haze him

‘’Why is she wearing my hoodie?’’

A/N: Here is just another fluff bomb for you all, hope you it! Please let me know what you think. Please note that english is not my first language so there might be grammar mistakes

Pairings: Bucky X Reader

Prompt: Bucky tries to figure out the reason behind his missing hoodie one day, relishing in the idea that might be a win-win situation for both of you.. but what might that lead to? 

Warnings: Fluff overload

Word count: 3745

Originally posted by snowfox934

It all started out innocently enough, on a monday evening after a return home from a particularly difficult mission. Your feet brushed against the cold kitchen tiles, a shiver trailing through your body as you made your way to the fridge for a late night snack. You grabbed a plate of brownies, showing the fridge close with your elbow before making your way to the television room.

You were surprised to find it empty, smiling to yourself as you relished in the idea of being able to pick a movie for once as you planted yourself on the couch. You placed the plate on the sofa table, bringing a brownie to your mouth as you browsed through the selection available on Netflix until you found something of your liking. Another shiver trailed down your spine, your body being tired and drained of energy from the mission and you reached over to the blanket at and brought it over your legs. Your eyes landed on a grey hoodie, figuring it was Steve’s you contently threw it over your shoulders and enjoyed the warmth and smell of the large garment that covered your figure.

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Murata stream update: the arrival of an egg so amazing it brings you to tears :’)


@giornoweek2k17 Day 3: Giorno’s Birthday

actually just thinking about this being giorno’s 32nd birthday so i wanna draw him that age with the flowing mane haha. i think he’d be the type who’s private with the celebration and all, maybe even work through the day unless a few of his inner circle chooses to celebrate with him. 

Distractions + Bonus Chat

Pairing: T’Challa x F!Reader


T'challa x Reader where she wants to ask him out but the others find the most random things to ask to distract them     

A/N: The bonus chat is at the end of this. And Wade is in it, so as always, language.

Wanda has created a chatroom.

Wanda has added Y/N.

Wanda: So, how’d it go? Did you ask T'Challa yet?

Y/N: Something came up and he had to leave for Wakanda. It’s fine, I’ll ask him when he gets back.

Wanda: It could be months, Y/N. You shouldn’t wait. Ask him now.

Wanda: I know what you’re doing, and don’t you dare!

Y/N: Huh? I’m not doing… whatever it is that you presume I am.

Wanda: So you’re not searching for quotes on being patient as an excuse to not ask him now?

Y/N: Dammit, you know me too well!

Y/N: How would I ask him now, anyway?

Wanda: If only the Avengers had some secure, private means of communicating with each other…

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top check, please comedic moments in no particular order:

•sriracha cupboard
•"pies just…appear" “we’ve only been here five minutes”
•lardo’s boob art
•"e-SPECIALLY secretary of state"
•ugly baby jack
•roach vs attic discourse
•no pie in hazing
•look at him, sitting on that nhl bench like a pro
•jack catching rans/holtz staring at his ass
•fry guy

and of course, my personal favorite


feel free to continue this list

Rent Re-Imagined. A One-Shot Fic.

Anonymous said: What if Jamie and Claire gave into their feelings before they married and murtuagh caught them…

…well, I hope this matches your vision, Anon.

Thanks to @outlandishchridhe as always for writing my grammar wrongs, you gem. 

A tiny break in the university madness gave me a bit of a chance to write. If you’ve asked me for something, never fear…I am still going to honour them. Just when I have time to do them justice.


Slipping behind the largest trunk, Claire slunk closer to the debris at the base of the tree. She could hear Dougal and Jamie talking –animatedly. Jamie, it seemed, did not agree with his uncle on some matters pertaining to the earlier escapades with the locals and his eager need to tear the shirt from Jamie’s back at any God-given opportunity.

Claire didn’t blame him. Thinking about it made her blood boil and she had to grip the bark with some vigour in order to keep herself sat still and not go tearing down the hill towards Dougal herself.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned her head backwards, thinking instead of her own intimate matters. As much as she tried to force back the *affectionate* feelings that had begun to manifest themselves deep in her chest, the camaraderie she felt towards Jamie had bloomed. Claire found herself almost drawn to the Scot, her movements mimicking his in the strangest of ways. Her body was attuned to his.

How else had she found herself here? Close to him once more, eavesdropping on his conversation, not for the actual words, but just to be within close proximity of the man.

She was so consumed by these thoughts that she failed to notice Dougal stomp passed her, his long gait extended by his increased ire at his argumentative nephew. The crack of fallen branches pulled her from her reverie though, and she dipped lower, her shoulders hunching closer to the trunk in order to stay out of sight.

A distinct sound of gaelic curses rang out only moments later, causing Claire to jump a little. Turning onto her knees, she crawled over the roots and glanced down into the small valley beyond her hiding place.

Watching, she scrunched her eyes to see in the dark as Jamie, venting his frustration in the safest way possible, smacked his clenched fist against the closest tree. Claire, from where she knelt, could see the tense set of his shoulders as he pulled his arm back once more, his head falling forward as he pounded the rough bark.

His words, foreign to Claire’s ears, were almost unintelligible from this distance, and she climbed closer in order to get a better view. Arguing with herself, she decided it was best to let him get this pent up aggression out of his system before she showed herself.

“Ye can come out now,” Jamie spoke, his voice hushed as he turned a little. He could see her slumped behind the hillock, catching a brief movement out of the corner of his eye as he stood still facing away for the most part.

Standing and brushing herself off, Claire stumbled down the wee bank and brought herself to Jamie’s side.

Holding out her hand, she wiggled her fingers towards his blood-stained ones, not saying a word as she summoned his knuckles for inspection.

“You should be more careful, Mr MacTavish. You could easily pop the joint if you catch it wrong. Tree bark isn’t known for its gentle properties you know,” she teased as she turned his battered fingers over in her hand, examining the damage as carefully as she was able.

“Jamie, please mistress,” he whispered, nothing but humour in his tone, “…and trees are safe, Sassenach.”

Smiling, she tugged him over in the direction of the small fire he’d lit for himself and bid him to sit.

Pulling a small tin from her pocket, Claire reached for her small collection of medical supplies.

“Verra prepared, mistress Claire,” Jamie joked, quirking a brow at her stash. “Expecting to ha’ wounds to attend were ye?”

“Well,” Claire returned, too fast for Jamie to concoct a response, “if *you’re* involved –Jamie– there is bound to be physicking required.”

That silenced him, and he kept his mouth shut whilst Claire finished off cleansing his cuts and bandaging them to avoid the filth of the road.

Though large, Jamie’s hands weren’t callused. Working as he did with heavy tools, Claire had assumed differently, but as she twisted and turned them about, ensuring her handiwork would stand the test of their arduous journey, she realised that they were incredibly soft and mostly free from scars.

She recalled that first day in the stables at Leoch and his tales of outlawry. It was hard to imagine, with him here now in front of her, that he was wanted for murder. Looking up at him, she could see the firelight glint in his aqua eyes, the red/yellow tint shining in his vivid irises.

He had a kind face and a gentle touch. Nothing about him suggested violence or danger.

Licking her lips, she shifted her bottom, her knees slipping further apart as she leaned closer.

Unaware of her subtle movements, Jamie had almost completely closed his eyes now. Lulled by her rhythmic ministrations, he’d chosen blissful ignorance ahead of actively contemplating what he might like to do with Claire.

Her skin glowed in the flames, the pale ivory of her flesh catching the dim flickers as it illuminated her from behind. She was something –otherworldly.

Cracking, the fire spat out a stray piece of ash as it sparked and settled once more, shocking Claire as she shimmied closer to Jamie in an attempt to stay away from the burning debris. The action brought them nose and nose, and Claire held her breath as she tilted her head to the right, sliding the tip of her nose along the bridge of his.

He smelt…intoxicating. Whisky and woodsmoke lined his skin, the calm puffs of his breath wafting over her lips as she held herself steady.

She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the moment she felt his tongue peek out from behind his lips, darting out to moisten his dry skin, she was lost. Leaning forwards she took his mouth against hers, sucking his upper lip between her teeth as they moved together unconsciously.

Claire didn’t recall turning, but before she could pull herself away and apologise for her rash actions, she was on her back in the leaves, her legs parted as Jamie angled himself as close to her as he could get, tugging his kilt out of the way in the process.

Too late, she realised, as she pulled her skirts up, wrapping her feet around Jamie’s knees and urging him forward with her body.

Gasping, she opened her eyes as bare skin came into contact with bare skin, her head unable to comprehend the actions that had led them here. Jamie’s brow was scrunched tight, his eyes clenched as he fought not to simply thrust his hips forward and end this subtle dance. Claire could see it in his face, how much he ached to let go, how much he wanted to twist his hips and sheath himself deep inside her, but something was holding him back.

“Y-you haven’t…have you?” Claire stammered, the dull thud of her heart audible in her ears as she spoke, “you’ve never lain with a woman before.”

Shaking his head vehemently, Jamie pursed his lips together and rolled his arse in time with Claire, her thighs tightening around his hips as he felt the telltale dampness coat him.

Gasping, Claire rocked herself closer still, angling herself into the right position for him to simply slide himself upwards…

She waited, her heart picking up pace as she tried to stay as motionless as possible.

“It’s alright, Jamie,” she coaxed, pushing her shoulders against the cold ground to lever her upwards as she kissed him softly, her tongue lingering on his lips as she relaxed once more, “I want this…I want *you*.”

Pushing himself inside her, Jamie moaned, his whole body trembling as his will broke, her words shattering the carefully built wall that had kept him from destroying Claire’s fragile reputation.

Unable to think, he let his body guide him. Claire’s hand roamed over his shirt-clad back and down until she’d pulled his kilt up further. The cold air slid along his exposed legs, causing his arse to clench as she took one naked cheek in each palm and directed him.

Digging her heels into the sodden earth beneath her, Claire let her legs fall open wider, her knees almost touching the ground as she met Jamie’s movements. Pushing her groin against his over and over again, grinding herself against him to create as much friction as possible.

With one final groan, Jamie juddered, tensed and flopped against Claire, his energy spent as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck.

Panting, Claire twined her legs with his as the tingling faded from her extremities.

Rendered insensible by the blinding lust that had just consumed them, both Claire and Jamie lapsed into unconsciousness, the chilly air unable to penetrate the heat their combined bodies had just created. Steam seemed to hang in the space around them as the fire dwindled, a fine mist encasing the now-sleeping lovers.

Coughing – loudly – Murtagh kicked Jamie’s filthy boots as he crossed his arms, his ire showing openly on his face.

“Ay! Laddie…wake up ye lazy dolt!”

Stunned by the sharp intonation of his godfather’s voice, Jamie hunched his shoulders to hide the shock he’d just received at being so rudely woken. Forgetting himself, his hands tightened on Claire’s shoulders, his sleep-hazed state making him feel as if she’d always been there, not remembering that she was a new addition to his nighttime routine.

Tugging the shawl around her half exposed shoulders, the colour drained from Claire’s face as the sudden realisation of her late night actions sunk in. Untangling herself from Jamie’s grasp, she sat up and slowly opened her eyes.

She prayed that only Murtagh stood before them, hoping beyond hope that she could convince the dour Scotsman to turn a blind eye to her less than reputable actions. But luck wasn’t on her side.

“I see our feral cat has some…impressionable skill at leading men astray,” Dougal muttered, his tone dripping with derision.

Claire could picture the look on his face without having to see it, but she was no coward. Opening her eyes fully, she rolled her shoulders back and clenched her teeth together to avoid saying something cutting in return.

Jamie remained silent too, his hands grappling to find hers as he rubbed some manner of warmth back into her digits, calming her as he did so.

“Uncle,” he began, an air of warning to his tone, “dinna go throwing insults around, aye?”

Scoffing, Dougal twisted the knife in his palm, using its sharp point to balance it precariously in the centre of his hand. “What else would ye have me call it,” he mocked, his eyes narrowing to slits as he began pacing in front of them.

Murtagh remained quiet now, his focus solely on Jamie as he tried to block out the view he’d had of the intimate moment between Jamie and Claire. Not meaning to catch them in the act, he’d come searching for his godson only moments after Claire had. Knowing the lad probably needed some alone time, he’d waited for just a wee bit longer than normal before heading off after him.

He’d had time to think as he’d clambered away from the scene, eager not to hear any more of their amorous activities. Desperate to keep the others in the rent party away, Murtagh had occupied the group with bawdy songs and whisky until most had passed out drunk.

Dougal, however, saw through the act. Noticing that Jamie hadn’t returned and that Claire had seemingly vanished, he’d bided his time before creeping off in search of the pair of them.

Finding them curled up, asleep by the fire he’d watched Jamie stoke earlier, a devious smile had lit his face and he’d snuck back off to contemplate his next move.

“Weel, tis of no matter,” Dougal continued, smirking as Jamie’s face turned a lurid red. Claire gulped loudly, her pulse throbbing painfully as her throat felt like it might close. She could tell from the devious look on Dougal’s face that this wouldn’t end well.

“No matter?” Jamie spat out, incensed by his uncle’s games.

“Aye, my boy. Ye ken the way of it. If you canna keep yer legs closed there are consequences.”

“Don’t you dare–” Claire began, her embarrassment completely fizzling now. Replaced, instead, with white-hot burning rage.

“Och, I *dare*,” Dougal sneered, interrupting her diatribe, “mistress Beauchamp. If you canna contain yerselves, then you will have to be marrit. Do I make myself clear?”

Claire’s eyes widened, her heart stuttering in her chest as the words found purchase in the air around them.



How could she…?

She was *already* married.

Jamie’s hand tightened on hers, the warmth of it silently soothing her frayed nerves.

“Married?” Murtagh whispered, echoing Claire’s unspoken sentiment. “Are ye mad, Dougal?”

“Am I…? No. I amne. We dinna ken fer sure, but he’s lain wi’ her now, she could be with child. It has been known. Do you wish her to be kent as a hoor, spoilt goods for anyone to take a wee keek at?” Dougal glowered, his advantage hard pressed to be beat.

Even Murtagh couldn’t disagree with his assessment of the situation.

“Married…” Claire murmured, her voice sending warm shivers down Jamie’s spine as he brought her closer to his side. The shuffling of the leaves around them made Claire blink as she turned to stare at her husband-to-be. “Jamie, I-”

“Hush, Sassenach,” he interjected, quashing her apology before she could voice it. “I promised I’d look out for you at Leoch, didn’t I?” he reminded her, his kind eyes holding hers as she nodded in reply. “And that hasne changed between here and there.”

Turning back to Dougal and Murtagh, Jamie clasped his hand around Claire’s back and brought them both to their feet. “Aye, uncle,” he agreed, holding his hand out as if to cement the *arrangement*, “but I have three conditions…if we’re t’ be wed.”

Laughing, Dougal shook his head, running his hand over the peak of his forehead, “T’would be easier to just kill ye both!” He jeered, a tiny hint of promise in his tone.

“That is as maybe,” Jamie returned, an equally dark hint to his voice as he gently drew patterns over Claire’s back, “but much harder to explain, wouldn’t you agree?”

Spitting a mouthful of saliva at his feet, Dougal blinked slowly and turned from the pair, stomping off once more in the direction of Rupert and the others.

Claire exhaled, her lungs pulsating from holding in the oxygen for so long. Leaning her head against Jamie’s shoulder she made to apologise once more, only finding herself incapable of speech, decided instead to forego it in favour of clenching his hand softly in hers.

Sensing her meaning, Jamie kept her close, turning them both in Murtagh’s direction as they awaited his reaction.

Quirking a bushy brow, Claire saw his lips twitch beneath his thick beard as he reached forward and smacked Jamie, his fingers catching Jamie’s thick curls, the smack echoing through the trees surrounding them.

“Foolish boy…” he spat, keeping his voice low as he went from anger to acceptance in two words, “it’s a dangerous game yer playing here. Ye ken well how changeable Dougal can be. How easy his moods slip from playful caution to deadly.”

Shrugging off Murtagh’s warning, Jamie sighed and kissed Claire on the forehead. “Then maybe it’s best if we’re wed quickly, aye?” He replied, walking himself and Claire in the direction of the camp.

Murtagh hovered behind them for just a moment, scratching his head as he watched the pair walk away, seeing the strange closeness they’d come to accept in just one short evening. “Aye,” he mumbled. “I guess ye had.”

“In a church!” Jamie yelled, his head turned towards Murtagh, a coy smile lighting his face, “afore a priest.”

9A (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: There’s something romantic about passing notes on a plane.

Word Count: 1,450

Warnings: Alcohol mention

A/N: I’m gonna be on various flights all week and what better way to pass the time than daydream up various situations like this? Told in Lin’s perspective! Ignore the fact that the flight attendants were assisting guests from back to front.

Lin was convinced he had forgotten the entire English language with how difficult it was proving to be to write something as simple as an email. It wasn’t even an email about anything substantial, Disney was just wanting him to plan his next meeting before the wheels of his plane were even off the ground, as per usual. He normally would have no problem scheduling it but they needed him to head this next one so the animators could get down first draft sketches for his song, a song he had yet to finish, and they needed a proposal by tomorrow morning.

‘Boarding Priority Access and Families’ the sign blinked and Lin gave up, shoving his phone into his pocket. It was the first time he had looked up from his phone since he had passed through security forty minutes ago when he met your eyes, he blinked in shock. The colors in your eyes danced in the sunlight as you offered him a soft smile before your eyes flitted onto the next thing that was lucky enough to capture your attention.

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Characters: Bones x Reader

Request: none, but it was inspired by @bkwrm523‘s post about back pain and migraines… and i’m stressed so that too

A/N: I feel like I haven’t written bones in forever and I was missing my grumpy doctor <3. No grump here, tho, just gratuitous fluff and some smut 

Warnings: light smut, fluff, lil bit o angst?, jerk spock in the beginning

Words: 2960

tags: @outside-the-government @yourtropegirl

The sound of glass shattering makes you jump and turn around in alarm.  A few feet behind you one of your rookie techs is standing near a lab bench behind you, staring in shock at the broken glass at her feet.  In an instant you know what it is; the mini habitat you’d constructed in the lab to mimic the conditions of the last planet the Enterprise had visited.  Your team, led by you and overseen by Commander Spock himself, had been tasked with studying the various flora and fauna the team had retrieved from the surface of the planet.  This particular terrarium had contained the beginnings of a fruit bearing bush, one that the commander had been particularly interested in for its healing properties.  The only sample had been in that tank.  Which was in pieces, on the hard floor of your lab.  

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anonymous asked:

can you pls talk to me about the way Magnus holds himself in pandemonium when we first see him, all that power in the way he stands and makes his way through the club because I'm so gay and good lord

i’m also gay and good lord but how about the next time we see him there

it’s been months and he knows it, busy with his other work, busy with house calls and jumping across the globe, it’s been hard to get a moment in edgewise to visit the club. but he always loves being there. it’s hard not to. it’s hard not to feel himself easily stitching in the fabric of his club and feeling the eyes of the club on him as he walks in through the door with his coat hanging loose on his shoulders.

there’s very little skin on show tonight, shirt buttoned to the very top of his throat, but it’s a silky kind of see through, beautiful embroidered flowers crawling over the tight definition of his chest and his stomach. layered necklaces spill down the rest, glinting and catching the lights along with his rings as the crowd parts just slightly as he glides through it and up to the bar. it’s this beautiful thing, perfectly fluid, pulling his coat off his shoulders and hanging it on one of his fingers.

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X-Files Fic: What Was Taken, What Was Lost- Chapter Two

Chapter one is here.

The chill is what wakes Mulder, along with the sounds of the storm outside, much louder than they should be from inside the hotel room.  He sits up, shivering, and sees that across the room, the French doors to the balcony are standing ajar.  The blizzard is still going strong outside, and the wind is blowing snow into the room.  Mulder leaps out of bed and runs over, stubbing his toe on the leg of the bed and swearing loudly, and pushes the doors closed again, latching them securely.

Stepping back, he rubs his hands over his unclothed arms.  While the room is frigid, the carpet beneath his bare feet isn’t very wet, which tells him that the doors couldn’t have been open long, otherwise much more snow would have blown in.  The latch is a sturdy one, and an experimental jiggle of the handle reveals that it’s not loose.  Did whoever closed it last not pull it completely shut, allowing the wind to blow it open?  He doesn’t remember Scully opening it at any point since their arrival, and he knows that he hadn’t opened it.  Maybe housekeeping had failed to latch it properly?

As he’s standing there thinking, staring out into the whirling flakes, there’s a soft snuffle from the bed, and he turns to look at Scully.  She’s fast asleep, curled on her side facing outward, and the covers have slipped down to her waist.  She’ll be cold, Mulder thinks to himself, and he tiptoes quietly to her side and pulls the blankets up over her shoulders, tucking them gently around her.  She sighs softly in her sleep, and he smiles.


He jumps at the sound, which he thinks came from the hallway.  It’s not a particularly loud noise; it’s as though something has been dropped on thick carpeting.  He wonders if another guest, wandering the halls at night, is out there… but he hears no footsteps.  Frowning, he crosses to the door and eases it open, sticking his head out into the hallway.

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markhyuck criminal minds au
  • donghyuck is the tech analyst 
  • was caught by the fbi after hacking into their database for the millionth time (he’d been on their watchlist since he was 13) and gets recruited into the behavioral analysis unit
  • really REALLY loves orange soda and cherry coke slurpees from 7/11 and will do just abt anything for barbecue lays chips 
  • mark is the new profiler hired by the bau fresh out of quantico
  • he graduated top of his class and every department in the bureau wanted him but he chose to be a profiler instead 
  • very terrified of lee taeyong who is the lead supervisory agent of the bau n always stutters when he speaks up during meetings 
  • donghyuck tries to haze him during his first couple weeks and look intimidating but he literally plays ds games during his free time he’s about as intimidating as his prize nintendog ok
  • donghyuck thinks mark is super cute especially in a suit n when he gets all serious about a case bc otherwise he’s a bumbling awkward mess 
  • he constantly flirts with mark who is totally oblivious n the rest of the bau is completely FED UP
  • whenever donghyuck is called for a task he’ll only speak to mark n calls him babycakes n whatever disgusting pet name he can think of and gets extreme satisfaction from hearing mark stutter over the phone
  • one day donghyuck starts getting death threats from a serial killer n mark litERALLY WONT LET HIM OUT OF HIS SIGHT n camps out on donghyuck’s living room couch for two weeks straight until the dude is caught 
  • then he gets all embarrassed for suddenly being so protective of donghyuck n donghyuck won’t admit that he was totally playing up being the damsel in distress so that mark would pay attention to him 
  • finally taeyong n johnny (media liason, team dad) lock them in a janitor’s closet at headquarters n tell them to sort out their feelings n they wont be let out until they confess 
  • not even five minutes later they’re Officially Dating 
“Breakfast in bed really isn’t that original, you dork”

Originally posted by love-buckybarnes


Pairing: Chris Beck x reader

Warnings: FLUFFY with a tiny bit of sexual references

Word count: 1.688

Summary: After Chris returns to Earth, you are finally able to peacefully wake up in his arms again, or so you think.

A/N: Part of the Valentine’s challenge as hosted by @oneshot-shit (prompt in bold) and this is also for the amazing @writing-soldiers, seriously, go check her out!

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embraceyourfandom  asked:

Imagine that one of them is an alien xenobiologist who falls in love with a human he is just supposed to be observing.

A/N: Tagged for violence. And pining. Also, looooong. Thanks to the OP for a truly great prompt.

The Terran’s smile was sunny. As warm and as golden as the G-type main sequence star his small blue world orbited. Phi'l found it impossible to control the tendency of his lips to quirk up in response. He’d stopped trying weeks ago.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Phil,” the Terran said, strong fingers tracing the rim of his coffee mug, “but you’re kinda weird.”

Around them the hum and flow of conversation in the busy coffee shop was a soothing, pleasant drone punctuated by the fierce hiss of the big copper coffee machine behind the bar and the clank of cutlery against porcelain. Outside, the weather, still uncontrolled and unpredictable on this less advanced world, spat sleet into crowded streets. The humidity on Terra was higher than Phi'l was accustomed to, the gravity lighter and the temperature was too warm even in late autumn. But here inside the coffee shop the impossibly rich smell of butter and vanilla, of sugar and coffee and the sweet aroma of steamed milk, of woollen coats drying on pegs by the antique oak door, of the dizzying array of scent from Terran skin, all combined into an intoxicating haze that made him forget everything but the fascinating sapient sitting across from him at the small table.

“Am I?” Phi'l hid a twinge of unease behind a sip of coffee. He’d been very careful. But Terra was a new contact, sparsely studied. Central didn’t know much about the intricacies of the various cultures of Earth. He’d been thorough in his research—of course, he was thorough in everything he did—but there was always the risk of error.

“Yeah, you are,” the Terran's—Clint Barton's—eyes were bright with mischief. Phi'l relaxed a fraction, realizing it was unlikely he was in danger of being exposed. That he was only being teased. Flirting had been a difficult concept at first but it was fast becoming one of his favorite things. Especially when it was directed at him from this Terran man. He struggled to focus on the wordplay, to stop getting lost in the blue-green of the Terran’s eyes.

He pried his gaze away, focused on the contents of his cup. “How so?”

“Well, a fancy guy like you, coming in here week after week, to have coffee with a guy like me.”  

“Like you? I don’t understand.”

“Well, I mean, lookit you. All—” Clint Barton made a vague circling wave in his direction. Phi'l frowned, baffled for a micron.

“Ah. You mean my attire.” Phi'l looked down ruefully at the perfectly tailored dark suit, the subtly silken waistcoat, the fine dark tie. This level of formality had been one of those errors he could have avoided if he had been more experienced with the culture. Here, in this Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York City, New York, United States of America, Terra, he stuck out like a bin!‘ti in a yarm'ot patch. Initially he’d chosen the attire because it felt familiar, comfortable, like the SHIELD Consortium uniform he’d spent his whole career in. He wasn’t sure he knew how to dress ‘casually’ anymore. Either here or on his own home-world.

Phi'l’s expression must have slipped into something Clint Barton found disconcerting. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. It's…I like it. You look, uh, y'know. Nice. Good.”

The warm glow Phi'l felt in his chest at the Terran’s words was also unfamiliar. He glanced away, hoping the man didn’t recognize how pleased he was at the compliment. He wasn’t sure his reaction was proportional. Or…appropriate.

“You, also…look good,” he said tentatively, hoping it was the correct thing to say. He looked up. This Terran’s emotions were always so close to the surface, his expression so honest, so unguarded. Clint Barton seemed unconvinced but there was a trace of high color on his cheeks as he looked back openly. Phi'l could smell the heat in his face, the blood rising up, so close to the surface of his skin. Warm, alluring.

“Aw,” he said, “not really. Everyone says I look like ten miles of bad road.” Clint Barton self-consciously picked at the edge of one of the plasters that criss-crossed his forearms.

Ten miles of…what? What did that have to do with—? But the Terran’s pained expression was easy enough to read.

“You don’t,” Phi'l said, with maybe just a little too much force. Clint Barton looked up, startled. “…look like…road. You're— ”

Phi'l paused, off-balance, feeling his way. His last scholarly paper on intertribal diplomacy among the VosTo'kk of Altair Six had won two Imperiale Awards. His efficiency and ability to communicate within the Consortium was, although it wasn’t a word he would have chosen, legendary. He routinely declined speaking engagements that would have funded his retirement twice over, had he been interested in retiring. Why was being honest with this Terran so difficult? He took a breath and went at it from another direction.

“Clint Barton, the first time I saw you, you were actually rescuing a kitten from a tree.”

Clint Barton laughed. “Well, you helped—”

“The second time I met you, you had just given a homeless man all of your currency.”

“That’s why you had to buy me coffee. Maybe that was part of my evil plan.”

“—and your coat. And scarf. And it was 0.5C.”

Clint Barton shrugged, looked down at the tabletop. “I could get another coat easier than that guy.”

“Then there was the time that I happened to observe you jumping out of the third floor window of the Alcot building to apprehend a man who had just stolen a student’s backpack, fracturing your foot.”

“And you rode with me to the clinic. You didn’t hafta do that.”

Phi'l paused helplessly, trying to summon the strength to speak clearly. He sat back in his chair. “You’re impossible,” he finally said.

Clint Barton huffed out a breath. “Believe it or not,” he said, “it’s not the first time someone told me I’m a pain in the ass.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, where I come from, you’re impossible.”

Clint Barton looked up.

Phi'l stumbled on. “You simply…couldn’t exist. You could only have come from here. I’ve never met anyone like you in all of the wor—, all of the places I’ve been. You are a unique construct of this place, this time. And it is so improbable that I would have met you just by random chance that it takes my breath away. I didn’t know that someone like you could exist.”

Phi'l didn’t add that the desire to take his Terran man into his care, to treasure him, to protect him, had been growing over the weeks since their first encounter and was, by now, almost overwhelming.

“I sometimes feel I’ve been waiting my whole life to have met you,” Phi'l finished softly, just now realizing the truth of it.

He realized he had erred, had overstepped convention with his honesty, when he looked up and saw the Terran’s shocked expression.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry if that was too—”

“No, no!” Clint Barton’s voice was pained, urgent. “I,” he said, “you—” Then he seemed to give up all at once and grabbed Phi'l’s hand.

Phi'l gasped. The Terran’s basal metabolic rate was much higher than the people of his own world. The shocking warmth of his grasp hit Phi'l’s nervous system like the injection of a powerful drug, like a wave of plasma that swept though him, warming every part of him, igniting parts of his body he’d forgotten he even had through long years of nothing but the cold adherence to duty and the vast black emptiness of space.

He struggled, trying to keep his breath under control. Fought the sudden impulse to reach out and take more of him, keep more of this, hold him close, claim him.

“Phil,” Clint Barton said, “that’s actually the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.” The Terran’s expression was wondering, disbelieving. As earnest and open as a youngling’s.

Phi'l fought to focus beyond the salient fact of the man’s hand on his skin. “It’s true,” he said. “And it is only right that you should know it is true.”

A silence fell. And in that moment, in all of the galaxy, Phi'l was aware of only two things—the buzz and hum of energy of the Terran’s hand against his own and the deep amazing colour of his eyes. Then Clint Barton seemed to realize what he was doing and withdrew. He raised his hand to the back of his neck, rubbed at the short hairs of his nape with a grimace.

“Uh, Phil—would you like to get dinner with me?”

Phi'l blinked, trying to regain his composure. “Dinner? We have just eaten breakfast.”

Clint Barton’s expression showed him that he was missing something.

“No, I mean dinner dinner.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“How ‘bout you let me explain it to you tomorrow night, huh? What do you say, 8pm, Anthony’s down the street, meet you there?”


The hard buzz of the communicator in Phi'l’s breast pocket startled him. If the ship was contacting him in what was nominally supposed to be immersive field work it was deadly serious.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I must take this.” He retrieved the communicator, disguised to look like a Terran phone, out without meeting Clint Barton’s eyes. “Yes?” he snapped in full command voice, only realising he’d forgotten his mild-mannered alias as an insurance adjustor when Clint Barton flinched across the table.

May’s tone was clipped, efficient. “Regrets for the interruption, Commander. We’ve just detected a HYDRA ship in orbit, we need you back up here.”

[[Read more, or the whole thing entire on AO3]]

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Punish [Rick Grimes x Reader]

Thank goooood someone is writing oneshots about Rick they’re so hard to find. Can I request one please? Or do you take requests at all? If so I’d like to request one where Rick is the readers DaddyDom and reader is his little girl. DDLG with so much dirty talk. If you don’t take requests I’m sorry lol

Hope you all enjoy! ❤️

Originally posted by painfulblisss

Warnings: Daddy Kink, DDLG relationship, SMUT, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Rough Sex, Punishment, Oral Sex (male receiving), Unprotected Sex, orgasm denial, slight d/s

Words: 1,505


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Swapped Contacts (request)

Request: could you do an imagine where the reader gets a new phone and the contacts get messed up so after she hangs out with josh, she texts her best friend a message about how in love she is w josh & “i know ive said it a thousand times before but i just like him so much” and it gets sent to josh instead and he responds back something like “hey this isnt (best friends name) uh, its josh.” or maybe he facetimes her. idk but josh tells her he likes her back n its rly cute aa

A/N: Thank you for your request! I loved the idea and writing it, I hope you enjoy it! :) xx


Words: 1531 

Triggers: None (at least I think so, if not, please tell me!)


As soon as you closed the door, after saying goodbye to Josh, you slide down on it. Burying your face in your hands, you let a frustrated groan out.

Even if you had fun hanging out with Josh, it was a slight torture for you. Stupid you and your stupid feelings. Why did you have to fall for one of your closest friends? Especially for Josh, which you will never ever have even the slightest chance with.

But that boy was just perfect, so no wonder that he stole your heart. He was humble, funny and had a heart of pure gold. Whenever you were feeling down or needed a shoulder to cry onto, Josh was there. He was perfect, in every meaning. But that’s the problem, he was too perfect. So perfect that he deserves so much better than you. That’s why you never told him about your feelings for him. You were afraid that you would loose him as your friend, so you decided to say nothing. The only person who knew about your enormous crush was your best friend Amber.

Speaking of her, you needed to rant about your stupid feelings, in order to feel better. It always goes like this whenever you hung out with Josh. You wrote her, telling her how stupid you are for falling for someone who is way out of your league. She would always try to convince you to just man up and tell him, the chances of Josh feeling the same way being there. But you didn’t want to believe her so you stayed by your plan of keeping shut.

You fiddled around in your back pocket of your jeans, searching for your phone. It was new since your old one died. So new, that you had major problems with it. After numerous attempts of finding her number and opening the messenger app, you finally wrote her.

To: Amber <3
I know I’ve said it already like 12532663 times but I feel like every time I see Josh, I like him more and more and it’s just ughh, how does one stop crushing on a guy? He’s so perfect and I’m just me and I will never have a chance with him and that’s driving me insane rn

You pressed send and stood up, making your way to your kitchen. Maybe ice-cream could help your aching heart. After all, Ben and Jerry are always good listeners.

As you drowned your sorrow, you wondered what took Amber so long to answer. Normally she replies within the first five minutes and it’s already 20 minutes later after you’ve sent that message.

After waiting for more 10 minutes, Amber finally replied. Or at least you thought so.

From: Amber <3
Hey this isn’t Amber, (Y/n), uhm, it’s actually Josh

You dropped your phone onto the kitchen isle. Holy frickin’ Cow. After all of the people you had saved in your contacts, it must have been Josh? Why?!

Before you could even think about a way to tell him that the message wasn’t the truth, just a bad joke, you got an incoming FaceTime call from Amber. Or more likely Josh. You hesitated to pick up, would you really want to face him now? After confessing your abnormally big crush on him? You didn’t want Josh to make fun of you.

But sooner or later, you had to face him again, if you wanted to or not. So why not do it now? Maybe he will believe you when you say that it was a joke.

So after ending your internal battle, you accepted the incoming FaceTime call. Just like you thought, it was Josh’s face on your screen, not Amber’s. Dang it.

„So before you say anything, I- The message wasn’t supposed to be sent to you, it was meant for Amber! And I- uhm, it was a joke, okay? Nothing more. Speaking of it, I did mean to send you the message! It wouldn’t make sense if I sent it to Amber, would it? So okay, now that this is cleared up, I have to go do something, Bye!“ You rambled on and on, your face getting redder and redder. Just as you wanted to end the call or more your misery, Josh stopped you.

„(Y/N)! Slow down, okay? So what you’re saying is, what you wrote in the message isn’t true?“ Before you could even register what your head was doing, you nodded. As soon as you confirmed Josh’s assumptions, his face dropped. He kind of looked sad, like you just destroyed his birthday cake he waited for all year. What…?

„Uhh, okay, I should go now. Bye (Y/N)“  Just as you wanted to tell him the truth because there was the slight chance that he may like you back, he ended the call, leaving you with a blank screen.

Josh truly looked devastated, maybe Amber was right. Maybe he does have feelings for you, more than just for a good friend. As soon as the realization hit you, you grabbed your car keys and ran out of your apartment. Maybe you were crazy for doing this, but if there was even the smallest chance of Josh liking you, you knew you had to take it. Even if it meant embarrassing yourself in front of him.

Never before, you managed to arrive as fast as now at Josh’s apartment. Practically running to his front door, you ringed his doorbell like a crazy maniac. You probably looked like one as well.

It took him only a few moments to open his front door, but for you, it felt like a lifetime. And slowly but surely your new found self-confidence and the feeling that he may like you back faded. You started to debate if it even was a good idea to drive to and confront him. But Josh opened his door and now there was no turning back for you.

Josh looked surprised, to say the least, to see you standing on his door step, out of breath with probably smeared ice-cream on the corners of your mouth. You really should have checked your outer appearance before doing this. Before he could even greet you or ask what you were doing at his place, you took your last remains of self-confidence and started to talk. Or more like ramble.

„I lied, okay? I do have this big enormous and stupid crush on you and believe me, I tried everything to get rid of it because you’re my friend and I’m not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for you, but I do and I can’t change it. I’m sorry that I probably destroy our friendship with this, but as I told you that it was only a joke, you looked so disappointed, like you hoped that my crush on you was real. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you feel the same but when I think about it now, it was stupid of me. You’re way out of my league and I’m sorry that I had to tell you about my stupid feelings and that I just made our friendship thousand times more weird and embarrassing, I hope you-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Josh kissed you. Like actually kissing you.

You probably looked like you’ve seen a ghost because you couldn’t take the fact in that Josh Dun was kissing you. But you quickly snapped out of your haze and kissed him back, and oh boy, did it feel good.

After some more moments, the two of you broke apart. You’re still utterly confused on why he actually kissed you. Just as you wanted to speak up, again, Josh interrupted you.

„I like you too, (Y/N), more than in just a friendly way. Or in your words: I have this big enormous and stupid crush on you, too. I just never thought that you would feel the same until you’ve sent that message.“

„Thanks to my dumb mobile phone then, which somewhat switched my contacts around“ You laughed, Josh joining in. Your face already hurt from grinning so much but you didn’t care because he actually likes you and even kissed you.

„Yeah thanks to your phone“, Josh seemed suddenly somewhat nervous again, before speaking up. „Do you wanna be my girlfriend? I mean, we practically confessed our undying love for each other but I wanna make sure that you’re finally mine.“ Josh shrugged, grinning again.

You rolled your eyes because he’s such a dork, before kissing him softly on the lips. „Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend“

As Josh leaned in to kiss you again, your phone began ringing, showing an incoming call from Josh.

„I’m gonna assume that this is Amber, I’m sorry but I need to take this.“ Josh nodded, signaling you to accept her call.

„(Y/N)! Everything alright? You normally call or write, after you and Josh hung out, I just wanted to make sure that everything’s good.“ You laughed, before telling her that everything is alright and that you do need to tell her some things. And that’s exactly what you did, while you cuddled with your new boyfriend on his couch.

Punk/Tattoo Shop HCs

(It’s been too long since I did any “original” content so like take this and run with it I guess?)

-Mark is COVERED in tattoos
-probably wears a “tattoo daddy” cutoff shirt
-not so much that he doesn’t have any bare skin left or anything but, two full sleeves, a chest piece, both hands and knuckles are done, he’s got a back piece started and a few scattering his legs
-he’s also got a septum piercing, small gauges and a few other piercings in his ears, along with his tongue. He’s also got his bellybutton pierced because he’s fucking adorable okay? And of course, his nips are pierced
-working in a tattoo shop, he’s the best in the shop with script and with portraits, but is good at other kinds of tattooing as well
-quiet but will talk to you if you talk to him when he’s tattooing
-loves opening up guest spots in the shop whenever possible, always leaving room for Felix to come when he wants to, always an open door for the Swede and his girlfriend

-no tattoos because he’s not super crazy about them on himself, funnily enough, and also because he doesn’t want to chance anything with his kidneys
-he’s got a few piercings, though
-he had his eyebrow done and his nose done, and he had one little stud on his lower lip
-he’s the house piercer and has most of his clients in and out in under twenty minutes
-he’s very talented at doing black and grey tattooing
-some people scoff at him, because he doesn’t have any tattoos but people rave about his work
-but when they see him bang out some of the most intense tattoos they’d ever seen, they gained the utmost respect for him
-talks quietly to you while you’re getting pierced or tattooed, but is generally pretty quiet

-Jack has that hipster tattoo artist style
-his throat and his chest are covered and his hands and knuckles are brightly colored
-constantly trying new local coffees from family owned shops around the tattoo shop
-always loud and talkative when he tattoos and has his clients laughing and talking back to him
-he’s got the hollows of his hips pierced and he’s got a cheeky tongue piercing and a dermal under his eye on his cheekbone
-loves doing anything neotraditonal and anything referencing movies or pop culture

-apprenticing under Mark
-is only allowed to do very simple, small pieces because he is still learning
-he’s very quiet and careful when he’s tattooing anyone outside of his own circle
-because with his own friends, if he’s shaky on his linework or shading, he knows he’ll be able to fix it for them once he’s got the practice and knowledge
-but it’s a totally different story on his clients
-the rest of the guys don’t haze him too much, but they still tease him at most opportunities

-both of her arms are spattered with different pieces from everyone at the shop
-she’s got a cute nose ring
-she and Kat are basically the receptionists, but they help the guys in between appointments to strip down their chairs and sanitize them
-constantly taking pictures of the guys and their works so that she can keep their social media updated

-always goes on food runs and drink runs
-definitely knows the best places to get the best deals
-doesn’t have too many tattoos yet, something cute on her wrist and her ankle and she’s thinking about getting the tops of her feet done
-nicely turns down Ethan when he begs to tattoo something little on her because she’s not really sure what she wants done yet
-keeps the boys in line when they rip on Ethan a little bit because she knows when that blue boi gets upset but doesn’t want to say anything
-her cat is always at the shop with her, and nobody really minds all that much because it’s not hurting anything

Special Affair (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A/N: Remember like a month or two or however many ago when I was on a jealousy kick? c: This is just a little intermission snack for some Bruce/HANK (I MISS HIM) requests I’m workin’ on~ ♥

Word Count: 1936

“Again, I can’t express enough how thankful I am that you all came here tonight and how supportive you’ve been. I just wanted to remind everyone that the charity auction will be ending shortly, so don’t forget to place any last bids while you still can! Enjoy the rest of your night.” I stepped away from the mic stand and went back to all of my guests. I was hosting a sort of thank you dinner for Gotham Outreach, a non-profit organization myself and some college friends started to help the youth of this city. It was also the celebration of our first year running and I couldn’t have asked for more success for a starter organization.

 I was enjoying a laugh and champagne with my co-founders when I noticed a guest freeing himself from an older set of donors. “Bruce Wayne… I haven’t seen you all night, thought my invitation got lost in the mail.”

 “I was stuck in meetings all day but made sure to carve out my evening for this very special occasion.”

 I smiled. Never for a moment did he fail to be charming. “You know Mr. and Mrs. Dunham?”

 “They were long time friends of my parents. I grew up around their grandson.”

 “I see.”

 “This is an amazing turnout. I believe congratulations are in order.”

 “Thank you, thank you. Yeah, it’s beautiful isn’t it? I never imagined things would be this great.”

 “And I see some of the kids you’ve helped here.”

 I shook my head and looked around the event hall. “No… We all helped them. Everyone here, every donation, every helping hand. We all changed their lives.”

 “Y/N?” I turned around at the sound of my name from a vaguely familiar voice to see the face of an old friend.

 “Oh my G- Teddy??”

 He laughed and reached for a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Y/N!”

 “Yes yes, it’s been so long! Oh my goodness!”

 He turned to Bruce before extending his hand. “Bruce Wayne, a pleasure to meet you.”

 “Oh my gosh- Bruce, this is Tedd- I’m sorry. Dr. Theodore Durant.”

 “Nice to meet you, Dr. Durant.”

 “Please, call me Theo. The pleasure’s mine. It’s not everyday you get to meet Mr. Wayne Enterprises himself.”

 “I thought you were still in Syria?” I cut in before this became a boys club meeting.

 “I was up until two days ago when I remembered I had a very important charity event to attend.”

 I rolled my eyes. “Please, tell me you didn’t stop saving lives for champagne in Gotham.”

 “Champagne in Gotham with a very dear friend. Congratulations, Y/N.”

 “Thank you, Teddy.” I felt my face burn and took a sip from my champagne glass in attempt to hide any visible redness.

 “Saving lives?” Bruce asked, eyes suddenly staring dead into mine. If I wasn’t red before his stare would surely do the trick.

 “Oh, umm- Teddy’s busying himself lately doing some Doctors Without Borders work overseas. His latest venture was in Syria.”

 “Doctors Without Borders, that’s amazing. What kind of work are you doing?”

 “Pediatrics,” Teddy answered. “You know in another life, this one would have been right beside me doing the same thing,” he spoke, pointing his glass in my direction.

 “Oh no no. You see, I thought I could handle pediatrics until I thought of another more suitable way I could help out children.”

 “And here you are today…” The way Teddy spoke those words…  I looked at him and it seemed like he was in absolute awe of me. I wasn’t used to people being in awe, being proud of me. It was an unfamiliar but amazing feeling.

 “So you two… met in med school?” Bruce questioned.

 I snapped out of my haze, looking at him. “No, we met in undergrad school. We started dating a little ways through our second year.”

 “Oh. You two dated previously?”

 “Yes, but ended it after about five years and some change. Teddy was completely swamped getting prepared for med school and I was working with the co-founders here trying to plan the future of the Outreach. Two very busy times in both our lives, it wasn’t fair to either of us to try to carve out time for a relationship.”

 “I see. Admittedly I’m familiar with that unfortunate predicament.”

 “Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, relationship struggles? I wouldn’t believe that if I saw it with my own two eyes,” Teddy said before chuckling, shaking his head and drinking from his glass.

 “Trust me, it’s not as easy as some think.”

 “Teddy’s been generous enough to donate and send families in need of help to the Outreach. He’s been a great help, even all the way across the world.”

 “Well Gotham’s home. I don’t have to be here to want the best for this city. The best for you… Besides, you know my upbringing; I wish I had a Gotham Outreach when I was coming up-”

 “-Oh please, because you just turned out so terribly-”

 “- Hey, just because I turned my coal to diamonds doesn’t mean I didn’t wish I had more help along the way, alright?” We laughed together, Bruce silently huffing a laugh to himself before Teddy parted ways to make his rounds. He was only in town for a short while and had more familiar faces to catch up with, and while he insisted I refused to hog his time to myself.

 I shook my head to myself. “I can not believe he actually came. I thought it was wishful thinking sending him that invite, thinking word would ever get to him…”

 “Don’t think you’re worth the trip?”

I rolled my eyes and made my way over to the bar to grab another glass of champagne as Bruce walked with me. “He came here for the same reasons everyone else did: to support the Outreach.”

 Bruce nodded to himself. “Perhaps. Then again, maybe he gets a little lonely all the way in Syria…”

 I laughed. “Sometimes it shocks me when you let your sense of humor come out to play.”

 “Oh, am I joking now?”

 “What is it, Bruce? You wanna be the only handsome philanthropist in my life?” I teased.

 “So you think he’s handsome?”

 I laughed again. Of course he’d ignore the fact I was calling him handsome, too. “Here,” I said as I handed him a glass of bubbly, also grabbing one for myself. “Have a glass of champagne, maybe two. Loosen up and enjoy yourself, okay? I’m gonna go personally thank a few more people, check on the auction. You owe me a dance before you leave, you hear me?”

 “Well, can’t end the night without a dance, can we?”

 I grinned as I slowly backed away from him before turning around to tend to some of my other guests. When the time came for the winners of auction bids to be announced I took to the podium with the other co-founders and called names. As I walked down the stairs of the stage to return to the party, my partner Micah made his way back to the mic. “What better way to top off a beautiful evening of charity than to say that not only have we met our goal for tonight, but we are nearly twelve grand over! That being said we’re very grateful and are closing donations for the night; of course, any donations after tonight can be received through the Gotham Outreach website…” I listened for another second before hearing a familiar name. I looked around the room, at everyone applauding, before finding Bruce sipping from his glass. Once we made eye contact I made my way over to him. He rested his glass on the bar before I grabbed him by the hand to pull him to the floor for the dance I told him to save for me.

 We stared at each other and said nothing as we swayed side to side to the music the live band was playing. At least, we said nothing until he smirked and said a polite congrats to me.

 I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Thank you, Bruce. And you can relax now. You know he brought a date, right? She had an emergency surgery and had to leave shortly before we ran into each other.”

 “A date when he clearly came to see you? What a fool.”

 “Well he wasn’t the one that donated an absurd amount of money to score some extra points with me. I know you didn’t bid in the auction, and I heard Micah mumbling your name after announcing we reached our goal. I’m sorry, we far surpassed our goal”

 “What you call absurd I call the least I can do.”

 “Now you should be ashamed of yourself, Bruce Wayne. Using a time like this as an opportunity to strut like a peacock.”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about; I was moved by a good cause.”

 “If we’re being honest, a charity event isn’t the worst place to have a pissing match…”

 “There we go, finding the silver lining.”

 “Jokes aside, you know money doesn’t impress me. He’s donated just like you have, and you’ve both helped in other ways, too. This isn’t a who does it better contest, especially when you’re both so great at different things.”

 “Who said I was trying to impress you? I’m just as interested in helping Gotham’s youth as anyone here.”

 “You know, I’m in such an amazing mood tonight that I’m gonna choose to believe that.”

 He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. Now how good of a mood are we talking?” he mumbled after dropping his voice an octave or two, leaning closer to me.

 I chuckled. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

 “If I were a lesser man I would have kissed you here in front of him and everyone else already, although that’s not to say I don’t want to…”

 “You know I’m not kissing you in public. The last thing I want is to be plastered on the front of a newspaper as Bruce Wayne’s next conquest.”

 “Fine, then kiss me in the car on the way to my place.”

 “Ever the Lothario.”

 “Always a gentleman first. You’re in such a great mood, I can only think of one way to finish this night… ”

 I sighed. “You make a strong argument, Wayne.” His grip tightened just enough for me to look up at him into his eyes, kind but something less gentlemanly lurking behind them. Something feral. I had to look away if I was gonna stick to that no kissing in public rule. “I can’t just leave them to wrap up here.”

 He brought his hand from my waist to my forehead before his brow furrowed slightly. “You know… I thought you were looking a little green, but now…” He nodded to himself. “Now I see you feel a bit warm, too. I think you may have had a bit too much to drink, don’t you?” The corner of his mouth turned upward a bit before he winked at me. I laughed and shook my head. Who would have thought, Bruce of all people telling me to play hooky and ditch clean up duty.

 “… Tell them you saw me dash for the bathroom, looking pretty bad, then come get me.”

 “I’ll text you when the car’s outside ready for you. Now go.”

 “You’re fun when you misbehave, Wayne,” I purred as I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, backing away from him to head to the ladies’ room.

 “You haven’t seen me in action yet…”