost reminding her of a pair of brass knuckles but with strange etchings across its bronzed surface. “Well, this definitely isn’t what I’m seeking…” She tossed the object into the basket of other rings she’d inadvertently summoned while searching for the lost wedding rings and sighed. “Do any of you have any bright ideas?”

Scott, Natasha, Sam and Bucky all shook their heads from their spots across the laboratory, and the ex-convict was the first to speak. “I-I’m really, really sorry about this, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Scott, I know you didn’t mean to lose the rings…” (Y/N) rubbed her temple in an effort to quell her raging stress-induced headache as she considered what to do next. “I’ll just have to try the spell again, then maybe it will-”

“Tony?” They all looked over to see a frowning Natasha listening to her comm link. “Okay, slow down, I can’t hear what you’re…wait, what wizard ring? Yeah, Scott lost the rings and (Y/N)’s been using her magic to try and find ‘em, but…” The spy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped at whatever the billionaire was saying through the comm. “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) frowned. “What is it, Nat?”

Before Natasha could answer, the wall nearest to (Y/N) suddenly exploded and she had just enough time to summon a protective bubble of magic to encase them as chunks of stone and debris began raining down. The dust was beginning to settle when she flicked her wrists to remove the shield, her brows rising in surprise as she recognized her future brother-in-law extricating himself from the rubble. Thor’s blue eyes widened comically when he spotted her standing before him and he swallowed nervously before giving her a small wave. “H-Hello, Lady (Y/N). Shouldn’t you be off preparing for the ceremony?”

“What’s going on, Thor?”

“Nothing, nothing, just an intense arm-wrestling match with your delightful Alfheimian friends; for one so small, Myriani has quite the arm!”

“Thor.”

Natasha stepped forward and gestured towards the comm link in her ear. “According to Tony, there’s a giant space worm wreaking havoc on the lawn that you unintentionally summoned here with your Alf Seidr, and the only person who can get rid of it is a wizard-doctor who lives in Greenwich Village but you accidentally stole his magic ring.”

“God, just put me back in the damn ice…” Bucky groaned as he dropped his head into his vibranium hand.

Sam reached into the basket of rings and withdrew the odd-looking shape made of engraved brass. “I’m no expert on wizards, (Y/L/N), but this kinda looks like it could be magical to me.”

(Y/N) took the ring from Sam and with a wave of her hand, she transformed her silk robe and slippers into her Cosmic Sorceress uniform and marched through the hole in the laboratory wall. There was indeed a towering pink-skinned creature flailing its many tentacles as her friends and teammates fought their hardest against it; Tony and Rhodey were firing their suit’s repulsors and dodging its tentacles in the air while Steve, Loki and an odd-looking man wearing a red cloak tried all they could to draw the creature’s attention away from the mansion. Ignoring the guilt beginning to eat away at her, (Y/N) strode across the lawn and called out over the deafening roars, “Doctor, catch!”

The wizard-doctor looked over and raised his hand just in time to catch his ring, quickly slipping it into his fingers and rotating his hands in a circular motion to create a sparking orange portal directly beneath the creature; it released a final roar as it dropped down into the portal and disappeared, leaving the grounds of Stark Mansion silent. The stranger closed the portal he’d opened and breathed a sigh of relief before setting his sights on an embarrassed (Y/N). “Your royal highness, would you care to explain what’s going on and why you took my sling ring?”

(Y/N) fidgeted with her finger-less gloves and attempted to smile, but it appeared as more of a grimace. “First of all, I’m very sorry for all the trouble this has caused you, Doctor…”

“Strange. Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts and the guardian of the New York Sanctum.” They shook hands and she silently took note of the unique magical energy radiating from him. “You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N), former trainee librarian turned Cosmic Sorceress, the Crown Princess of Alfheim, daughter of the Alfheimian Layeia Tilasdottir and the very-human David (Y/L/N), descendant of the esteemed Lady Astrid, designated representative between the Light Elves and the Nine Realms of the cosmos, and the Defender of the Realm of Alfheim.”

Taking a step back, (Y/N) arched a questioning brow and fought the sudden urge to summon her magic or even her sword. “For someone I’ve never met, you certainly know an awful lot about me.”

Doctor Strange shrugged. “I make it my business to keep an eye on beings that pose the largest threats to this world and I have to say, you’re quite high on my list.”

“Well, like I was saying, Doctor, all of this has a very simple if not embarrassing explanation-”

“(Y/N)!” They both turned to see Loki and their friends hurrying towards them; their tuxedos were covered in grass stains and an odd multicolored slime, and her fiancé’s emerald-green eyes were filled with worry as he gently held her shoulders and leaned down to meet her gaze. “Darling, are you all right? What happened?”

As the rest of their friends and even some of their guests began making their way across the lawn, (Y/N)’s embarrassment grew and she brought a hand up to partially hide her face. “Scott misplaced the rings and I thought I could use my magic to find them, but my anxiety must’ve led to me opening a portal and then the strength of my spell accidentally took Doctor Strange’s sling ring, and…well, you know the rest. I still have no idea why I wasn’t able to summon our rings; it’s almost as if something was blocking my magic…” Loki paled at her words and it was (Y/N)’s turn to be concerned. “Loki?”

“This situation, um…it may not entirely be your fault, darling.” Her fiancé chuckled awkwardly and rubbed his neck as he glanced over at where Scott, his girlfriend Hope Van Dyne and Cassie were all standing near Elora. “You see, I assumed that Lang might misplace the rings so before I started getting ready, I placed an enchantment on them and as an added precaution, I instructed Barton to give Lang an empty ring box and give the real ones to-”

“Hey, guys! Cassie had the rings the whole time!" Scott shouted and gave a giggling Cassie a celebratory fist-bump. “Either my little peanut’s becoming a better thief than her old man, or someone didn’t trust me with ‘em in the first place. Probably the second one, huh?”

With an incredulous laugh, (Y/N) allowed a chuckling Loki to pull her into his arms and shook her head in disbelief. “Does that mean we ruined our own wedding?”

“My dear, you both haven’t ruined a single thing,” Frigga reassured her as she walked up to them and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Your friends and guests are still here, all of them safe and unharmed, and the sun is shining brightly in the sky. Why shouldn’t your wedding continue as planned?”

A stern-looking Doctor Strange raised a hand and answered, “Because Miss (Y/L/N) here nearly caused the destruction of New York with her unchecked magic and a mass hysteria the likes of which hasn’t been seen since his invasion. Such an act, even one as accidental as you claim this one to be, cannot go unexamined and unpunished.”

(Y/N) bit her lip while Loki rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to counter his words, but his mother’s hand on his arm silenced him as she turned to Doctor Strange with a brilliant smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Doctor Stephen Strange of Midgard; I am Frigga, the Queen of Asgard and mother to Loki and Thor. My dear future daughter-in-law has recently obtained an extraordinary amount of Alf Seidr that she’s still training to control and seeing as today’s her long-awaited wedding day, it’s quite understandable that her focus was shaken.” Frigga sympathetically rubbed (Y/N)’s back and took a moment to adjust her uniform’s purple-hued tiara before returning her attention to the sorcerer. “Now, I’m sure that a highly-skilled Master of the Mystic Arts such as yourself would be honored to utilize the Time Stone hanging around your neck and repair the damage caused by the creature, so as to ease Lady (Y/N)’s frazzled nerves and prevent any other unfortunate accidents from occurring.”

Doctor Strange blinked in surprise. “Um…”

“For your valiant defense of this realm, Asgard recognizes you as one of its trusted allies and speaking as the mother of the groom, I would personally be honored if you joined us for today’s celebration of Loki and Lady (Y/N)’s nuptials.”

“That’s, um…thank you, Queen Frigga, for extending an invitation to me…I-I’d be honored to attend…” The sorcerer’s cheeks flushed pink and he tried his hardest to avoid making eye-contact with the beautiful goddess in front of him. “I’ll start on the repairs right away…”

While a flushed Doctor Strange started using the power of the Time Stone to reverse the damages to their friends’ tuxedos first, (Y/N) turned to look between Frigga and Loki as her stunned expression morphed into a grin. “You really did inherit your Silvertongue from your mother, didn’t you?”

“So it would seem,” Loki replied and leaned down to press a kiss onto his mother’s cheek. “Thank you for intervening on our behalf, Mother.”

Frigga’s blue eyes twinkled with some mischief of her own as she gave them a conspiratorial wink. “Of course, little one. I was raised by witches who taught me many invaluable lessons, among which was that diplomacy and deceit are two sides of the very same coin.”

After the Queen of Asgard went to supervise the sorcerer as he repaired the lawn and floral arrangements surrounding the white gazebo that they’d soon exchange their vows within, (Y/N) spotted Clint filming the aftermath of the battle and giggled. “This’ll be a fun memory to share with our future children: How Mom and Dad’s magical shenanigans nearly wrecked their own wedding.”

Loki laughed. “After listening to Stark read me an online article chronicling several common wedding day horrors, ours was relatively tame by comparison.” He gave her forehead a lingering kiss before meeting her gaze with a tender smile. “Are you ready to get married, my love?”

“More than ready, sweetheart.” (Y/N) slipped her hand into her fiancé’s and swung their arms as they made their way into the mansion to finish getting ready for their wedding ceremony.

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An hour and over a dozen magical repairs later, Loki and Thor stood outside on the mansion’s veranda with Cassie Lang, keeping the flower girl-slash-ring bearer entertained and patiently waiting for (Y/N) and Natasha to finish their last-minute preparations so the ceremony could begin.

The guests were all seated and talking amongst themselves while they enjoyed the late afternoon sunlight breaking through the fluffy white clouds; the only people not seated in the rows of benches were General Elora – who would be officiating the ceremony, as it mainly drew from ancient Alfheimian customs – and Peter, MJ and Ned; the young woman graciously volunteered to play the guitar while they walked down the aisle, and her two best friends were keeping her company as she perched herself on a wooden stool beside the gazebo’s steps. Floral arrangements comprised of green and lavender Dahlias and branches of fern lined the aisle and hung gracefully off the ends of the sculpted wooden benches, while vines of green ivy and lilacs wrapped around the gazebo’s posts and railing. The interior of the gazebo was illuminated with dozens of twinkling fairy lights that were set to brighten as the sun started to set, and lanterns of battery-powered candles hung from each nearby bush and tree.

Embracing a mixture of Asgardian and Midgardian traditions, Loki was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo with an emerald-green cloak fastened to his jacket by the engraved golden clasps his mother gifted him, and he wore a floral crown of blooming laurels and leaves. On Asgard, one’s future spouse chose the flowers that best represented their intended and after much deliberation, (Y/N) picked the laurel for its many symbolic meanings; the laurel symbolized nobility, intelligence and an acknowledgement of the new phase he was entering by marrying her. Quite a flattering choice on her part, he thought with a reserved smile as he conjured another tiny burst of fireworks for Cassie’s amusement.

“Perhaps one day, young Cassie, my brother will show you how he can transform into any animal one could imagine,” Thor remarked to Cassie as he took a moment to readjust his green pocket-square.

The little girl’s eyes widened in amazement and she quickly turned to face Loki. “Can you turn into an ant?!”

Loki blinked in surprise as Thor stifled a chuckle behind his hand. “Um, well…now that you mention it, I haven’t actually tried.”

“Oh. I like ants. The ones that my daddy works with are really nice!”

Watching Cassie suddenly switch from talking about ants to twirling around in her soft green dress, a part of Loki hoped that his and (Y/N)’s future children shared the little girl’s quirky enthusiasm and unapologetic sense of wonder. The sound of the veranda’s glass door opening caused Loki to turn around and when he did, he was met with the jaw-dropping sight of his fiancée. (Y/N)’s off-white wedding dress – impeccably designed for her by Luke Jacobson – was relatively simplistic, with a fitted bust that cinched at the waist and flared out into a flowing skirt that reached the floor, but what elevated the entire look from simplistic to enchanting were its unique details; a lace overlay of hand-sewn floral designs was fastened onto the bust, branching out into fluttering sleeves that hung down to her biceps, and the only jewelry she wore besides her engagement ring was a delicate pair of pearl earrings she inherited from her late aunt. Her hair was arranged into one of her favorite styles and on the top of her head, she wore a floral crown comprised of white Camellia blooms; he’d picked them for her because they symbolized admiration, respect and everlasting love and devotion. A veil of lace-trimmed white chiffon was attached to the back of the floral crown, hanging gracefully down her back and barely brushing the floor. The finishing touch was the bouquet she was clutching in her hands; it was comprised of laurel, white Camellia blooms, lavender and lilac-colored roses and dusty green foliage.

“Darling…” Loki approached her almost reverently and stood before her with a dazed smile on his face. “I truly am the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms, to find myself marrying such an ethereal goddess as you.”

(Y/N) shyly ducked her head before reaching a hand up to straighten one of his cloak clasps. “You must be a mind-reader, then, because I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

His lips chastely caressed her knuckles as Natasha stepped onto the veranda with a small basket of multicolored flower petals and a small bouquet of her own; the Matron of Honor was dressed in a simple lilac-colored gown, with her long red curls pinned up in an elegant style by a single white Dahlia and glittering silver heels on her feet. “Save the kissing for later, lovebirds, we’ve got a wedding ceremony to begin.” Mindful of her gown, the spy bent down and held the basket out for Cassie to take. “Okay, Lang, just like we practiced.”

“I’m on it,” Cassie replied, toothily grinning and giving Natasha a thumbs-up before taking the basket from her and allowing the spy to quickly adjust (Y/N)’s veil.

“Are you two ready?” After Loki and (Y/N) nodded, Natasha held a hand up to her comm link and spoke lowly into it, “All right, kid, let’s do this thing.”

Across the way, MJ nodded and gestured for her friends to take their seats, spending a moment adjusting her guitar’s shoulder strap before beginning to softly play. The guests’ conversations started to dim down and with a nod of confirmation from the spy, Cassie walked across the lawn and started to slowly make her way down the aisle, scattering flower petals along the way while her father beamed with pride from his seat.

Thor leaned down to give (Y/N)’s forehead a chaste kiss and clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness as he allowed Natasha to loop her arm around his. “See you in a minute.”

Natasha winked at them and with that, the Best Man and the Matron of Honor began their walk down the aisle; when they ascended the gazebo’s steps and took their respective places, (Y/N) slipped her hand into Loki’s and he squeezed it tight as they crossed the lawn to stand at the end of the aisle. Once the guests all stood and turned to face them, Loki and (Y/N) exchanged a smile before starting down the aisle hand-in-hand; long before they knew it was Alfheimian tradition that the bride and groom walk themselves down the aisle on their wedding day, (Y/N) pointed out that since they’d both be entering into marriage with one another, it only made sense that they’d choose to walk down the aisle together.

While they slowly walked down the aisle as MJ played a gentle love ballad on her guitar, Loki looked out at their friends, teammates and colleagues standing amongst the guests to distract himself from the butterflies beginning to flutter around his stomach. Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Everett Ross and Doctor Helen Cho stood alongside everyone they invited from S.H.I.E.L.D., the director giving them both an approving nod as they passed by; Steven Grant – the quirky man they’d met while on vacation in Egypt and to whom (Y/N) was a devoted pen-pal – stood beside Layla El-Fouley, his alter Marc Spector’s stunning wife, and for the briefest moment, Loki could even see the skeletal figure of Khonshu lingering by one of the distant trees; their new and reluctant friend Doctor Stephen Strange, now dressed in a simple black tuxedo instead of his sorcerer’s robes, stood beside his fellow sorcerer Wong and attempted to not look as uncomfortable as he presumably felt amongst so many superheroes; Peter Parker and Ned Leeds were trying their hardest not to seem too excited to be sharing a row with Doctor Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, and Loki could hear (Y/N) stifle a giggle when the eccentric woman winked and fired finger-guns at them; Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne’s attention was caught between watching Loki and (Y/N) make their way down the aisle and keeping an eye on Cassie standing on the gazebo beside Thor, while Bucky and Sam both smiled widely at them as they passed; Bruce stood beside his cousin Jennifer Walters, who was already flirtatiously eyeing an embarrassed Rhodey standing across the aisle, while Pepper elbowed a snickering Tony; Steve and Clint stood at one of the front rows, the super soldier beaming with happiness and the archer filming their procession with his camcorder.

At the front of Loki’s side of the aisle stood their Asgardian and Alfheimian friends and family. Fandral winked at him and Sif grinned widely as Volstagg toasted them with the chocolate bar he was snacking on and even the ever-stoic Hogun gave them an atypical smile. Queen Amirah of Alfheim stood beside her guards, Hagen and Myriani, and the afternoon sunlight make her blue opal tiara sparkle almost as much as her smile, and at the end of the row stood Frigga, who was dabbing at her tear-filled eyes with a handkerchief as they walked past and ascended the gazebo’s steps.

Elora patiently waited for all the guests to take their seats to begin. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Crown Princess (Y/N) Layeiadottir (Y/L/N) of Alfheim and Midgard and Prince Loki of Asgard, two halves of the same shining soul, in blessed matrimony. Do both parties stand here of your own free will to acknowledge the eternal bond shared by the both of you?”

“We do,” Loki and (Y/N) replied in unison.

“Then you may face one another, join hands and recite your written vows.”

After (Y/N) handed her bouquet over to Natasha and placed her hands in Loki’s, she took a steadying breath before smiling up at him. “Loki. Through all the tears and all the struggles we’ve overcome together, a part of me always knew that we were destined to make it here. My heart was yours the moment I first looked into your beautiful eyes and as I look into them now, I can see every ounce of the passion and devotion I feel for you reflected in them. Sweetheart, you’re my greatest love and the brightest light in my life, and I promise to love and cherish you from here to eternity as your wife.”

Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself not to cry as he started speaking his own vows. “(Y/N). Not a day goes by where I don’t count myself the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms to have the love of someone as utterly magnificent as you. In the beginning of our romance, I feared that you were too good to be true, that I couldn’t possibly be deserving of someone so pure and loving as you are. But here we stand, surrounded by our friends and family, and I feel proud and incredibly blessed to become your husband. My darling, you’re my lover, my best friend and my eternal soulmate. All I am is yours, and here before our friends, our family and the Norns themselves, I vow to be until the end of time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and although Loki’s gaze never left hers, he could hear the sniffles and rustling of Kleenex packages amongst their guests. “(Y/N), do you take Loki to be your husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love him faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

“I do,” (Y/N) vowed and smiled widely up at him.

“Loki, do you take (Y/N) to be your wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love her faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

Loki solemnly nodded as he vowed, “I do.”

“And now, for the rings.”

Cassie nodded, handing one ring to Natasha and the other to Thor before giving her father an excited wave, causing a ripple of giggles through the rows of guests; the spy handed (Y/N) the ring and her eyes flicked between his and the thin band she held as she recited the ceremony’s next words. “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” She slipped the band onto his ring finger to rest above his gold engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

Accepting the ring that his brother handed him, Loki gave (Y/N) another smile before reciting, “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” He slipped the band onto her finger above her sparkling engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

“May these symbols of your devotion serve to always remind you of your everlasting bond.” Elora’s golden-colored eyes were slowly misting over as she spoke, no doubt wishing that (Y/N)’s late mother and father could be there to witness their only child be married. “And now, by the power vested in me by my rank as General of the Alfheimian Army, it is my honor to declare you both married. Go forth and live each day of your lives together to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Beaming with happiness, (Y/N) stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Loki’s in a brief but passionate kiss that he was quick to reciprocate. For one singular blissful moment, everything and everyone around them faded away and they stood alone on the gazebo, sharing a sweet and loving kiss that symbolized their long-awaited unification as husband and wife. The cheering and applause from their guests brought Loki back to reality sooner than he would’ve liked but after reminding himself that they’d have plenty of time to be alone later, he ended their kiss and gave his wife a mischievous smile before scooping her up in his arms and spinning around while she burst into joyous laughter.

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To say that the wedding reception was one of the liveliest parties (Y/N) had ever attended would be an understatement. From the moment they were declared husband and wife, she felt as through she’d been whisked straight into a dream that seemingly had no end to it; once they finished having their wedding photographs taken, they spent a half an hour by themselves in one of Stark Mansion’s many living rooms, enjoying several slices of pizza (and lots of kisses, of course) and taking time to relax for the first time that day while the guests filtered into the ballroom for the reception.

After (Y/N) and Loki snuck into the beautifully-decorated ballroom and made their rounds around the tables to greet their guests as they enjoyed their dinner, the trio of teenagers they’d allowed to be their DJ’s took their places behind their equipment and announced the bride and groom’s first dance as husband and wife; they both had fun watching their guests’ reactions when, instead of some sort of romantic waltz or ballad, they danced along to the fast-paced disco hit ‘You’re The First, The Last, My Everything,’ spinning and twirling so much around the dance floor that (Y/N) was thankful she’d removed her floral crown and veil and that Loki had dressed down to just his black tuxedo.

The guests took to the dance floor once dinner was cleared away and while Loki danced with Frigga, Thor asked (Y/N) for a dance. From there, (Y/N) danced with every member of the Avengers and their off-realm guests to a wide variety of music; she requested Big Band tunes for Steve and Bucky and slower songs for Bruce and the Warrior’s Three, while Tony, Clint and Sam happily danced along with her to some faster pop numbers. Natasha pulled her into a ladies-only group dance with Jane, Darcy, Helen and Maria, and after a brief dance with Everett Ross, (Y/N) had their trio of DJ’s pause the music so she could reveal her surprise for Loki.

“I’d like to start out by thanking you all for being here with us today,” (Y/N) began as she stood before the crowded ballroom. “As I’m sure some of you know, I had a difficult road to recovery after the Battle of Boston. Sam suggested that I take up playing the piano again as a form of musical therapy, but I was hesitant at first; you see, my aunt taught me to play when I was a child and I stopped when she died because I couldn’t enjoy the music without her. Loki…” Her voice momentarily caught in her throat at the unexpected emotions welling up within her, but spotting her husband standing amongst the crowd helped her to steady herself and keep going. “Loki stayed with me every single time I sat myself at the piano. With him by my side, I found the strength to enjoy the music again and slowly but surely, I started to heal. Loki’s always been there for me when I needed him the most, which is why I’d like to dedicate this next song to my new husband.”

Peter and MJ plugged in the last chord as (Y/N) sat down at the electric keyboard they’d set up for her, both teenagers ducking out of the way with a whispered “break a leg!” while she adjusted the microphone and straightened her posture; seeing the curious expression on Loki’s face and the eager anticipation filling his emerald-green eyes, (Y/N) gave him a smile and a little wink before she began to play.

“Sweet, wonderful you, you make me happy with the things you do. Oh, can it be so, this feeling follows me wherever I go. I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” A widening grin played on (Y/N)’s lips as the guests took to the dance floor and started to dance to the spirited Fleetwood Mac tune while she sang. “I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” While the guests continued to dance, Loki approached the electric keyboard she was seated at and watched her fingers fly across the keys with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t, don’t break the spell, it would be different and you know it will. You, you make loving fun, and I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one. You, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…”

When the song finally came to an end, the crowd burst into applause and their three DJ’s were quick to select another pop song that kept everyone out on the dance floor. (Y/N) thanked the teenagers for their help and crossed the makeshift stage to where Loki stood but before she could say anything, his arms were around her and he was dipping her low as his lips captured hers in a reverent kiss; when they were finally forced to separate for air, her husband straightened them both up but kept his arms wound around her waist and gave her a tender grin. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sing, darling, and you sang that beautiful song just for me. Rest assured, I’ll treasure that moment for the rest of my days.”

“Thanks to our archer-turned-videographer, you’ll be able to watch it over and over until you get sick of it,” (Y/N) chuckled as she glanced past Loki to see Clint filming Natasha and Thor reenacting the famous lift from Dirty Dancing to the amazement of the dancers nearest to them.

Loki’s fingers gently took hold of her chin and guided her to look at him, and his love-struck gaze remained trained on hers as he slowly shook his head. “Never, my love. Now, how about a slice of cake and some Asgardian mead?”

Everyone gathered to watch (Y/N) and Loki cut their three-tiered wedding cake with one of his intricate daggers and after they’d indulged in their dessert, four of their grinning and slightly-inebriated teammates took to the makeshift stage; Natasha and Clint’s cheeks were tinged red, Sam’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his bow-tie was missing, and Tony couldn’t contain his giggles as he stepped up to one of the microphones.

“Hey, guys! Great party, huh?” The crowd cheered and Tony nodded in agreement. “Well, you better hold onto your hats ‘cause it’s about to get even greater!”

(Y/N), who was standing beside Loki and catching up with both Pepper and Helen, looked over at her husband with eyes widened in horror. “He’s not about to give a speech, is he?”

“Not if he doesn’t wanna spend tonight sleeping on the couch,” The CEO replied before taking another sip of her champagne. “Trust me, he and I already had a lengthy discussion about what constitutes as appropriate wedding reception behavior.”

“In my experience, Mr. Stark tends not to retain information told to him in less than three sentences or in any tone other than pleasant.” The world-renowned geneticist let out a long-suffering sigh and watched the four Avengers setting up several more microphone stands. “Hence why he’s permanently banned from my laboratory.”

While Pepper gave Helen an understanding nod, Loki wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure that whatever they’re planning will be very touching…also, Romanoff stole Stark’s intended speech and vaguely threatened bodily harm if he attempted to improvise one; he may be an impulsive Midgardian, but he knows better than to find himself at the mercy of the Black Widow.”

(Y/N) chuckled as the lighting dimmed and all of a sudden, a spotlight landed on the two of them. “You see, the four of us up here got together and decided we wanted to do somethin’ special for our two good friends here. Like (Y/L/N) here mentioned earlier, she used music to help her out during her recovery and she’d play for all of us in the tower; so, we got together and figured that it was time we were the ones to play something for her…or rather, sing something for her. Hit it, adolescent DJ’s!”

The teenagers began to play an instrumental track of Frankie Valli and the Four Season’s ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,’ and Loki offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

With a smile on her face, (Y/N) nodded and allowed her husband to lead her to the empty center of the dance floor, slow-dancing along to the song’s pleasant introduction and biting her lip to keep from giggling when Tony and Sam started singing and Natasha and Clint provided their back-up vocals. “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Did you tell them that I like this song?” (Y/N) suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she examined Loki’s overly-cheerful face. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned to any of them that I like this song.”

Loki merely arched a brow and his emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, why would I do such an odd thing as that?”

“Pardon the way that I stare, there’s nothin’ else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it’s real. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

As the small instrumental revved up for the chorus, (Y/N) was twirled around in tight circles and before she could question her husband further, his voice suddenly echoed throughout the ballroom and sang, “I love you, baby!” (Y/N) gasped in disbelief when she looked over at the makeshift stage to see Loki standing at one of the microphones, and she laughed when she realized that her dance partner was a clone created from Loki’s magic. “And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…” Loki was grinning widely as he sang and when his eyes found (Y/N)’s, he gave her a sly wink. “Oh, pretty baby! Now that I’ve found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you!”

“You really are a trickster,” (Y/N) remarked to Loki’s smirking clone, who merely shrugged and continued to sway them across the dance floor.

“When our friendship first began, my darling (Y/N) took it upon herself to introduce me to all of Midgard’s greatest literary creations and being the dedicated bibliophile that she is, she more than succeeded.” The real Loki onstage smiled as he held onto the microphone. “Each and every novel and play she recommended provided me insight into her beautiful mind but when it came to watching the filmed adaptations of her favorite literary works, I was able to observe just how they affected her…which is how I know that (Y/N) adores the scene in a certain modern Shakespearean adaptation when the handsome lead surprises the heroine with a public show of affection.”

(Y/N) felt her face warm and a reluctant grin spread across her face as she glanced back at the clone she was dancing with. “10 Things I Hate About You was the first movie we watched together when I joined the Avengers. I…I can’t believe you remembered that…”

The clone leaned down and pressed a kiss onto her forehead while the real Loki onstage continued to sing. “I love you, baby! And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…Oh, pretty baby! Don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay, oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…”

When the song came to an end, the clone vanished in a shimmer of green magic and as the crowd clapped and cheered, an impressed-looking Darcy leaned towards (Y/N) and yelled over the din, “Geez, is there anything that guy can’t do?”

“If there is, then I’ve certainly never seen it!” (Y/N) chuckled and when Loki finally made his way through the crowd, she looped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “That was beautiful, sweetheart!”

“It was a challenge to keep our rehearsals a secret and I might’ve downed a shot or two of liquid courage beforehand, but I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” He pressed a kiss onto the tip of her nose and grinned when she laughed at the ticklish sensation. “You surprised me with a beautifully-performed song, and I surprised you with a slightly-less conventional performance; I suppose that great minds really do think alike.”

“Okay, here’s another oldie for all you oldies out there!” Ned Leeds’ amplified voice announced and the opening notes of The Village People’s ‘Y.M.C.A.’ filled the ballroom, causing the guests to eagerly take to the dance floor.

Nearby, Jane frowned and turned to Darcy standing beside her. “Wait, did that kid just call us old?”

“Join the club,” Both Steve and Bucky quipped as Natasha and Jennifer Walters dragged them past towards the center of the dance floor.

“Oh, I love this song!” (Y/N) grabbed Loki’s hands and started to sway along to the catchy beat. “It was in The Office, remember? It’s the song that plays towards the end of the Café Disco episode!”

“You’re right, but I’m still confused as to why a song about a worldwide youth organization inspires such a visceral reaction in Midgardians.” Loki studied the dancers around them in curious amusement. “And what about it has anything to do with weddings?”

She ducked under his arms and spun so that her back was pressed against his front, craning her neck so that she could meet his gaze with a grin. “It’s a catchy, cheesy song that has the easiest dance moves in the world to perform. Doesn’t that make it the perfect party song?”

Loki shrugged and spun her back out to face him. “Only if one has the perfect dance partner to go along with it.”

“Then I suppose we’re in luck,” (Y/N) quipped, pressing a kiss onto her husband’s knuckles before manipulating his arms along to the song’s iconic chorus and dissolving into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of the God of Mischief dancing along to ‘Y.M.C.A..’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the moon was high in the star-filled sky and the reception inside Stark Mansion was beginning to wind down, Loki and (Y/N) snuck off to the gazebo they were married in and swayed to the slow music playing in the distance, surrounded only by the beautiful flowers and twinkling fairy lights that decorated the structure. (Y/N)’s head rested on Loki’s shoulder and his eyes were closed as one of his hands held hers against his chest, directly over his heart.

“Do you think that we’ll see Doctor Strange again?”

Loki thoughtfully hummed and nodded. “I’m sure we will, but not for a long while; I believe that the superhero lifestyle unnerved the poor fellow and I doubt he wants to incite the anger of any of our friends. As long as you continue to train and master your abilities, there won’t be a reason for that second-rate sorcerer to bother you again.”

(Y/N) lifted her head so that she could meet his gaze, a single brow arched as her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled with delight. “So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going on our honeymoon?”

“And ruin the surprise I’ve spent two months meticulously planning? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Loki, I have to know what sort of clothes to pack!”

“Darling, I don’t imagine we’ll be wearing any for the majority of the honeymoon.” Loki’s teasing snickers quickly transitioned to laughter when (Y/N)’s fingers mercilessly tickled his neck in retaliation. “All right, all right, I surrender! On Monday, you and I will travel the Bifrost to Karapiro, New Zealand and spend ten days at Lakeview Lodge; we’ll have the opportunity to visit Rotorua, the Waitomo Caves and even take a tour of-”

“Hobbiton,” (Y/N) gasped and Loki’s grin widened as her face lit up with excitement. “We’re going to see where they filmed The Lord of the Rings movies?!” When he nodded, she flung her arms around his neck and nearly tackled him to the floor with the force of her embrace, but he was quick to catch her and hold her up against him while she laughed in delight. “I have the absolute best husband in the world!”

Loki’s heart leapt in his chest when she called him her husband and when she moved her hands to cradle his face, he tenderly smiled up at her and replied, “Well, the best wife in the world deserves everything I can offer her and more, does she not?”

(Y/N)’s expression softened into a look of loving adoration, and the feather-light touch of her thumbs caressing his cheekbones nearly made his eyes flutter closed in bliss. “You know, I think about that day we first met in the library from time to time. I replay the entire scene my mind – how I stumbled and how you were by my side in an instant to catch me, how our eyes locked and my breath was nearly taken away by the way you looked at me, how my heartbeat sped up when I realized how much I enjoyed having your arms around me – and when I do, I thank the universe for sending a mischievous and misunderstood trickster to steal my heart that day.”

“When I think of that fateful day, I find myself thanking the Norns for sending a kind and passionate lost princess to spellbind me, body and soul,” Loki huskily replied as his eyes stung with the prickling of tears. “And I pray that she’ll never set me free.”

(Y/N), her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy, gently shook her head and leaned forward to ghost her lips over his. “As long as the trickster holds her heart, she never ever will. So…” She held her hand up and stuck her little finger into the air with the hint of a playful grin on her face. “Pinky-Promise?”

Loki laughed and adjusted his hold on her so that he could wrap his little finger around hers. “Pinky-Promise.”

Their lips finally met in a passionate and unhurried kiss and Loki sighed at the heavenly sensation of (Y/N)’s fingers carding through his hair, holding his beautiful wife in a tight embrace and smiling through the love-filled kisses they exchanged beneath the gazebo’s twinkling lights.

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A/N: I honestly loved writing this and indulging in some of my own personal wedding dreams lol if anyone would like to see the different reference pics I used while designing the wedding, just shoot me a message and I’ll send ‘em to you! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk?si=5fcb3ef04de544e7

Three’s Company (A Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

“Spellbinding” Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie99 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @a-laufeyson @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki @crowleysqueenofhell @groovy-lady @mostclevermiss

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gins-potter · 1 year

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Are you all caught up on the OC finales? What did you think?

I caught up today! I thought they were fine to really good!!

Med was really solid. Surprising no one I'm absolutely heartbroken that Will is leaving but I'm glad he went out in typical Will fashion, had a really nice scene with Sharon at the end, and we got Manstead endgame. Liliana and Dr Charles are back together! They're so flipping cute, I love that for them. Dasher are doing Dasher things, I had to LOL when Hannah was like HARD NO about dating Archer and he was so offended. I think Med's gonna return to somewhat normal next season, probs the first half will be dealing with whoever buys the hospital and convincing them to turn it not-for-profit again. The only question marks for me are whether Maggie and Dr Song stay. I think if they continue to do O.R 2.0 things, Dr Song will, and I think they've left it a bit open for Maggie depending on Marlynne's health and what she decides. I was a little surprised they didn't address it more in the finale about the possibility of her leaving since the episode before made it feel like much more of a sure thing. A solid episode!

Fire was... kinda meh if I'm being honest. Like it's not unusual for me to multi-task while I'm watching tv, but I still pay attention to what's happening with the plot, but I was dicking around on my phone while watching Fire and kept realising that I was fully not paying attention to what was going on and kept having to go back and rewatch. Like, it just felt like lots of talking ha ha. I think where we go from here is super dependent on whether Taylor comes back next season or not. Feels like they're setting up Carver and Violet, which I'm not against, but haven't fully let go of Carver in his feels over Stella either, so if T.K doesn't come back and Stellaride break up (BIG IF NO ONE THROW TOMATOES) they might continue to pursue that as well. I'm more and more on the Stella/Carver train (NO ONE HATE ME) so I'm super fine with those angsty looks he's sending her lmao. Super here for the little friendship between Kylie and Ritter and very keen for Kylie to become the new candidate (that has to be where this is going). Sylvie's adopting the baby, yay for her I guess, I mean, like I said in another ask, I'm pretty sure I know this is heading for a Kara exit, which I'm not opposed to, so I'm just very.... okay? about this storyline. It feels rushed, but it's fine, and I get a Brettsey endgame (probably) so fine. And Mouch... maybe I'm stupidly optimistic but I don't think he's dying. I think Christian is leaving the show, but I don't think Mouch is dying. Idek why tbh. It's a bit anticlimatic if he does die tbh. Like he didn't even get shot, it was a random piece of shrapnel. Idk, I think he'll probs survive and then retire. Maybe I don't think they'll kill him because it would mean that PD also has to change Trudy's characterisation over on that show. Like imagine her husband dies and they never even mention it on PD 💀💀💀

PD was the best episode imo. The pacing and writing was great, even though I'd seen bits and pieces of it already online I still felt drawn in by it and I really felt the tension. I felt like Adam, Kim, and Kevin all got to shine. Hailey and Voight not so much, sad for Hailey, get fucked Voight. Absolute snaps for Kevin getting to shoot that racist mother fucker, and I know he's just a kid but lmao fuck Callum. Fuck his mum too and I hope she goes down for some of this shit. One of my only question marks is why Torres wasn't in the ep? I can't tell if it's a weird writing choice to keep leaving him out of episodes or if the actor has some sort of other commitment keeping him from being in every episode, but I feel like they either need to commit to his character being part of the team, or drop him and bring someone who will be around all the time. Burzek slayed as always, inject that moment of Kim on the phone and absolutely sprinting to get to Adam into his veins. Kim in the ambulance, and at the hospital, "Are you his partner", "You're with Adam" "I'm with Adam" yeah girl you tell that bitch. You ARE with Adam. I mean, as with every other Burzek shipper I'm annoyed that they clearly filmed a Burzek scene at the hospital and then cut it. I hope they release it as a deleted scene at some point bc I need it. I've seen the theory that they cut it because it shows Adam's alright and Paddy might leave the show.... I mean.... maybe? I doubt it. It's more likely they cut it bc the show has a hard on for Hank Voight and wanted to end on him. I think it would have been a better ending to end with Burzek because it would have been a really full circle, cyclical ending from where they started the season, and the episode, but, what can you do? I'm sure someone will write the fic. Still, despite all that, a really great episode and end to this arc.

Sorry, this got long but yeah, those are my thoughts. Med 6/10, Fire 4/10, PD 8/10.

#oc spoilers #one chicago #chicago med #chicago fire #chicago pd #answered

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amanjinka · 1 year

Text

Movement One

(A/N: The prelude and first movement took me 20 days to finish [I used to be able to write 2k words in less than a week] Absolutely wild from start to finish, had both a lockdown due to a potential bomb and a shooting threat at my school. Hope everyone has fun.)

The first week back in school was pretty average for me. Even though we started on the 6th, nothing happened until the 11th. That was the day of that big subway crash.

I remember I couldn’t sleep very well the night before, so I got up early to get ready. That was also the day that I emailed my boss to make sure my work schedule got changed.

```

“Thank you very much in advance,it was a pleasure to speak with you, [l/n] [y/n].”

After a quick read through, [y/n] rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and hit the enter key to send off her email. She pushed back from her simple desk and stood up, stretching deeply to further wake herself up.

After quickly shutting the lid of her laptop, she crossed her room to don her school’s uniform and prepare for the day. ‘Did Hanabi ever bring back those nail gems of mine?’ She wondered, inspecting her faded manicure as she slipped on her ivory coloured socks.

For a brief minute, she debated styling her hair differently from normal, but after a failed attempt or two, she sighed and fell back on her usual look. A couple more layers, a bit of mascara and a spritz of perfume later and she was all ready to head out. Luckily, the walk from dorm to school building wasn’t intensive, and the mid-spring breeze kept her from feeling the slight discomfort of her new shoes as they rubbed up against her ankle. Less than five minutes later, she stood in front of the front entrance to Kosei High School.

```

It was only a few minutes into the first class of the week and already [y/n]’s phone was being bombarded by chats from her friends. Quietly, she slipped her phone out of her bag and began to read up on all she had missed.

☆Momo 7.57 - There’s a criminal in my class this year. 😶

☆Hanabi 8.01 - ?? WDYM

☆Momo 8.01 - I mean theres a kid with a criminal record who’s gonna transfer to Shujin this semester.

☆Momo 8.01 - That’s what I heard at least but he hasn’t showed up yet so I wonder if Mishima was just trying to scare us lol.

☆Yuna 8.01 - You have Mishima in your class? And the transfer student???

☆Momo 8.02 - Yeah, he looks like he went to hell yesterday. What’s going on in your guys’ practices???

☆Yuna 8.02 - He just sucks lmao. Gets hit all the time.

☆Hanabi 8.03 - Which one was Mishima again? Did we see him at the tournaments last year?

☆Yuna 8.03 - He’s the kid with the short dark hair. He never got to play so you probably never saw him. Not like you went to watch the boys match anyway.

☆Momo 8.03 - Yeah he was at the tournaments.

☆Hanabi 8.04 - He didn’t go to middle school with us, did he??

☆Momo 8.04 - Nah, I think he went to one in a different district.

☆Yuna 8.04 - Thankfully!

☆Momo 8.05 - Thankfully?

☆Yuna 8.05 - Hes a total kiss ass.

☆Hanabi 8.05 - Yuck.

☆Momo 8.05 - Oh yeah..

☆Yuna 8.06 - I stayed up way too late last night, about to pass out in homeroom.

☆Hanabi 8.06 - Teacher is here, one sec.

☆Yuna 8.09 - Did [y/n] fall into a pit on her way to school or something? How come she hasnt said anything..

☆Hanabi 8.10 - Lol she’s probably just actually paying attention.

☆Momo 8.10 - Omg speaking of [y/n] I still need to send her the dates for the concert lol.

☆Yuna 8.11 - Why didn’t she just ask the director?

☆Momo 8.12 - 🤷‍♀️

☆Momo 8.13 - Is Shiho in class today? I meant to ask her about her birthday plans but didn’t see her this morning. ☹️

☆Yuna 8.13 - Nah, she’s out today for a funeral.

☆Momo 8.13 - Oh. My bad... Well I’ll text her later then.

☆[y/n] 8.20 → ☆Momo [🤷‍♀️] - I don’t know the director’s email address.

☆Momo 8.21 - It was on the sign up sheet and the like every other paper we’ve gotten.

☆[y/n] 8.21 - I don’t have any of those with me, they’re at my mom’s house.

☆Momo 8.21 - then text your mom??

☆[y/n] 8.22 - :(

☆Momo 8.22 - Whatever. It’s the 28th, 29th, and 30th of April.

☆[y/n] 8.23 - Thank you Momo, I love you <33

“[l/n] [y/n]?” A male voice rang out from beyond [y/n]’s screen. She quickly jolted in her seat, shoving her phone into her desk and looking up to acknowledge her teacher.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you said,” [y/n] said, her voice fading as her embarrassment set in.

“I can tell,” He responded, crossing his arms. “I just asked if you could could tell me what it is called when we do geometric calculations on a non-flat surface. ”

“That’s non-euclidean, I think..” She whispered.

“Yes. Thank you very much Miss [l/n]. It would do you good to turn off your phone before class starts next time so you could answer the first time I ask,” he reprimanded, then turned to move away from her desk and back to the front of the room.

Shifting down further into her seat, [y/n] focused her gaze to her legs so her peers would not see how red in the face she was. What a great start to the day…

“[y/n] are you working this weekend?” Hanabi asked as the two walked the halls during lunch time.

“Yeah but I’m going to be Sundays only for the first couple weeks back,” [y/n] responded then took a quick sip of her drink.

“So you're free Friday afternoon? Cause I was thinking we could go and get our nails done professionally instead of just doing them ourselves."

"I have rehearsal right after school but I'd be free after 17."

"The salon I looked at closes at 20 so we're totally fine,” Hanabi smiled,”It’s only like a 7 minute walk from the station so I’ll just wait for you there.”

After a short silence, [y/n] sighed,“I’m so not ready for that performance.”

“Momo said there was gonna three nights of it, is that for real?”

“Yeah, I’m really not looking forward to it.”

“My brothers going to be back in town pretty soon so I might take him to watch you two.”

“You’d be better off watching a bunch of crickets hop around. It would probably be more to your liking anyway.”

“Yeah well the more you say that the more I want to go.”

“Aww Hanabi, come on!”

“Oh what’s that? Is the bell ringing? Well I guess i’ll get a head start and order my tickets on the way to class! See you [y/n]!”

All I could do was sigh and head back to my class. That concert ended up pretty good, but it was overshadowed by all that stuff with Mister Kamoshida.

The rest of that day was pretty uneventful. I just met all of my teachers and walked back to my dorm after school ended. Hanabi wanted me to run over to the store with her, but I was still pretty tired so I skipped out on it.

After changing into a more comfortable outfit, [y/n] fell down onto the edge of her mattress and laid her head back as she let her body sink into the soft blankets and comforting scents. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, before a loud and obnoxious buzz reverberated throughout her body.

Groaning, she turned over and pulled out her phone, turned it to silent then skimmed through the notifications.

“Detective Prince Akechi on Mental Shutdowns: ‘It could happen to anyone’”

“Everything to know before watching ‘The Cake Knight Rises’”

“4 dead in subway accident, more injured. Driver comatose.”

Hah…

None of it was interesting in the slightest.

Clear, clear, and clear!

Finally, [y/n] opened up her messages and scrolled up to check just how much she had missed after the morning.

☆Momo 13.12 - He’s real.

☆Momo 13.13 - Transfer student came in after lunch, hes honestly kind of scary looking. Like disheveled almost. He didn’t even introduce himself either.

☆Yuna 13.14 - Kizana said she saw him come into the school with Sakamato. He still hasn’t showed up to class though so maybe he’s getting chewed out.

☆Momo 13.14 - Oh so he really is a delinquent. You think they were up to something or what?

☆Yuna 13.14 - No clue, but she said the same stuff you did. Told me he looked like he was gonna snap at any moment.

☆Momo 13.15 - 😗

☆Yuna 13.15 - stop that.

☆Momo 13.15 - 🎱

☆Yuna 13.15 - About to come over to your class and tell your teacher to kick you out.

☆Momo 13.16 - 😱

☆Hanabi 15.36 → ☆Momo[He’s real.] - Did you ever find out what he did?

☆Momo 15.45 - Only rumours.

☆Hanabi 15.46 - boo.

☆Momo 15.46 - Not like hes just gonna show up and say “Hi, I’m your new classmate, I’m on probation for armed robbery” or something.

☆Hanabi 15.47 - I wouldve.

☆Momo 15.47 - Sure.

☆Hanabi 15.53 - They’re all out of the good brand of rice crackers.

☆Hanabi 16.04 - Hey @[y/n] do you want me to get some of your [favorite drink UwU]? They have your flavor here.

☆[y/n] 16.07 - yes please

☆Hanabi 16.08 - Alright. It’s buy two get one so I got a new type too.

☆[y/n] 16.08 - You’re my number one Hanabi. Forever and always baby <3

☆Hanabi 16.09 - So you’ll pay for the nail salon?

☆[y/n] 16.09 - I can if you really want me to.

☆Hanabi 16.09 - <3

☆Momo 16.10 - Thought I was your number one forever and alwats 😞

☆[y/n] 16.10 - Alwats.

☆Hanabi 16.10 - Alwats

☆Momo 16.11 - Alright what if I died in a plane crash tomorrow and that was the last thing you ever said to me.

☆Hanabi 16.11 - Then I’d be [y/n]’s number one forever and always for true and real and always and alwats

☆Momo 16.12 - Okay then bye I’m going to go die. [y/n] I will always love you, not Hanabi though she’s my enemy.

☆Hanabi 16.12 - Absolutely.

☆[y/n] 16.17 - I’m going to go do my homework you guys.

☆Momo 16.17 - Loser.

☆Hanabi 16.17 - booo.

The rest of that week went by really quickly. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary really. I did my best in class, did my best in practice, did my best to talk to the people around me. It felt like the year was going to be really uneventful to be honest, but all I really had to do was wait until that friday and everything really kicked off.

#joker persona 5 #he isnt even in this chapter lmao #a waltz #had to edit this because i forgot the foreshadowing #trust you guys #its just yn #its like a choose your own adventure except you dont get to choose

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hospitalterrorizer · 16 hours

Text

diary371

9/26-27/24

thursday - friday

tomorrow my gf leaves ... for la...

i'm sure she will be fine, her friend + new friend who is friend to her friend are nice (one confirmed by me and other confirmed by her) but i do keep worrying irrationally that out of nowhere they might be mean to my gf. i think i'm just crazy, i just get images in my head of her in emotional pain or feeling alienated like i've seen in the past, like when we went to chicago and she felt judged by my friend and it was difficult to navigate because he didn't mean anything, he's just one way, and she is another, i worry about her but i think other people will pay much more attention, and notice that kind of thing and know some people won't self-advocate in certain situations out of anxiety. i imagine these women do, or i know one does. i just worry.

i am sure it will be fun, and normal, and nice.

today, what else... the guy is gonna send tapes to me i sent him my address finally i am so dumb and forgetful. i did some more drums, or one track has drums now and i also added some bass and messed with the guitar sound, i think it's much better now.

youtube

listening to this right now. it's good. freaky soundz.

it's hard to remember where my head went today... sucks, my gf made some 2x spicy buldak ramen noodles and they are tasty but it hurts too much for her and i... we're too weak, my tongue was really... it felt like it was gonna explode or like i was sucking off a cactus, my whole mouth throbbing in a weird way. super freaky, i'm glad the pain went away rather quickly though. still...

i played more fear and hunger, i got the girl and i got a save, i have the necronomicon, lol. or a necronomicon? do you get multiple? can you?

i also vced today with friends, which was good, really good ppl to talk to, just about whatever, it's been a while since i've talked to my friend matt in vc, and cleo as well, though this is the most we've ever talked generally, it was just chill but i didn't have a lot of energy cuz of my fasting in the mornings/when i wake up so i was just kinda starving towards the end. it's kind of nice how exciting it makes food. i always look forward to eating my oatmeal...

i need to sleep now, tomorrow we aren't walking to the store... my gf just decided we shouldn't basically, she was like, i'll just order something, and that's that . i hope i can make it last... i am scared of not making it last...

time for bed...

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#Youtube

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

Text

criminal.

you met a woman from a penpal website and began to form a relationship with her, until you suddenly got comfortable with her and began to share fantasies that she had also dreamt of.

pairings | prisoner!dark!natasha x fem!reader

warnings | 18+ MINORS DNI! online talking, prisoner!natasha, dirty talking (online), rough sex on the couch, strap-on (used), pet names, dark!natasha, and daddy kink.

word count | 3.5k

notes | this was anon requested and i hope this satisfies you, nonnon! i’m so sorry if it’s too late :( i am doing my best to get all of your requests. enjoy though!

navigation

When I heard of this website called Pen Pal from my friends, I was sketched up. I wasn’t the type of person who would message someone from the internet–let alone a stranger who could break into your house if they had your address. You can’t trust the internet these days. The only reason why I know this website is because of the lack of relationships that I have never gone through in my life. Although I did have a few crushes, they liked me back, but eventually, it turned into nothing like a cloud of dust. Did I want to be in a relationship? Sure, sometimes.

Okay maybe.

Anyway, I was scanning through the website and saw some of the inmates who seemed desperate as I was. These people, specifically women, wouldn’t pass my age. That didn’t matter though, I’d still like anyone even though they weren’t my age. No one caught my interest, especially with their boring information about themselves. Looking for a babe, I want someone who could send me nudes, if you got tits then ur good. This is the information that I don’t need, they are too forward. If you want to speak eloquently about railing someone, you might as well do it in the second stage of dating.

Until I see a profile that did catch my interest. Natasha Romanoff, 36 years old. “I like making new friends.”

She’s a real eye-catcher.

And, she’s not your typical American, she looked too European to be American. Perhaps she was Russian and possibly was born from there, unless I may have assumed it in a wrong way. I decided to click on her profile and gave her a small greeting message.

Me: hey! :D

I didn’t wait much for her reply since I had Calculus homework that I had to do, so I grabbed my pencil and went back to studying. It was almost midnight when she replied, and I was tireless when I received her message.

NatsRomanoff: Hey there :) what suddenly brings you here?

What suddenly brings you here, I thought as I read that message. I could say: nothing much, I just want to say you’re really pretty or I want you to lick my neck with your devilish tongue so that I could be compelled to you. Although the second option was too forward, too soon. I decided to type something else.

Me: my friends told me about this website, idk why. i think it’s because they think i’m pretty lonely, plus it’s also fun. as they said.

NatsRomanoff: Hahaha, that seems cute. I hope the people here doesn’t scare you off unless you’re only talking to one person.

Me: i only plan to talk to one person and hopefully that’s you

NatsRomanoff: You must be adorable, what’s your name?

Should I give her a piece of information about myself? Would it be risky enough to say my name and let her rattle all over me? Or would I not let her in and continue on with my basic life? Yes, basic. My life in the outside world isn’t as fun as it seems. I go to school, learn a few things, have my piano lessons, and come back home with a gaunt look on my face that wasn’t too inviting. Go on, tell her! My head won’t stop telling me to do so, my fingers are on the keyboard as I try to think of any other names that I would use.

Me: Y/N. you?

NatsRomanoff: Pretty name :) Natasha, even though you can see that in my bio.

Me: sorry. i was trying to be formal lol

NatsRomanoff: What’s your sexuality? I don’t want to assume that you’re a girl or a boy, or neither.

Me: i’m a girl!

NatsRomanoff: Cute :) so can I call you a pretty girl then?

I try my hardest not to form a smile or a significant sparkling feeling inside of me as I know that I could fall for someone on the internet in less than a month. But heck, I blushed hard.

Me: yes, why not haha

NatsRomanoff: :)) how old are you, pretty girl?

Me: I’m nineteen, almost twenty in two months!

NatsRomanoff: That’s cute, really adorable I’m gonna be honest. You don’t mind talking to someone older, yeah?

I put my laptop away for a short minute and thought long and hard about our age difference. We were seventeen years apart, she’s almost two decades older than me and I have this sort of romanticization of being with older people. They bring so much comfort to you that you ought to believe that they will always protect you and be more mature than you are, so that’s probably the reason why I love being in that type of situation in the first place. Though, I could never be in one. My parents would kill me.

But they aren’t here, so…

Me: not at all. :)

NatsRomanoff: I’d ask if you could send me a photo of you, but you can’t do that here.

Me: Well, when do you get out of prison?

NatsRomanoff: Two years, pretty girl. Why? Care to visit a poor old woman like me? :)

Me: aren’t we friends?

NatsRomanoff: Of course, we are. I’d like to see you someday, hoping you wouldn’t run off.

Me: why would you say that? lol

NatsRomanoff: Aren’t you scared that I’m some old woman who is a prisoner? You don’t know my crimes.

Me: do you want to tell them to me?

NatsRomanoff: I’d keep it a secret for now :) but, I’d like to see you someday. Anyway, I have to go. Can I talk to you again tomorrow? Pretty girl? :(

The real deal question was: why wasn’t I scared? Why was I willing enough to give myself to a prisoner? I wouldn’t know what she has done, I wouldn’t know anything about her. But she seemed so kind enough that she doesn’t give me the peevish and creepy vibes that I’d always feel when it comes to other people–especially her age. I bit my inner cheek and thought about what to type with her calling me a pretty girl. Referring to me as one even though I hardly believe in such a name like that.

Me: of course, tasha! goodnight :)

NatsRomanoff: Goodnight, pretty girl.

—

The next few days went pretty smoothly and ambling. It felt like I was in this word heaven as I called it whenever I would be talking to Natasha. Perhaps paradise would be a fitting term for our messages. My friends knew about Natasha, they even told me to flirt a little. But I gave them a hint that I wasn’t ready for anything like that, knowing what they were trying to tell me. Natasha knew a few facts about me that I told her a few days ago. And she gave me small pieces of information about her too, which made me admire her more. Before she got arrested, she was working at a bar and would spend her quality time at the library, telling me that she had a spot that is now taken by everyone else. I told her that I also like reading and that’s how we mostly connect; we send each other book recommendations. Apparently, she likes The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, she said the book reminded me of her–even though that was a little confusing on why. I told her about the book called The Price of Salt because of my age difference with Natasha. She said she had read that one, and we both laughed about it.

NatsRomanoff: You seem like such a smart girl for your age :) What school are you going to?

I read her message, again and again, thinking if I should tell her what school I’m attending. My friends told me not to give any information that would lead to my address, but it’s Natasha, right? She wouldn’t hurt me, even though I’d only known her for five days. Plus, she constantly reminds me that I don’t have to say anything that would offend me.

Me: columbia University, i have a scholarship. :)

NatsRomanoff: You must be academically inclined then :) Love smart girls like you.

Me: lol what does that mean?

NatsRomanoff: I’m sure you know what I’m trying to say.

No, I don’t know what she’s trying to imply–does that make me feel stupid?

Me: anyway, i have to do some reading before i go to bed :(

NatsRomanoff: Aw, come on :( I want to talk to you some more, stay here baby.

I almost threw my laptop in the air as I read that word. Baby, I thought with a whimsical smile on my face. She’s getting into me. I imagine her being in my bed right at this moment, her hand on my knee as she tells me so many stories about herself before her life in prison. Touch me, Natasha. Put your hand on my core, massage it and tell me how much I can be yours. Whisper into my ear and tell me that I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, that you have to eat. That lewd thought quickly went away when I received another message from her.

NatsRomanoff: Can I call you baby?

Me: of course, you can.

NatsRomanoff: Good. I love us being friends, I haven’t talked to anyone like this in such a long time. I understand if you’re tired, I’ll message you soon. Goodnight, baby girl :)

—

Days have turned into weeks, weeks have turned into months, and I’ve caught myself falling in love with Natasha Romanoff, not knowing her criminal record or her basic life. Just a small fact about herself that she rarely tells me since she stated that she’s more interested in my life than hers. I didn’t mind, it’s not like I could ask her again, but it did get me wondering why on earth she wasn’t telling me in the first place?

I was lying down on my couch with a book sprawled all over my face, just like how I’d be in bed whenever I think about Natasha. We’ve said some dirty text to each other, but not in a way that we tell our fantasies to one another. I like to imagine a lot, it’s like I make them into my own little world and I drag her through it–let her know what I like and don’t like. I’ve never told anyone about my fantasy, nor hers. I guess we were practically the same people.

NatsRomanoff: I have something to tell you, but promise you won’t freak out.

Why would I freak out? Is she going to say something intense that would scare me off? There’s nothing that could scare me off when it’s only from her, or maybe that’s how submissive and giving I am.

Me: shoot.

NatsRomanoff: I have this fantasy of breaking into your house and watching you sleep. If not asleep, then you’d be standing there with a frightened look on your face. I would touch you without your consent and quiet you down since you’re a bad kitty. Is it okay if I say I want to touch you without your permission? How about if I slip my fingers inside of you without your permission? Would you still allow me? Just tell me to back off, I obviously won’t do anything if you say no. Think of it as a kink.

I felt myself beginning to get wet as I read through the whole message from her. She makes my body tremble with the need for her touch, how much I crave for her fingers or her tongue to lather up all over my skin. My face began to heat up like a kettle, my toes were curling against the sheets, and my hands were sweating as well as my forehead. I wanted what she wanted, I fantasized about it long before she did. Unless she has done it first, I wouldn’t really care. The fact that we share the same thought probably meant how much we are connected. I typed fast and sent it, moaning quietly with the raging thought of her breaking into my house with a threatening look on her face.

Me: that’s really hot, tash…

NatsRomanoff: Do you want that to happen, little girl?

Call me that again, call me your little girl, Natasha. I promise that I can be good to you, I’ll suck your thumb for you and kiss your neck, I’ll let you open me up and take me until I’m bursting into tears, you only know how to make my world shatter. You know.

Me: yes.

NatsRomanoff: Call me Daddy, baby.

Me: Daddy.

NatsRomanoff: You love Daddy?

Me: yes.

NatsRomanoff: I have a strap-on in my cell, did you know that? Before you, I’d fuck girls with it. And now whenever I see that toy, I just want to use it on you so badly. I bet your pussy is tight, are you a virgin?

To her disappointment, I wasn’t. I’ve had sex with a girl twice, but it wasn’t as good as I thought it would be. Losing your virginity should be special, and it wasn’t. As much as I want to say it felt nice, it’s not as good as I thought it would be. Or maybe, I was expecting an older person willing to take me instead. Could that be Natasha when she comes out in two years? I can’t wait any longer, I could feel my legs opening up for her.

Me: i’ve had sex before :( is that okay with you?

NatsRomanoff: That’s okay baby. I’m a little disappointed that you’ve had sex, but it’s alright. Promise me no one else will touch your pussy except me. Promise me.

Me: i promise.

NatsRomanoff: I love you, little girl. Can’t wait to see you.

That was her final message before she went offline, and it made my eyes quirk in confusion. Can’t wait to see you. Was there a possible chance that she escaped from prison and broke into my home, fulfilling our fantasies of one another? Couldn’t be true, she wouldn’t do such a thing.

I decided to close my laptop and turned off my lamp, my body shifting against the mattress while I had my legs pressed hard against each other–shamefully trying to get some friction that would make me think of her lewdly once more as my nipples started to perk with the chill thought.

—

I tried texting Natasha over and over again for a whole week, but she never responded. It took me time to realize that maybe she has met someone else who was willing to give themselves to her, to be much more open when it comes to sex. Was it because I was not a virgin? Did she shame me for that? Or maybe, just maybe, she has escaped prison and is finding my location?

Stupid, stupid thoughts. She wouldn’t know my location, but I’ve given her a hint now since I went to Columbia University. It’s not that I was frightened, maybe a little, but it was because I don’t know anything much about her that she’s capable enough to hurt me.

I tried surpassing the thought and went back home soundly with my keys jangling on my bag, it was attached to the metal zipper. Except that, the door was unlocked, which gave me a thought of someone breaking in. Could it be Natasha? Was she fulfilling the fantasies that we’ve created together? I shook my head and walked to the apartment–getting a different feeling from the atmosphere. Everything seemed normal, perhaps I might’ve forgotten to lock my home. I dropped my schoolbag on the ground and removed my jacket, the hair on my skin getting sensitive because of the cold mystic air from the outside of my window. I turned around and almost stumbled on the couch when suddenly I saw a figure who was standing in front of me, I didn’t know who it was.

“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, stepping away from the redhead woman–who’s honestly very daunting–as I tried to find a piece of glass or any object that would be my self-defense. Instead, she gives me an evil smirk and wraps her free arm around my neck, pulling me close to her until I realize who this person was.

This was, in fact, Natasha Romanoff. She has escaped prison.

I didn’t even give her my address.

“Shh,” she coos over and over again, cupping my face tightly. I do admit I was trying to free myself from her, but she was so strong. “You’re so beautiful in real life, and so tiny. C’mere, don’t be scared. It’s me, Natasha, why are you trying to fret me?”

“L-Let me go!” I said, kicking off my feet.

“Shh, stop baby stop…”

“No!” I screamed kicking my feet again, my hands trying to push her chest. But God forbid, she was undeniably strong. Her arms were wrapped around my torso like it was a life sentence, I kept screaming until I felt her hand smack against my left cheek–making me whimper aloud.

“If you scream again,” she breathes heavily and nips on my earlobe so that I could feel her warm breath–my core is beginning to pool with wetness. “I will cut your tongue out. You better stay fucking quiet.”

She never let go of my body and instead, kissed me hard on the lips. It felt consensual since I let her do it, and I almost melted from the kiss that I wasn’t expecting from her. Her mouth felt warm and cooled my lips, and I realized how we were both famished for our lips to touch. I never thought about it happening this way, though it felt romantic and incredibly arousing as she kisses my lips hard and passionate. I was desperate for her not to pull away, but she did with a pant.

“Gonna fulfill that fantasy we both wanted,” she whispers with a low grunt, pushing me to the couch while unbuckling her belt. “I have my fat cock with me, and I know how much you’re going to like it. So better yet open your legs and show me that pretty pussy of yours.”

I did not waste time removing my pants and snapping my legs together as the air hit my wet cunt. She sees the action and furrows her eyebrows, her hands in between my knees as she pushes them away, departing if you have a deeper term. Her eyes were so dark that you couldn’t see much green in them and her mouth was foaming when my bare cunt was shown, my clit beating hard.

“Gonna give yourself to me, m’kay? Gonna fucking ruin this hole until you’re mine. In fact, I’ll have to hurt you if you disobey me. Might as well break your legs so that you could never run off from me, understood?”

“But–”

A sharp slap made contact with my inner thigh as I gasped out in pain, mostly pleasure. She watches my lips being bitten by me and almost wanted her dildo pressed against my mouth, slithering herself in until she fucks my mouth as if it was the gaping hole of my vagina. I was ready–so ready–to submit myself to her, to make her smack me until I bled. I wanted her to do everything she wanted, let alone if she had to take me in the ass. I stare at her and notice how hungry she was for my pussy, please just fuck me.

She pulls down her pants and I see a dark purple dildo that looked insanely big for my preferred size. I looked at her with horror but she was smiling down at me, meaningless to say I have no way out. She brings the tip to my entrance and thrusts inside of me with one go, my mouth screaming in pain and pleasure. In an instant, my hand was around her neck and I felt her mouth kissing mine again–though this one was a sloppier one.

“Fuck,” she murmurs more to herself, enjoying the sight of her cock fully inside of my cunt. “Look at you, taking a prisoner’s dick. Ya like that, don’t you baby? Want me to fuck you on this couch?”

I nodded.

She snaps her hips into me, making the couch squeak with how forceful it was. I was moaning with each thrust, my chest burning up at how fast the pace was going–I couldn’t take it, she was so big. Yet, I didn’t care. I wanted her to do this to me, I wanted her to take me until I’ve become such a slut for her that everyone would know who I belonged to. She buries her face into the crook of my neck as I hear her let out a whiny moan.

“Oh, baby! Mmph, you fucking feel so good…” she pushes my hair away from my face to take a better look at me, and she chuckles. Fucking chuckles. “You are a slut, aren’t you? Tell me you’re my whore baby, come on–tell Daddy.”

“I-I’m–” my breath hitches as I felt my breasts bouncing up and down with the speed of her shallow thrusts. I’ve grown wetter than I imagined. “I’m your whore, Daddy…”

“Daddy is crazy ‘bout you,” she sniffs into my neck heavily that I practically heard it. “Gonna make this pussy mine. I’ll make sure of it.”

this was insanely hot for me i’m sorry

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #dark natasha #black widow x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff fic #prisoner!natasha #a's oneshots!

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

Note

Wedding planning with your soon to be husband has been nothing short of a breeze. With the leftover invitations, you addressed all your favorite celebrities- your fiancé insisting that the you send one off to Steve Rogers.

What you didn’t expect was to get an RSVP back from him, but you’ll accommodate anyone that can make your fiancé beam like that.

congrats on 7k, you deserve it and more 💚

Title: Something Blue

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Bride!Reader

Wordcount: 1,279

Warnings: Dark!Steve, is there a bride kink?, Wedding Crashing, Implied Smut, Manipulation, Implied NonCon

A/N: 👀 next up, a wedding, lol. i hope you all enjoy this one, it was really fun to write! love a good wedding-crashing.

Your sister squeezes your hand, and you pray her shrill whisper doesn’t carry all the way across the church.

“IS THAT STEVE ROGERS?”

You drag Hailey away from the double doors, your face flaming hot as you bunch the delicate train of your dress under your other arm so that you can waddle back to the dressing room as quickly as possible.

“Jesus, Hailey! Scream it, why don’t you,” you hiss, resting your back against the cool wood.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just, well, fuck!” Your sister throws her hands into the air excitedly. “Like, Captain America is at your wedding!”

“Ex-Captain-America,” you remind her. “And besides, this was all Travis’ idea.” It was. Steve Rogers was your husband’s idol—Brooklyn born and bred, just like him. It went beyond healthy hero worship in your opinion, but you hadn’t been able to deny his request.

“If he doesn’t come, so what? It’s just an invitation! People send celebrities invitations to their weddings all the time! Look at J.Lo!”

Well, it certainly isn’t J.Lo sitting in the second right pew, you think with a sigh.

“Oh yeah. Damn, he should have brought the other guy, the new one, with the wings. He’s fine.” You elbow her, laughing.

“Do you think you could not troll for strange dick at my wedding?” You ask, turning around and motioning to the still loose laces on the back of your dress.

Your sister heaves a dramatic sigh, and you feel her gather up the laces, pulling them taut. “My work’s never done around here. And now no reward? What did I even come for?”

“To see me marry the love of my life?”

“I guess I’ll settle for that,” she grunts, and you exhale a strained breath as she ties off the corset. “Look at that, perfect.” You’re about to ask if your makeup needs touching up when there’s a soft rap at the door. Hailey peeks around you with a frown. “If that’s you, Trav, you better get out of here and go wait at the altar before I punch you.”

“Then it’s probably a good thing Travis is still up at the pulpit, then.” The voice is familiar—not because you really know Steve Rogers, but because you’ve heard it on television so many times. Your sister covers her excited shriek with her hands while you fumble for the doorknob. You pull it open, and there he is, his tight-fitted tux bulging around his muscles as he raises a hand for you to shake, the other held behind his back.

“Steve Rogers,” he says, as though you don’t know who he is. “Congratulations.”

“N-nice to meet you.” Your hand feels tiny in his. “I, I didn’t, um. Travis is a really big fan.” You stammer. “I didn’t think you would, um. Would come.”

“Well, maybe this is a little embarrassing, but I love weddings. Haven’t really been to a proper one since I came out of the ice.” He rubs the back of his neck, and his cheeks pinken ever so slightly. Cute. “Anyway, I thought I should bring something.” In his left hand is a thick envelope.

“You didn’t have to do that, really,” you protest, but he forces it into your hands with a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

“No, no, the pleasure is all mine. I’m sure the service will be lovely.” He gives you a polite nod, and about-faces, walking back into the chapel. Quickly, you tear open the envelope, and your eyes widen. The earrings inside are nothing short of lovely—they look like antiques; baby blue sapphires set in delicately twisting silver.

“Jesus christ,” says Hailey over your shoulder. “You think if I invite him to my birthday I’ll get some of the Queen’s jewels?”

“Hailey!” You chastise her as you replace the pearls in your ears with the sapphires Steve had gifted you, handing the discarded earrings off to your sister. You fix her with a conspiratorial grin before giggling.

“No, but send it anyway.”

—

The ceremony was beautiful, and Travis’ vows brought tears to your eyes, which had utterly ruined your mascara. That was okay, though, because now you were his. And he was yours too; forever, just like he’d said.

“I didn’t think I could love someone as much as you. Could feel as much love as you give me.”

It makes your chest ache with fullness just to think about it.

“We’ve got to be there in forty five minutes, you have everything?” Your mother asks you hurriedly as she rushes you to the car. “The dress is there already?”

“For the hundredth time, yes, mom. It’s at the suite. I just have to change and then we can go right to the reception hall. Ten minutes, tops.” Travis is already headed there, but he isn’t the one that has a twenty pound tulle demon to contend with. It’s only a few minutes back to the hotel, and you assure both your mother and Hailey that you can touch up your own makeup and shimmy into the skin-tight ivory number you’d chosen for the reception.

You leave them downstairs, gathering your skirts in your hands as you race to the elevator.

“Hold the door, please!” You’re surprised to see Steve jogging toward you, an apologetic smile on his face. “Thanks. Didn’t realize you were staying here too,” he says, taking care not to step on the train of your dress as he squeezes in beside you.

“No problem,” you grin. “Just going to get reception ready. Late, as per usual.” The bell dings, and you begin trying to clamor out of the elevator past him.

“Let me help.” Steve lifts the hem of your dress, high enough to keep the train from dragging as you speed-walk towards the hotel suite. With a swipe of your key-card the door opens, and you bustle into the room.

“Thank you, Steve, I really appreciate it. And the earrings are beautiful.” You turn to him with a grateful smile, expecting to see him bow out of the room and close the door behind him—

But he doesn’t.

Steve reaches up to slide the thick deadbolt down over the lock, that serene smile still on his face.

“You’re very welcome, doll. They look beautiful on you.” Steve Rogers is a hero, you tell yourself, swallowing down the rising bolt of fear that snakes up your throat. A hero. He takes a step closer to you. “You know, I fibbed a little earlier. And I am sorry for that.” Your mouth goes dry as he begins undoing the little gold cufflinks on the sleeves of his tux.

“W-what are you doing?” He ignores you, continuing to talk like you hadn’t asked him a question.

“I’ve been to lots of weddings. Turns out, you people love inviting strangers to your most private, personal moments—if they’re famous.” His fingers go to the buttons on his shirt after he unclips the tie from his collar. There is ice in your veins as you try to run for the phone on the bedside table, but Steve grabs for the back of your dress. You tumble backward, and the air leaves your lungs in a pained wheeze as you hit the floor.

You stare dizzily at the ceiling as he begins to crawl under the many layers of delicate tulle, his fingers tugging at your garters.

“I’m going to leave you something blue, sweetheart,” he says softly. His mouth is warm against the bare curve of your hip. “I know blue eyes are a recessive trait, but they all seem to have them.”

fin

#chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans characters #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #darkfic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve imagine #dark!fic #monkeys paw challenge

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

request for ceoverse! pls make where the wifey visits him at work ((wherein the employees still dont know how she looks like)) and his secretary kinda looks down at her like “who r u, do u even have an appointment lol” ... i want angry ceo!harry and shook employees PLEASE +++ hes all soft w her in front of them and they are all like HUH 🤨

TEMP OPENING (mini blurb)

Reminder: Harry is not nice! He’s an asshole to everyone but his wife and baby.

Y/N was a bit frazzled. She was suppose to drop off important documents, that her husband had forgotten at home, to Harry’s office an hour and a half ago.

Ivy decided that it’d be best to throw a temper tantrum because she didn’t want to stop playing with her toy kitchen set.

After a half hour of wriggly, angry toddler chaos - Ivy was strapped into her car seat with a furious expression.

Especially because YN didn’t let her bring a toy along because of her behavior. It was her attempting to kick the back of the leather seat until YN firmly asked her to stop.

When she wouldn’t, YN pulled out her last resort card. She didn’t use it much because she didn’t want it to lose luster.

“Did I need to tell Daddy how you’re treating mummy?” YN looks in the rearview mirror at her red-faced daughter.

Ivy looked comical. She’d refused to let her mother comb her wild curls or change her white shirt that was covered in berry stains.

“No!” She shrieks but stops kicking and huffs as she looks out the window to the passing scenery.

The temper of her father, YN swears.

She manages to scurry through the building without many glances. A few people know who she is but not any of the lower level employees.

They don’t recognize Ivy either because she is rarely in the building and if she happens to be they keep her on the secluded top floor where his office is.

YN is rushing, feeing awful about not getting the papers to him sooner. She doesn’t look much better than her baby.

Hair is a messy bun atop her head, a ripped up vintage shirt, and grey biker shorts that have similar berry stains to her daughters.

She is basically dragging her toddler along as she isn’t very willing to use her feet at this very moment. Stopping and staring at everything then grumbling when her mum pulls her away.

Finally she arrives at the office that houses his secretary before the massive doors that lead into his office.

When she pushes through, there are two men sitting on the sofa with briefcases in their laps - obviously waiting for a meeting.

The women behind the desk isn’t the usual grey haired grandmother-like women that she and Ivy love.

Harry’s normal secretary was on a week vacation and there was a younger, raven-haired girl sitting in her usual position.

She looks YN up and down with judgemental eyes before she smirks and says, “Mr. Styles isn’t hiring for the cleaning crew right now.”

It takes moment of confusion to realize that the girl is implying that how she looks - unprofessional and a hot mess means she’s less than.

Even though any job is a good job.

YN is about to comment on how rude the comment is but Ivy bolts to the side of the office to view a large very much alive plant.

She reaches up to curiously pick at the leaves in her child-like wonder but ends up pulling the whole thing over, soil spilling all over the plush white carpeting.

It startled Ivy into tears, rushing back to her mum and begging to be picked up. YN can feel the men and the secretary’s eyes on them.

“Mummy, it’s scary,” Her daughter whines, sniffling and burying her face into her mum’s neck. Hiding.

“You’re okay, it’s fine,” YN soothes, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“It’s really not okay because now I have to clean that up. Maybe you should get that little brat under control.”

It’s perfect timing when Harry’s door opens and he hears the girl call his daughter a brat.

His perfect little baby.

All eyes go to Harry, he demands attention anywhere he goes but this is his territory. He’s fucking furious.

“Hayley, why are you talking to your boss that way?” Harry asks in a calm, taunting tone. He casually rests against the doorframe.

Hayley looks at him confused, “What do you mean? I was just telling this women that her daughter is out of control.”

“First off, that women is your boss just as much as me. Seeing as she has 50% ownership of the company,” He replies cooly, pursing his lips in irritation.

“Second off, I’m not going to tolerate you insulting our daughter. She’s a fuckin’ baby, she’s going to do things kids do,” Harry motions to the plant lying lifelessly on the ground.

YN shoots his a look, no cursing in front of Ivy, and he automatically sends her an apologetic look. Their daughter has popped up and is dimpling at her father.

“Daddy! Missed you!” Ivy chirps happily.

The two men are wide-eyes and quiet, they look at each other once - communicating silently.

“Anything else I need to address, pet?” Harry asks his wife, accepting Ivy when she makes grabby hands at her father.

Harry smiles down at his child, “Hi Vee. Y’missed Daddy? I missed you, my little lovie.”

YN usually would let it alone and not be catty - truly.

Insult her all they want but they do not talk about their daughter like that.

“She said that they’re not hiring janitorial staff. I guess my appearance gave off that kind of signal,” YN smirks, even though the rock on her finger should have given it away.

“Hmm, isn’t that interesting?” Harry hums, mocking that he’s thinking hard.

It’s amazing how he can still be intimidating with a little clone of himself in his arms - who’s currently wrapping her fingers in his cross necklace.

“Wha-what?” The confused, nervous girl answers as she realizes the pit she dug herself into.

“It’s interesting because we may not have a janitorial position available but we have a new opening for a temp secretary,” Harry smiles widely with no empathy for the girl.

Then he’s turning to the other men, “D’you two have anything t’say? I’m always willin’ to open your positions too.”

They shake their heads in unison and don’t open their mouths at all. They actually look at their feet.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Hayley spits at him, standing up and throwing her purse over her shoulder.

“You better hurry. The unemployment office closes at two,” Her husband tells the girl before ignoring her mutters to kiss his daughter’s cheek.

YN steps over, murmuring “She has been a brat all day but she’s our brat.”

“Eh, her mummy is a brat half the time too,” Harry replies, lowly so the men can’t hear.

He can’t help but reach his hand around and squeeze quickly at her bum.

“H,” YN squeaks, smacking him playfully, “Here’s those papers. I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“Never be sorry, s’okay. These guys have been sitting there for the last two hours waitin’ on them to start the meeting. They’re fine.”

YN flushes, avoiding the men’s gazes, and hands them to her husband, “You really are an awful boss.”

“I know, s’fun,” Harry smiles, pressing a kiss to her lips before kissing Ivy’s nose to hear her giggle.

After meeting, the men will discuss - one: how hot his wife is and two: how Harry was whipped for her and his baby.

Enjoy 😊

#harry styles #ceo!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #ceoverse #ceo!harry blurbs #ceo!harry masterlist #writing request #dad!verse #dad harry #harry styles husband #husband harry

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sincerelyella · 2 years

Text

Feelings Circle

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella); Drake x OC (Alyssa)

Characters belong to Pixelberry; Ella Brooks belongs to me; Alyssa Devereaux belongs to @burnsoslow and is used with permission

My brand spanking new and beautiful poster for The Loft was made by the amazing @gokushairgel ❤️ she is a gem and so dang talented. Thank you for creating this masterpiece!

Summary: An AU based on the show New Girl (my favorite can you tell??) Just a collection of one-shots and shenanigans that allude to the show. This will NOT be canon, that means this won’t be in Cordonia and Liam isn’t a King. If you have watched the show before, you know they are in Los Angeles, California.

A/N: This little chapter takes place after the birthday fic I wrote for Burnsy called Lifetime. You don’t need to read that one to know what’s going on in this fic though ☺️

A/N 2: It’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything - mostly because work has been crazy and studying related to work has also taken up a lot of my time. My taglist is very old so feel free to ignore should you not want to read this mess lol

Thank you Burnsy, my tumblr and real life friend, for letting me borrow your best girl, as well as looking over this fic and not saying it completely sucked big donkey balls lol I love you.

Warnings: Adult language; sexual innuendos; some overall inappropriateness because it’s the Loft 🤷🏽‍♀️

Words: 1258

Alyssa opened the door and to her surprise saw a large package that was on the floor addressed to her. She grunted as she pulled and pushed it inside the loft. “Ella!”

A voice came from one of the rooms down the hall. “Yeah?”

“Did you order something for me again? I just returned the freaking roundabout dildo!” Lyss shut the door with her foot and crossed her arms across her chest.

“What’re you talking about? I didn’t buy anything,” Ella bounced into the living room. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Lyssa bent down to take a look at the label on the box. “It says it’s from Texas.”

The girls pawed and pried open the box and saw that it was a bread maker. “A bread maker? What the fuck?” Lyssa saw a note tucked on the side and tugged on it. “It’s from Drake’s mom!” Drake and Alyssa just got engaged and FaceTimed his family and her cousins and friends to give them the news. Drake, not being too close to his mom and Aunt Leona, still felt like giving them a call about their engagement was respectful. “‘Dear Alyssa, So glad we got to meet you even though it was when you and my son were already engaged,’” Lyss read out loud. “‘Please accept this as an engagement gift, hope to meet you soon.’”

“What the fuck kind of gift is a bread maker?” Ella asked as she poked the box. “She doesn’t even know you. Why not send a toaster or coffee maker or something?”

Alyssa gasped. “Maybe she thinks I can’t take care of her son!”

Ella’s brows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know, I heard she treated Drake and his sister like shit and abandoned them,” she explained with a wave of her hand. “So maybe this is her way of being petty. Maybe she thinks I can’t cook!”

“But you can’t,” her friend pointed out.

“That’s beside the point! She thinks I can’t take care of her only son!”

“How can you say you don’t take care of people?” Ella put her hands on her hips in a huff. “You take care of me! You’re fierce and strong and you would stand up for anyone that you love. You’re like a big, scary, protective mama bear!”

“I just make sure you don’t kill yourself when we’re drinking El,” Lyssa’s eyes watered. “What if Drake’s mom hates me?”

The girls were interrupted by the front door opening and the guys of loft 4D barged inside, already mid argument.

“If I’m not having sex in this loft, then nobody is having sex in this loft!” Leo roared as he marched towards the kitchen.

“I am so aware of my nipples right now,” Maxwell hissed as he hugged his chest tightly.

Ella and Lyss glanced at each other, then turned back to the boys. “What in the fresh hell-”

“Just don’t make any sudden movements,” Ella whispered out of the side of her mouth.

It was Liam’s turn to speak as he turned to his fiancé. “Love, did you know about this?”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what’s happening right now. I need context.”

Leo ripped open a box of condoms, dumped them onto the kitchen island, and pulled open drawers.

“What the fuck is going on?” Lyssa asked as she turned to Drake.

“I’ll tell you what the fuck is going on!” Leo answered as he lifted up what he was looking for - a pair of scissors. “I’m going to cut all these condoms up!”

Drake, Max, and Liam lunged toward Leo, Drake reaching him first and tackling him to the ground. Max kicks the scissors away from him and Liam tries to pull his best friend off of his brother.

“Get ahold of yourself, you crazy oaf,” Drake grunted as he struggled against Liam’s strong hold. “Just because you fucked up and aren’t getting laid anymore doesn’t mean you can fuck it up for all of us!”

Leo huffed, his face red. “If any one of you try to have sex up in this loft I’ll body block! No love making! All love making will cease!”

“Everybody shut up!” Ella screamed. Everyone went silent and turned their attention to the small woman in front of them. “All of you, just shut up and sit down at the table. We’re going to talk about this like adults.”

Alyssa grinned. “I’ll get the-”

“Aw,” Maxwell whined. “Not the-”

“You bet your ass!” Lyss waved the feelings stick in his face. As a teacher, she brought home a lot of popsicle sticks, yarn, felt tipped markers, and crayons. But the feelings stick was used religiously in case they needed to have a loft meeting. The girls usually bring it out when there are some kind of feelings involved and the guys don't want to talk about it.

“Feelings stick is in effect,” Ella began as everyone took a seat, grumbling as they went. “You know the rules, one person speaks at a time and no interrupting.”

“Everyone deserves to be heard at the table,” Alyssa continued as she stood behind her new fiancé and bent down to kiss his cheek.

Ella plopped herself onto Liam’s lap, his arms automatically settling around her hips. “Who wants to go first?”

Maxwell reached for the feelings stick now in the middle of the table. “We all were at the store and Leo saw Hana there with another guy. He got upset and jealous and was trying to follow them down the aisles! As a distraction, I told him that the store ran out of cheddar cheese blocks and he went into some kind of rage and twisted my nipples,” he turned to look at Leo as he wrapped a free arm around his chest. “That really hurt and now I’m pretty sure you ripped some chest hair out of my skin.”

Leo snatched the feelings stick out of Max’s hand. “I felt like that was the wrong time to yell about my favorite cheese, and you knew how distraught I’d been over my … situation with Hana!”

Drake leaned over the table and grabbed the feelings stick from Leo. “I feel like you are being a real bitch about this Hana issue, Rys!“ Alyssa and Ella flinched at the harsh words; Leo’s face turned a dark red color. “You cheated, and she dumped you. Come to terms with it and fucking let it go!”

Liam held his hand out towards Drake, motioning for the feelings stick, and like a baton, Drake passed it over. “Leo, I don’t think it’s fair that you purposely bought condoms for everyone with a plan to just cut them up since we’re all in relationships and you’re not.”

A knock on the door interrupted their feelings circle. Alyssa walked over, flung the door open and her brows raised in surprise to see Hana on the other side. “Hana! Hey … uh, what’s up?”

Wringing her hands together, Hana gave her friend a nervous smile. “Hi Lyss, is Leo here?”

A screeching of a chair and stomping of feet sounded a moment later, and an out of breath Leo stood at the door next to Lyssa. “Hi! Hana … hi! How are you?”

“Leo …” Hana chewed on the inside of her cheek.

An awkward silence settled between the two and Lyss became increasingly uncomfortable. “I’m … just going to walk away,” she bent down under Leo’s arm that was holding the door open and scampered off.

“Did you want to come in?” Leo asked softly.

Hana nodded. “I think we should talk.”

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milkiane · 3 years

Text

hope ur ok; rafe cameron

» address the letters, to the holes in my butterfly wings.

SOUR COLLECTION

summary: a box from the past and a walk through memory lane made you realize that a lot of things changed, but no one would ever replace the boy that still held a special place in your heart.

warnings: profanities, mention of spider lol??, rafe’s full name is rafael because mama likey, mentions of food & alcoholic beverages, no obx 2 spoilers!!

word count: 4765

“hey, y/n?”

you looked up from your phone as you heard the sound of your mother’s voice. she has been rummaging through her drawers for a solid few minutes now, and she still hasn’t found whatever she was looking for. “yeah, mom?”

“do you have some envelopes i could use?” she asked, wiping the sweat that formed on her forehead. “i just need to send something important, and i couldn’t find any.”

“i think so. i’ll go check my room,” you offered as you hopped down the stool.

“please,” she sighed, though an appreciative smile graced her lips, “thanks, hon.”

you hummed, running up the stairs to your room. you pushed the door open, and your nose wrinkled at the sight of your messy room.

you needed to do some cleaning -- and soon.

you went through your study table, your folder organizers, and under your bed, but you never found them anywhere. you swore you had them in here somewhere.

you grabbed the ottoman from your bedside and placed it in front of your open closet. even with the added height, it was still too low for you to reach the top, because you had to blindly pat around for something.

you managed to grab a hold of a box and a packet, which you assumed were the envelopes. you pulled them both from their confined place, but as soon as you brought them down, you let out a scream at the sight of the spider on top of the envelopes.

the ottoman rocked from the sudden movement, which resulted in you falling off with a loud thump.

“fuck,” you cursed, watching as the spider crawled away.

“are you okay?” your mom called out as you eyed the familiar shoebox that cracked open from the fall. “did you find the envelopes?”

“yeah…” you trailed off, eyeing the contents of the box as you pulled it towards you. “and more.”

“what was that?”

“nothing!” you exclaimed, grabbing the packet and handing it to her. “here’s the envelopes.”

“thanks, y/n,” she said as she placed a kiss on the side of your head before waving you off.

you walked back to where the box was, and you ran a finger through the numerous designs that it adorned. from stickers to doodles, the sight brought a smile to your face.

you looked through the entirety of its contents; photos, letters, movie stubs, receipts, and old drawings. it all brought you a wave of nostalgia and heartache.

there are a myriad of polaroids of you and rafe, each tugging a string of your heart. the photos did not only capture the raw bliss of the both of you, but also the story behind it.

the movie stubs and receipts from friendly date nights slowly faded away from age, but it still held a value that only you and him would ever appreciate.

and the love letters that were creased and folded from being reread time and time again. you grazed your thumb over the rumpled texture of one of the letters, ‘open this as soon as you get on the plane’.

dear y/n/n,

in this letter contains the words i was too afraid of telling you, so if you’ve managed to get a hold of this sap, then i probably chickened out.

in all honesty, no words can describe how much you mean to me. but for you, i’ll try to muster up all the right ones.

y/n, you’ve given me a new meaning to my existence and i couldn’t imagine a life without you in it. if anyone was going to ask me, i’d say that you and i were made to be together— forever, wherever that may be. you, and loving you was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. you have a very special place in my heart, and no one could ever replace that, be it in this lifetime, or any other lifetime.

so you moving out of the obx will never change the way i feel about you. we’ve been friends for too long and if this letter will somewhat be the reason why it’d be ruined, good thing you’re miles away from me haha :’)

— and if not, by any means, if you like me, too, then i’ll give you my word and promise that i’ll wait for you. no matter how long that may be, i’ll wait for you.

love,

rafael.

P.S. the writing classes dad (forcefully) made me join finally came in handy ;)

you let out a watery chuckle, no matter how many times you’ve read it, the words of rafe cameron always got to you.

you sighed, delicately putting everything back in the box as you leaned against the side of your bed. you looked up at your ceiling, which adorned a few glow-in-the-dark stars that he also gave you.

you wonder how he’s doing.

it was just another evening for the cameron family, but instead of having dinner at home where their personal chefs could cook something up for them in at least an hour or two, ward made them dress up for the dinner reservation he made at the new fancy brasserie.

and they were gracious enough to invite you along.

when rafe came to pick you up, the both of you burst out laughing at the sight of your coincidentally matching attires. once the laughter died down, he offered you a stem of rose he plucked out of, well, rose’s garden on the way out.

rafe took a separate car from his family, opting out as soon as he was given the opportunity. he’d rather scream the lyrics of a trashy pop song with you than sit in silence with his family in the limousine.

the trip to the brasserie was fun and short-lived, and the both of you had to switch characters from young and blithe to mature and professional in a matter of seconds. and what bothers you the most is that it’s his family.

no one should be feeling tense and antsy around their family.

but you’ve been welcomed to their family long before rose even entered the picture, and you knew how ward cameron was. he cared more about their money and reputation on this small island than being good to their own child-- unless you’re sarah.

when the both of you arrived, the waiter led you to where they already were. an unamused expression on his father’s face as he saw you both arrive a little bit later than they did.

“now that they’re finally here, can we please get those menus?” ward asked the waiter, who awkwardly distributed the laminated folders and backed away to list your orders.

you ordered the meal you deemed adequate for yourself and waited as the others cited theirs.

“uhh, can i have the smoked chicken quesadillas with the side dish of shrimp scampi?” rafe stated, looking up from the menu.

“oh, can i have what he’s having, too, please?” sarah smiled, placing the menu down.

the waiter pursed his lips, before speaking up, “i’m sorry, but i’m afraid only one of you could have it, unless all of you are willing to wait another hour for the quesadillas?”

ward sighed and turned to look at his son, a stern look on his face. “rafe, how about you be the best brother there is and let your sister have it?”

rafe scowled but nodded nevertheless as he muttered under his breath, “always sarah, it’s always sarah.”

you placed a comforting hand on his knee as you frowned at the older man a few seats across from you. “your dad’s being stupid, you can just share with me.”

“shut up, y/n.” he gritted his teeth, moving his leg away from you to withdraw the hand you placed on his knee. “don’t talk about him like that.”

you opened your mouth to say something but decided against it as you took notice of his clenched fists and hard expression.

the rest of dinner was tense as rose tried to keep the atmosphere light, but she should’ve known better not to try. rafe’s mood only worsened as soon as ward talked about business and sarah’s choices for her future.

his hand kept fidgeting, and you slowly placed yours on top of him. he tipped his head to look at you, and you offered him a small smile as you finished your food with your hand intertwined with his.

when rafe dropped you back at your house, he pulled you into a hug and apologized.

“i’m sorry for snapping at you, y/n/n,” he sighed, resting his chin on top of your head. “you know how i feel about my dad. he’s not the best dad out there, but he’s still my dad…”

“yeah, i understand.” your words were slightly muffled into his dress shirt.

rafe doesn’t know where he’d be without you. he felt as though he was slowly starting to lose himself under the pressure of his father and always wanting to be worthy of his attention. despite having everything, it’s still not as much as what his sister gets.

and he’s not talking about the money, but it’s about the love and support that his father constantly showers her with.

you slowly walked down the stairs as you gripped the newly folded parchment in your hand.

you approached your mom and watched as she hastily penned something you couldn’t quite fathom. “hey mom?”

“can i have one?” you asked as you pulled an envelope out of its packet.

“yes, sure,” she murmured, doing a once-over at her work before turning to you. “do you want me to bring that to the post office, too?”

you nodded, writing down the important details on top of the envelope before passing it to her. “thanks, mom.”

rafe cameron

#68 vespucci st., tannyhill, obx. north carolina.

butterfly mailbox.

to rafe,

hey, long time no talk.

i just came across the shoebox filled with the things we kept back in the obx -- brought me too much feels. i don’t know if you’ll write back, but i do hope so. i missed you so much, i have so many things to tell you.

i don’t know if i’ll see you again someday, but if you’re out there, i hope that you’re okay!

all the love,

y/n.

rafe didn’t know what else to do. it was a nice afternoon out, but he wasn’t in the mood to spend his time outside so he declined the plans that he had with topper and kelce.

everything was the same every day, anyway.

he sighed, walking towards the balcony to breathe in some fresh air, having been cooped up in his room for hours now. he watched as kids raced on their new shiny bikes across the street, their laughter filling in his ears.

rafe furrowed his eyebrows as he eyed the mailman approaching the mailbox that he hadn’t touched in months. his confusion grew as the mailman shook his head with the same confusion.

he sauntered down the stairs, earning a cheer from wheezie, who was residing on the couch. he ignored her and went straight outside.

rafe didn’t know if he even wanted to open it.

the mailbox that he stood in front of was assembled by you and him when you were both sixteen. the mellow white box that adorned the painted butterfly wings and both your initials were slowly fading from age.

he slowly pulled on the mantle, his face falling at the sight of what was contained inside. he grabbed every single letter that was sealed and delivered but never read.

rafe went back into his house as he shuffled through each envelope, a soft smile gracing his lips despite the heavy feeling in his heart.

06/08/20

to rafey,

guess you did like me after all, you sap! and don’t worry, i like you, too.

life in new york is… new haha but seriously, it’s a big change, and i’m still trying to get used to everything. it’s weird not having you around, i miss you too much. didn’t think i’d miss you pissing me off every second of the day, but well, here i am.

take care of yourself for me, won’t you? and be nice to your sisters, you’re still their brother at the end of the day, and believe me or not, they love you just as much as i do.

hope you’re not missing me too much!

xx y/n

06/09/20

to rafael,

mom said i had to attend pre-college next week! can you believe that? i mean, it’s just like a seminar and how life in uni is but like- :/

anyway, i don’t know if you’re getting my letters, but it’s only been a day since the last one so i’m not that worried.

i miss you! please write back <3

- y/n

06/15/20

rafe!

hey there, kook. you know, i can’t believe we’re caring too much about the whole kook v. pogue fiasco back at home. there’s a whole new world beyond the obx, and it amazes me that no one really cares about whatever’s going on with other people’s lives.

i’m going to attend the seminar tomorrow, wish me luck aaaa

hope you aren’t getting into trouble, rafael.

write back soon!

y/n

06/21/20

hey rafe,

it’s been at least a few days since the last letter, sorry for not writing.

i don’t even know if you’re getting this, or if it got lost in the post, but i need you to write back, please.

i haven’t been feeling my best these past few days, it’s so hard making friends here at uni. i kinda miss having you by my side, my personal guard dog haha

missing you as always,

y/n

06/22/20

rafe!!

i made a new friend! her name’s ves. well, not really, but she told me to call her that. she’s cool-- chaotic. somewhat like me haha i think you’ll get along with her.

i hope you’re doing well <3

xoxo, y/n.

P.S. did you see the envelope? i drew a wolf in class ‘cause i remembered you. still can’t believe that your name means wolf, now stupid, little me can’t help but remember you whenever someone mentions a wolf.

06/24/20

rafeyy

our professor assigned us our first project and i honestly can’t wait to start it.

have you been receiving these letters or are you keeping them to yourself? i think you forget that you have to write back, too.

y/n <3

06/30/20

rafael cameron,

i have so much to tell you! so today the bell rang (well, duh) which means my eng lit class was over and i was packing my things up, right? and then the professor called me and said that i should stay back for a while because she wanted to talk to me. so i agreed, of course, and i was so fucking nervous. i tried to think of something that i did that could possibly upset her, and i couldn’t think of anything as the class walked out for their next class.

and when she finally called me, you wouldn’t believe what she just asked me!! she offered me an internship at this company her husband worked for. she told me that she loves my written works and how i had a way with my words, so she showed it to her husband, who showed his boss and i guess you’re talking to an intern at adornia now!! omg

sorry i realized that i rambled, but i was just so excited to tell you!

write back, rafael, i need to know what’s going on in that kooky life of yours.

lotsa love,

y/n :)<3

P.S. i just realized how many letters i’ve written to you, there’s at least 6/20 envelopes left.

07/23/20

hi rafe,

haven’t written to you in a while, but to be fair, you haven’t written back either.

how are you? your sisters? i also miss them.

a month into uni and i’m… hanging in there. i feel homesick every day.

lots of love,

y/n.

07/28/20

i miss you, i still like you.

08/06/20

write back, please.

rafe let out a shaky breath as he held the most recent and last one in his hands. it was different from the rest. it lacked the usual goofy doodles and colorful fine liners. it was just… plain and sophisticated.

he took his time reading it, taking in your handwriting and the slight smudges on the paper. he let out a heavy sigh as he finished it, looking through the envelope to see one of the few polaroids you sent him.

you were balanced on his shoulders, his hands gripping on your thighs as you had a hold on his hair. the both of you had goofy smiles on your faces, a cowboy hat on top of your head. yeehaw, cowboy! was sloppily written at the bottom, no doubt his handwriting.

rafe stared at the letters for a few more seconds, a few of them were wet, and he had a hard time deciphering the words written on them.

truthfully, he never expected you to write to him. the only reason he had the mailbox was because you pretended to be pen pals when you were younger, even though your houses were not less than a five minute walk away.

he’s given you his number with the usernames of his socials, and he kept guard of his phone ever since, expecting you to pop up in his notifs with a text or a reaction to the farewell letter he gave you.

but it never came.

and it took him months to accept that you wouldn’t give him a call or text.

rafe realized that you must’ve been feeling the same disappointment and chagrin as he did when he never wrote back to you, and he felt bad for never checking the mailbox.

he laid in his bed wondering how you’ve been doing the past few months you’ve lost touch. sure, he got the smallest glimpse through your letters, but he knew you, and he knew that there was something much bigger than what you’ve chosen to share.

he’s wondering if you knew how proud he is of you, not just your accomplishments, but you. he’s so proud of the person you’ve become.

but why would he spend time wondering about everything and anything when he can just find out for himself?

friday game nights with you was rafe’s favorite night.

he brought out the classic monopoly from the board room and plopped down next to you on the living room’s carpeted floor.

as rafe arranged the pieces by its respectable places, you leaned back on your arms and took in the familiar surroundings of his home.

your eyes settled at the childish drawing on top of the fireplace’s mantelpiece. an amused smile grew on your lips, which your best friend immediately took notice of.

“what are you smiling at, you idiot?” he asked as he looked at you oddly. the piece in his hand hovering over the board.

you lifted a finger up to show him what you were staring at. “who drew that?”

rafe rolled his eyes, going back to fixing the game as the frown on his lips deepened. “sarah.”

you hummed, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you wondered, “where’s yours?”

“what?”

“your drawings.” you shrugged, finally helping him with the last few parts. “i doubt you don’t have any.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he let you finish it up. “i dunno, probably hidden under sarah’s. always been.”

you stood up from the floor and walked towards the frames, grabbing each of them that contained sarah’s drawings.

rafe had a panicked look on his face as he watched you grab them from its place. “what are you doing?”

you ignored him and sat back on your original place, unlatching the locks from behind the frame.

and surely enough, there were drawings hidden. every art work of rafe’s had been signed by younger him with a sloppy signature, and it brought a huge smile on your face. “i’ll keep them.”

“what?” rafe asked in disbelief, staring at you as you delicately placed his drawings in a pile for you to keep.

“i’ll keep them.” you repeated, putting back the frames where you found them, and returned beside him. “are we gonna start this game, or what?”

at that very moment, rafe was sure of one thing: he liked you.

wheezie watched in amusement as her brother started to rummage through every cabinet and drawer for something. he even looked under the couch’s cushions, dumbly enough.

“do you… need anything?” she finally asked, arms crossed as she looked at her brother for an explanation as to why he’s close to wrecking the whole house just to find whatever he was looking for.

“yeah,” he nodded. “envelopes, you got any?”

“jeez, is your ego really that big that you couldn’t have asked me that in the first place?” she muttered, her face scrunching up at the sight of her brother’s bored expression. “yes, it’s in my room.”

as soon as rafe was handed the packet of envelopes, he unwittingly planted a sloppy kiss on his sister’s cheek, which made the both of them freeze.

“don’t tell anyone i did that or i’ll wipe your whole face off.” rafe threatened, shooting her a menacing glare before rushing back to his room.

“it’s not like i’d ever tell anyone about that.” wheezie shuddered, wiping the slobber off her cheek.

rafe drove down to the post office with the sealed letter stuck to his hand. his mind filled with the thoughts of you and the letters that he didn’t even realize that he arrived until he parked the car.

before he could enter the small building, his eye caught the sight of a flower shop across the street, making him pause and draw a decision to enter it.

so back in the post office, instead of just a letter that was long overdue, rafe also had a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“hi, i’d like to get this rush-delivered to this address,” he said politely as he slid the card with your address across the counter. “preferably now so the flowers will still be fresh.”

the clerk he was talking to frowned at his request, “i’m sorry, mr. cameron, but i’m afraid we wouldn’t be able to get this delivered to new york as you wished. our trucks are filled to the brim until tomorrow.”

rafe blew out a low whistle and grabbed the wallet from his pocket. he pulled out three hundred dollars and discreetly slid it towards him. “take this, and have it delivered today.”

his frown only deepened and declined the offer. “it’s all honest work here, mr. cameron, i’m sorry, but you’d have to wait until tomorrow.”

“fine, i’ll take matters into my own hands, then,” he huffed in annoyance and shoved the money back into his pocket. he grabbed the flowers and the letter from where it stood

y/n l/n

atlantic ave., 115th st., new york, new york.

hey y/n,

i’m surprised you still have that shoebox, but i’m glad you still have it. at least you have something to remember us by.

i’m sorry for not writing back y/n/n — am i still allowed to call you that? — i never expected you to write me letters. i knew i gave you a paper with my contacts, if i remembered correctly, so i kinda expected to hear from you through the phone. guess not.

we lost touch, i know, but i just gotta say that i miss you, and i hope that you’re okay.

yours, and only yours,

rafael.

ever since you sent the letter yesterday, you couldn’t help but peek through the window every other hour— just in case he finally decided to write back. although you knew that the chances were low.

your mom was out for work, which left you to fend for yourself for the time being. you’ve done your assignments early, so that means you’ve got the rest of the day slumming around.

you already had your netflix on when the doorbell rang. you grabbed your purse on the island counter and pulled out the money you needed to pay your take-outs.

as soon as you swung the door open, you nearly dropped the money you were holding. though despite your initial shock, you were able to mutter, “you’re not the pizza guy.”

rafe laughed, and oh, how you missed the sound of that. you immediately leaped into his arms for a hug. the sweet smell of his cologne filling your senses.

“you better not be greeting the pizza guy like this, y/n/n,” he teased, pulling you in closer to reciprocate the tight hug.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked as you pulled away from him, slapping a hand over his arm.

“ow,” he mumbled, rubbing the area to ease the pain. “came to see your mom, duh.”

you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the growing smile on your lips said otherwise.

“these are for you.” rafe handed you the bouquet of your favorite flowers, they were slightly wilted, due to the travel, you assumed. but they were still beautiful nevertheless.

“thank you, rafe,” you smiled at him, pulling him into your house. you momentarily disappeared into the kitchen to find a vase as he rolled his suitcase into your home.

“why didn’t you ever call me?” he asked as soon as you entered the living room.

“why didn’t you ever write back?” you playfully shot back, though you both know that you were still hurt from his sudden ignorance.

“i didn’t think you’d write to me, honestly.” he admitted, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, and that’s when you finally took in his appearance. his usual slicked back hair lacked the gel, which made his hair look tousled and soft, and the polo shirt and khaki shorts combination were replaced with a comfortable hoodie and sweatpants.

“well, i did.” you shrugged, sitting back on your spot on the couch. “i lost the paper you gave me, i told you that in one of the letters, if you ever bothered to read them.”

“to be fair, we haven’t used that mailbox a few months before you even left, and phones exist for a reason,” rafe sassed, flopping down next to you. “i only found out about the letters yesterday after i saw the mailman drop a letter in it.”

you hummed, unsure of what to say next. you just let the comfortable silence take over the both of you as you basked each other in.

“do you still like me?” he finally asked after a few more minutes.

you risked a glance at him to see that he was already looking at you. you bit your lip in hesitation, but you didn’t know why you were hesitating. you knew the answer to his question. “yeah.”

“do you still want to go out on a date with me?”

“yeah,” you nodded your head as you grinned at him. “you still have any questions to ask?”

“nah,” he grinned back as he pulled you in to wrap his arms around you. “just that i love you, and i’m glad that you’re okay.”

he tilted his head down a bit as he glanced at your lips, you took the hint and slowly leaned in as he did. although before your lips could even touch, the doorbell rang, and you leaped away from him.

“oh, i think that’s the pizza!”

“y/n!”

“sorry!” you laughed, you paid for the pizza and shut the door. you walked back to where a pouting rafe was sitting and lowered the box on top of the coffee table.

“fuckin’ pizza guy’s a cock block.” he muttered, as he tugged on your arm and brought you to his chest. he cupped your jaw with his hand and slowly brought his lips to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet, and everything about it screamed perfect. everything was finally coming together after years too long of pining and slowburn.

when you pulled away, rafe leaned in again to catch your lips into another short kiss. “okay, how about that pizza now?

“hell yeah.”

general taglist: @tatesimper @bluvclouds @i-love-scott-mccall @miraclesoflove

sour collection: @ifilwtmfc @dumbasscorn

obx taglist: @maybanksslut @angelixcpixies @oldschoolkiddo @iwritesiriusly @natashxromanovfreads @nyxie75 @stylesyourmine @gabiatthedisco @taylathornton @bury-my-love-inthe-moondust @queen-asteria04 @aliyahsomerhalder @wolfstar-lb @mrs-cameron @golden-hoax

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