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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Harley Quinn x Reader - Oneshot Request - Tattoo

Ok, I’ve had this request for ages, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it!

Request: I know that you have a lot of requests at the moment, so feel free to ignore this. I had a small idea for a reader x Harley: reader gets a tattoo of Harley's name in secret for Harley's bday but things go wrong when they try to hide it from her and she thinks they're ignoring her by not being close with her anymore. A fluffy ending maybe? If you want, you can add some smut in as well. I love the things you have written so far, if you find inspiration in this, maybe you can write just something?

I just stuck with fluff rather than smut if that’s alright? I’ve kind of been writing this on and off and it’s only short, but I hope it’s not too bad and I hope Harley isn’t too Ooc!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey, Sweetie…” Harley cooed, suddenly appearing behind you. You spun around, surprised to see her, and even more surprised at how close she was. Her hands automatically went to your hips, wanting to pull you intimately close, but you immediately flinched away from her hands. Harley didn’t move her hands, frozen and blinking in surprise at your reaction. “Sweetie?” She pouted in concern.

“Uh – sorry, Harls.” You mumbled awkwardly, glancing away. “I – uh – you just surprised me.” You confessed, hoping if she couldn’t look directly into your eyes, she wouldn’t be able to see the lie in them.

Harley didn’t seem completely convinced – unsurprisingly – by your poor excuse yet blinked a few more times before seeming to let it go, her face smoothing out again. “Well, I know a way ya can make it up to me…” She hinted, something flashing in her eyes as she stepped toward you again suggestively, her hands reaching for your sides again.

You instinctively stepped away from her again and this time Harley wasn’t able to hide the hurt on her face. “Whats ya problem?!” She demanded with a scowl.

“I’m just – uh – I mean – I’m – I’m just not in the mood.” You stammered awkwardly, turning away and running a hand through your hair before rubbing the back of your neck.

Harley eyed you sceptically, knowing nothing you were saying or doing was at all like you. “What did I feel?” She asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at your side.

“Bandages.” You said quickly, thinking at least some truth might help your case. “I – uh – I knocked myself up a bit last night, s’all.” You mumbled with a shrug. “Some naïve idiots thought to try to jump the innocent girl walking on her own - they – they paid the prize,” You reassured her, “But I was blinkered on my right.”

“Always are.” Harley muttered disapprovingly, and you nodded like this was sage advice. You knew it was something she always picked up on so, conveniently, this lie might be more palatable. Harley’s eyes flickered to your side again as though she could see through your shirt. “Felt like plastic though…” She muttered more to herself than you.

“Meant to stop by the chemist – we’re out of bandages.” You confessed, noting to yourself that you would have to ditch the ones you did actually have.

Harley continued to frown at your side for a few more seconds. “Fine, whatever.” She eventually dismissed with a wave of her hand as though she no longer cared. She moved as though to walk past you, “Ya better heal quick, though sugar…” She murmured, slowing at your side to lean in close to your ear, trailing her fingers along your jaw.

You turned your head to watch her over your shoulder as she then sashayed away down the hall from you, purposely – you thought – swinging her hips. Despite the frustration you felt from having to turn her away, you still breathed a small sigh of relief, lifting your shirt to check the new ink that ran across your right hip.

You glanced worriedly back down the now-empty corridor. Your excuse had been lame - and you hated to see the hurt or worry on Harley’s face - but you might just have bought yourself the time you needed until her birthday

“So, ya feelin’ betta?” Harley asked eagerly, bouncing down on the sofa next to you. You blinked at her sudden appearance, having through she’d gone out for the evening to the Pact’s hideout without you.

“Oh – um – getting better I think.” You admitted, shifting in your seat and trying to wince to show you were just being brave for her and were actually in no better state than before.

If Harley noticed, nothing in her face registered it, but instead of suggesting anything risqué like you expected, she just seemed to be seeking a cuddle – though the grin on her face made you wary. You agreed anyway, curling an arm around her as she snuggled into your side to watch the movie you’d put on.

It wasn’t long though till – as you had predicted – you felt her lips press into the base of your throat. You could feel your skin prickle under her breath as it blew lightly across your neck as her mouth travelled up to your jaw, pressing light, feather-like kisses as she moved. You couldn’t help tipping your head back to grant Harley better access to your throat and she happily obliged, now even nipping gently at the delicate skin. She had you so distracted by her touches in fact, that it was almost too late before you realised her hand – which had been casually laid over your chest - had now slid down your stomach and was slowly moving towards the edge of your shirt -

You caught her wrist almost harshly, and Harley jumped in surprise, the surprise on her face quickly being replaced with an annoyed pout. “Sweetie.” She protested with a scowl, sitting up and pulling away from your side. “Ya still not feeling it? Really?” She demanded, “Whatta ya do, lose a kidney?”

“Harley –“ You tried.

“Ya know what, I don’t wanna hear it.” She growled, holding her hands up in defeat, “Ya don’t want me? Fine. Ya don’t got me.” She stated firmly, pushing herself to her feet.

“Harley.” You called after her in exasperation, making as if to go after her, but faltering when you could see she was already flouncing angrily out of the doorway and you would have no chance of getting her to listen.

You sighed loudly, dropping back into your chair.

Well this wasn’t going to plan at all.

You decided to let Harley cool off. You knew in the state she had been in, she wasn’t going to be approachable, let alone in a mood to listen to what you had to say.

And you did plan to tell her the truth now.

You had been excited about your plan for her birthday – now only three days away – but you weren’t sure it was worth this. You’d originally planned for the tattoo to be done closer to the day, less time then for you to have to hide it – and yourself - away from Harley. However, time constraints and limited appointments left you having to spend nearly a week trying to avoid Harley frequent advances - something you never did, and something that clearly alarmed and annoyed Harley.

You just hoped it would blow over if you told Harley the truth – you didn’t think it was worth the risk of what it would do to your relationship if you tried to avoid her any longer though.

Hopefully she’d still appreciate the present even if it was a bit early.

Or at the very least she would forgive you.

You honestly couldn’t believe how much this had backfired, you thought, shaking your head at yourself as you headed across the hideout you and Harley often frequented. You’d left it till that evening to try to seek her out with the idea of leaving it long enough for Harley to calm down, but not too long that she would wind herself back up again.

You also hoped you’d be able to catch her before she decided she couldn’t stand her office any longer and tried to escape out to the streets for the night to blow off some steam.

‘Blowing off steam’ for Harley could mean anything from ending up dancing and flirting ridiculously all night, to blowing a few skulls to pieces in front of a police officer. Neither side of that scale particularly thrilled you right now and would both leave their own messes to clean up in the aftermath…

“Harley!” You called, catching sight of her now emerging from her room – often referred to as her office – dressed, as you predicted, to head out for the evening. She seemed to completely ignore you, her head held high as she strode past you. You rolled your eyes at her childishness, spinning around and lightly jogging after her, reaching out to catch a hold of her arm and stop her for just a moment.

When Harley felt your hand begin to pull at her, she immediately whipped around, rounding on you with a dark look. “I’m goin’ out.” She growled moodily.

“Harley,” You insisted almost annoyed as she pulled against your arm to turn away again. “Harley!” You demanded, tugging her to a stop, more harshly than you had meant, and Harley stumbled backwards a couple of steps into you. You saw the opportunity, immediately wrapping your arms around her in a plan to both steady her and hold her in place to stop her storming off again.

Harley blinked in surprise for a second before her scowl returned. “Whattya want?” She muttered bitterly, resigning herself to the prison of your arms without much argument.

“Let me explain myself.” You urged her desperately.

Harley crossed her arms under where your arms were wrapped tightly around her chest, seeing to consider this. “Fine.” She mumbled eventually, and you could almost her fire dying down. “But only ‘cause I thought ya loved me, and I wanna explanation.” She mumbled sullenly.

“I do Harley!” You insisted, tightening your hug around her in reassurance, “That’s why I want to explain this whole thing! It’s a mistake – a huge, horrible mistake and it’s all my stupid fault!”

“You’re damn right it is.” She muttered, but you thought you could see her face lighten slightly now, the scowl lines not looking quite so deep anymore. When you didn’t say anything more, she unfolded her arms with a sigh, letting them drop in defeat. “What did ya do?” She muttered reluctantly, but you could tell she had practically forgiven you already.

“I got you a birthday present,” You told her, loosening your hold on her so she could now spin in your arms to face you. “And I wanted to keep it a secret, but you were making it impossible.” You accused with a tiny, playful smirk, wary as to how Harley would take you attempt at a joke. “It was a tattoo.” You murmured when her expression didn’t seem to change. You released her to pull up the corner of your shirt to reveal the ‘Harley’ written in cursive over your hip. “My first one.”

Harley’s reproachful look dropped to the word scarred into your skin, but didn’t say anything, as though thinking how to respond. “You never were any good at keepin’ secrets.” She muttered finally, her stony expression crumbling and when she glanced back up to you, you could see her eyes were now filled with relieved tears. The next thing you knew, Harley had flung her arms around your neck, making you drop your shirt back into place as she pulled you into a choking grip.

“Well neither are you.” You pointed out weakly at her shoulder, your voice coming out croaky with emotion you didn’t realise you felt. It suddenly seemed to hit you that you’d actually come close to losing this crazy clown girl in your arms – a thought you could bear. You threw your own arms quickly back around Harley, hugging her tightly against you again and thinking you never wanted to let go. You could feel the tears slipping out of your own eyes now as the two of you stood in the middle of the hideout, clinging on to each other desperately and sobbing on the other’s shoulder.

Tags for Everything: @angelicshinigami@sheldonsherlocktony @beautifulbows924 @arkhamsurviour @thatwriterizzy @wanna-see-my-lease @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @nerdybirdyfiz @jemjem-chan

#thejokersenigma #thejokersengima fan fiction #harley #harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x reader fan fiction #harley quinn x reader one shot #harley fan fiction #harley quinn fan fiction #harley quinn oneshot #harley oneshot #dc fan fiction #batman telltale series fan fiction

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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When you’re juggling god knows how many different rough outline/pieces of writing/chapters and trying to get your head in character for another piece... ;)

#help me #what do i write next #haha #thejokersenigma #thejokersengima fan fiction

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Joker x Reader (Frost’s Daughter) - Frost’s Secret Part 4

Ok, I’ve probably just done something incredibly stupid, but with this chapter I’ve basically just guaranteed another, probably at least 3 chapters to this.... You’ll see when you read it...

I didn’t plan this... This is whole story is me purely winging this... haha... I’m just as unsure as you guys as to what is going to happen now!

Hope you like it - thank you for all the support on this series! :D

WARNINGS: Some swearing - like one word I think? haha

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN

MAIN MASTERLIST

FROSTS SECRET MASTERLIST

And so, you retuned to the warehouse every morning with your father.

Each night, Frost would ask you about what went on between you and the Joker, and each night you would tell him everything – only ever leaving things out where you honestly couldn’t remember.

Because nothing unusual ever happened.

The Joker, when he finally called for you, would simply sit you down in one room or another and talk to you for a few hours before he then returned to his work. It was almost as though you were his little break of peace between the stress of his usual scheming and trickery, J - as he had told you to call him - often coming into the room growling and grumbling about something having gone wrong, or the uselessness of those that worked under him, then sitting with you, chatting about anything other than his work, until his temper would cool again.

You were almost amazed how you were able pacify his moods and you didn’t mind him using you like that - even feeling slightly disappointed on the rare day that he either wasn’t in or didn’t call for you.

When you weren’t with the Joker, you spent your time with your dad, following him around and helping him like you had on the first day. You still felt far too vulnerable around the other men in the warehouse - except for the odd few you had befriended whilst with Frost, and whom your dad was happy to leave you with if he needed to disappear off to do something.

That’s where you were now. Your dad had to run an errand on the other side of town and had left with a small army – not particularly comforting you – leaving you in the capable hands of Luke, a guy only around five years older than you, who was currently sat at the same rickety table as you in the large ‘break’ room in the warehouse.

Luke was counting out a large pile of notes which you imagined was probably his cut of a large loot recently obtained in some illegal fashion. You hadn’t inquired about it though – not sure how touchy a subject it would be.

You watched him place dollar after dollar on top of each other, his lips moving silently as he counted.

You were bored. It was four o’clock and you hadn’t heard anything from the Joker yet. Maybe he was with your dad sorting out whatever was going on, or maybe he was busy elsewhere.

Maybe he was with another girl.

You felt a rush of jealousy run through you. You hadn’t known him that long, but you liked how you somehow seemed to fascinate the man that fascinated you. It was true, you had been scared of him for the first few days, but then slowly you had relaxed around him after actually having seen no reason to fear him. Sure, he occasionally lost his temper, but it was never at you, only those that interrupted the two of you – especially if it was with bad news.

Of course, you knew who he was and what he did. He was a thief. A psychopath. A murderer. The news channels continued to tell you that – reporting every other day on yet another crime the Joker had recklessly, yet so deviously, committed. But you felt no guilt for liking the man on the screen that caused these such atrocities. You felt distant from it all, as though the man on the screen wasn’t the man that sat with you each day, laughing and drinking milkshakes together.

Of course, you had to tread around what you said sometimes – one day something making him laugh, the next day making his jaw tense - but you were slowly learning to read his moods and catch the swings in them before they happened, though you were still rusty and several times you felt you had narrowly avoided a back hand to the face for your mistakes.

Yet this never put you off.

You must be going crazy yourself. Maybe he was rubbing off on you.

But you couldn’t help falling for the man.

And so, the thought of him now turning his attention on someone else, stung more painfully than you cared to admit to yourself.

You guessed it was inevitably really, how could you - a regular girl except for your father’s career choice - hope to hold the clown price of crime’s attention for long? His mind was fast, clever and practically insane, but it was also ever changing. You couldn’t be surprised that he was already looking for your replacement.

But it still hurt thanks to how fond you had grown of him over the last week.

You sighed heavily, staring down into the now-cold mug of coffee you were nursing in your hands.

“You alright, kid?” Luke asked, though his head remained down, focused on his task.

“Yeah, just – I dunno – feeling a bit iffy…” You muttered, the only way to describe the weird sinking butterflies in your stomach.

“Wanna call it a day?” Luke asked, finishing his stack of cash and glancing at his watch, then across at you in concern. “I doubt Boss’ll have time for you today, I can let Frost know.”

You paused to consider this for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I think I might.” You said, pushing your chair back and standing up. “Thanks.” You added with a weak smile.

“You alright, or do you need a lift?”

“Nah, I’ll be good, thanks.” You dismissed, just kind of wanting to be left alone right now, not in the mood to be stuck in car with Luke and forced to make conversation. The walk home might even do you some good.

You waved him goodbye and headed out of the room, wandering down the winding corridors you were slowly learning your way around, and pushing open a door you believed lead outside. You ended up in an alley behind the warehouse – not where you were aiming for, but at least you were out.

It was later than you had thought it was, the orb of a sun visible behind the sheet of grey clouds already setting behind the buildings that towered above you. You pulled your coat collar up and buried your hands into your pockets before following the alleyway around the side of the building and out onto the deserted street. You glanced both ways, then turned to start the lengthy trudge home.

“Frosty!” Came the call as soon as Frost walked into the warehouse a few hours later. He straightened up immediately to meet his boss as the Joker strode down the corridor towards him, looking completely unconcerned over the cut on Frost’s jaw, or the fat lip he was sporting.

“Boss?” Johnny questioned thickly, his lip stinging.

“[Y/N]. Where is she?” The Joker growled.

Frost frowned, certain that the message of [Y/N] having gone home should have already reached the Joker. “She returned to the flat.” He informed his boss.

“Don’t lie to me, Johnny-boy,” Warned the Joker with a snarl, advancing incredibly close to his henchman, a humourless grin plastered over his face. “I’ve already been to your little abode,” He told Frost, “and it was empty… Care to explain?”

Frost’s brow furrowed. That couldn’t be right. [Y/N] hadn’t mentioned any plans tonight - she had also left because she felt ill - he doubted she would have done much more than curl up on the sofa and watch a movie like she usually did when she was unwell.

“Excuse me, sir.” Frost muttered before taking a step back from where the Joker stood incredibly close and strode away towards the cargo bay.

Luke was helping to move boxes of ammo from one, of a series of unmarked vans, into one of the large cavernous store rooms. “Walker!” Frost called, and Luke peered around the large box he was carrying, before he then quickly made his way over to the store room, deposited his box, and then jogged back to meet Frost.

“Johnny?” He questioned with a confused frown, slightly out of breath from his exertions.

“Where did [Y/N] go?”

“I told you earlier, home.”

“You’re sure that’s what she said?”

“Yeah.” Luke furrowed his brow, “Why?”

Frost looked over at the other men still transporting the boxes from the van to storage. “Boss says she wasn’t at the flat.” He confessed gruffly. “He’s not happy, and neither am I.”

Luke followed Frost’s gaze, both of them now watching the work in front of them, Luke unsure what to say.

“When exactly did she leave?” Frost suddenly asked.

Luke looked surprised at the question, “Uh,” He thought back, “must be about five-ish.”

Frost considered this for a moment, his face blank. It wasn’t prime time for trouble to happen on the streets, but it was sun down and anything could happen in the shadows of the streets. He should know.

“You’re certain she didn’t make it home?” Luke asked, concerned.

“That’s what the Boss said, and I’m loathed to question him.” Frost muttered. “But I’ll still check there first.” With that, he turned to head off.

“Wait!” Luck called, jogging after him, “You’re going?”

Frost nodded but didn’t pause and Luke was forced to continue to jog after him. “She’s my daughter,” He growled, I’m not leaving this down to anyone else.”

“How do you know she didn’t just go out with some friends?” Luke offered, now keeping pace next to Frost.

“We’ve always agreed she tells me where she goes.” - Given Frost’s job it was necessary in case someone chose to target [Y/N] – that was why her sudden disappearance worried him so much.

Frost made long powerful strides into the garage, swiping a pair of keys off one of his men that had just arrived back at the warehouse, swinging himself up into the vehicle whose engine was still hot. “I’m hoping the boss was wrong” Frost admitted down to Luke, “and [Y/N] is just safely back at the flat, but - given his track record on being right - I don’t hold out much hope.”

“I’m coming too.” Luke insisted already heading for the other side of the car and, when Frost didn’t protest, pulling himself up into the passenger seat of the large, black 4x4.

A few minutes later the engine was roaring, and they were racing out of the warehouse garage.

At Frost’s pace they arrived at the apartment building in record time and were soon swinging the flat door open.

The Joker was right. The place was empty.

There was no sign of [Y/N].

Nonetheless, Frost searched every room for any sign that she could possibly have been here recently, praying that for some reason she hadn’t told him she was going out that evening.

It was as he paced the living room area of the apartment for the third time that he caught it. It hung the strongest by the back of the sofa. Perfume. A strong, familiar pungent smell that burnt at the back of his throat as he inhaled it in.

It wasn’t [Y/N]’s.

It was her mother’s.

“Boss.” Luke called. He had been following Frost closely around the flat, double checking everywhere his superior looked, but now he stood by the front door with a familiar set of keys in his hand.

Frost forgot the perfume for a moment, striding over to Luke and taking the keys from him, the [Y/N]’s personalise choice of keyrings clinking together.

“Did she forget them this morning?” Luke asked.

Frost shook his head, “No.” He glanced up and scanned the room again, looking for another sign of [Y/N]’s presence. “We were almost late looking for them,” He recalled quietly, “We eventually found them in her coat.” He had laughed at the time, now there was nothing funny about it.

[Y/N] had been here. These keys proved she had made it back to the flat. Frost’s mind flickered back to the perfume. He had never met another woman that wore that perfume - especially not at that strong a concentration.

These keys may have proved that [Y/N] had got back to the flat, but it also proved she hadn’t left again of her own volition.

“I don’t believe it.” Frost muttered to himself, wishing what he had pieced together couldn’t possibly be true.

“Boss?” Luke had been watching Frost’s face as he had thought all this through, “Johnny? What’s going on?”

Frost’s eyes flickered to the underling as though forgetting he was here. “That bitch is back.” He growled in answer, then turned and strode out of the door, heading back down to the street.

Luke quickly followed after him again. “Who?” He called in surprise – she must be bad to get his boss to swear - he was usually so controlled.

Frost either didn’t hear or didn’t bother to answer, his focus on flying down the staircase as fast as possible and getting back to the car.

He had nearly made it when a well-known voice made him pause as he reached for the handle of the car door. “Well, well, returning to the scene of the crime, not your smartest move, Frosty.” Frost reluctantly turned to face the Joker who had appeared on the pavement on his left, a gun trained at Frost’s chest. A glance behind him showed a purple sports car parked a short way behind the four by four. “I don’t appreciate betrayal Johnny boy…” Snarled the Joker, eyes flaring and his grin menacing.

Suddenly Luke burst after Frost through the door of the apartment building and the Joker flicked out another gun in a reflex, pointing it at the underling who froze immediately, halfway down the steps to the pavement.

“You’ve had an accomplice as well?” J beamed hauntingly. “I should have known…” He purred.

Luke glanced at Frost in confusion, seeking help in some way. Frost, however, kept his gaze on the Joker, unmoving.

“I didn’t want to think you were stupid enough to try this, Frosty…” J growled lowly, “but then the girl went missing, and you… vanished… in such a rush…”

“Sir, I-“

“Can it, Frosty.” Snapped J, shifting the gun in his hand warningly. “You think you can just steal her out from under my nose –“

“Boss,” Frost cut across, raising his hands in apology and surrender. “I don’t have time for this.” He said firmly, though still not daring to move with the Joker’s gun still trained on him. “My daughter is in trouble. [Y/N] is in trouble.”

The Joker glared at his head henchman, seeing the usual emotionless mask of Frost cracking, the honesty in his words and concern for his daughter clear on his face. Something flickered across the Joker’s face and he slowly lowered the guns. “Then so is my girl.” He growled quietly.

Frost faltered at the Joker’s comment, but didn’t say anything to this, returning his focus, instead, to the urgency of the situation. Luke had noticeably relaxed now a weapon wasn’t being pointed at him, and he cautiously finished his descent to the pavement, moving to Frost’s side again.

“Where is she?” The Joker demanded at the two of them. Luke glanced to Frost, just as lost.

“I don’t know, sir.” Frost admitted, hopelessly shaking his head. “I was going to head back to base to regroup and gather resources.”

The Joker nodded at this decision, though his face remained dark, his eyes impatient. “Is there time?” He growled.

“Even if there wasn’t, boss, we have nothing to go on right now to do anything else.” Frost explained, just as anxious as the Joker was to be doing something in that very instant to get [Y/N] back.

The Joker gritted his teeth. “Get back to the safe house.” He reluctantly ordered, turning on his heel and heading for his car. Frost gladly followed his orders, him and Luke climbing back into their car.

Tags: @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @jemjem-chan @mundane-cup-noodles @sheldonsherlocktony @sami1024

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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I am writing, I promise, but it’s been surprisingly difficult to find the time! Hoping to get something out tonight if I can!

#sorry!#thejokersenigma #thejokersengima fan fiction

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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How to write ominously... ^^^^ 😂

#im a twit #thejokersengima #thejokersengima fan fiction

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Smut Requests

Ok guys, I’m seriously considering writing some smut now... haha

So, as I’ll have to be a bit more ‘in the mood’ to write it, I’m going to make a separate request list for smut compared to my other requests and so I’ll work through them as I feel I can.

That means... I need your requests! Send me what you want to see and how *ehhem* ‘graphic’ you’d like it, and I will attempt to do the rest... ;)

#thejokersenigma #thejokersengima fan fiction #smut #requests #smut requests

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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I am having way too much fun trying to write this stupid fan fiction idea I came up with haha

When you read it you might understand why... haha

#thejokersenigma #thejokersengima fan fiction

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Writing Plans:

- Frost’s Secret Part 9 (Joker x Reader)

- White Rabbit Part 2 (Jervis x Reader)

- John Doe x Reader Request

#thejokersenigma #thejokersengima fan fiction

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Hoping to get my Jervis Tetch x Reader fic done tonight, then can get work on and hopefully finish my John Doe x Reader request over the weekend!

#thejokersenigma #thejokersengima fan fiction

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 17 - Joker x Reader - Christmas Carol Part 3

Ok, so it’s nearly midnight - sorry its taken so long to write this, but my laptop had a melt down and deleted all my editing, so I had to go back through and do it all again.

I apologise that the joker is a bit out of character - I’m blaming my lack of a break from writing (It feels like I’ve been writing non-stop for 17 days now!)

Hope you enjoy anyway!

MASTERLIST

J was surprised when he suddenly woke. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep – hadn’t even realised he had been drifting off. He didn’t think he could have slept for more than a few minutes, but the clock told him it was close to one o’clock.

J hoped that the brief sleep might have helped to clear his mind somewhat from all of these hallucinations. It was true that he nearly always had voices screaming different things in his head, and yes, rarely he saw things that weren’t actually there, but - even more seldom – did he get these repeat illusions.

Maybe his last trip to Arkham and their aggressive ‘cures’ had pushed his brain that bit further into the realms of complete insanity.

One thing J was certain of was – if the Marlo hallucination was right and he was expecting two other illusions tonight - he wasn’t going to be caught by surprise again by one of the phantoms his brain conjured up. So, he remained sat in his chair, ignoring the alcohol now, watching the office door, waiting for his next visitor. But nothing happened, and he couldn’t help feeling oddly more tense because of this.

J was just beginning to think maybe he should listen to one of the voices saying he ought to retire to his bed to catch up on some clearly much needed sleep, when the clock on the mantle chimed for the hour and, as the single faithful dong struck out, the office was filled with same brilliant light that had illuminated it previously. Only, this time, it didn’t come from the window behind him, instead this light seemed to be emitted from within the pent house, outlining the office door where it shone through the surrounding cracks.

J was forced to squint at the brightness, holding one hand up to shield his eyes. He wasn’t one to hesitate, or fear, and he had thrown caution to the wind a long time ago – so he rose to his feet and strode to the door, ready to confront whatever his mind had chosen to conjure this time.

The minute his hand touched the handle of the door, a familiar voice said his name, but it wasn’t Eddie this time. J knew exactly who it was, and he rolled his neck in annoyance. It was that pompous black-market dealer Oswald Cobblepot.

The Penguin called for him to enter as though the Joker had been polite enough to knock on his own door.

J scowled at the door, but pushed it open none the less - his curiosity getting the better of him. However, he paused almost immediately by the sight that greeted him beyond the door. What should have been the hallway of his penthouse, no longer was. Instead, he seemed to have somehow opened the door into the unused penthouse dining room. To check he hadn’t somehow managed to completely blank out the hallway, J glanced backwards, seeing his desk, chair and shelves of books. He turned his attention back in front of him, and, sure enough, there was still the neat, unused table and chairs by the floor to ceiling windows that made up the dining room.

The Joker hesitated, but only for a moment, before he stepped into the room. The door immediately closed behind him, even though he gave it no shove, and when J glanced back at it in surprise, the door seemed to melt into the wall until there was no trace of it. Maybe he was dreaming this time.

But that didn’t matter to him at the moment, and he turned his gaze back into the room, seeming to see it with fresh eyes now. It wasn’t just his unused dining room, it had been luxuriously decorated with Christmas decorations of holly, golden tinsel, wreaths of orange and cinnamon, and a large decorative runner that ran along the length of the table, embroidered with red, green silver. At the head of the table sat Oswald Cobblepot, as large and regal as ever.

The Penguin regarded the Joker down the end of his nose with distaste. “Ah, the clown has finally arrived - though we all knew punctuality has never been your strong point.” He sniffed.

“What do you want, Ossie?” Drawled the Joker, barely managing to supress a snarl.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.” Said the Penguin, as if that explained everything. “Take a seat.” He said, gesturing with a flick of his meaty hands to rest of the table, but the Joker didn’t move. “Never mind then.” Dismissed the Penguin, uncaring. “The present can’t wait much longer.”

Penguin rose to his feet from his chair, which the Joker now realised was not a chair, but a pile of suitcases over flowing with cash and bags of coins and jewels.

This must be a dream.

The rotund man, made his way over to the Joker, but something seemed wrong about the man. J couldn’t place it until the man held his umbrella out. Penguin wasn’t limping. His path to him had been smooth and unencumbered by his twisted leg.

“Take hold of the umbrella.” The Penguin ordered.

The Joker had basically made it his life not to follow rules or instructions, but he had gone unwillingly with his last hallucination, and the experience that it had showed him seemed to have lightened his mind somehow - though clearly not removed his hallucinations – and was J’s intrigue was peaked with what this phantom would show him. He said no word, but lightly gripped the material, Penguin’s hand remaining on the top of the curved handle.

Just then, a cold, strong wind seemed to blow in through the windows which now appeared to hold no glass. The Joker tried to release his grip on the umbrella, but his hand seemed to be stuck fast, his fingers unable to uncurl and he was forced to keep a tight grip on the umbrella. The wind seemed to pick up more, blowing out the lights, despite the fact they were electric, and then seeming to blow out all the furniture and objects around them as well. Everything dissolved into a thick smoke that swirled around them, not choking, but obscuring everything until it faded to a light mist that settled around their feet where they stood on one of the many snowy streets in Gotham City.

J spun around, taking in the surroundings. The night didn’t seem to have changed much from the last time he’d been out here only an hour ago, except they were now stood on a street lined with tall office blocks or flats, and a cold drizzle of snow blurred J’s vision. The Penguin though, only had eyes on one thing, and the Joker followed his line of sight. It was a tall, rather grim looking block of flats that towered directly in front of them.

“What is this?” The Joker asked.

The Penguin turned to him, half obscured in the snow. “This is the present.” He said simply. Then a short gust of wind blinded them with a flurry of flakes, and, when it cleared, they found themselves in hallway lined with numbered doors that must have been flats. Joker looked at the door directly in front of them. It was dark grey with a chipped golden 23 screwed into the wood. As J was about to ask what the point in all of this was, the number 23 door swung open inwards. Except Penguin hadn’t touched it, and there was no one on the other side of the door. Instead, J had a clear view into the apartment within. It was furnished with minimal, basic furniture that had probably come with the place and it lacked any personalisation from the owner in any way except for a few plastic bags and takeout containers on the table by the sofa.

Penguin stepped in and the Joker automatically followed.

They walked past the small living room area and a small dining table, reaching the doorway of the kitchen. Here they found a young woman - probably in her late 20s - desperately trying to stop a pot, of what looked like potatoes, from boiling over.

The Penguin said nothing to explain why they were there, nor did the Joker ask, both of them just watching the scene before them as the woman – having just rescued the potatoes by lifting them off the hob – threw the saucepan back down again when the oven timer went off, grabbing instead for a pair of oven gloves on the counter near her.

The woman dove into the oven and removed a rather dry looking chicken which she quickly shoved onto a spare bit of work surface, shaking her hands where her oven mitts had thinned. Just then, the potatoes began to hiss and spit as they boiled over again as she had thrown them back onto the hob without thinking.

The woman quickly rescued her potatoes once more, moving them to safety by shoving a few dirty utensils out of the way on the sideboard. Happy that everything was safe once more, the woman lent against one of the counters, exhausted and wafting her face with her hand at the heat that had built up in the kitchen.

Before she had much time to relax, a young girl, about 6, appeared in the doorway next to the Joker, holding a worn and battered teddy. “Mummy!” She cried, “When’s Uncle Johnny coming back with Jimmy?” She whined, not noticing her mother’s flustered state.

“He should hopefully be back any minute, honey - God knows mummy needs his help.” She muttered as an aside.

The girl grinned at this positive answer and skipped straight past the two criminals watching the scene without seeing them, and into the living room area to obsessively watch the door, listening intently for footsteps.

The little girl didn’t have to wait too long, as within 5 minutes there was the sound of heavy feet on the hallway outside and then a key in the lock. The young girl jumped excitedly to her feet and raced to the door bouncing up and down with uncontrollable energy.

When the door opened, the Joker let out a breathy growl. Frost.

He had a young boy - who looked to be a similar age to the little girl - sat on his shoulders, gripping either side of his face.

“Frosty!” Screamed the little girl and ran at him, still clutching her teddy. Frosty knelt down and scooped up the girl as she hurtled towards him, lifting her easily.

“Hiya lottie, did ya miss us?” He asked with a grin, placing the girl on his hip. The man in front of J now looked nothing like how he knew him. Instead of his usual suit, tie and emotionless face, Frost as wearing jeans, a Christmas jumper and a grin as he looked down at the little girl.

“No. Not at all.” The little girl lied, but she couldn’t keep it up for long when she saw the look on her Uncle’s face - which was a dramatic look of devastation at this claim – and she soon burst into a fit of girlish giggles.

“You lied to me?” Frost asked in dramatic disbelief. The girl nodded through her giggles. “Can you believe that Jimmy? The porkies your sister tells!” Frost cried, lifting his head slightly to the boy perched above him.

Jimmy laughed at Frost’s clearly fake outrage. “Come on, let’s find your chair, and mummy.” Frost said, carrying both of the children into the flat and finally closing the door. The ‘chair’ in question had been pushed out of the way behind the sofa and Frost wheeled it out now, going to deposit Jimmy into it, but the young boy protested violently, wishing to stay on his Uncle’s shoulders instead.

“Ok, but make sure you duck when I go through a door, ok?” Frost said, “Or at least tap my head to make sure I remember to duck.” He teased, and the young boy eagerly nodded. They head for the kitchen then, Lottie skipping on behind them. “We’re back!” Called Frost to his sister who was still struggling with the Christmas Eve meal.

“Oh, thank God, Johnny!” She exclaimed, a look of relief in her eyes when he appeared. “I honestly suck at cooking!” She exclaimed, gesturing to the mess the kitchen was in, used plates and bowls scattered on every surface, stray pieces of food on the floor where they had fallen.

“And you think I’m any better?” Asked Frost with a laugh. His sister couldn’t help but smile at his good mood. “The fact you tried is what matters.” He reassured her with a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll give you a hand in a minute.” He added. “Now come on you two, let’s set the table.” And he pulled the children out of the kitchen again, grabbing a pile of plates and handing the cutlery to Jimmy on his shoulders.

He lay out the plates, calling up to Jimmy for the cutlery he needed which was promptly handed down to him - narrowly missing his nose a few times, but Frost didn’t mind - and continuing to ask Lottie to remind him how many people he was laying the table for, keeping her giggling.

The Joker was lost in the scene before him. Frost was so good with the kids and they were on their best behaviour for him in return. The young Jimmy stayed on Frost’s shoulders as he set the table and still remained there when Frost went to help his sister in the kitchen. The young girl, Lottie, was also a constant shadow to the large criminal, asking to help where ever she could.

Eventually they all sat down to a slightly dry, over cooked dinner, but no one complained and all the dishes were finished – the children overcome with delight when a microwaved pudding was brought out for dessert.

The Joker and Penguin stayed there the whole time, listening to the conversation and – though they must have been there for hours – it barely felt like any time before they were watching the kids being packed off to bed.

The two adults settled on the small sofa afterwards with a strong drink.

“That was a wonderful meal, Lucy, really.” Said Frost, toasting to her.

“Don’t thank me!” She protested. “It was you who payed for it! And who saved it in the end!” She said, raising her glass to him.

“I guess we should thank the Joker, really, otherwise I’d be stuck in prison with no money and no use for my cooking skills.” Joked Frost.

“I will not raise a glass to that insane criminal!” Said Lucy moodily. “I know what sort of a man he is – even if you choose to ignore it! You wouldn’t have ended up in that prison if it wasn’t for him anyway!” She snarled.

“Woah Lucy! Cool down.” Frost said, gesturing for her to tone it down. “You know better than anyone else that I was destined for prison years before I met the Joker – I had nothing else and always got in trouble! Plus, what other job would I get on with a criminal record, hmm? Nothing that pays this well! I’d end up in a fast food joint on minimum wage and I wouldn’t be able to help you out with supporting the kids.” Frost pointed out. Lucy scowled, but remained silent, resigning herself to the truth.

“He’ll miss you when we go.” She said suddenly, “Jimmy.” She clarified, taking a sip from her glass. “And Lottie – they’ll both miss you.”

“He’s a good kid – they both are.” Said Frost, his face no longer showing any sign of the happy, laughing person he had been only an hour ago, now he just looked very tired.

“He loves being on your shoulders.” Lucy said, reminiscing to her son’s smiling face early. “He hates that bloody wheelchair almost as much as I do.”

“Have you spoken to the doctor about crutches?” Asked Frost, “At least then he’d be trying to use his legs more – might help.”

“The doctors say his arms are too weak and frail – he wouldn’t be able to support himself on them for long.” Lucy said sadly. “But they also say if he doesn’t start to use his muscles soon, he’ll only deteriorate - and he’s depressed enough as it is…” She trailed off

Frost looked at his sister sadly, placing a large hand on her knee in comfort. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” He said.

“You know I’d take that up in a heartbeat, Johnny – you’ve always been such a help – but I can’t do that to you - you do enough as it is. Besides, this place isn’t big enough for 4 people – especially when two of them are hyperactive kids.” Lucy murmured, her eyes showing her hopelessness.

Frost knew she was right and just gazed sadly off, sipping at his glass.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp blast of snowy wind cut across the Joker’s vision, blurring the scene before him and it dissolved before his eyes.

“Tell me, Ossie…” Drawled the Joker as the snow sped past them, “Do you know what’s gonna happen to that kid?” Despite this having to be created by his brain, he felt the hallucination was likely to know more about this then he consciously did – they seemed to be quite otherworldly and omnipotent – and the Joker had the odd urge to know a bit more about this young boy’s future.

The Penguin regarded him with an unimpressed look and a raised eyebrow. “If nothing changes, then he won’t live to see his high school graduation.” The Penguin muttered, sounding anything but interested.

The snow finally cleared and J was able to see more than an inch in front of him again. It didn’t take long for the Joker to recognise their surroundings even in the darkness of the early morning. They were on the outskirts of Gotham and directly in front of them was a bungalow.

“Care to tell me, why we’re stood on a toxic waste dump, Ossie?” Snarled the Joker, trying to keep himself civil to the hallucination, but the anger in his voice was obvious behind his restraint.

“Always so foolish.” Tutted the Penguin. “You’re safe.” He muttered, though he didn’t sound pleased about this fact. If this had been the real Penguin, J probably wouldn’t have believed him, but this should all just be a hallucination anyway - so he should be safe. Yet, everything up till now had been so real that he had panicked when he saw the familiar swamp-like surroundings, the darkness making it even more menacing. He had to admit Pamela had style – and good security.

The two men wandered closer to the bungalow that – from the outside – look abandoned like all the other buildings in this area, expect for the fact that it had numerous colourful lights draped around it.

That wasn’t Pamela’s style. Which only meant she wasn’t alone.

The men stopped outside the main front window which showed into the rather small living room with a couple of sofas, an electric fire and a TV. The room was decorated quite extravagantly with lights, tinsel and festive ornaments. And, sure enough, curled up on one of the sofas was Pamela Isley, her arm wrapped around none other than Harley Quinn. Both in thick, fluffy pyjamas watching a movie - Harley close to drifting off in Pamela’s arms - looking completely content with life and missing no in their own little world.

“Why are you showing me this?” Demanded the Joker, turning to the Penguin next to him.

Penguin shrugged, “Maybe to show you that no one needs you in their lives. That if you choose to leave them, they live on and they will be happy. But you will always be alone.”

The Joker scowled darkly at the plump man. He could talk – J doubted anyone would miss ol’ Ossie here if he happened to vanish - except maybe his customers. Joker hated to admit it, but the man was a half-decent smuggler and dealer.

As J thought about this, the lights in the room in front of him suddenly went out. He frowned at the window, the light suddenly flickering back on, but this time J’s view into the room was blocked by a large Christmas tree decked in golden lights and different coloured baubles.

J blinked, and the next thing he knew he was stood in the hallway of a rather large house. On his right was a doorway through which he could hear voices. He peered through and saw a small gathering of 6 people on comfy sofas, enjoying a strong drink after having retired from their evening meal. The fire was roaring in the hearth and, sat against the window, was the large tree that had blocked J’s view a moment ago.

Suddenly his attention was caught by a laugh that seemed to drown out all other voices in the room “[Y/N]” He growled and his eyes snapped to the source of the sound, finding [Y/N] chuckling away to something the man next to her had said.

“That was a wonderful meal, by the way, [Y/N].” said one of the ladies on the other side of the room, raising her sherry glass to her. Even from this distance, J could see her blush.

“Yes, delightful!” Cried another person in agreement.

“Shame that the 7th person couldn’t make it.” Added another one, clearly not knowing who it was that was missing.

“Well… Yes…” Said [Y/N] uneasily.

“Didn’t you say he was awfully rude about it though?” Asked a rather uptight looking lady close to the fire.”

“Yes, he was bit…” Muttered [Y/N], clearly not happy about the direction the conversation had now turned. “But I guess he didn’t miss much though.”

“Only a great meal!” Cried one.

“And wonderful laughs!” Called another. “Bah humbug to him too!”

“Oh, there’s no need for that!” Cried [Y/N]. “I believe the man is miserable enough without it.” She said. “Besides, I don’t hate him for how he rejected my invitation.” She explained, “No matter how rude he was. It just makes me sad to think of him all alone, missing better company then he could ever have in that head of his, stuck in that old office.” [Y/N] mused. “I do however, mean to continue to invite him here each year - despite his uncouth words. I feel like I am defying him and his bah humbugs that way – the fact that each year I return in good temper to ask once more. And maybe I incite the smallest amount of a Christmas in him by doing so – and that is enough for me.” [Y/N] finished, taking a large gulp of air. Clearly, she had been thinking about this matter a long time, and this line of conversation had finally brought it out of her.

“Hear, hear!” The room called jovially to her speech.

“You truly are a sweet person. [Y/N] – you just embrace the meaning of Christmas!” Cried one of the younger women. “I would probably have slapped that man silly by now!”

[Y/N] laughed heartily, “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it!” She teased.

The scene then seemed to ripple like water and a clock tolled two o’clock in the darkness that then consumed them. The Joker didn’t even realise he had closed his eyes until he opened them again and found himself back, once more, in his office.

The Penguin was nowhere in sight.

J didn’t bother to search for the man. He was starting to get the gist of when his hallucinations were over. He didn’t even bother to reach for his drink this time either. No amount of alcohol was going to help this, and it would probably only make it worse if he were to drink himself into a stupor.

Besides, he knew someone else was going to come now. Marlo had warned J of 3 hallucinations and J believed there would be 3.

So the Joker wasn’t surprised when he turned away from the office door and saw a tall, dark, cloaked figure silhouetted in the window behind his desk.

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

Text

Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 15 - Oswald x Zsasz - Perfect Present

Sorry this is a day late, but I wrote it vaguely yesterday during my lectures and then spent the rest of the day traveling home for Christmas so didn’t get a chance to post it! It’s not great and quite rushed as even today I’ve been ridiculously busy, so haven’t even started today’s advent yet!

Hope you enjoy it anyway!

MASTERLIST

Oswald Cobblepot strode into his office moodily. All this Christmas joy was driving him insane. That was the 5th person to ask him for time off around Christmas and the 5th time that he had said no. Business didn’t stopped for the holidays so neither did they.

Suddenly Oswald stopped, staring at his desk in front of him and the Santa hat sat on it. Except, instead of the traditional red, it was black with white trim and, in large block felt letters it read ‘Bah Humbug.’

“Zsasz!” Shouted the Penguin glaring at the offending accessory.

The assassin appeared silently behind him in the doorway. Oswald grabbed the hat and spun as smoothly as his limp would allow him, shoving the hat at the bald man. “Find out who did this!”

“Don’t you want it?” He asked, his voice lacking any emotion.

“No! Get rid of it.”

Zsasz studied the hat in his hand, shrugged and then fitted it onto his own head, before striding off out of the doorway, the bobble of his hat bouncing behind him.

Oswald rolled his eyes in exasperation at the ridiculous sight.

“Zsasz!” Came the strained voice of the Penguin once more from his office. The assassin appeared once more in the doorway, waiting alert for his orders. “What is this?!” Oswald snapped, leaning just out of his chair, hands pressed on his desk and jabbing one at the odd object before him.

“A penguin” Answered Zsasz simply.

“I can see that.” Said Oswald, painfully restraining himself, “but why is it on my desk?!”

“It’s a present.”

“From who?” Asked Oswald, bewildered.

“From Me.” Said Zsasz. “You didn’t like the hat, so I got this instead.” Oswald stared at him with a furrowed brow and slightly open mouth like he’d gone mad.

“Why would I want a Penguin?”

Zsasz shrugged, “It winds up.”

“And why would I want a wind-up Penguin?”

Zsasz shrugged again, “Could strap a bomb to it.” He suggested completely seriously.

Oswald just stared at him in bewilderment again before closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “ Just.” He breathed. “Get rid of it.” He said, waving his hands at the toy towards the door and then turning back to his work.

Zsasz took the toy.

A few days later, Oswald once again entered his office at the Iceberg Lounge, around mid-afternoon, grumbling over the incompetence of his men. How hard was it to intimidate someone into a business deal?!

He threw himself down onto his throne-like chair in a huff, scowling at nothing in particular, then reached for his decanter to pour himself a much-needed drink, when his eyes landed on a box he hadn’t noticed on his desk.

He frowned at it in confusion, it was a perfectly wrapped and looked exactly like a stereotypical Christmas present with red wrapping paper and a golden ribbon that finished in a bow on the top.

No tag. That was suspicious, and yet Oswald had top security for any mail he received, none of it reaching him until it had been checked over for any attempt to remove him from his throne over Gotham.

So, it must be safe.

He took a knife from the pocket of his suit and – still carefully – slit the paper and ribbon, minimising the damage to the wrapping. He carefully lifted the lid of the box to find a severed head tucked neatly inside on a bed of tissue paper.

Immediately he thought this must have been a threat for him, that this was one of his men or business partners, but no, on a second look he recognised the man behind the swollen, slightly singed features. Marko. The gangster that had been refusing to pay any money to Oswald and failing to cooperate with any of his arrangements.

Oswald grinned triumphantly at the gangster’s head. Who had delivered the dead man to him?

He was about to open his mouth to cool for Zsasz once again, when the man suddenly appeared in the doorway to his office.

“Ah, Victor, just the man I was looking for – do you know who did this.” Oswald asked, gesturing to the box on the desk.

“Yes.” He answered in his usual monotone. “It was me.”

“Oh” Said Oswald, pleasantly surprised. “Well thank you, Victor.” He said, limping out from behind his desk, “That is very helpful.” He said with a smile at the assassin, stopping before him. “Probably the perfect Christmas present.” He admitted.

“Do you know how I did it?” Asked Zsasz with a sly spark to his eye and a smirk on his lips.

Oswald frowned in question at him.

“I strapped a bomb to that Penguin.”

Oswald’s eyes lit up at this. “Hmm… Maybe we should invest in some more…”

#oswald cobblepot #the penguin #victor zsasz #zsasz #oswald cobblepot fan fiction #the penguin fan fiction #penguin fan fiction #zsasz fan fiction #victor zsasz fan fiction #oswald cobblepot x zsasz #oswald x zsasz #oswald cobblepot x zsasz fan fiction #the perfect present #Christmas fan fiction advent calendar #the jokersengima fan fic #thejokersengima fan fiction #thejokersenigma #day 15

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thejokersenigma · 7 years

Text

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 49

Hi guys,

Spending my last few days before uni starts to bust out another chapter! I was quite proud of this chapter until I edited it, now I'm worried the end it rush, but I'm gonna post it anyway!

Thank you very much for all the support you guys have given me, the likes, the comments, the follows! EVERYTHING! It means the world to me and keeps me writing when I feel shit (which is quite a bit!)

Thank you and Enjoy! :D xx

P.S Let me know if you have any requests (for any characters) that you would like me to give a go at writing.

P.P.S Let me know if you would like to be tagged in any of my work (let me which series you want to be tagged in!)

MASTERLIST

“Good job, boys.” Penguin praised from the opposite side of the door to where I crouched, the sound of his voice betraying the grin on his face. I watched through my small window between the door and frame, as the men withdrew from where they had been restraining the Joker to a small interrogation chair. I cringed as I caught sight of the bloodied and beaten man once more.

I had to do something, I couldn’t just sit here and watch it all unfolding, especially when I had no idea what Penguin’s end game was – though I highly doubted it involved the Joker leaving this alive – after all, why would it?

I glanced back pointless behind me to the empty corridor, most of it hidden in the darkness. I had to face the facts – I was doing this alone. No one was going to come to my rescue if I screwed this up – Frost was occupied elsewhere and the Joker was strapped to a chair half beaten to death. There was the option of trying to find Johnny, but I wasn’t sure how much time J had left for me to start running around searching for help. I needed to do something. Soon. Even the Joker deserved a better death than this.

I slipped as close to then gap in the door as I dared, my gun feeling heavy in my hand as I held it close to my body. I continued to watch the scene through my limited view, fiddling anxiously with the weapon in my now-sweating hand, ready to use it at any sign that I had been discovered.

I could sit here forever, biding my time. But it wouldn’t help anyone.

I raised the muzzle of the gun so it fitted between the door and frame, aiming it at the two men opposite me. My hand – and the gun – were shaking like mad and I brought my other hand up to help steady my aim. I lowered my head so I stared down at my bent knee and took a deep breath, briefly closing my eyes.

Do it.

In one smooth motion I lifted my eyes, immediately choosing my target across the room and releasing a single shot I heard, rather than saw, the man drop to the floor, already retreating around the door frame as a hail of bullets rain into the wooden door, puncturing small holes and filling the air with miniscule splinters.

I waited for a pause in the fire before taking my chance and crouching back behind the bullet ridden door and taking the one shot I could get, not lingering to improve my aim. I heard the cry of pain as the bullet hit the remaining man’s leg, causing him to buckle at the knee. I darted back behind the door frame for a split second, barely pausing before I took the chance and flung myself back into the firing line to release another bullet straight into the man’s skull so he fell alongside his comrade.

I threw myself backwards, pressing myself up against the corridor wall, sheltering in case of any unaccounted-for men who might now join the fray and try to take a shot at me.

But nothing happened.

I left out a breath I hadn’t know I was holding, gasping shakily for air I hadn’t realized I needed. My heart was erratic in my chest and I relaxed my grip on my gun, slowly peeling away each finger from the handle, noting the pressure marks etched into my palm from where I had clung too tightly in my concentration.

No one was shooting at me, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more people in the room. I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet, feeling my top cold and damp with sweat, my limbs shaking from the adrenaline. I moved back towards the door, feeling vaguely unbalanced on my feet, grabbing the handle and, this time, stepping completely into the room, using the door as a flimsy shield as I pushed it open. I scanned the room as it came into view, all the time, my gun raised, my finger itching on the trigger for any sudden movement.

I soon determined the room to be empty apart from the Penguin and J and that we seemed to be stood in some sort of office – possible the Penguin’s. The furniture was dark but simple, a desk stood in the middle of the room, slightly pushed to the back, and filing cabinets and locked cupboards lined the walls. The few windows in the room were covered with blinds, only allowing thin cracks of light to leak through and strike the floor, the rest of the visibility coming from dark shaded lamps around the room and the dim light bulb in the center of the ceiling. There was only one other door in the room which stood ajar directly behind Penguin and, through the darkness, I could just make out shelves that suggested it was a store cupboard of some sort – this must have been where Penguin and his goons had waited to ambush the Joker.

“Ah! Just in time my little sparrow!” Exclaimed Penguin, beaming at my appearance from being the damaged door, seemingly unfazed by the death of his two men a moment ago. I immediately trained my gun on him, watching him warily, though I couldn’t stop my gaze occasionally flickering to J who seemed to be quietly giggling away to himself as he was drunk on his bloodloss. “Though, I must admit, such sharp shooting as that which I just witnessed, made me presume you were the loyal lap dog, Johnny!” He exclaimed. I took in the odd little bird man as we stood there, both sizing each other up - though him less obviously so.

He was in his usual get-up of a smart – if slightly out dated – suit and waistcoat with the gold chain of, what I could only imagine to be a very expensive pocket watch, protruding from one of the pockets. His monocle perched precariously over his left eye and, as we stood there, he reached up to adjust his top hat that concealed his fast receding hairline.

“Drop the gun.” I instructed firmly, flicking my wrist that held my own handgun at his pistol that he had pointed directly at the Joker. He hesitated for a second -possibly weighing up the likelihood of me going actually doing anything if he refused – but I saw his eyes flicker to the bodies behind me before they returned to mine, allowing the weapon to clatter onto the floor. “Now kick it over there.” I instructed, nodding behind me where the bodies lay, a small pool of blood growing next to each. Penguin didn’t hesitate this time, immediately doing as I commanded and sending the gun skidding past me with a flick of his bad leg. I watched the weapon out of the corner of my eyes as it collided with the arm of one of the dead men, finally coming to a stop.

“Oooo hoo hoo!” Came a giggle from my right that made me jump slightly, “This is gonna be good!” I glanced at J, who was sitting slightly more upright now and grinning widely where he sat, still tightly bound to the chair. I gave him a warning glare, now was not the time for his ridiculousness. “Just look this, doll!” He exclaimed energetically, completely ignoring my hard stare. “The two men you hate the most. Both of us having done you wrong. Both of us at your mercy! You won't get another chance like this, Princess, best make the most of it!” He beamed manically, excitement bright in his eyes and I wondered how many knocks to the head he’d had.

“Shut up!” I snarled at him, though I part of me stored what he said. They were both at my complete mercy. I could do what I wanted with these criminals. Let them go. Turn them in to the police. Kill them.

J didn’t seem to care about his though – he looked practically ecstatic about it – which made me suspicious. But, Penguin, however, was looking anything but pleased about the circumstances he found himself in, I look of loathing painted on his face as he stared coldly at the beaten Joker.

“Aww, come on, doll!” the J whined next to me. “Do something exciting for once in your life! Take the risk, live a little!” I glanced back over at him in confusion, not completely sure what he meant, “Don’t you want to rid yourself of this feathered fool?” I turned my eyes back to the Penguin. “No one would miss him.” Purred J, his voice quieter and smoother as he egged me on, “After all he’s done to you, after all he’s driven you to have to do…?”

“Ha.” I snorted angrily, abruptly spinning to face the Joker on his spindly chair, “Like you can talk!” I cried heatedly, “You’ve done nothing but trick, toy and play with me since I met you! You’re even trying to do it now!” I cried, “Hell, you’re the reason I’m even here in the first place - And I’m almost certain it’s because of some manipulative plan you have for me! Why else would you drag me out here with no explanation just to have me stand in a cold dark warehouse?!” I cried furiously, letting my emotions fuel my words. “So, tell me.” I said, panting slightly, “What was it you wanted to happen tonight? What was your ‘big plan’ behind dragging me out here with you?!” I demanded, my jaw clenched.

“I wanted exactly what’s happening now – for you to show me that other side of you that you fight so desperately,” He grinned sinisterly, a knowing look in his eye. “Though this was not the way I had originally planned.” He admitted, soberly with a nod, “But I take what I’m given.” He said, the grin returning instantly.

I felt the anger in me flare up again. This wasn’t fair, I had him at my mercy, at gun point, and he was still winning. I clenched my teeth, fighting back the angry tears I could feel burning in the corner of my eyes. “God!” I screamed, “Nothing's real with you, is it?” I cried, the agony clear in my voice. In a split second, I was certain I caught a glimpse of surprise on his face, maybe it was shock that I had the gall to talk to him like that, or maybe it was shock at the rawness of my emotions. Either way it vanished with a blink of his stormy eyes.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eyes and I suddenly remembered that the Penguin was still in the room with us. The very thought of the man only added fuel already burning hotly in my head.

“And you!” I cried furiously, turning my attention back onto the stout businessman “Don’t think I don’t blame this all on you!” I stated hotly.

“My sweet –“ Penguin began, throwing his palms up when the gun faced him once more.

“No!” I cried, fiercely, not wanting to hear his whimpered excuses. The gun shook my hand as I gripped it tightly, feeling the edges dig painfully into my palm, though I didn’t feel it. “You’re not using any of your greasy charm on me!” I snarled, “You were going to rent me out to men! To Two-Face!” I cried, jabbing the gun in his direction as I spoke.

Penguin flinched at every reckless movement of the gun. “No, my dear!” He exclaimed, “I'd never do that! It was merely a threat,” He insisted desperately, “A bluff!”

“Why would you need to threaten me?!” I demanded, irate and confused, “I did everything you told me to!”

“Except you never did the one thing I wanted you to!” He cried angrily. I saw something flash in the Penguin’s eyes and it was my turn to cower. I hadn’t seen him look that dangerous before.

“I gave you ever possible opportunity to rid yourself of that clown shaped fiend!” He roared, jabbing a chubby finger at J, “I allowed unchecked weaponry in my building! I spent my own cash on teaching you how to use it! I gave you every opportunity available to get you and that clown in the same room!” He yelled, furiously. “A man you swore you hated!” He added, hotly. “But what happened?!” He demanded, “Even I could see it! You fell for the fool!”

I stared at him in shock. Never for one moment had I thought that anything that had happened whilst I had been working for him, was because he had wanted me kill off the Joker.

Penguin made the most of the numbness that had taken over me, and spun around - rather smoothly for a large, overweight man – and snatched up his umbrella which I hadn’t seen propped against the wall behind him. He swung it around as he turned back to me, crashing it into my hand that held the gun out at him. I heard a sickening crack and the gun flew from my hand into the corner of the room. I grabbed my hand instinctively, the fire now spreading along my nerves, and cradled it to my chest as it throbbed.

Penguin returned the umbrella so it pointed back at me, before flicking a minute switch I couldn’t see, resulting in the tip of the umbrella falling open to reveal the barrel of a gun.

I was defenseless now and could do nothing. “Put ‘em up, my dear.” He scoffed, indicating my hands with a slight gesture of the umbrella gun. I reluctantly raised my arms, palms facing him, and I could already see my right hand was red and swollen compared to the other.

“Something I’ve learnt, my little sparrow,” Penguin began, hobbling himself toward me a few steps, “If you want something done,” He snarled, pausing in front of me, his breathing heavy from his exertions and I grimaced at the foul air, my body tensed, ready for him to shoot me. “You've got to do it yourself.” He stated, abruptly turning so now the gun was turned on J.

“No!” I cried in distress. I couldn’t help myself and I automatically reached out a hand towards the weapon that held my gaze.

“HA!” Penguin barked in an angry laugh, quickly turning the gun back on me and stopping me in my tracks. “Even now, my little song bird – even after all the anguish and torment he’s put you through - you still want to shield him!” It was true, I might have just been aiming a gun at him only a moment ago, but I had known there was no way I could have pulled the trigger. “You appear to continue to suffer this ridiculous notion that every feeling you have isn’t just a little game of his.” He sneered, limping back towards me. I couldn’t help it, I began to step back, trying to maintain the distance between us. “That maybe – deep down in his hollow torso – he might actually express a similar weakness!” He laughed harshly before the grin faded from his face and he stood still, a look of almost pity took over.

“I don’t want to have to kill you, my dear.” Penguin said, his voice quiet and croaky from his yelling, “But I won’t think twice if you try to stop me again.”

When I made no sign of retreating, or that anything he had said had made any difference to me, I saw his eyes flare again.

“Wake, my sweet sparrow!” He cried dramatically and I flinched at the loudness, “See what the rest of us all see!” He called, swinging the umbrella back to point at the Joker “– the insane piece of filth with no more place on this Earth than the cockroaches that invade homes!” He spat.

I watched in horror as he turned to face J once more, advancing on him quickly, throwing his weight forward with every limp, dragging his useless leg behind and refusing to use the gun as a stick to aid him. I could do nothing as he reached J, ramming the tip of the umbrella up under his chin.

I hadn’t watched the Joker this whole time, but now I let my eyes focus on him. “The feeling’s mutual my feathered friend.” Growled the Joker darkly, his eyes hard and defiant on his enemies and his familiar grin still just as bright - as though he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else nowhere in that moment. I couldn’t believe he was so calm and uncaring under the barrel of death that pointed at him.

I had to do something right now. I didn’t have time to think anything through. I panicked and the next thing I knew I found myself running blindly across the room at the Penguin, throwing my weight against his side and - thanks to not having his umbrella to steady himself – managing to knock the large man off balance, tackling him to the floor.

He let out a cry of pain as his hip collided with the hard flooring, and I made the most of his distraction to wrench the umbrella out of his grasp before he could gather himself together again. I turned the muzzle on Penguin as he shoved himself onto his elbows, grimacing in pain. When he caught sight of the gun-umbrella aimed at him, he froze. “Get in the cupboard.” I snarled nodding to the door behind him which remained slightly open from where they had jumped J. Penguin hesitated only a moment before he shuffled backwards, dragging his bag leg over the rough floor. I followed him, tracking his movements with the umbrella, until he was far enough inside for me to slam the door on him, quickly grabbing a nearby filing cabinet and dragging it so it blocked the door, barring Penguin inside.

Once I felt that Penguin was safely dealt with I let the umbrella drop from my hands so it clattered onto the floor next to me. I could feel my legs shaking from what I had just done, the adrenaline still running in my veins and I stared at the floor trying to let my mind catch up to my actions. That could have ended completely differently. With my dead body alongside the other two.

“Ahem? Doll?” Came a polite, but slightly irked voice behind me. I spun around in surprise, suddenly remembering J was still tied up behind me. I ran over to him, my eyes immediately travelling to a red streak against his pale jaw that I hadn’t noticed previously. “Oh shit, J! You’re bleeding!” I cried, his nickname slipping out of my mouth without thinking thanks to using it so much in my own mind. I grabbed at his neck, tilting his head without hesitation, to see a shallow gash where the umbrella must have caught him when I crashed into Penguin. I examined it carefully for a few moments before I became acutely aware of what I was doing and how much I was manhandling him, without – it would seem – any objection. He hadn’t even tried to break from my grip, even though it was possible with the small amount of movement he could manage whilst still tied to the chair – there was nothing holding his head in place.

I tore my eyes away from the wound now, though I made sure to move my hand to cover it in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. I directed my gaze to his eyes instead. He was staring at me. Staring with a look that I wasn’t sure I had ever seen from him before. Seen from anyone before. It wasn’t just hunger, there was something more vulnerable there for the first time since I’d met him. The first sign of weakness I had ever seen from him.

But then he must have moved because he was kissing me, my eyes quickly closing against the feeling of pure heaven that I found with his lips. I forgot about holding any pressure to the wound, my hands slipping up his neck to cup his face and pull him closer to me. I gasped for air, breathing in his scent and he deepened the kiss. I could feel my heart racing and I didn’t care, ignoring the rest of my body, and focusing only on the hard, cold cheeks under my fingers and the rough lips pushed up against mine.

I felt the growl against my lips before it reached my ears, “Doll, if you don’t untie me real soon, I’ll promise you’ll regret it.” Reality hit me and I opened my eyes, quickly breaking away from him and diverting my eyes with embarrassment at my behaviour, but not before I caught a look of the heat in his eyes. I didn’t know how I could tell, but I knew the threat was empty, but I dropped down to my knees anyway, busying myself with the complex knots.

I can’t believe I had just done anything that had just happened. My fingers trembled with the remains of the adrenaline and the effects of the passionate kiss.

The moment that Joker was free, I was wrenched upright by my shoulders and shoved roughly backwards till I was pressed up against a wall, the impact knocking the air out of me. He planted his hands on the wall either side of my head and bent down, his lips finding mine immediately. My arms hung limp at my side, quickly lost in the moment and too focused on the heat that rushed up my body to think about anything else. J’s mouth travelled down to my jaw, his harsh breaths tickling my skin and he nibbled at the sensitive area on my neck and I bit back a moan, letting my head roll back against the wall.

I heard footsteps, but they didn’t register in my mind. I moved my head upright and J’s lips sought my again, stealing my breath away till I practically gasping under his mouth. Then there was another louder creak and my eyes lazily drifted past J, over his shoulder, to see Frost stood out of breath and rather scruffy by the bullet ridden door. I pulled back hastily from J’s mouth, blushing profusely at the situation we’d been found in. I heard a growl from the Joker, but I couldn’t look at him, still breathless and my cheeks were burning. Frost stood frozen in the middle of the floor, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but at us. He glanced around, his eyes lingering on the bodies still lying together on the floor.

J pushed off from the wall and turned to the head henchmen, his eyes dangerous. J stared at him for a few beats and there must have been a silent command in that look - a promise to deal with him later - then, without another word, he grabbed my hand and towed me after him out of the room, leaving Johnny to clean up duty.

J didn’t release me till we reached the car. I made no attempt to stop him, just allowing myself to be towed along, too surprised that he was holding my hand at all.

The drive was silent as well, J made no sound, his eyes hard and cold, looking anywhere but at me. It was only once we pulled back into the garage at the mansion that he acknowledged my existence again. He at my passenger side door before I had even unfolded myself from the car. He caught my shoulders as I stood up, immediately pushing me backward into the car and pinning me there, his lips finding mine again. “I thought about this the whole way here.” He growled against my lips, he tugged me closer, his body pressing up against mine. His grip was tight on my body, but I didn’t care, in that moment I didn’t want him to let go, the heat I had felt burning back at the warehouse was quickly reignited. I didn’t want to think about what had gone in the warehouse other than the kiss. I knew I should hate J, not want to be anywhere near him, but his lips and hands were quickly making that very hard to remember.

“It’s time to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” Joker growled in my ear. I didn’t protest. I didn’t say anything. J seemed to take that as enough and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his arms.

tags: @6fish6 @carouselcurls @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @toxic-ink @blondieinthecity @cybergingersalad @viraldragonrider @ohmystarscam @nattalie-z

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thejokersenigma · 3 years

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Loki x Reader - A Match Made in Hel - Part 19

I've had a lot of requests for the end of this series I do want to finish it as there is only really one part left. I've split this part up however into small parts because otherwise I'm finding it a bit overwhelming to write. It's not going to be great, the story has got a bit lost and writing the end now there is a lot I wish I could go back and edit in previous parts but I don't have the time or energy for this story anymore, so unfortunately we may just have to live with how it turns out :S (Also I'm not spending a huge time on editing so sorry if the writing is a bit rough!)

Hope it at least satisfies some people!

The walls shaking was the first indication we had been found.

Our secret had been leaked, we knew, at the near-public execution where I had been forced to stand by Ma'am and watch the torture of civilians. None of us could blame whoever had spoken, it had been the only way to save the poor girl plucked from the crowd, but thankfully the information given had been vague enough to buy Heimdall enough time to gather up the few refugees left – including myself – and form a last-minute escape plan.

Now shards of rock were peppering my shoulders as young and feeble hurried past towards the rough-hewn ‘back-door’ of the keep. Men and women alike grabbed what weapons they could from their meagre belongings and I had to wonder what my own plan was.

I couldn’t say I was the same person I was back on Earth. I’d trained my powers of course - Ma'am would not have let me do otherwise - but they seemed feeble compared to what I had seem capable of in the tower. Ma’am seemed convinced I had more power than I was letting on, but without motivation to try – and Ma’am’s frustration did not serve this purpose – I felt it hard to summon much energy to create more than a flame within my palm.

I could physically fight though – I had been trained in sword and spear fighting for as long as I could remember, but should I even fight? Was there any point? Did we stand a chance against Hela? Had I made a mistake? Should I have reasoned with her rather than attempt the ridiculous notion of fighting her? Was it too late to go back? To pretend I had just got restless and gone for a long walk rather than joining a rebellion.

Then I looked again at the families around me clutching each other desperately, their belongings nothing but the clothes on their back and the occasional small toy clutched in a kid’s hands or ancient knife not used for decades but now their only weapon against an army.

They were leaving their homes – their lives – behind because of all of this. It wasn’t ok and surely it was worth dying for? I may not have been born or made on Asgard, but I could see what it represented to these people and its beauty alone was enough to make me know it did not deserve this fear and destruction.

Someone held out a slightly rusted, yet ornate spear towards me and I grabbed it without hesitation now, moving to help funnel the people through the small break in the rocks that led to light and open air.

The walls shook once more as the last of us filtered out and Heimdall rolled the large boulder back over the doorway. I turned to take in the view before me and from where we were perched high up in the mountains it was breath taking. I didn't know whether it was because I had been stuck in a palace under a blanket of fog and then hidden away in mountain but my eyes couldn't stop shifting to the landscape around me as we began to pick our way down the mountainside. Waterfalls cascaded from the surrounding hills into a large river that slipped between the mountain range and out into the distance where the iridescent glimmer of the rainbow bridge that marked the Bifrost could just be seen in the hazy light that filtered through the clouds.

A crashing sound signaled the large main doorway giving way to Hela on the other side of the Keep causing everyone to flinch before picking up speed, slipping and stumbling down the steep slope. It wouldn’t take long for her to work out where we were - there were not many easy routes down this mountain refuge that were suitable for the young children and older, fragile citizens.

We needed to slow her down somehow.

“Heimdall, I – “

A roaring sound cut me off and both me and Heimdal glanced up at the sky to see a large round spacecraft fly low overhead, skimming around the side of the Keep’s high peak before heading in the direction of the city.

“Hurry.” Heimdall urged, grabbing my arm and tugging me forward with him but I continued to glance back in the direction the ship has disappeared in, confused at what I had just seen. Who was in the ship? Hela didn’t have, nor need ships? Surely it wasn’t reinforcements for Hela? She didn’t need them.

“Heimdall!” I called, out of breath as I hurried after him down the stony, root-strewn path, skidding slightly down the steeper parts. “What if I – “ I panted and he glanced back as we continued down, “What if I go cause a distraction – buy – buy us some time?” I stopped, forcing him to pause. He motioned to the citizens in front of him to keep moving and turned to me.

“We don’t need it.” He stated matter-of-factly, his eyes somehow calm despite the sweat on his brow and dirt encrusted on his skin from the months of exile. I frowned, about to question this, when a loud metallic thud rang out across the landscape. I turned my head back to the palace where the sound seemed to come from, but it was now hidden by the forested mountain next to me.

What –“ I turned back to Heimdall, but he was already hurrying after the others who were already halfway down the wooded slope. Was someone in the palace? And was Heimdall happy about this? I had many questions, but I doubted I was going to get the answers, so I continued down the hill at a slight jog to catch up. Whatever was happening now was the one and only chance to save these people and that was all that mattered.

#loki x reader #loki x reader series #loki x reader fanfiction #loki x reader fanfiction series #thejokersengima #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson x reader fan fiction #loki x reader fan fiction #loki laufeyson x reader fan fiction series

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

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Loki x Reader - Oneshot - If Only [SMUT]

Ok guys, finally I’ve finished this (been editing it for hours now!) I’ve based this on a request by the lovely @spider-piggyxo (who I can’t tag for some reason). But I’ve also added a little twist of my own because I’m a cruel creature. :P ;)

Request: Hey! So I saw you take request. Could you write a one shot between Loki x female reader where the reader is crying Because she and her partner split up so loki comforts her and admits that he’s in love with her and they end up having kinky sex where he makes her beg for it then it ends in cute cuddles and fluff? If you write this please tag me!(: Thanks!

Hope you enjoy it! Only the third smut I’ve done, so I’m still leaning, but I hope its not too terrible!

WARNING: Smut! Duh! Please don’t read if your under-aged!

MAIN MASTERLIST

Loki stared coldly out at the city beyond the balcony’s glass railing, his arms crossed behind his back as he surveyed the rooftops and rushing car lights.

It seemed an understatement to say that he truly loathed this planet.

Besides being held here against his will by his own brother as a punishment, the almost barbaric world with its similarly uncivilised occupants, offered little to Loki in the way of interest or entertainment except for one thing in particular. One thing that he wanted – that he needed – and was then forced to watch as it was taken away from him.

The skin over Loki’s knuckles stretched even paler than usual as his hands gripped one another in aggravated frustration. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the door closing in the room behind him, his jaw also clenching in annoyance now at the thought of an unwanted interruption to his own self-pitying. He feared it would be his brother seeking him, out of the apparent goodness of his heart, in an attempt to engage him in some form of small talk-like interaction before he would finally broach the subject of Loki’s foul mood.

Loki, however, had no intention of confiding anything to his brother, especially not in matters of his feelings or frustrations of the heart. He would gain nothing from it, he was certain, and would never hear the end of it from his irksome brother.

Yet that was what was troubling him, his damn heart was overpowering his head, and as a man of brains and logic, it was very disturbing.

As a smart man, it should be clear to him that [Y/N] [L/N] was a Midgardian, not an Asgardian, and, due to that alone, she was not a suitable partner for him. It should be clear to him that he had berated Thor for a similar attachment of the emotions to a human only a few years earlier. It should be clear to him that love – if it could be argued to exist – was a weakness and something he – Loki - could not afford.

And it should be clear to him that, even if all that didn’t matter, [Y/N] [L/N] was already taken – that her soft skin, her shy blushes, her flirtatious smirks, her gentles touches and witty, teasing comments… They would never be his…

“Loki?” As if thinking your name had somehow summoned you, Loki now dropped his hands in surprise, turning slowly to find you now stood in the doorway to the balcony, watching him with a confused, concerned frown. You sniffed, “What are you – why are you still out here?”

“What time is it?” He asked instead of answering your question.

“It’s uh –“ You glanced down at your watch, though barely - as though it was just a habit and you in fact already knew what the time was, “it’s only nine,” You admitted, lifting your head again, “but I – uh – I thought you’d have already retired to your books by now.” You confessed, stepping out onto the balcony, the cold breeze immediately whipping across the ledge and pulling at your hair and the looser parts of your dress.

You looked even more beautiful than usual, Loki couldn’t help noticing, your hair styled for once rather than its usual, more practical look and your makeup somehow enhancing the flecks of colour in your eyes, drawing his gaze, and he noticed how they seemed red and maybe slightly puffy.

Like you’d been crying.

You wrapped your arms around your chest now against the chill in the air, ducking your head and glancing away as though in an attempt to shield your face from Loki’s scrutinising, but you couldn’t help the necessity to sniff again, unfolding one of your cold hands to quickly brush at your cheek.

“You are back early…” Loki observed carefully, watching you intently.

You cleared your throat. “I – I saw no reason to hang around.” You confessed thickly. It was clear you were still attempting to try and maintain some form of dignity in front of Loki but failing when your own tears now quickly overwhelm you.

You screwed her eyes closed in an attempt to stop them, turning away fully now, but a few managed to escape from the corner of your eyes and soon you couldn’t help it any longer, giving up and allowing the rest to tumble down your cheeks unhindered.

Immediately Loki was in front of you again, his hands grabbing your upper arms to stop you turning away from him, though you refused to look at him as his eyes flickered over your face and body, conducting a survey of damage as he held you at arm’s length. “Tell me what happened.” He demanded urgently, his voice almost a growl.

You silently shook your head as the tears continued to run from your eyes. “It’s over.” You finally managed, fighting against your own sobs. “I – I – I wasn’t,” You choked out, still shaking your head incessantly, “I wasn’t enough…” You mumbled, then suddenly seemed to sag forward, dropping your head against Loki’s chest, much to his surprise, ignoring his attempt to keep you at a safe distance from him. He blinked in astonishment for a moment, feeling your strength crumbling beneath his grip, before he finally released your arms, allowing you to now fall completely against him. He let his arms wrap around you now instead, holding you against him as you sobbed nosily into his loose shirt.

“[Y/N],” He murmured down to you, his lips skimming your hair lightly, “I assure you, you are far more than enough.” He promised, breathing you in. “And I am sorry this has happened.”

“S’not your fault.” You dismissed thickly into his chest, then suddenly seemed to remember yourself, pulling away and keeping you head down to hide your puffy eyes, wiping quickly and rather ineffectively at your cheeks and nose. “I – I ‘m sorry, I – uh - I didn’t mean to - “ You mumbled embarrassedly, gesturing vaguely at yourself then at Loki and the darkened patch on his shirt where the material was saturated with your tears. “I – I really didn’t think anyone would still be up here,” You croaked in explanation, “– J-Jarvis said everyone had gone out…”

“Yes, well, I’m hardly classed as ‘everyone’…” Loki observed bitterly.

You frowned at this, seeming to forget your own distress for a brief moment. “That’s not fair and they all know it!” You protested with a scowl, I – I’ll speak with Stark.” You growled, squaring your shoulders, as though you were about to march up to him right now, forgetting your red eyes and smeared makeup.

“As the technology told you, the metal man is currently out for the night.” Loki reminded you with an amused twist of his lips. “My concern is not, and never has been, on being included in my brother’s friendship groups.” He muttered, “Right now, I am more concerned about you - you are not hurt, are you?” He frowned, his eyes roaming over you again.

“No, of course not.” You scowled weakly, batting your hand in the air to stop his scan of you. “You know he wasn’t like that, Loki.” You reprimanded lightly with a scowl.

“One can never be too careful…” He muttered in defence - he never wanted you hurt, but he wouldn’t have minded an excuse to pay the kid a visit.

Not that he really needed an excuse.

“Look can we not – can we just not talk about it?” You now asked desperately. “I just - I just think I need to sit down and take my mind off it.”

Loki nodded at this. “A drink?” He offered as he now placed a light hand on your back to steer around.

“Sounds perfect.” You nodded with a sniff, letting him lead you back inside.

Loki headed to the bar on the other side of the room, pouring two glasses of Stark’s premium collection, before then moving to where you had fallen onto one of the sofas. You thanked him as he handed you a glass, then he went to take a nearby armchair. “Wait.” Loki faltered, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow, making you turn slightly red, “Look, you – uh – you have every right to tell me to shove off an all, but… I – uh – I could really use with someone right now and – well you’re the only one here…” You admitted with a shrug and Loki raised his eyebrow even further at this particular compliment - though you didn’t see, your head down as you mumbled - “And, if I’m completely honest, you’re also the only person I want right now…”

Loki’s eyebrow dropped in surprise at this and you kept your head down, thoroughly embarrassed by your confession. “I – I just – I mean – I – could you – could you just sit with me?” You stuttered, gesturing at the cushion next to you.

Loki hesitated at the request. He had been trying to avoid being alone with you for as long as he could remember now – ever since he’d found out about him. When he couldn’t – or shouldn’t – do anything. But now you weren’t.

It still struck him as a bad idea – you were in a vulnerable place right now and he knew he’d had a list of reasons, other than you being with another man, to not involve himself with you... But in that moment, none of them seemed the slightest bit important.

Loki kept his face impassive as he now sat down beside you, even though he could already feel the warmth radiating off your skin and the scent of you still clinging tortuously to his clothes. He was painfully aware of how temptingly close you were again now, and ensured he kept himself to the very edge of the sofa, sat too upright and every muscle tense.

“Look, I – uh – I know you like your personal space…” You now muttered awkwardly, mistaking his discomfort, “But I –“ You stopped, chewing your lip anxiously, clearly unsure how to broach the question and shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“Not when you are concerned.” Loki assured you quietly, noticing your struggles and already catching sight of the fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes. “I would consider it no less than my duty.” Loki murmured gently, and you glanced up in surprise before giving him a weak, almost strangled smile, the pain that flashed in your eyes placing a similar constriction on his heart.

Had he said something wrong?

You nodded soberly at this, but nevertheless shuffled closer, gently leaning into Loki until you laid against his chest again. Loki hesitated for a moment, but then cautiously laid an arm around you. “I am sorry,” You mumbled into him.

“There is no apology necessary.” Loki stated indifferently, “You have been hurt - I am only too aware that physical pain is often preferential to mental pain – especially when the heart is involved.”

You lifted your head slightly, “You’ve felt like this before?” You sniffed in surprise.

Loki wanted to deny it but couldn’t see the point. “Yes.” He said with a single small nod.

“A-And you got through it? How?” You croaked desperately.

“I haven’t...” Loki confessed honestly. “Not really.” He glanced away from you, “I do not believe a heart can mend,” He explained, “much like any other anatomical tissue, the new is always weaker than before and there is nearly always the scar of the memory…” He murmured quietly.

“That’s… almost beautiful.” You mumbled, having been staring up at him as he spoke. “Can you tell me about her?” You asked, and Loki glanced down at her in surprise at the request. “You don’t have to,” You backtracked quickly, “…if it still hurts.”

“No, I – I am capable.” He assured you, glancing away again and pausing in thought for a moment before he spoke again. “She was – is –“ He corrected, “beautiful. She can see through my illusions and never backs down at the cruel remarks that I never mean…” He mumbled. “She calls me out when I become detached and uncaring… Can pull the real me back... She fascinates me and no care for traditions or reasonable thoughts can stop me loving her…” He turned back to you now where you had lowered yourself back onto his chest as you’d listened, your eyes on your hand that you’d rested on his waist. “But then she fell in love with someone else.” He murmured down at you.

“Did you know if she loved you, though?” You asked quietly below him, and he thought he heard your voice crack slightly. You were intelligent – another reason to love you – and you must have suspected something. “I don’t know.” Loki admitted truthfully. You pulled back once more to finally look Loki in face again. You were so close he could smell the alcohol on your breath. “But I had hope.” He confessed. “I always have hope.” He murmured, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your slightly parted lips.

Then suddenly you had lunged forward and captured his lips, closing your eyes as you poured your passion and desire into it. It took Loki by surprise for only a moment before he was eagerly returning the kiss he had been starving for, your hand’s coming up to cup his cheeks as Loki pulled you in closer with the arm around you, his other hand going to your hip.

He pulled back briefly, both of you already gasping for air. “Don’t tease me,” He growled dangerously at you, “Because I won’t stop.” He warned.

“I’m not.” You gasped, “I want it.” You insisted, “I want you.” Loki growled in response to this, now pulling you up and over him so you straddled his lap, then tugged you back down to him almost desperately.

Both your hands went back to his face again now, holding him against your lips even though he could think of nothing that would have made him pull away. Content that Loki wasn’t about to break the kiss again, you allowed your fingers to slide up until they entangled in his hair, Loki’s own hands stroking down your back slowly till they found your ass. You moaned into his mouth, rocking forward against him and Loki could feel the bulge in his pants reacting to this pressure alone.

He growled at your teasing, squeezing his grip on your cheeks till you squeaked and giggled against his lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my love.” He muttered against you.

You pulled back, a devilish twinkle in your eyes as you knelt above him, cupping his cheek with one hand again and tipping his head back. “Oh, I fully intend to make good on it.” You grinned before kissing him hungrily once more. Loki wasn’t letting you take the control though, breaking the kiss again and taking advantage of your heightened position to kiss and nip your throat and collarbone making you moan and bite your lip again, your hands slipping to his shoulders where they gripped tightly in an attempt to keep yourself upright.

Loki grinned against your skin, moving one hand to the small of your back before turning and pushing you back onto the sofa so you were laid out before him. You grinned up at him eagerly from the cushions and Loki knew he probably should have paused then and considered that this was all a big mistake, that you were feeling sad and lonely and were making a rash, reckless decision…

But in that moment, he really didn’t care – he was getting what he had been craving for so long and he’d never hurt you – he loved you and perhaps you loved him.

Or could.

His decision seemed made for him when you now wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him down on top of you. Loki grinned, planting his hands either side of your head as he leant down to your lips again.

Your hands slipped round his side, feeling his muscles tense under your strokes, before your fingers trailed down his stomach the front of his trousers.

He growled against you again, “So eager, aren’t we?” He asked as he pulled back, catching your hands. You whined eagerly, and Loki smirked dangerously at how excited you already were. “Maybe you need to learn some patience…” He teased, slowly moving your arms up and over your head as he leant in close to your face, his breath brushing distractingly against your mouth.

You parted your lips to breathe him in, the scent going straight to your head and you closed your eyes at the bliss, wanting more. “Please.” You whimpered.

“Not yet, my love.” He growled casting a simple locking charm to keep your hands in place above you before slipping down your body, his hands gripping the edge of your dress and easing it up your thighs. You struggled weakly with your restraints, helping him shimmy the material up your body, somehow managing to pass the sleeves over your hands though they remained locked in place by the invisible restraints.

Before you could truly comprehend you were now left only in your underwear, Loki had tossed the dress away and grabbed your ankles, pulling you now to the edge of the sofa and kneeling before you. He bowed to your ankle, placing a feather-light kiss on the sensitive skin, chilling his breath as he blew along the skin of your legs, crawling back up your body. You squirmed under the sensation, moans muffled as she bit down hard in the inside of your lip.

Loki paused at the top of your thighs, so you opened your eyes in confusion, glancing down your body at where he had paused, your eyes locking with his heated gaze. Without looking away, Loki lowered his face to where only your panties remained, blowing cold air on the damp material that covered your heat.

You couldn’t help it, unable to hold back the moan this time, tilting your head back, knowing it was only a tease of what was to come - of what you so desperately wanted. “Loki.” You panted, pushing your hips towards him, though he simply pulled away slightly, denying you his mouth on the area. “Stop.” You managed to hiss through her teeth

“What is exactly that you’d like me to stop…?” Loki asked innocently, his eyes sparking with mischief.

“Stop teasing.” You groaned, still bucking your hips pointlessly. “Please.”

Loki grinned, leaning down to bite the rim of your panties, slowly peeling them down your legs and you couldn’t help squirming where he teeth grazed your skin. Before you knew it, your underwear was gone, and you were exposed to the cold air and Loki’s gaze.

You instinctively went to close your legs, but Loki’s strong hands were already in place, easily holding them open. “I have only dreamt of this sight…” He purred, “Of this taste…” He almost growled, as he lowered himself down. You gasped as his lips met you, your head jerking back and your thighs would have clenched if they could.

Loki was thorough, sucking, rubbing and teasing you, your sweetness better than he had imagined and practically intoxicating. Coupled with your moans it was enough to make him to go painfully hard.

Despite this, he continued his slow torment on you till you were a writhing mess beneath him before he then pulled back, slipping up your body to combine the taste of you with your lips. You groaned at the loss of contact, but welcome his lips again, desperately fighting your restraints above you, wanting to touch him. “Loki – please.” You protested distractedly.

“I am going to remove every scent, every touch, every thought of him.” He promised with a dangerous growl, his hands slipping beneath you to release the clasp of your bra.

“Do it. Please.” You begged, arching your back do he could pull your last piece of underwear off. It took barely any time for him to lose his own clothes, seeming unable – or unwilling – to release your for even a moment before his hands and lips were greedily back on you again.

He turned his attention you your chest now, kneading one breast as he kissed the underside of the other. “As much as I want to spend hours loving every part of your body my dear,” He murmured against the sensitive skin between your breasts, “I cannot stand this much longer.” He confessed, and you watched thoroughly barely opened eyes as he now moved to position himself at your entrance.

You felt him brush against you. “Oh my god.” You moaned, and Loki knew your helpless was killing you just as much as you were loving it.

“Yes.” He gasped, “I am your god,” He growled, unable to wait any longer, “And I am going to prove it…” Without warning he thrust into you. He had wanted to take it low and savour it, but he couldn’t. Not now when he needed you so badly.

You cried out as he forced his way into you, the sensation of you tightening around him enough to make his mind go completely blank for a moment and the spell binding your hand’s failed, freeing you. At first you didn’t realise though, your face screwed up in pain at the size of Loki and the stretch of your walls at his intrusion. Loki faltered slightly, worried he’d gone too far but the minute he stopped, you whined desperately, unable to find words, instead dropping your head back, eyes closed, and frantically grabbing at his back trying to get him to move again. “Loki.” You hissed, and that beg was all he needed.

You clung to him desperately as he thrust unto you again, the pain on your face soon ebbing away to pleasure. You kept your eyes closed as the bliss built within him, and Loki’s hands went to your hips now, pulling you into each of his thrusts before he lifted one of your legs to hook around his waist. You soon followed suit with your other leg, the new angle allowing Loki to plunge deeper inside you. You cried his name out as you clung to him, rocking with his motions, your nails digging into his back as he felt his crescendo building.

You slipped your hands up to his hair again now, yanking his head down in a mixture of pain and pleasure as you captured his mouth one more. The kiss didn’t last long before you both broke away again, gasping for air and leaning your foreheads against each other, gazes locked as Loki continued to pound into you, watching every flicker of pleasure across your features.

You bit down hard on your lip, closing your eyes and he could tell you were as close as he was. “I can’t –“ You managed to gasp out, letting out a silent moan.

“Then don’t.” He growled, capturing your lips one last time as he then felt your entire body tense around him as you came, causing him to do the same, crying out your name in ecstasy.

Loki woke in bed the next morning, not entirely sure he could remember how he had got there from the sofa. He turned his head to the side to see you curled up in a foetal position next to him, your hand under your cheek and watching his confused expression with your beautiful eyes and an amused smile.

He reached out a hand to stroke your cheek as you, in turn, reached for him.

But he never felt your touch, and his own hand passed straight through your cheek in a glimmer of gold.

Loki felt his heart drop and crack at the same time. His illusions lacked any density without his dreams and your whole image now wavered in front of him. You continued to smile that - almost cruel now – smirk as you flickered and faded before Loki’s eyes, soon leaving him completely alone in the bed with nothing but a damp patch next to him and the heavy aching heart that came with reality.

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thejokersenigma · 6 years

Text

Steve Rogers x Reader - Oneshot - Foxtrot

This was just a random idea I came up with ages ago. I apologise to the Peggy-Rogers shippers - I came up with this idea after not having watched the first Captain America for about three years, so I forgot the importance of the whole ‘dance’ to Steve. Hope most people like it anyway? Only time I get to put my basic dance move knowledge to any use haha

I’ve never written Steve Rogers properly before, so I hope he’s not too ooc! I based this sort of just after the first avengers movie.

WARNINGS: None

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

MAIN MASTERLIST

“Captain?” Had he heard you? “Captain Rogers?” You tried again.

“Ah, uh, hmm?” Steve Rogers jolted upright from where he had been dozing in one of the armchairs found in the communal room of the Avenger’s tower. He blinked rapidly now, shaking his head briefly to force himself back to reality before he caught sight of where you were lingering by the door. “Oh - uh – my apologies, I –“

You held up a hand to stop him. “Hey –“ You grimaced in understanding, “Don’t worry, Captain - no need to explain.” You assured him. “Believe it or not, you are allowed to be tired, sir - and you are allowed to sleep.” You smirked at him brazenly. “Superhuman stills means you’re human, sir.”

Rogers ducked his head, seeming to be almost embarrassed that you’d found his weak spot. “Don’t tell Fury that.” He muttered lightly.

“Long hours?” You grimaced again.

Rogers stretched in his seat, wincing at a particular sore spot in his shoulder. “You could say that.” He said with a half-smile. “Did Stark send you down to get me?” He asked, raising a brow.

“It’s not a party without the Captain.” You cheered weakly, and Roger’s raised an amused, incredulous eyebrow at you. You made a face at him seeing through you, “Only way I was allowed to ditch it myself, Sir,” You confessed guiltily. “Not my sort of scene really.”

“Nor mine.” Steve agreed, nodding his head in understanding. He paused for a moment then glanced over at you, his brow slightly furrowed in confusion. “Do you mind me asking then why Stark invited you?” You blinked in surprised. “I mean – it’s just… well, you don’t seem like the type of women Tony usually likes to fill his parties with.” Rogers tried to clarify.

“And just what sort of women would that be, Captain?” You taunted, raising your eyebrows expectantly.

“Oh, no - I didn’t mean – you know, I just meant -“

“It’s fine Captain, I’m just teasing.” You giggled. “I’m not like Stark’s girls, because I’m not one of Stark’s girls.” You told him, “I’m part of staff – automatically gets an invite?” You reminded him.

“Oh, I’m really sorry – I didn’t mean –“

You shook your head with a grin. “Please, Captain - stop apologising.” You insisted with a laugh. “I’m new – easy mistake.” You allowed, “ - Though I never thought I be confused as one of Stark’s girls.” You added with a laugh and Steve grimaced regretfully. “But I didn’t come here to make you uncomfortable, Captain – just to force you against your will.” You winked. Steve groaned, letting his head fall back the back of the chair again. You smirked sympathetically. “I’d ask if it’s really that bad, but I know it is.” You chuckled.

“Ah, it’s not terrible.” Steve admitted, dropping his chin, “Just a bit different from my time.” He confessed, now going to push himself reluctantly out of his chair.

“Oh?” You asked, intrigued as you watched him stiffly rise to his feet. His passed interested you greatly, but you hadn’t been sure how willing he was to talk about it.

“The dancing’s just a lot less… I don’t know.” He shook his head, then chuckled. “A dance in my day was quite a show – kept everyone’s moral up – got some quite interesting dances out of it – arms and legs flying everywhere.” He chuckled at the memory, “Somehow though, it was completely planned and co-ordinated – rarely a step out of place. – Better music as well.” He added with a twist of his lips.

You laughed. “Can’t argue with that, Sir.”

“Steve, please.” He insisted, glancing over at you.

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, but you nodded all the same. “Steve.” You agreed with a smile. You shifted uncomfortably where you still stood. “So, arms and legs flying everywhere, hmm?” You asked, hesitant to leave even if you had technically done your assigned duty now.

Steve laughed and nodded as he went to grab his empty glass from the table. “Surprisingly often.” He admitted.

“Sounds rather terrifying.” You confessed with a smirk.

“No scarier than some of the dance move’s I’ve seen at Stark’s many celebrations.” Steve pointed out with a half-smile

“Made it easier to get a date though, I imagine.” You mused, as you thought back to that time period, how every dance was usually coupled.

“More necessary to have one maybe,” Steve, laughed, “Not easier to get one.” He corrected.

You scowled playfully, “Oh, you can’t tell me Captain America didn’t have girls lining up to dance with him?” You smirked incredulously.

Steve moved across the room towards the kitchen now, “I – uh – never got the chance to dance after I was the Captain,” He explained honestly, “And I can’t say there was anyone in line when I was a skinny ass kid.” He smirked, glancing back at you as he placed his glass in the sink. He caught the look on your face. “Hey, you didn’t see me.” He chuckled.

“I dunno,” You mused with a smirk, “I always did prefer an underdog.” You winked, and you couldn’t believe you were flirting with the Steve Rogers.

He laughed though, “Well if my looks didn’t hinder me, my moves certainly did.” He pointed out “- Practise may make perfect, but I personally had no practise.” He shook his head in amusement.

“Well, if it helps, in this day and age your limited skills probably put you in the top ten percent of dancers.” You laughed.

“Oh, I’m sure you can easily match me.” He dismissed.

You snorted, “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“Right, come here.” He gestured for you.

“What?” You laughed in disbelief, taking a tiny step back when he stepped toward you - despite him being practically on the other side of the room. “N - no, I - I can’t.” You said quickly, your cheeks flushing red.

“Sure, you can.” Steve insisted, holding out his hand, “I’ll show you, something slow – it’s easier.” He explained, stepping for confidently towards you now, covering the distance quickly with his long strides whilst you stayed in place.

“Sir – Steve,” You caught yourself, glancing down at the hand he held out as he stopped just in front of you. “There’s no music.” You protested weakly, wanting to place your palm in his, but worried.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to follow my lead.” He smirked light-heartedly. “Come on,” He urged when you still hesitated. “I thought you liked an underdog.” He teased.

You laughed, and - against your better judgement - you finally took his hand, cautiously stepping towards him as he gently pulled you in by your hand. “Ok.” You breathed nervously, trying to steady yourself. “What am I doing?” You asked anxiously, watching your feet, not quite able to believe what you were about to do. You were going to dance. With Captain America. You weren’t sure which part of that you were more afraid of.

“Ok, well, I’m going to keep hold of this hand, but hold it out here.” Steve explained, lifting your hand he still held up and out to the side. “And then, I’m going to put my hand here,” Steve told you clearly, moving his free hand to you back, placing it lightly at the bottom of your shoulder blade. “And now you do the same.” He nodded, and you faltered in surprise, forgetting you too had to be proactive, before you hesitantly lifted your own free hand to copy him. You could feel your cheeks burn as your hand brushed his back. You could only pray your palms didn’t become too sweaty. “Ok, have you heard of a foxtrot before?”

“Uh - heard of it.” You mumbled, “Never done it.”

“Me neither.” Steve confessed, then smirked down at you. “I think I know the basic, though.” He admitted, glancing down to check his foot positioning and shifting his grip on your hands slightly. “Ok.” He breathed, “Music maestro.” He muttered, and you ducked your head, sniggering quietly. The corner of Steve’s mouth twitch at your giggle. “Right, I’m going to step forward,” He warned you, “and you –“

“Step back?” You guessed, keeping your head down to watch yourself move your foot back as the Captain’s foot went forward.

“And now step the other foot back beyond that one…” Steve instructed, and you watched as you moved your foot to counteract his own, stepping back as he stepped his other foot forward.

“Ok, and now step to the side with me.” He said, taking a step to your right you followed after him, “and bring your other foot to meet.” Steve explained, and you copied his movement again till you stood in the same position as you started, your feet together directly in front of him. “Tah dah.” He hummed.

“That’s it?” You asked in surprise, glancing up from your feet for the first time.

“That’s it.” He nodded with a smirk. “Well, the basics anyway.” He shrugged.

You laughed, “Ok, I can do that.” You grinned more confidently.

“Congratulations, you’ve reached the level of my expertise.” He chuckled. “Come on, once again.” Steve ordered lightly, his hands still in place. You nodded more eagerly this time. “Back, back,” Rogers instructed you, this time keeping his own head up, though your own eyes had dropped back to your feet the moment it came to dancing again, “Side, side.”

You glanced up with a grin when you’d finished another set. “It’s actually easier than I thought,” You confessed, the relief evident in your voice. “It’s… nice.” You admitted shyly, flickering your eyes briefly up to the Captain’s before you dropped your eyes to his chest instead. “Do you mind if we do it once more?” You asked nervously.

One more that you could fully enjoy before you returned to reality.

“Yes, Ma’am” He said obediently, lifting your hand again, and repositioning the one at your back. You immediately looked to your feet as you began to follow through the steps again, but then Steve pressed your back slightly, edging you closer together so it was more difficult to see your feet. You looked up at him in confusion. “You can do it without looking.” He told you with a gentle smile, “You’ll flow better if you go with the movement.” He explained. You swallowed nervously but tried it and, though you mis-stepped a few times thanks to your nerves, you soon fell into the rhythm. Steve didn’t let you stop after one or two sets though, always immediately pulling you into another after another until you found yourself in a continuous, never ending dance. When he felt content you were comfortable with the steps, Steve seemed to increase the pace of the dance slightly. You automatically gripped his hand and back more tightly as you stumbled the first few steps as you tried to keep up with him, but Steve was patient and it wasn’t long before the two of you were falling back in sync again, now gliding far more smoothly around the large open plan room.

You couldn’t help the grin on your face at what you were somehow managing to do, though your grip on Steve barely loosened.

Steve seemed to have a song in his mind as he spun you around the room because there was almost a rhythm to his steps and it was a good few minutes before he finally pulled you to a stop.

“You, Captain Rogers,” You panted slightly, “Are a liar.” You smirked, and he looked confused at your reprimanding. “You told me you couldn’t dance, yet here I am getting swept off my feet like it’s the 1900’s.” You grinned up at him, then suddenly became aware of you how close you still were. You dropped your hand from his back, biting your lip awkwardly.

Steve suddenly realised the same, “Oh – sorry.” He murmured almost sheepishly, dropping his hand from your back as well and releasing your other hand. He seemed about to say something more when something over your shoulder caught his attention.

“Agent.” Steve greeted formally. You turned in surprise to see none other than agent Clint Barton strolling casually into the room who nodded to the two of you in greeting.

You suddenly remembered yourself, feeling your face redden again as you turned back to Steve. “I - I’m afraid I haven’t – uh – haven’t done my assigned duty.” You confessed. I’ve only managed to detain you further rather than send you to the party.” You observed.

“Oh yes, I’m sure he’s really missing me.” Steve drawled sarcastically with an amused half-smile.

“Either way,” You shook your head with a grin, “I should – I should go.” You said gesturing at the doorway, glancing between the agent and Steve and already taking a step back. “I – uh – I hope you have a good night, Captain Rogers.” You smiled genuinely, as you turned to leave. “Agent.” You nodded in farewell.

Barton nodded back at you kindly.

“And you –“ Steve began, then falter when it suddenly hit him that he’d never asked your name.

You couldn’t help the snicker that escape your lips from the look on his face as you glanced back, still walking towards the door. “[Y/N].” You called back to him with a grin.

Steve ducked his head sheepishly where he still stood, nodding in acknowledge. “Goodnight [Y/N].” He smirked, glancing up at you.

You gave him a last small, shy smile in parting before you finally disappeared around the doorframe and into the corridor.

Steve glanced to Barton now, who had raised one eyebrow suggestively at the solider. Steve sighed, in a don’t-say-anything kind of way. “What’s up Barton?” Steve muttered, turning away and deciding he might need another drink.

“Tough kid, eh?” He observed, glancing back at the door where you had disappeared. “Barely even limping.” He noted.

Steve frowned. “Why would she be limping?”

“Please tell you’re kidding?” Clint asked incredulously, standing on the other side of the breakfast bar whilst Steve retrieved his glass. “What did ya do, talk about yourself the whole time?” He demanded in disbelief. Steve had the decency to feel his cheeks warm as he grabbed a tea towel. “That’s [Y/N] [L/N].” He stated as though that meant something. “Remember Alaska?” Clint prompted with wide eyes. Steve frowned – of course he remembered Alaska - worst team losses he’d suffered for years. “That kid was part of the support team for us - nearly had her whole leg blown off.” Clint explained as Steve now handed him a drink before turning to pour his own. “She was in surgery for weeks, only released the other day.” He informed Steve, then dropped his chin, staring at his drink for a moment. “Only survivor of her group.” He stated, lifting the drink to take a large gulp, clear that this fact weighed heavily on him.

Steve’s eyes flickered to the door as he tried his glass. The girl had been nervous to dance – now he knew why – prosthetics were difficult at the best of times, let alone if you were still relatively new to them. She’d been slower sure, maybe clumsy, perhaps, but she’d said it herself she’d never done it before, so he’d simply put it down to that. Yes, now looking back, maybe she’d held onto him more - leant into him – but Steve hadn’t really thought on it at the time. Given the amount of time since he’d last dance he couldn’t have said it wasn’t normal anyway.

“What does she do now?” Steve muttered, finally pulling his eyes away from the empty doorway.

Barton glanced up from where he too had been lost in his own thoughts. “Stark hooked her up with a job in the engineer – apparently she’s quite handy with a wrench.” Barton informed. “In numerous ways I’ve heard.” He smirked reluctantly, and Steve raised an amused eyebrow at this. “Let’s just say if you see an engineer with a bruised forehead, you’ll know why – you’ll also know he deserved it.” Clint snorted.

Steve snickered lightly, barely knowing [Y/N] but somehow thinking this suited her character.

“So, what?” Clint said, leaning back from the bar with his drink, with a quirked eyebrow. “Thinking about paying the engineering department a visit?” He teased suggestively.

Steve shrugged as he turned to face the agent with his glass, leaning back against the counter with folded arms. Steve smirked lightly, “It’s possible my bike might need some work…” He confessed.

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