#Pagers and Petals

[celestialspark]

新年快乐! 🐍

Thank you so much for these piece, seeing these two together just makes me smile so much! As always, you got their character traits perfectly and the "hidden" things in the piece make it just so very lovely~~

The chibis are even lovelier and this truly is just the two of them in their daily life ♥

Another piece of story from @celestialspark . Happy 🐍 year!

[yellingintothedarkness]

America DEEP STATE PURE EVIL In a first official response to a series of explosions of Hezbollah communication devices across Lebanon, U.S. State Department spokesman Matthew Miller affirmed on Tuesday that the United States was “not involved.” https://allisrael.com/us-says-it-was-not-aware-and-not-involved-in-lebanon-s-pager-explosions Was caught OFF GUARD like the rest of the world was caught off guard Petal to the metal NOT LET UP MORE SURPRISES on the way America will have no influence on what Israel does Israel WILL NOT LISTEN TO AMERICA BUT ISRAEL WILL ONLY LISTEN TO GOD using Bible as their compass AMEN\0/

[girlkisser13]

lover

"can i go where you go?" "can we always be this close?" "forever and ever"

pairings: mark sloan x fem!reader

warnings/tags: none. tooth rotting fluff.

summary: mark has something special planned for your three year anniversary.

the hospital buzzed with the usual mix of organized chaos, but something felt different today. you could feel it in the air— a charge, a sense of anticipation that had nothing to do with the day's surgeries or patient charts. it was your three-year anniversary with mark, and while you tried to keep your expectations grounded, there was a part of you that couldn't help but wonder if today would be the day he asked you the question you'd been dreaming of.

mark had been acting strange all morning, and your suspicion only grew when you found him in the locker room with derek and jackson, who hastily shoved something behind his back as you approached.

"hey, what are you guys up to?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at mark. you knew him too well to miss the guilty look that flashed across his face.

"nothing," mark replied, his tone overly casual, which immediately set off alarms in your mind. "why would you think we're up to something?"

you crossed your arms, leaning against the locker. "you're terrible at lying, you know that, right?"

jackson smirked, clearly amused by mark's struggle. "i'm gonna... head out," he said, giving mark a knowing look before slipping past you.

"yeah, me too," derek added, giving mark a pat on the back as he followed jackson out of the room.

now alone with mark, you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to crack. "mark, what's going on?"

"nothing," he repeated, this time with a bit more emphasis. he was trying too hard to sound nonchalant, and it only made you more suspicious.

"uh-huh," you said, not buying it for a second. "are you sure there's nothing you're hiding from me?"

mark leaned in, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. "nope. not hiding anything," he said in that exaggerated tone that made it clear he was hiding something.

you opened your mouth to question him further, but before you could get another word out, he was already walking away. "mark!" you called after him, but he just flashed you a grin over his shoulder and quickened his pace.

with a sigh, you started to follow him, determined to get to the bottom of whatever he was up to, but then your pager went off. you glanced at it, seeing derek's name and a priority code that made your heart skip a beat.

you hurried to the nearest phone and dialed derek's extension. "derek, what's going on? is everything okay?"

there was a pause on the other end of the line, and then derek's voice came through, sounding suspiciously amused. "yeah, everything's fine. i just need your help with something."

"really?" you said, skepticism lacing your tone. "this couldn't wait?"

"nope," derek replied. "it's urgent. meet me on the fifth floor, near the ors."

with an exasperated sigh, you hung up and headed toward the elevators. the fifth floor was bustling with activity as usual, and as you turned the corner, you saw derek standing by the nurses' station, looking far too pleased with himself.

"okay, i'm here," you said, slightly out of breath. "what's so urgent?"

derek smiled and gestured for you to step closer. "look down," he said.

you frowned, confused, but did as he asked. and that's when you saw them—a trail of rose petals scattered on the floor, leading away from the nurses' station and down the hallway.

your heart started to race as you looked back at derek. "what's going on?"

he simply grinned. "follow the petals."

you hesitated for a second before following the trail. the petals led you down the hallway, around a corner, and to the door of the hospital lounge. your breath caught in your throat as you slowly pushed the door open.

inside, the lights were dimmed, casting a soft, romantic glow over the room. more rose petals were scattered across the floor, and there were candles flickering on every available surface. the scent of roses filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

and there, standing in the middle of it all, was mark.

he turned as you entered, a smile spreading across his face. "hi," he said, his voice warm and inviting.

"hi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you take in the scene around you. "what... what is all of this?"

mark took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours. "do you remember this place?"

"of course," you replied, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "we come here to make coffee and change before work. so romantic."

mark let out a laugh, the sound warm and genuine, and shook his head. "okay, fair point. but it's more than that." he smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "this is also where we first met."

you blinked, your mind racing back to that moment three years ago. you'd been in a rush, fumbling with your coffee mug and trying to pull your scrub top over your head when mark had walked in. he'd made some cheeky comment about your lack of coordination, and you'd shot back with something sarcastic. it had been a fleeting encounter, but it had sparked something between you—a connection that had only grown stronger with time.

mark's voice pulled you back to the present. "you were definitely checking me out," he teased, his grin widening.

you laughed, the sound filled with affection. "i was not!"

he chuckled, reaching out to take your hand in his. "don’t deny it, babe." you rolled your eyes as he winked at you. "as soon as i saw you, i knew that you would change my life forever. i'd follow you anywhere."

your heart fluttered at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "mark..."

he squeezed your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. "after that day, i knew that i always wanted to be close to you. i always want to be where you are."

before you could respond, he let go of your hand and reached into the pocket of his doctor's coat. your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out a small velvet box.

"mark," you gasped, your voice trembling as he slowly got down on one knee.

he opened the box, revealing a stunning engagement ring that sparkled in the dim light. "i would follow you to the ends of the earth if it meant i could always be near you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "i've loved you for three years now, y/n. but now, i want all of your years. i want to spend the rest of my life with you. every day, every moment— i want it all. y/n y/l/n, will you marry me?"

for a moment, you were too overwhelmed to speak, your heart pounding in your chest. but then, with tears streaming down your cheeks, you managed to nod. "yes," you whispered. "yes, i'll marry you."

mark's face lit up with joy as he slid the ring onto your finger. he stood up, pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply, as if trying to pour every ounce of his love into that one moment.

when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. "i love you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

"i love you too," he replied, his voice just as tender. more than you'll ever know."

the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside the lounge fading away. in that moment, it was just the two of you, standing at the beginning of forever.

[lastconcourse]

Sinus Door

Burst in sternum: Stabbing pain in left arm

Weak breath breathes fog in a dog dish

The pager buzzes on beat with pain like a cleaver’s slice

She arrives; he falls down

The Ambulance appears.

Kaleidoscopejournal shuffles its petals under a webcam iris:

Overpass Onramp is a doorstop jammed under a black door of Rain.

What’s he doing on the floor? Over a bowl of late dinner cooling

Now get your bags and keys,

Winter coat reflected in a hubcap, spinning,

steering, rolling, tilted stride

toward the white-tile dock.

Kaleidoscope, under an iris, shuffles its petals

The Highway and the Stormcloud are two land-spanning athletes;

acerbic asphalt strides sideways and boxes the wind;

both fighting around first responder’s sirens and lights between.

The gurneyed body is klept in a fiberglass shell,

see Ambulance, disappearing toward the Storm’s sinus,

see it exit toward the dock

Tires on tile melt and

merge with the mist; both

unfold beetle wings, all

go up in a box.

Stabbed left arm: Burst in sternum; and stab

Angel’s parachute, Satellite, good cold Wind

Stabbed left arm: Sternum and stab

Staban, degel edlesat marold el ed tellite

bind gold

Oft Oft Onum Otab

wernim, gorod, degel,

tellite

Ongel Ochute Osatel Oocold

parad, sternum, bold gind

wellite

Oft Oft Onum Otab

Angel’s parachute, Satellite, good cold Wind

Oarnum obstite Odwind oarnum

oft Oft oftc

Angel’s parachute, Satellite, good cold Wind

[midnightsconspiracy]

Out Of The Blue

Out of the Blue - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: After experiencing a hard day at work, your boyfriend decides to treat you to some of your favourite things. Although he may or may not have another surprise in store for you

Warnings: Non-Major Character Death

Word Count: 1683

Requested: Yes!

'What about one in which one of them had a horrible day at work and the other found out and decided to prepare a little surprise to make the day better? Just fluffy thing?'

A/N: Keep sending in your requests whilst my inbox is open and drop me a message if you're bored, id love to talk to some of you about Chicago PD, Med or Fire!! :)

Masterlist

Working at Chicago Med was stressful, to say the least. Every day was filled with what felt like hundreds of patients, running around to make sure you were taking care of them to the best of your ability. For the most part being an ED doctor with fulfilling, seeing people come in sick and come out good as new. But other times it was draining, either from being swept off your feet every minute of the day or doing all that you could for a person and it still not being enough. That was what had happened today.

You were content as you entered the ED that morning, having spent the night at your boyfriend’s. Everything about your relationship was absolutely perfect, with everyone around you noticing your positive change of mood since getting together with Hank. Walking towards the nurse's station to log into a computer, Maggie and April came over to greet you, both commenting on the large grin that plastered your face.

“Someones happy,” April teased, watching your cheeks glow, as you looked down in mock embarrassment.

“Couldn’t have anything to do with the Sergeant boyfriend of yours could it?” Maggie lowered her head as well, trying to catch your eyes to find the truth within them. Opening your mouth to reply, you were interrupted by an incoming patient being wheeled on a gurney, the paramedics beside it holding a grim look on their faces.

The patient turned out to be a six-year old girl, she had suffered severe trauma to multiple areas of her body, including broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a mild concussion. You immediately took the case, being the only ED doctor available at the moment, but also specialising in paediatrics alongside Dr Manning. Looking the girl over, you noted each of her injures, seeing it was consistent with a severe car accident, and proceeding to insert a needle into her lung to allow it to re-inflate, before sending her upstairs to the OR for surgery. To an adult, the injuries wouldn’t have been fatal, but for a girl this size, the extent of the trauma didn’t bode well for her chances of survival. Praying for her as she was wheeled up to surgery, you felt a tear come to your eye, hoping that this little girl would actually be able to live her life to the fullest. An hour had passed and you still hadn’t heard any news on the little girl, so instead of dwelling on it, you busied your mind, taking any patients Maggie would give you, from a broken leg to a baby with a fever. But finally, as you were leaving a low-level emergency case, your pager buzzed, signalling you to the PICU, nodding to Maggie on the way up, knowing it would be the girl who had just come out of surgery. Speaking to her surgeon, you waited for her anaesthetic to wear off, knowing it wouldn’t be too long because of the low dosage she was given. It seemed as though she had no family with her, either injured or dead from the car wreck and so you sat by her bed, not wanting her to be alone when she finally woke up.

As she woke, you held her hand, introducing yourself, trying to make her as comfortable as you could. You spoke to her for a long time, completely forgetting about your other duties downstairs, instead, trying to make her laugh, telling stories and attempting to get her to recall the events that had happened earlier that day. Building trust was important to you, knowing she would need someone who she was happy with before all the other doctors and DCFS got involved. But time got cut short as your pager once again demanded you downstairs to deal with another patient. Quickly saying goodbye, you dashed downstairs to deal a man with a GSW to the abdomen. Checking his wound thoroughly, you tended to it before sending him to specialists upstairs. Content with the job you had done, you continued with your work in the ED.

After your shift had finished, you headed upstairs to say a final goodnight to the girl, bringing a small teddy with you that you had purchased in the gift shop, hoping it would keep her company overnight before you returned the next day. But as you walked towards her room something didn’t seem right. The lights were turned off, the bed empty. Maybe she had just been moved to a different room or ward, you thought to yourself, knowing there was probably a good explanation for this. Turning towards the nurse on duty behind the desk, you questioned her on the whereabouts of your new friend.

“Didn’t you hear? She coded and was pronounced dead an hour ago. Sorry Doctor Y/LN, I thought someone would have told you already.” Staring at the women, your mouth dropped open, stumbling backwards a bit to brace yourself on the doorway behind. Tears fell from your eyes, why would the universe allow an innocent young child to be taken so earlier in their life? Moving back downstairs you felt numb, just wanting this tragic day to be over. You texted Hank telling him you were on your way back and that you had the most horrible day, not going into any details on how or why.

Unbeknownst to you, Hank was already preparing your favourite meals, as he knew you were already getting increasingly stressed at work when your text came in. He felt bad for you, knowing the type of tragedies you saw daily, experiencing similar in his line of work, completely aware of the repercussions people felt being surrounded by death constantly. On top of making dinner for you, your text had prompted him to drove to the store in order to go above and beyond to try and boost your mood, buying things he knew would make your day better. Returning home he had about ten minutes before you would be back to try and set everything up, rushing about the house making sure every individual detail was perfect for your return. The table was prepared beautifully, accessorised with fancy silverware and candles, that were flickering slowly, ready and waiting to provide you with a romantic dinner. He had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, already placed in a vase of water so you wouldn’t have to deal with the fuss of it on your arrival, and rose petals scattered along the floor in the direction of the table to add an extra romantic touch. Finally, he had one more surprise for you, hidden away in his back pocket, one that was guaranteed to make you smile.

Pulling into the driveway you exited your car, noting the darkness within the house, uncommon for this time of night and the fact that Hank had said he would be in all evening. Opening the door you called out to him, hoping that he hadn’t been pulled into another case, spending the night in his office once again. But as you took off your coat to place it on the hook you noticed the flowers on the table, to be specific your favourite flowers. You called out to him again, hoping he would appear to explain what was happening. Looking up, he stood in the doorway, a slight smile on his face, as you finally looked round properly noticing the rose petals, candles and your favourite food on the table.

“You did this all for me?” You asked.

“Of course I did sweetheart, I know you’ve had it hard at work recently so I wanted to surprised you with some of your favourite things.” To most peoples surprise, Hank was a true romantic at heart despite the cold exterior he held, just wanting to pamper you and treat you like the queen you were. Whether that be buying you your favourite sweets or complimenting you whenever possible, he did everything in his power to make sure you were happy.

Leading you towards the dinner table, you both sat down, quickly making conversation about everything, except work, that being an unspoken rule between you. Conversation flowed easily, both of you just happy to be in the presence of each other once more. Dinner had been polished off, with Hank fetching the dessert from the fridge after as you uttered the millionth ‘thank you’ to him. You both tucked in, moaning at the flavour that tasted like heaven after the day you had had. Looking up you noticed your boyfriend's demeanour had changed, no longer joyful but instead nervous, staring at his hands in his lap.

“What’s wrong Hank?” You asked, worried you had done something to set off this mood change. Instead of replying he lifted his hands from his lap onto the table along with a velvet box, slowly opening it to reveal a ring.

“Y/N, I know we haven’t been together that long and we haven’t discussed this that much but I’m getting old, and whilst I was thinking about that, I realised you really are it for. I can't even imagine myself with someone else or not spending the rest of my days with you. So Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” Tears pricked your eyes, never in a million years would you have expected this, but instead of being angry about it, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more.

“Only if you do it properly and get down on one knee,” you countered, watching as he got off his chair and onto one knee.

“So will you?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed throwing yourself into his arms.

As the evening winded down, you laid in Hank's arms on your shared bed thinking about everything life had given you. You couldn’t have met anyone as perfect as the man beside you. The man you would spend the rest of your life with, bear children with and grow old with. So as you drifted off to sleep, you pictured the little girl, hoping she was in heaven looking down on your life and smiling

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 16 - Be Careful

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, can they bear the news?, 2.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: cancer mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

Julie sat beside Luke at the small table they had set up beside Rose’s bed. A stack of photos, glue sticks, stickers, scissors, and tons of colored paper covered the table, as well as another stack of photos sitting within Rose’s reach.

“Oh, look at this picture of Carlos,” Rose said in her raspy voice. She lifted one of him as a chubby two year old wearing a baseball cap that was too big, clapping his hands together.

“Aww,” Julie looked affectionately at the photo, tilting her head.

“He’s a cute kid, Mrs. Molina,” Luke said. He continued cutting music notes out of a sheet of purple paper.

“Thanks for visiting me today,” Rose said. “I heard you and the boys have been busy in the studio?”

Grinning like the goof he was, Luke nodded. Julie couldn’t help suppressing a giggle. Even though she knew he was tired from long hours and he only had a little time to get away, he’d still been all about coming with her to visit her mom this morning. She wasn’t sure he was that interested in scrapbooking, but it was sweet of him to come along.

“Yeah, it’s been so fun,” he was saying. “I don’t know how the guys in production make us sound so good. I mean, we already sound awesome, but they make it just perfect. I feel like I would go out and buy ten copies of the album when it gets out.”

Rose chuckled. “Really? That’s great to hear. I remember with the Petal Pushers, I could’ve spent hours in production, tweaking everything until it was just right. That’s why it almost took us two years to release our debut.”

“Two years?” Luke sat back, letting it sink in.

“I was a bit of a perfectionist; the rest of my band wasn’t so patient. I don’t mind though, I had other things to put my time into.” She gazed fondly at Julie, who looked back with a similar fondness, if not slightly clouded.

She wasn’t responding to treatment anymore. It had just become official last week and Julie wasn’t ready to break the news to Luke or anyone else. There wasn’t anything she could think of that would make it easier, no matter how much she knew she needed to let them know. It just seemed like everyone else was doing so well: the guys were finally moving on up, Flynn was coming out with her own music, and even she had barely finished a successful tour. But this was more than just a wrench in the gears.

In the middle of cutting out a heart, she was too lost in thought and snipped on the end of her thumb.

“Ow!” she cried, immediately sucking on it. “Do we have band aids in here?”

“Oh, sweetie,” her mom said fretfully. “I can’t remember where they are, but let me call the nurse.” She pressed a button on the remote beside her bed. Luke tried to get a look at the cut, but Julie insisted on sucking on it.

Moments later, the same woman Julie had seen before entered the room. Her hair was in a braid today, and Julie tried to smile at the sight while her thumb remained in her mouth.

“Hey, Rose, what’s up?” she asked, appearing surprised to have gotten a call.

“Sorry this isn’t a big emergency,” Rose apologized. “My daughter just cut her thumb and I can’t remember where you put the bandages.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got you,” the nurse said, going to a cabinet and pulling out supplies to bandage Julie’s thumb. “Here, let me see it.”

Finally releasing it, Julie held her hand out and let the nurse sit down and get to work cleaning and wrapping it.

“What are we working on here?” the nurse wondered aloud, looking at the table of craft supplies.

“We’re putting together a scrapbook,” Julie told her, knowing she was using the conversation to distract her from the pain. “You know, so we don’t forget the good things.” She got a knowing look from the nurse. Her eyes were soft and full of understanding, and Julie offered her a little smile. “I know I’ve seen you before, but what was your name?”

“It’s Renee,” the nurse said. “I was just realizing that I never properly introduced myself, either.” Closing the band aid around Julie’s finger, she patted her hand and stood up.

“Well, it’s good to see you again. This is Luke, by the way.” Julie pointed toward where he was simply watching them, slightly spaced out. He blinked for a minute before smiling at Renee and nodding.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Renee smiled demurely. “Oh, well, I certainly aim for that at the end of the day.”

Luke could only respond with his dorky grin.

“Luke, here, is a musician like Julie,” Rose piped in.

“Is that right?” Renee replied, raising her eyebrows in interest. “Your family seems to attract the most talented company.”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely talented,” Luke said. “But Julie’s the real wrecking ball. It doesn’t surprise me she got to touring before me and my band.”

She rolled her eyes, but Julie enjoyed the compliment. That was pretty modest for him when it came to music.

“Yes, I remember mentioning my niece is a big fan. I have to refrain from telling her you’re related to Rose, otherwise she would ask for a lot of favors.”

“Oh, how old is your niece?” Julie asked.

“She’s thirteen,” Renee said, leaning on her hand. “Just started middle school.”

“Oh, middle school is rough,” Luke murmured.

“She’s definitely having a rough time,” Renee said to all three of them. “But I think your music has made a difference. Her mom might buy her keyboard for Christmas.”

Julie looked back at Luke, who was already beaming at her, and knew what he would say. He didn’t have to, but she could hear his mantra about the importance of music echo in her brain: it’s about connecting with people, making a difference in their day. She turned back to Renee, whose pager was beeping and made her turn to leave.

“Thanks for the bandage, and of course being there for us,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Glad I could see you, too, Julie.”

“I’ll see you later, Renee,” Rose rasped as she disappeared.

“She seems pretty cool,” Luke said, picking up the music note he was still trying to cut out.

“Yeah, I like her,” Julie told him. “She gave me some good advice.”

“I know she kept talking about her niece, but I think you have another big fan,” Rose said.

“Maybe,” Julie shrugged, trying to focus again on the scrapbook.

As she and Luke left the hospital, Julie had to steal a long glance at her mom, now fast asleep. She had to remember the good things, but there were so many questions she felt like she had to answer. Now that she was off tour and back in school, it was only a matter of time before she had to return to the studio. Once that happened, visits like this would be nearly impossible. She felt a hand slip into hers and fingers interlocking, and she looked up at Luke gently nodding at her to move onward. His puppy-like eyes gave her enough courage to go.

“So how long do you have to be in the studio today?” she asked him, forcing her mind to switch gears.

“Uh...till about seven,” Luke said. “We’re mostly working on Lakeside Reflection today.”

“Aww, I love that one,” she melted into his side as they stepped into the elevator.

“I know you do,” he chuckled softly. She continued leaning on him, feeling his thumb rub over the top of her hand like a lullaby. They remained silent the rest of the way down, just enjoying each other’s company. Julie loved Luke’s calm, quiet moments where he didn’t need to use words. Like the way he used music to speak his mind, he could also communicate with the way he held her. He offered the best comfort. Stepping out of the elevator and to the front of the hospital, Julie saw Bobby’s van already waiting.

“Do you need a ride?” Luke asked.

She shook her head. “No, my tía is taking me and Carlos to see a movie. She’ll be here any minute.”

Forever a pleading look in his eyes when they said goodbye, she shook her head and rolled her eyes at him before he could suggest she change her plans. It happened so often now that she’d had to learn how to say no, no matter how hard it was sometimes.

“Okay, fine,” Luke said, the silent argument over. One hand grabbed onto her head as he planted a kiss on her forehead, letting the other slowly slip out of her fingers as he went to climb into the van. Julie waved at all the guys inside as Bobby took off before looking back down at her bandaged thumb. She still couldn’t tell them about her mom.

Tapping his fingers on the seat, Alex nervously fought to decide if he could break the news to Luke and Bobby. Reggie peeked back, giving him an uncertain glance. They hadn’t exactly discussed it or practiced what they’d say to them, but the clock was ticking. Luke and Bobby needed to know what Caleb was really like now. For some odd reason, Alex’s tongue remained on lock for the whole ride, and it seemed to plague Reggie, too. He felt his muscles twitch as they pulled into the parking lot at the studio. Listening to the squeak of Bobby’s brakes, inertia let them all lightly lurch forward before coming to a full stop.

“Guess who me and Reggie ran into last night?” Alex cried out, almost reflexively. All the guys turned back at him.

“Who?” Bobby prompted.

“Willie.”

The two of them stared at him, stunned, as Reggie took in a deep breath. It was hard to tell whether it was relief or something else.

“Reggie, is he okay?” Bobby asked him.

“Actually, yes he is,” Reggie stated solemnly. “I saw Willie too. He’s here in LA.”

Bobby looked at Luke.

“Caleb said he died. There’s no way he could be here.”

“Well, he is,” Alex said firmly. “Flynn can prove it too, we ran into her as well.”

“Alright, that’s good news, but why are you guys telling us now?” Luke queried.

“Because he knows things about Caleb,” Alex said. “Really bad things.”

Luke and Bobby both blinked and then looked at each other. Alex shot a glance over at the door to the studio. He was already afraid to enter. Caleb wasn’t always there, but he always arrived unpredictably.

“Like what things?” Luke asked.

Later that evening, all the guys sat in the garage where they usually practiced. Luke was lying on the couch, despondent as he gazed at the ceiling. Bobby was sprawled on the floor while Reggie had lain sideways across the armchair. Alex paced, occasionally running his hand through his hair.

“Anyone else never want to set foot inside that studio again?” Reggie offered cheerlessly.

“We can’t just quit making a record,” Luke contested.

“Maybe we wouldn’t feel like we want to if we hadn’t jumped the gun and just signed onto the first place that wanted us,” Bobby said. Luke sat up, clearly bothered by those words.

“Dude, what are you saying?”

“Caleb’s a creep,” Reggie supplied. “I don’t know what his game is, but if what Willie says is true, then working with him is a major no go.”

“If?” Alex retorted, stopping to target Reggie. “If we’re gonna trust anyone between the two of them, I would trust Willie. He’s not the one killing people for convenience.”

“Hey,” Bobby interrupted. “You can defend him all you want. We’re not saying we don’t trust him.”

Alex took back to pacing again. Sighing heavily, Luke sat upright on the couch.

“So what, do we just give up?” he demanded. “We didn’t work so hard to get this far just to drop our dream over one shady guy. I mean, what else could he possibly want with us?”

“Look, I don’t know,” Alex said. “But what if it’s not just about us. I mean, thanks to Caleb, Willie can barely remember who he is.” The guys fell silent and serious as that reality sank in. “I mean, he’s not the only one that Caleb has messed with for years, manipulating them into working under him and giving up almost all of their control. Maybe he doesn’t need to get foster kids for it anymore. What if we’re next?”

“So what should we do?” Bobby wondered. “Break the contract and risk losing the rights to all the work we’ve been doing?”

He had a point. Joining Luke on the couch, Alex rested his face in his hands, feeling the frustration seethe out of him.

“No, guys, we need to think about this,” Luke began saying. “I know this is messed up, but I also know that backing out isn’t the right answer. And I know I’m usually not the one to say this stuff but...we need to be careful.”

[breanime]

How do the boys react to reader getting home late and not answering their calls because she lost her phone!?

Billy Russo: The fear and anxiety he feels translate directly to anger. He’s pacing the room when you come home, and your confused, innocent expression just pisses him off more. He starts an argument immediately, accusing you of being careless and forgetful. He was worried about you, but instead of saying that, he just argues with you... until you huff and say you’re going to spend the night at your friend’s house since he’s being an ass, and then he switches tactics. He races over to you and crushes you to his chest in a hug. “You’re so frustrating,” he sighs into your hair, “Just... Let’s go to bed, and tomorrow we’ll go get you a new phone...and an Apple watch...and maybe a pager too, just to be safe.” *cue make up sex*

Logan Delos: His mind immediately goes tot he worst. He’s spiraling out, eyes wide and chest pounding, thinking of all of the horrible things that could happen to you, wondering if you were ignoring his calls because you found someone else, someone better... So when you walk through the door, sighing and complaining about your shitty day, he’d run up to you, cup your face in his hands, and kiss you, taking your breath away. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you,” he’d ask, hating how insecure and panicked he sounded. But when you explained, sitting on his lap on the couch, he’d calm down. The next thing you knew, Logan was pulling out his laptop and ordering you all kinds of new gadgets that you hadn’t even heard of. 

Jax Teller: Jax puts the prospects on the case, sending them out with strict instructions not to set foot in the clubhouse again until they found you. They found you in town, shopping, and they called Jax and told him that you’d lost your phone. Less than 15 minutes later, Jax was pulling up beside you on the street on his bike. Grinning, he held out his helmet to you. “Hop on, darlin’,” he says, “We’re getting you a new phone.” Jax takes you to a local electronics shop and buys you a new phone. He also gets you a burner phone because he assumes you’ll have to use it at some point in the future lol. 

Coco Cruz: He was already feeling anxious when you didn’t answer his calls or respond to his texts, but as the day went on and he didn’t hear from you, his anxiety was getting worse and worse. He’d snapped at Chucky, been mouthy with Bish, and almost got into a fist fight with one of Miguel’s guys, and so Bishop had told Angel to take Coco for some air before he (Bishop) shot him (Coco) in the foot. So Angel, Coco, Gilly, and EZ went for a ride--partly to calm Coco, and partly to look for you. When they didn’t find you, Coco went back to the clubhouse and broke a few tables and chairs. He’s still keyed up when you walk through the door, and he yells at you. Thankfully, you stay calm and your gentle explanation calms him too. Coco hugs you to him for about 10 minutes then, before pulling back and growling “we’re getting you a new fucking phone right now, querida”

Angel Reyes: Angel knows you, and he knows this isn’t like you, so he’s immediately on guard. Living the kind of life he lives, he’s instantly afraid that something bad has happened to you. You always respond to his calls, and it’s getting late now... EZ, Coco, Gilly, and Felipe go out to find you, and Angel--on his father’s suggestions--stays home to wait for you. It’s hard for him, and when he hears your car pulling up out front, he’s outside and opening your door for you before you even turn your car off. The first thing he does is ask if you’re okay and checks to see if you’re hurt--which you’re not. Once that’s established, he’s glaring down at you, angrily telling you how worried he was and how much he loves you. Then he’s taking you to bed, and it isn’t until you’re both lying on your backs, grinning up at the ceiling that he realizes...he never told the guys that he found you. 

Miguel Galindo: Miguel doesn’t even give you the chance to come home late. He has his men out and about looking for you, Dita at home in case you come back, and he and Nestor are out in the streets, too. He’s worried as hell--in his line of work, there are so many threats and so much potential danger, and you know that. He knows that you wouldn’t ignore him or field his calls, so there’s something that is preventing you from calling him back, and that terrifies Miguel. But when he finds you--safe and sound--he finally allows himself to breathe. He holds you close, whispering into your hair how concerned he had been. He doesn’t want to scare you, but his mind is still racing, thinking back on all of the horrible things that could have happened to you. And that’s the last day you go ANYWHERE without some kind of escort. 

Nick Amaro: Nick is the human embodiment of anger and anxiety, and he goes into overdrive when he doesn’t hear back from you. Being a SVU detective, his mind circles back to some of the incredibly terrible crimes he’s seen on the job, and he’s nearly shaking with fear for you. This isn’t like you, and so he reaches out to the squad. Liv drives him around the city, going to some of your favorite places in search of you, while Carisi, Rawlins, and Fin canvas other areas. Cragen even reaches out to a few of his contacts, and it’s through him that Nick finds you downtown, trying to purchase a new phone. He’s out of the car and running over to you before Olivia can even finish parking, and as soon as he’s close to you, Nick pulls you to him. You try to explain what happened, even pointing out that you were in the middle of fixing it, but all Nick wants is to hold you--so you let him. 

Johnny Tuturro: “You seen Y/N?” He asks everyone in the house a good 10 times. Johnny can’t sit down. He paces, he works out, he goes running (and looking for you), he bounces on Mike’s bed... He can’t stop moving. He’s trying not to come off as an overly protective, paranoid boyfriend, but it’s getting late and he hasn’t heard from you... Eventually, Charlie makes Mike and Paige play football with him on the beach while she goes out looking for you... You actually stumble upon the trio as you’re walking home. Johnny is so happy to see you, he tackles you to the sand. He’s still on top of you as you explain that your phone broke and you lost your wallet, so you had to walk home... So then he picks you up and carries you inside for a ‘Johnny Tuturro Spa Night’ where he pampers you, gives you a foot massage, and gets out a map of the city and shows you all of the places that have phone booths...for future reference. 

Rio: This dramatic king... He’s sitting in the dark in the living room when you get home. After you missed his third call, Rio tracked you down and found you having dinner with some guy. So he went home, that cold, cool anger right in the center of his chest, and waited. “Jesus, Rio,” you gasped when you turned on the light, “what the hell are you doing?” “Yeah, you know, I was gonna ask you the same thing... Had a good meal? You enjoy yourself?” He asks back, his hands clasped in his lap as he glares over at you. You quickly explain to him that it was a business dinner, and he’s almost ready to believe you, but... “Why didn’t you answer my calls? Your job more important than me, mama?” At that, you walk over to him and dump the contents of your purse on your lap. It doesn’t take him long to see that... “Where’s your phone?” Once he gets all the details and learns that, yes, is was a business meeting, and you lost your phone, that knot in his chest loosens. He stands up and holds you, apologizing for thinking the worst, and promises to get you a new phone before lovingly taking you to bed. When you wake up in his arms, you see a box on your nightstand with a red bow on it, and you know that he’s already replaced your phone. 

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also, who’s gonna write an elaboration on Rio for me?...

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25​  @mrsjaxtellerfan​  @rhabakoli​  @encounterthepast​ @realduckvader​   @justvnash​ @knowles-morgan  @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19  @nyxxnoxx​ @carlaangel86  @luminex3 @jigsawlover10  @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart  @lexxierave @crushed-pink-petals @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams  @a-dorky-book-keeper​ @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @nich0lasmatthews  @ben-c-group-therapy​

[briefololtragedy]

Bleed for me

Pairing: ShiSaku

Rating: M (for violence)

Summary: Shisui didn’t like people touching what was his

for day 3 of shiSaku weekend: Yakuza AU, obsession, You’re mine and only mine @shisakuweek

Also posted on AO3

A pale child laid in a hospital bed. Their skin almost blending into the stark white sheets that encased the bed. A man and woman sat beside the bed holding onto the child’s hand. Tears could be seen streaming down their faces. They spoke sweet nothings into her ear. The young girl could not hear what they were saying. It was hard to distinguish the small fragile body of the girl from the lines going to and from her. She was almost more machine than human at this point.

The click clack of heels could be heard nearing the door. A gentle knock took the couples attention from their child to the woman now in the room.

“Mr and Mrs. Sato, I’m Doctor Sakura Haruno and here to talk to you about Rin.” The married couple grasped onto each other. They stared at the woman before them, waiting on bated breath for good news.

“I am one of the transplant doctors who specialize in pediatric cardiothoracic surgery. Do you mind if I sit as we talk about Ms. Rin?” A gentle smile made its way onto Dr. Haruno’s face as the couple nodded their heads yes.

“As you know Rin was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome. She has undergone the three stages of repair for her condition, but has now developed complications from not having a 4 chambered heart.” Sakura paused giving time for the parents to process. She always hated these conversations. She glanced at the child laying in the bed. It was likely that good news would not come to this family.

“She has started to develop heart failure in combination with protein losing enteropathy, PLE, as we call it. We do not know the exact reason why some children who have undergone the second or third stage of repair develop this condition. There are some experimental procedures that some surgery centers have tried with little improvement in the patient's condition.” Another pause.

“We are currently pumping the blood through her body artificially with the machine you see. I know when Rin was placed on this they told you what it entails. Her heart is no longer strong enough to function. The machine is giving her lungs a break as well. Right now the best chance Rin has is a heart transplant. She will be near the top of the list in her current state. However, I want you to prepare for the worst case scenario. I am not sure when there will be a donor who matches Rin’s needs…” The words faded into the background for the couple as the sobs overtook them. The doctor placed a hand on the wife’s back rubbing soothing circles. She hoped for a miracle, but life was a cruel bitch.

_______________________________-

The doctor from before was sitting at a bar stool, her petal pink hair cascading down her back. She took a swig of the beer in her hand wanting to erase the day she had. She was dressed to kill with a body hugging backless dress. It was wine red in color, accentuating her alabaster skin. Her green eyes shined like emeralds.

She felt a calloused hands caress her back causing her muscles to twitch. She could smell the alcohol on the individual's breath.

“Aint you a pretty little thing. Let me buy you a drink and you can repay me later.” She had to roll her eyes.

“Beat it. I’m not interested.” She didn’t even bother looking at the man.

“Come on pinky. I can rock your world. You look like you need something stiff.” His laugh grated on her nerves. When he wouldn’t leave her alone, she got up and started to leave. The oaf of a man couldn’t take the hint and grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. She wanted to hurl fron the stench.

“You smell good pinky.” He was starting to rub his nose in her neck. Before she could send her elbow to the man’s skull he was already falling to the ground.

“Ahh!” The drunken idiot now had a foot crushing the bones in his hand. Sakura could hear the crunch of bone from where she was.

“I think the lady told you she wasn’t interested.” A rich baritone voice spoke.

“Oh you just want the bitch for yourself. Find your own. I saw this one first.” The man before her applied more force through his foot, causing the man below him to groan in agony.

“I think it would be best if you leave before something unsightly happens to you.” Sakura knew the man’s fate was dealt the moment he touched her. Sakura already saw a few men in the corner start to move. Once the drunk was up and moving to the exit, he was being followed.

“Was that really necessary, Shisui?” Sakura took the martini from him and started to sip it slowly. She melted when he wrapped his right arm around her. He brought his index finger to her chin and traced her bone structure. Shisui stopped once he was under her chin and turned her face to look at him.

“He was touching what was mine. Don’t forget you’re mine and only mine.” Shisui then sealed their lips together with a kiss.

“Hmm don’t forget you are mine as well.” Shisui smirked. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Shisui would do anything for her. _______________________________

Shisui sat in his leather chair listening to his lackeys talk about different shipments. He really didn’t care at the moment. Sakura was upset about one of her patients. While she told him most things, she always kept her work at arms length from him. Well she tried to for the most part.

When Itachi entered the room Shisui found his back straightening. The glint in Itachi’s eye told Shisui that he was successful in his mission.

“You three leave now.” The three scattered out the door faster than cockroaches clearing ,when a light was turned on. The two waited for the door to close before speaking.

“It appears Sakura has a patient who recently went on the heart transplant list. It's a young girl 8-9 years of age. She has two younger siblings. Mother is an elementary school teacher and father works for a bank. He is a low level teller. The nurses were saying how they don’t think a match will come in on time. Parents are preparing for the worse.”

Shisui leaned onto his clasped hands. “Did you get her blood type and cross matching?”

Itachi smirked and held up a file. “Of course I did. I also tracked down some of the regulars at that bar the two of you go to. I found one who is a match.”

This was just all too perfect.

“You know what to do. Sakura and I will be meeting there for drinks tonight.” Shisui got up from his desk and grabbed his jacket. He was going to kill two birds with one stone. Rid the world of a lowly excuse for a human being and make Sakura happy.

___________________________________________

Shisui had gotten to the bar early to make sure he was sitting in a dark corner. He watched the man go to the bar and order his drink. The bartender glanced his way and Shisui gave a nod. The guy was too busy talking with his friends to see the purple liquid get added to his drink. In just 30-60 minutes the man would lose all inhibitions and fall into the trap.

Itachi was stationed with two others around the bar. The moment Sakura walked into the bar Shisui’s breath escaped his lungs. He could never figure out how she looked so ethereal.

_________________________________________

Sakura snuggled to the man next to her. She buried her nose into his chest. He smelled of sandalwood.

“Hmm where did you go after we got home?” Sakura mumbled as she talked to him. Before he could answer her pager went off. Sakura jumped out of bed and grabbed her phone.

Soon she was kissing Shisui and rushing to get dressed. Shisui just leaned back in their shared bed. Thinking of earlier.

The blade ran up and down the man’s skin. Shisui made sure not to apply enough pressure to cut into the epidermis, at least not yet. The man’s arms and legs were bound to the table immobilizing him.

“Do you know why you are here...What’s your name again?” The man was a sobbing mess.

“K..Ken. Please I have a family.” Anger boiled in Shisui’s veins. He grabbed Ken’s chin, squeezing hard.

“You have a family? Do they know you were at a bar trying to force yourself on women?”

“I’ve never.” A forceful sob caused Ken’s body to jerk violently. Shisui squeezed harder on the man’s jaw. He could feel the bones give under his grip, with a flick of the wrist he jaw gave way.

“What were you doing tonight then? Touching what is mine.” Shisui knew he was not going to get an answer due to the dislocated jaw in his hand.

“Don’t worry your life will mean something once it is ended.” Shisui took his other hand and dug the knife at the base of Ken’s skull. He had read enough of Sakura’s medical textbooks to know the right place to hit to render someone brain dead. Ken would still have his brainstem functions allowing his heart to beat long enough for it to live in another.

In the corner sat Kabuto. While Shisui didn’t agree with his politics, he knew the man could keep a secret. Kabuto also knew better than to cross Shisui. Shisui would not waste any time adding more bodies to the bottom of the ocean.

“You know your part?” Shisui cleaned off his blade.

“Yes. I will take this man to the OR after declaring him brain dead. The nurses will find his organ donor card and alert the transplant team.”

“What are you waiting for? Go.” Shisui wanted to go back home and crawl into his bed. He knew his slumber was going to get distrubed in a few hours with the page Sakura was going to get.

Sakura was running around their bedroom grabbing the nearest article of clothing to dress in. Shisui threw the covers off his body and followed her.

“What are you doing?” Shisui just raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take you to work so you can rest on the way there. I don’t have work in the morning so I can stay to drive you home.” Shisui melted when he saw her smile. He soon felt arms around his neck and a soft kiss.

“You’re amazing. I can never get over how kind of a husband I have.” Shisui just rested his head on hers before hurrying her to the car.

_____________________________________

He was pacing back and forth. He could see a couple with two young children sitting in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Sakura had been in the OR for over 5 hours now. He was lucky she let him sleep in her office, but he was restless. Multiple what if questions ran through his brain. Shisui started chewing on his thumb nail. He ignored the pointed looks from the staff and visitors who passed him.

Shisui propped himself on the wall. He wanted a view of the OR doors when they opened. After another hour or two, the doors finally opened. Sakura’s hair was tucked under her scrub cap and part of her face obscured by her surgical mask, but she still looked stunning. As he watched her walk over to the family Shisui knew it was all worth it.

It just wasn’t tonight that was worth it. He thought back to when he first met his wife. She was a struggling medical student who his little cousin brought over to stitch him up. Shisui was ensnared in her beauty at that moment. She didn’t bat an eyelash when he cursed at her due to the pain. Sakura didn’t care who he was or how he would be taking the mantle of the Yakuza head.

Shisui spent months planning on how he would bump into her. He memorized her schedule, followed her some nights. She became his obsession. His life was consumed by her. He felt like a nervous fool asking her out the first time. They fell into a comfortable rhythm after that. She was always by his side. Shisui found that they shared a lot of the same ideals.

“Shisui did you get any sleep?” Her hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts.

“I got some. Let’s get you home. Was the surgery successful?” He held her close as they walked back to her office.

“It was. Thank you.” Her head rested on his shoulder as they walked.

“No need to thank me.” Shisui found himself against her office wall as she devoured him.

“Without you there would have been no surgery tonight. So thank you. You got Kabuto to help didn’t you?” Well hearing that rat's name killed the mood.

“You said you didn’t want to be involved anymore.” They stood in her office embracing.

“You know it’s best for me to not be involved. Let’s get back home to Hiroyuki, he’ll be missing us.” Sakura was right. Their son would be missing them.

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Petals (Pt2) (Lucifer Morningstar)

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader (Hanahaki Disease AU) Words: 1k+ Warning(s): some angst, tooth achin fluff A/N: Here we are, part 2 of Petals. I originally wasn’t going to write a second part bc sometimes i am a sucker for angst but this was fun to write :) Part One: Petals

--------

Your eyelods felt extremely heavy as you slowly came to. You couldn't quite open them; only just enough to react to the little light you saw. You heard a consistent and incessant beeping to your right, making you groan in annoyance...

"(Y/N)...?" You heard your name spoken softly to your right. "Are-Are you awake?" They sounded familiar... You let your head roll to the left and opened your eyes more. You could make out a silhouette but you blurry vision thankfully cleared away as you tried your hardest to see who you was with you.

Lucifer Morningstar.

Light filtered in around him, making him seem almost angelic. How humourous.

"Lucifer..." You mumbled gaining more of your vision back. You saw his dark eyes look at you with concern as he leaned closer to you.

"I am right here darling." His voice was uncommonly gentle. "I am right here."

"What happened?"

Lucifer opened his mouth to reply but there was a knock at the door that interrupted him. A doctor came in and stood to the side opposite of Lucifer.

"Glad to see you are awake, I am Dr. Maar." He smiled and flipped through the paper on his clipboard. "I am sure you are aware of Hanahaki Disease?"

You nodded, but Lucifer spoke up "I'm not. Can you explain this disease?" Your eyes widened at the fact Lucifer will learn about the key cause of the flower growing inside you.

"Well Mr. Morningstar, it is a case of one-sided love. It causes a plant to grow thoughout the chest cavity unless cured or removed. (Y/N) here was lucky enough to get here in time when they did. The flower was at the point of killing them. And your friend Ella made sure to let the paramedics know about your wishes."

"Well there is a cure right? Or a removal processes?" Lucifer asked with a worry tone.

"Luci-" You gasped and coughed up a few petals.

"Well, theres the removal and the cure is simple: the person they love returns their feelings." Your doctor looked to his pager. "I need to leave, a nurse needs me. Please don't be hesitant to ask for help." The man smiled and promptly left the room.

It was silent in the room, a heavy silence. You weren't sure what to say now that Lucifer fully knows the extent of the sickness you have. You were sure he was going to ask who it was, you felt your heart clutch with anxiety.

"Why don't you have it removed?" Lucifer asked gently.

"Because I don't want to." Your voice was scratchy and it felt rough to speak.

"If it can save your life-"

"If I get it removed then it takes away emotions, all of them. I don't want that."

"Then confess to the person. You're a lovely human, I am sure they return your feelings."

You stayed silent.

"Please, (Y/N). I- I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to die-"

You moved your hand towards his, wrapping your fingers around his hand. You stared at him, hoping he would get what you were implying. You feel your eyes start to burn as tears filled them up.

"(Y/N)...." He simply muttered your name. The tears began to leak out of your glossy (e/c) eyes. You felt your body jerk as sobs escaped your lips. You knew he wouldn't reciprocate. You knew you would be dying alone.

Suddenly, Lucifers soft lips were pressed against yours. You cried harder into the kiss, squeezing his hand tight as you reciprocated. He placed his free hand on your jaw, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away your tears. He parted away from you slowly, his eyes slowly opening to look at you.

"Is this what you wanted to say at the police department before you collapsed?"

"... Yes." You gulped, your throat feeling better than it did moments before. "I didn't expect you to return the same sentiment to be honest. You are so close with Chloe and always talking about her I thought..."

"Because she makes me mortal dear. I am in the process of figuring it out but her presence intrigues me in a purely platonic way." He lightly squeezes your hand, his free hand was resting on your thigh. "I... I'm not good with processing and admitting my feelings, well that's what Linda says, but you are very dear to me, (Y/N). And I am sorry it took this," He then picked up the petals you coughed up earlier, "this flower to make me fully realize that I love you."

"I love you too." You pulled him close, he enveloped you into a warm, safe hug. You felt your body began to slowly heal itself. Your once raw throat started to feel soothed, the thorns poking at your organs and muscles seemed to slowly draw back. The plant was dying, and your love was returned...

-----

Seeing that Lucifer reciprocated you feelings, the deadly plant started to wither. You weren't going to be 100% back to normal but you were healing, and you had Lucifer Mornigstar by your side. The hospital released you that afternoon after seeing the improvements to your health. Lucifer insisted he take you home and insisted he stay with you for awhile; not that you didn't mind.

He had yours and his arms linked as you made your way to your apartment,  worried that you would suddenly collapse again. You reached your door and you were about to unlock it but Luci somehow had your keys in his hand

"I can walk fine you know." You rolled your eyes with a smile.

"I know but just in case. It also gives me an excuse to keep you close." He smirked devishly, unlocking your door.You both walked in, although he stayed at the now closed door.  You watched as he scanned your apartment, taking in every detail he could.

"It isn't a penthouse about an infamous nightclub, I know but-"

"It feels like you. I like it." He approached you slowly, placing his hands on your waist. "You are amazing and don't think for a second you aren't."

"You are too, Lucifer. I love you so much that it grew a stupid plant inside me. You are so much more than what your Father tried to define you as."

He then smiled, a smile of pure relief and happiness. He leaned forward and gave you a purely loving kiss, one that he or you would ever forget.

[ghostlywritten]

Petals

Words: 4k+

Hanahaki AU!

You tilted your head back to let the sun rays shine on your face, smiling at the slight breeze that passed by, ruffling your hair. The air smelled of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass and it just confirmed to you once again that spring was and would forever be your favourite season. 

“Are you going to keep standing there like a doofus or get in the car eventually?” a low, smooth voice calmly broke through your serene bubble and you opened your eyes to see Yoongi standing a few feet away, already turned towards his car parked in the lot. 

“I’m coming, jeez. What’s the rush?” you asked teasingly, bouncing towards him and ignoring the slight ache in your body that caused you to wince.

Yoongi’s eyes widened, “Careful, Y/N! You are going to hurt yourself!” 

“I’m fine,” you insisted, rolling your eyes slightly at his over-protective nature as he shot you an uncertain look that made you squirm. 

“You always say that even if it’s not true,” he replied, “I’m not going to be fooled anymore.”

Your smile faltered and you glanced away as guilt creeped up in you again. The older boy turned to head towards the car silently and you sighed at the now gloomy atmosphere. 

Settling down in the passenger seat, you buckled up before biting your lip. “...”

This time, Yoongi sighed, “Come on. Keep that smile up. You don’t wanna worry the boys more than you already have now, do you?”

“No...of course not,” you mumbled, glancing out the window. You had known you would have to face the consequences eventually when you kept such a big matter to yourself for so long. The thought of facing your friends made your throat dry like a Sahara and you coughed slightly as you tried to swallow.

Yoongi immediately shot you an alarmed look and you sighed once again, mustering up the courage to put a hand on his arm. It had been him, who had found you lying unconscious on the floor of your apartment and you knew it had shocked him greatly. You couldn’t blame him for being cross with you ever since and just silently hoped he would forgive you someday. He was your best friend after all, the big brother you never had. 

“I’m fine, Yoongi,” you reassured, smiling genuinely, “For real now. It’s over.”

He nodded mutely, turning up the car and driving out of the parking lot. Glancing back, you silently bid goodbye to the hospital that had been your host for five weeks.

“Do you remember anything yet?” Yoongi asked.

“About the boy?” you asked back.

“About Jimin,” he stressed as if the mere name would trigger something in your mind. 

You silently recalled the encounter with the light-haired boy immediately after you woke up for the first time, surrounded by a white ceiling, white tiles and white bed sheets.

Waking up, you groaned at the ache in your limbs, eyes and head weighing a ton. It felt like you had slept for a lifetime and yet you had never felt more tired, more drained before. A hand squeezed yours and you forced your eyes open, immediately closing them again as the bright light hit them painfully. 

“Y/N?” A broken voice called out to you slightly and you tilted your head towards it, mustering up the strength to pull your eyelids apart once again. What you saw was what you felt like; a boy, slouched in his seat with red, swollen eyes, dry and bitten lips and messed up hair. ‘Who are you?’ you thought, but nothing came out as you opened your mouth to ask out loud.

HIs eyes widened and he immediately rushed out to call a doctor, coming back in with several others. You recognised Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok but furrowed your eyebrows at their dishevelled features, dark circled under each of their eyes noticeable. 

“Y/N, you are awake!” Hoseok yelped, bouncing over in joy and tightly wrapping his arms around you.

You smiled, your dry lips cracking slightly and causing you to wince.

“Let her breathe, Hoseok. She’s still fragile,” Yoongi reprimanded him as he walked up as well, giving you a once over. 

“Ms. L/N. It’s nice to see you awake,” the doctor announced his presence as he entered the room, giving all of you a warm smile. He calmly stepped up towards the foot of the bed, clipboard in hand and surveying whatever was written on it, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you croaked out, trying to clear your throat. The boy holding your hand rushed to fill a cup of water, silently placing the lid against your lip. You complied, eagerly drinking up but still shot him a confused look. Really, who was he?

“That’s natural. Your body has gone through quite a turmoil,” the doctor replied gently, “Do you remember what happened? Why you are here?”

You wracked your brain, fighting through the fogginess in your brain, “I...I’m not sure. Last thing I remember is staying in the kitchen of my home.”

The doctor nodded, “It’s alright. You might feel a little disoriented right now but you will remember the details eventually. For now, you should know that you’ve gone through an operation for the removal of the hanahaki curse.”

Your eyes widened at that. You had the curse?

“You had come up previously for an appointment and we had made up a date for the operation as well but unfortunately you were hit hard with the symptoms and you fell unconscious. We were forced to proceed immediately.

But, the good news: The operation was successful, and you will heal without any lasting damages.”

Your head swam with the flood of information and you closed your eyes rolled back as a wave of dizziness hit you.

“Y/N? Y/N! Doctor, what’s happening?” the boy to your right asked, panic rising in his voice and your forced your eyes back open to watch him. His deep brown eyes were set on you with worry, anxiety scarring his handsome features.

“She’s going to need a lot of rest,” the doctor said solemnly, “The aftermath can range from dizziness, tiredness to nausea. We will keep you for a few weeks to monitor your health progress, Ms. L/N. You might be able to leave if we see you to be fit.”

Something beeped and he pulled out a pager from the front pockets of his white coat, “I must take my leave. A nurse will come by to check on your vitals in a few minutes and I will come by in the evening once more. For now, you should rest up.” He departed with a comforting smile and you tried to reciprocate it weakly.

Silence momentarily filled the room as you tried to process all the information. It felt like a fog was surrounding your brain and your mind was trying to fight against it, but it only resulted in you feeling increasingly more tired. 

“You’ve really done it this time,” Yoongi spoke up, anger in his voice, “Really. I can’t imagine a more stupid way to go about this than you have.”

“Hyung, now now-,” Namjoon tired.

“You should have told us!” the elder burst out, his usually calm demeanour gone, “Just what were you thinking, keeping this from us? Do you even realise what you’ve done? What could have happened?”

“I...,” you tried to speak up this time but he wasn’t done, fury lacing his features yet he never raised his voice even the slightest bit, which somehow made it worse, “Do you know what a shock it was to find you lying in your blood for who knows how long?” he almost whispered and your chest constricted at the broken look in his eyes, “You could have died, Y/N!” 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You were still trying to wrap your mind around everything, but you could already guess from the puzzle pieces so far that something had went severely off plan. 

“You’re sorry,” he scoffed.

“Hyung,” the boy next to you spoke up now, a warning undertone in his voice, “Not now. Please.” Yoongi took a long look at his pleading gaze before muttering something under his breath and walking out of the room, leaving you to watch after him with a broken heart. 

“He will come around,” Hoseok reassured you, running his fingers through your hair calmingly, “Don’t worry. He was just very scared.”

“We all were,” Namjoon said solemnly before stepping out, muttering something about calling up the other boys. 

“He will come around, too,” Hoseok added with his smile wavering slightly and you could tell he was trying to hold back a resigned sigh. Breathing in deeply, you tried to keep your eyes open long enough for your mind to form a list of all the questions whirling around in your head. 

“You should rest up,” the boy next to you said softly, his thumb gracing the back of your hand as he gazed at you tenderly. You nodded sleepily but couldn’t help but regard him curiously. He had been here the entire time holding your hand since you woke up and possibly even whilst you were unconscious as well. It appeared that you were close to him, yet your brain still had to register him as a friend or even acquaintance, someone that you had at least seen once before. 

“Who are you?” the question slipped out just as you fell asleep, causing the room to freeze with a heart ceasing to stop for a minute as it broke into pieces.

“No,” you sighed, “I don’t.”

Yoongi pursed his lips slightly but let the topic go, knowing it wasn’t easy for you. 

Arriving in front of their apartment, you sat still whilst Yoongi parked the car, feeling slightly anxious for some reason. You had seen all the boys as they had visited you all the time in the hospital but being out now was different. 

They had been treading lightly around you, being caring and careful as they fussed over you but you couldn’t help but wonder what would change now; you knew the group dynamics with you would never be the same anymore. Not when they knew that you had been in love with one of them to the point that it had made you physically ill. 

And not telling them probably didn’t make it better.

“Come on, the brats are waiting,” Yoongi beckoned you to follow him out of the car and into the apartment. 

As soon as you got in, you were ambushed by several arms trying to wrap around you, ‘welcomes’ screamed into your ear, mostly by Taehyung and Hoseok. You laughed, happiness blooming in your chest at their warmth. Jin immediately battled them off, fussing over you and your thin form, “Have they given you anything to eat at all? I’m going to sue the entire hospital! But first, let’s get something actually edible into your stomach, come on!” 

He led you towards the sofa in the living, the others minus one crowding around you and chatting up a storm. You felt relieved at their normal behaviour as they played catch up with you, telling you about everything that happened since they had last seen you. 

This almost felt normal. As if you just hadn’t seen each other for a while because they were on tour or promoting their latest comeback.

Almost. 

“Hey,” a quiet voice spoke up from behind you and the boys shut up as you turned around, eyes landing on the lithe form of the one that had been missing so far. 

“Hello Jimin-sshi,” you greeted him, immediately wincing at your own mistake. His eyes widened a fraction before falling to gaze at the floor as he tried to regain his composure. 

You tried to behave normally around him like you did with the rest of the boys, you really did. But not remembering a single thing about him made it hard to not treat him formally. 

He breathed in deeply before plastering a bright grin on his face and approaching you, ruffling your hair, “It’s good to have you back. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you,” you said, smiling back as he diffused the awkward atmosphere you had created so easily, “It’s gotten pretty boring lying in bed all day so I’m glad to be out now.”

“Excuse you,” Jin piped up offended as he came back with a tray of food, “You had the best company with you. Us!”

“Sure, sure,” you replied teasingly, your mouth watering at your favourite dish and you immediately dug in, ignoring the “ungrateful brat” thrown at you by the others. 

The days passed quickly with the boys and soon you fell back into your normal routine of going to work, meeting up with friends and staying up late with the boys until they insisted you slept over. 

You said nothing but you knew they were just scared of leaving you alone in your apartment and after your almost death experience you weren’t too keen on being left alone either right now. 

You also couldn’t help but notice how they always talked about the past, digging up memories from years ago that mostly involved you and Jimin, some discreet and others rather obvious in their attempts (*cough* HOSEOK *cough*)

“Do you remember the time you were stuck in the elevator and you had a panic attack and Jimin calmed you down?”

“Do you remember when we all went to Jeju Island together and you insisted on going rafting? You fell off so many times and Jimin always had to pull you back into the boat.”

“Oh! Remember that time when it was pouring buckets and JImin gave you his jacket?”

Most of the memories were random and everyday stuff and whilst you were grateful that they were filling you in on everything you had lost, you sometimes felt slightly overwhelmed at their continuous attempts. One night, you were finally left alone as the boys drifted off to sleep around you, piles of albums scattered around the living room after another get-Y/N-to-remember-Jimin session. It was futile, you all heard the doctor say the aftereffects of the operation were irreversible; One of them was memory loss of the one person that had triggered the curse.

Yet, they wouldn’t give up and you felt sad at their disappointment whenever you came up blank after staring at all the pictures together. You would always remember the memories, but you never knew what part Jimin took in in all of them. 

Glancing at the boy next to you, you tried to imagine what he was going through right now. You couldn’t remember but he could, and it was probably painful when a friend ceased to recognise you. 

You were glad he was trying to be around you like the rest of the boys, not shying away from you even though he now knew you had been desperately in love with him at some point. You could tell why you would have fallen for him; he was endearingly sweet, charming everyone with his natural boy-next-door persona and incredibly loyal and protective of his friends. And despite everything, he didn’t shut you off like you would have in your sadness. 

He was there for you every day in the hospital, taking care of you as if you had been best friends for years. Which you had been, and you hoped that you could be again someday. 

Looking down at the album in your hands, you flipped through the pages, smiling at the dorky pictures of all of you. One in particular stood out to you; it was at some amusement park with a Ferris wheel in the back and people scattered around. You were alone in the picture, looking up at something with a big smile, the sun setting behind you. Happiness was radiating from your features as you were biting into your cotton candy.

“I took that picture,” Jimin’s voice softly spoke up next to you and you looked up, noticing he had scooted closer to look over your shoulder at the album, “It was last summer and we had randomly decided to visit the park. Which was so dumb in retrospect because it was a five hours drive from here,” he chuckled and you smiled at the sound, “But it was worth it, we had the most fun in a long time.”

“It was worth it,” you agreed, remembering that day clearly. Your smile faded slightly as your inner eye couldn’t detect Jimin anywhere in the memory and you bit back a frustrated sigh. Glancing at the boy next to you, you wondered how your past self must have felt having him so close to you; Did you heart flutter? Or did it race uncontrollably? Did you start sweating or did you shake with nerves, feeling flustered and not knowing what to do with your hands whenever he looked at you? You knew your heart must have bloomed in happiness whenever you had been around him, but now...

Now, you felt nothing. No fluttering, no shaking, no flustered uncertainty. All that was left was a dull ache in your chest, as if your heart still remembered and yearned for the feelings to come back.

“Y/N?” Jimin’s voice pulled you out of your musings and you realised you had been staring at him for too long as he glanced at you questioningly. There was a hint of something you couldn’t decipher in his eyes as you looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed at having been caught staring at him. 

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” you said, “What did you say?”

“I asked what you were thinking actually,” he chuckled and you glanced back up to see him gaze at you softly, “You always tend to drift off into your own world and I always tried to follow you there. You never let me though,” he recalled, and his smile faded slightly as he realised why that was. 

Even now you had thought about him, even if it wasn’t the way you probably used to.

Weeks passed like this, the boys still adamant in their attempts, showing no signs of resignation. Jimin himself thankfully didn’t push you too hard, treading rather carefully around you and rather trying to get you to get to know him point blank, ‘creating new memories’ with him as he stated.

Thus, you spent more time with him, even alone, eating out or going to an arcade, the amusment park, anywhere you hadn’t been before and had planned to go for so long. You grew a new fondness for him, purely platonic, and felt comfortable enough to even initiate casual skinship from time to time to his delighted surprise.

After a while it felt like everything turned out normal, like it might have been before you fell for him so you couldn’t really understand why the other boys still insisted on trying to trigger your memories when it only failed to have any gain.

You wouldn’t have minded, but their disappointed faces whenever you wouldn’t remember something caused you to feel disappointed in turn and it got frustrating to a point where you asked them to stop. And when they didn’t, you started avoiding them. 

So, here you were, for once alone and it actually felt good. You felt good. You were back in full health and were positive you wouldn’t pass out randomly anymore. The doctors had checked up on you one last time a few days ago, satisfied to see you fit and didn’t ask for another appointment. You had left happily with Jimin beside you, who had accompanied you. In fact, he had come with you for all your appointments, no matter the time.

You were immensely grateful for his friendship. especially glad that things were turning so well with him after everything and it made you sad that you had to avoid him as well because despite everything, he would sometimes look the most disappointed of all whenever you didn’t remember him. Even if he was trying to hide it behind his smile.

You wondered if he was just acting okay around you but falling apart on the inside with sorrow and once again, the guilt had ripped into you.

You cursed yourself for your feelings. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t you just have stayed in the platonic-feelings zone? 

Sighing, you looked down at the shoe box you had gotten from the boys, filled with selected pictures of you and Jimin mostly. Riffling through them, you smiled at all the happiness oozing from you and him, trying to figure out the stories behind each of the pictures. Your eyes got stuck on one picture at some park; you stood in front of a fountain with Jimin next to you, an arm draped over your shoulders as he gave the camera a cheesy grin. You on the other hand were looking at him, pure admiration in your eyes as you had the faintest smile gracing your features.

Man, you had been whipped.

“There you are,” a voice spoke from behind you and you looked over your shoulder even though you’d immediately recognised Jimin’s voice.

“How did you know I would be here?” you asked surprised as he settled down on the rock next to you, gaze set on the waves in front of you before he glanced over with a grin, “You always loved to come here for some thinking sessions. As if your brain isn’t working enough as it is,” he teased, knocking his knuckles against your temples softly. 

You smiled, turning your head down to stare back at the picture of you two. “Do you remember where this was taken?”

“Yeah, it was the park in Busan not far from my childhood home,” he reminisced, smiling naturally as he recalled the time, “It was near the beach, too. We spent all our time there.” He looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as you nodded, “That was my line though, your question.”

You chuckled sadly, causing his smile to fade, “I know. But I figured it would be a nice change if I asked for once.”

“Are we annoying you with this? I know the boys can become overbearing-”

“No, not at all!” you immediately protested, staring at him wide-eyed, “I’m really grateful that they are trying so hard. It’s just-,” you sighed, cutting yourself off.

“Just what?” Jimin inquired, placing a hand on your arm. Your inner turmoil calmed at his warm touch and you marvelled slightly at the effect he still had on you. Even if your mind didn’t remember anymore, your body still reacted to his touch from time to time. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you guys anymore,” you said quietly, staring out at the water, “I can tell the others get sad whenever I don’t remember something. Even if they are not showing it. It’s like they are trying so hard to get back like we used to but it’s not possible, is it?” you asked, looking to meet his steady gaze. Had you looked up a second earlier you would have seen the desperate hope clinging in his eyes get crushed at your words. You smiled at him unaware, “You don’t, though. Try to get my memories triggered. At least not as much as the others.”

Jimin nodded his head rapidly as he glanced away, staring down at his shoes. You sighed a little, “I’m glad you don’t. I’m glad you are rather trying to create new memories with me instead of insisting on staying stuck in the past. This way no one is going to be able to move on from this.”“Maybe they don’t want to,” he replied quietly, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees, “Move on from us. Maybe I- they thought that a happy end could have come out from this. If they hadn’t been so late...”

“But we can still have a happy end,” you insisted, “I’m fully healthy now and I’m getting to know you again every day. Whilst it might not be like we used to be I think we will best friends once again, someday. Right?” Jimin kept quiet for a second and you saw him swallow tightly before he looked at you with a strained but convincing smile. 

“Right.”

You smiled back brightly, feeling happy that at least one of the boys was moving on with you. The others would come around eventually as well. Jimin was always the more considerate one, it was one of the first things you found out about him after you woke up with the memories gone. 

Glancing down at the picture still in your hand, you regarded your loving gaze on him for a long time, trying to figure out why you had fallen for him. It wasn’t that hard. He was the kindest soul you had met with the purest angelic smile to ever grace this world; you were sure.

“You know,” you spoke up quietly, “I might not remember you in the past but from what I know so far, you are a really great person, Jimin.”

He turned his face towards you, smiling at your words. 

You smiled back brightly, “I can see why I was in love with you.” Something dropped in his face, but he kept his smile on, thanking you with a cracking voice. You held your arms up, “Hug?”

He agreed almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist as you wound yours around his neck, laying your head against his shoulder as you stared out at the water. “I’m really happy you are in my life,” you whispered. 

“Me too,” he said, coughing slightly. 

Unbeknownst to you, a single petal fell off his mouth and onto his palm.

End

Help me Get Coffee Support?

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 16

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Here is some info about the LGBTQ+ community in Russia. The post also contains a link to donate if you are able! Love y’all. That’s it. Xx

“Fuck,” Harry said. He shifted his weight onto his right leg and once more began to struggle with his tie.

“What? Do you want me to tie it?” Melody asked as she reentered the room, pinning a curl behind her ear.

“No. Can tie it just fine. Was usin’ the wrong leg again. And my arms are tired. I need to get back in the gym.”

“Then set up some times with Sean. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.”

“Mhmm.”

Harry sighed as Melody stepped in front of the mirror to apply a fresh coat of lipstick. He couldn’t see himself or the knot he was working on. Only her naked spine, where the back of her dress dipped.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” she asked as she set her lipstick down and turned around, rubbing her lips together. They were a deep pink, and Harry could guess they tasted as sweet as they looked.

“I can do it,” he insisted, angling so that he could look at himself in the mirror once again.

“I’ve never seen you in a tie,” Melody observed.

“Tha’s because I don’ like ‘em.”

“Well, that’s rude. I bought you that one as a gift, if I recall correctly.”

Harry willed his fingers not to stall. He could get lost in the memories of his birthday if he allowed himself. Finally, he pulled the knot tight and positioned it as the center of his throat. All the prouder that he hadn’t even closed his eyes to picture Melody bound to his headboard and spread open on his old bed.

“You look handsome.”

He grunted. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like a caricature, like some alternate universe Harry, some businessman with a couple of kids who got drunk every Friday night and cheated on his wife. All he was missing was a pager.

Melody leaned back against her dresser and folded her hands together.

“Harry, do you not wanna go?”

“What?”

She shrugged. “I don’t wanna make you—”

“Mel, shut up. ‘S your birthday. We’re goin’ to dinner.” He shot her a pointed look. He’d been extra gentle with her since talking to Goodman, though his frustration hadn’t ebbed. And even more careful since the day at the grocery store.

“Okay.”

Harry straightened the tie and tugged down the thighs of his trousers as Melody trailed into the living room to find her coat. It still felt strange to be in dress pants, but he had to admit this was more comfortable, that he had more room to breathe. The tie, however, he could do without.

“Ready?” Melody asked as he ambled out of the bedroom.

Harry nodded and ran a hand through his hair. It was beginning to grow and he wasn’t at all used to this length. As much as he craved the normalcy of long locks, this middle of the road thing, with the ends tickling his neck and catching in his eyes, he didn’t like. It was almost worse than the short cut. And he didn’t think he could get used to the scars that marked his scalp. He could feel their foreign indents with every sweep of his fingers.

Melody led him out into the hall and then locked the door behind them, dropping her keys into the pocket of her jacket. They tromped down the stairs and out onto the street. Harry loosened his tie absentmindedly when they were sitting in the backseat of a cab.

Melody chewed her freshly painted lips and glanced out the window, where all of the snow from the past week had melted but window panes were still frosted over. Her fingers inched across the seat until they brushed Harry’s and she fitted her palm with his. His thumb tickled her wrist.

“Smell so good,” he whispered to her.

Melody turned away from the window and scooted closer to him. “I’ve heard that line before.” She smiled. “So do you.”

Harry grinned. “And yeh look beautiful. Did I tell yeh that?”

“I don’t think you did. Could you tell me again?”

His grin fell into a smirk and he lifted her knuckles to his lips. He pressed kisses to her first and third fingers. “Yeh look gorgeous, love,” he said before leaning in to peck her forehead. “Happy birthday,” he told her again.

“Thank you,” Melody whispered in reply, turning her face into his neck. Instead of a kiss, she nudged his jaw with the tip of her nose to avoid smearing him with lipstick.

Despite protests, Harry paid for the cab when they arrived at the restaurant. A doorman ushered them inside, and then a hostess directed them to a table in the back corner of a dimly lit room, where Bea and Sean were already sitting. They smiled as Melody approached, slipping off her coat. Harry’s hand found her back just below the dip of her dress.

“Happy birthday,” greeted Sean with a wide grin, standing to skirt around the table and pull her into a hug. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and Harry frowned, settling into the chair across from Bea.

“Thanks,” Melody answered with a wide grin. She sat down next to Harry. Sean returned to his own seat and the four of them fell into a dull silence, adjusting to the new dynamic.

“I should tell you,” Bea began, finding a starting point, “that your parents sent these flowers.” She motioned to the centerpiece. It was a crystal vase filled with lilies and lavender, with sprigs of baby’s breath spilling around the edges. “And they’re also paying for the meal. I was given very specific instructions.”

“Of course you were.” Melody smiled and stroked the petal of a lily. As much as her parents felt like a weight pressing upon her shoulders, she missed them. If she had seen them today, she might not feel the same way, but for now she felt a quiet ache. It was her first birthday without so much as a visit from them.

“Presents before or after dinner?” Sean asked. His fingers curled around the neck of his beer as his eyes fixed on Melody. Harry’s gaze was scorching, but flitted away at the smallest twist of Sean’s head.

“You didn’t need to get me anything. I told you not to—“

“And I didn’t listen. Too late now. So, before or after?”

Sean grinned across the table and Melody puckered her lips to hide her own smile. She hummed. “Um, after, I guess.”

“After it is.”

***

Melody had nearly drained her third glass of wine by the time everyone finished eating. Her face was tinged pink with the warmth of the alcohol. She let her cutlery clatter to her plate and settled back in her chair. Harry looked up when her fingers slid into his lap and he found her talking animatedly to Bea.

“You barely even ate,” Melody said as she looked down at Bea’s plate.

“I’m gonna share the rest with Josie. She was pissed that she had to work. And I mean pissed. Mostly because she was missing a good meal.” Bea laughed. “Not that she doesn’t love you because she does and she would’ve loved to celebrate your birthday,” she continued, rambling, “but, you know.”

Melody grinned and nodded so voraciously that a curl fell loose. “I know, I know.”

“So, gifts?” Sean asked. He blew out a long sigh, groaning at the impossible amount of food that he’d consumed. His plate was nearly spotless.

“Oh, God. Yes. Sure.”

Harry tipped a mouthful of beer past his lips as Melody’s hand fell from his thigh. Bea’s face disappeared out of view as she reached beneath the table. She reemerged with a bright pink gift bag spilling with glittery tissue paper, which she placed on the table. Melody gasped as something hit her feet.

“Sorry,” Bea said. “That’s Harry’s. It’s too big for the table.”

Melody turned to look at him and he merely lifted his brows in acknowledgment. She reached for the pink bag on the table as Sean fished for his own present. The tissue paper threw shapes of light around the room as she settled each piece around her plate.

“Oh, you bitch,” she muttered, peeking into the bag with a dramatic gasp. “Are you serious?”

Bea flashed a white smile. “Very serious.”

“Why would you spend—“

“They’re from me and Josie,” Bea interrupted.

“What the hell is in the bag?” Harry asked, leaning forward.

Melody’s shock morphed into a pleased smile. She pulled a long black, velvety, heeled boot from the bag. “I’ve been staring at these for two years. Fuck.” She pressed the fabric to her cheek and sighed. “Thank you. And tell Josie thank you. Please.”

“Of course I will.”

Harry settled back in his chair and laid his arms over his stomach. Sean set a box on the table as Melody folded up the leg of her new boot and placed it back in its bag. He slid the box toward her.

“Me next.”

Melody took a large gulp of her wine and thumbed a stray drop into her mouth before ripping open the paper on Sean’s gift. Her fingers stumbled just slightly as she pulled the lid from the box. A thin layer of tissue paper covered the contents. She pulled it back and then dropped her head forward, shaking it weakly. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered.

Melody pulled a boxing glove from beneath the tissue paper. It was pink and the leather shone beneath the lights above their table. There were letters stitched into the velcro cuffs. Harry had to squint to make them out. He deciphered “Rhoden” after a short struggle and then tried not to roll his eyes.

“You do like pink, right?” Sean asked. “I didn’t just make that up?”

“No, I love pink.” Her index finger traced the letters of her last name. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We can break them in next week.”

Melody closed the box again and looked at Harry. He was still staring at the gifts she’d already opened.

“Harry.” She tapped the back of his hand. “Do you want me to open yours?”

“Sure,” he answered with a shrug. “Go ahead.”

Melody pressed her lips together as she reached under the table and drew a hefty package up into her lap. Her fingertips picked at the edges of the brown wrapping paper. The flaps of the box were taped together and she ripped a piece away before peeling the edges back.

“Oh,” Melody whispered. It was an old typewriter, tarnished but beautiful. Harry watched her very gently brush a line of keys with her fingers. She curled her knuckles and pressed them to her chin, twisting her head to face him. “Where did you find this?”

Harry cleared his throat and tightened his arms over his torso. “Just some antique place in the city.”

Her eyes roamed his face and then she dipped her hand back into the box. There was a metallic click as she pressed a key. “This works?”

Harry nodded gently. He couldn’t gauge her reaction when she was so quiet and still. He looked down at his finished plate and there was only a moment before Melody’s hand grasped the back of his neck. He felt her lips press to the corner of his jaw. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered. She stroked the ends of his hair. She smelled like sweet wine. “Thank you.”

Bea leaned across the table to look into the box and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, my God. He’s a sap.”

Melody laughed into Harry’s ear and straightened, still drawing her fingers through his hair. “Shut up.”

“No, you shut up.”

“Are you coming home with us?” Melody asked. She slipped her hand out of Harry’s hair and closed the box in her lap, laying her palms gently on top.

Bea took a deep breath. “No, I’ll leave you two to your own devices. I’m gonna meet Josie. You don’t want dessert?”

“I couldn’t eat another crumb.”

“It’s your birthday, Melody.”

“And I’m stuffed.”

Sean rubbed one eye. “Time for your exit, birthday girl?”

“Sorry to end the party,” she said. She settled the typewriter in its box very carefully at the side of her chair and stood up, looping around the table. Sean stood to meet her in a hug.

Harry was silent as he watched the two of them. Sean had an arm clasped across Melody’s shoulders and another wrapped around her waist, fingers curled into her hip. They were pressed directly against one another, chest to chest, belly to belly, and as he watched, Sean whispered something into Melody’s ear that made her let out a peal of laughter. And then they released each other, stepping back to opposite corners of the table, grinning.

Harry glanced briefly down at the box containing Melody’s new gloves, and the sudden wave of anger that rushed through him was almost blinding. He stood abruptly, the legs of his chair squeaking across the tile flooring. Melody glanced at him from the corner of her eye before he stepped behind her and around the end of the table. “Harry?” she asked curiously. He took the collar of Sean’s shirt between his fists.

“Yeh’re a right motherfucker,” he growled as he shoved Sean, who was unprepared and stumbled over a leg of the table.

“Harry!” Melody hissed. No one had turned to look at them yet, and she was hopeful that whatever this was could be stopped, or at least postponed until they were outside.

“What?” Sean gripped the back of his chair to catch himself and shook his head incredulously. “What did I do?”

“Did yeh wait a week? A month?” Harry shoved Sean again and then swung without warning. His fist connected with Sean’s cheek and Melody clapped a hand over her mouth as she saw spit hit the tiles. Cutlery clattered to plates and the restaurant fell silent.

“For what?” Sean shouted, feeling gingerly at his rapidly swelling cheek.

“To fuckin’ touch her, yeh pathetic fuck.”

Sean’s eyes widened and flickered to Melody, who still stood across the table, frozen. Harry flexed his stinging knuckles to loosen them and prepare for another punch.

Sean scoffed. “Have you lost your goddamn mind? Take another bullet to that thick head?”

Harry swung again to a background of outraged gasps and this time blood began to trickle from the corner of Sean’s mouth. His tongue touched the wound once and then he threw himself at Harry, toppling the two of them to the ground.

“Holy fuck,” Bea muttered, rising from the table as the boys knocked Sean’s chair into hers.

Melody flinched at the sound of Harry’s face as it took one of Sean’s hits. She lifted her eyes from their mess for a second which could have lingered for hours, panning the restaurant, meeting the stunned faces of other patrons. A grunt drew her attention back to the tangle of limbs at her feet. She watched a spray of blood settle on the floor. Voices lifted from across the room and the next thing she knew, a very large man dressed in black was weaving between the tables toward them.

Melody drew in a prolonged breath and then slid her jacket from the back of her chair. She met Bea’s eyes for the first time and found her friend watching her intently, concerned, waiting for a cue. Melody swallowed whatever emotions had begun to bubble up to the surface and shook her head. “I need to leave,” she said quietly.

Bea nodded and was on her feet in one swift movement, shouldering her purse and coat, linking her other arm in Melody’s. They left their table behind, flowers and gifts and all, and fled the building. Melody breathed a sigh of relief when she met the cold sidewalk, snowflakes settling along her shoulders, melting along her cheeks.

“Fuck,” she murmured, slipping her arm from Bea’s so that she could stretch out her limbs, close her hands around some invisible grasp on this situation. “Fuck,” she repeated, louder.

“Are you okay?” Bea asked. She shook her head almost before she’d finished the thought. “I mean, you’re not okay, of course. What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know.” Melody pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead. “He’s so angry all the time and I don’t know how to curb that anger, Bea.”

“But he thinks you cheated on him? With Sean?”

“No.” Melody was indignant. She leaned back against the wall of the building beside the restaurant and lifted one foot to unbuckle her shoe. “No, he doesn’t. He just wants to hit someone and Sean was his closest target.”

Bea sputtered in bewilderment. “I thought they were friends.”

“I don’t think he cares right now,” Melody said as she finished taking off her heels and clutched them to her chest. Her body was calm. She didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Furious? There was a faint buzz of irritation now, but she was sure it would soon evolve into something else.

“I’ll grab your things,” Bea began, “if you wanna—”

The door to the restaurant flew open and Harry and Sean stumbled outside, bruised and bleeding and swearing almost incoherently. The man wearing black slammed the door closed behind them. Sean turned to escape down the street, breathing heavily, flipping Harry off as he went.

“Fine, pussy,” Harry called after him. Then he twisted around and his eyes met Melody’s. He paused, gasping in the fresh air, squeezing the collar of his jacket which hung at his side.

“Grab a cab,” Bea whispered to her.

Melody dropped her gaze and began down the sidewalk, back in the direction of her apartment, watching the street for a taxi.

Harry started behind her but he hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps before Bea stood in his path.

“You need to leave her alone,” she said in the hardest tone he’d ever heard her use.

“No, I need to—”

“Harry,” she snapped, “listen to me. You’ve done enough tonight. She needs space. And I swear to God, if I can’t get my leftovers Josie will kill you on sight.” There was no amusement in her voice. “What Melody needs is for you to start—”

Harry had been listening—distracted, admittedly—but at that moment he saw a cab passing him by, heading up the street, and he saw Melody step off the sidewalk, between a couple of parked cars. He tapped Bea’s shoulder as he maneuvered around her and booked his way down the sidewalk.

“Melody!” he shouted. He didn’t really expect her to stop for him, but she didn’t even spare him a glance as she slid into the backseat of the cab. The door slammed shut just as he reached it. He smacked a hand against the window. “Melody, please. ‘M sorry. I know I—”

The car pulled away from the side of the road and shifted into the thin traffic. Harry took a few steps in pursuit, but gave up as the driver weaved away from him. He watched the cab’s bumper grow smaller until it disappeared around a corner and then he hung his head.

***

Harry had no luck getting his own taxi. He supposed it was karma, laughing at his attempts. He trekked the entire way back to Melody’s apartment. His feet ached by the time he reached the front door and his face stung something awful. He thought that the cold air might have numbed it, but the wind only irritated his cuts, biting at his swollen nose.

He dragged his way up the stairs to the apartment, almost wishing for more time before he had to face her, and when he tried the door he found it locked. He didn’t have a key. He’d never wanted a key. He rested his forehead just below the peephole, clinging to the doorframe.

“Melody,” he called. There was silence, but he knew she was here. He could almost feel her presence inside. “Mel, please open the door.”

This time there were footsteps. But they padded closer and then disappeared into a different room. Harry gritted his teeth.

“Melody, I don’ have anywhere else to go. Please, let me in.”

Silence fell again. And then footsteps sounded. This time they drew even closer. Harry heard the locks click and then the footsteps receded once again. He tested the doorknob and then stepped into the apartment, sure to lock the door behind him.

Light fell from the open door to Melody’s bedroom. Her shoes were thrown haphazardly on the kitchen floor and Harry nearly tripped over them as he moved warily into the main space. His steps slowed the closer he got to her, as though his legs were warning him. But then he reached the threshold of her room.

Melody was staring out her window at the pitiful view she had. She wasn’t really seeing, anyway. She was only looking. And the reflection of her face was more visible than anything past the glass.

“You are a fucking jackass,” she started, when it was apparent that Harry would not break first. “There is not a fucking word in the English language to describe what you are. Or how fucking pissed I am at you.”

“Yeh’re pissed? How the fuck d’yeh think I feel when Sean—”

“Just shut up, Harry!”

Melody had been angry with Harry many times before. She’d yelled at him and cried at him, but he’d never heard her scream like this. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

Frustrated tears were pooling at the corners of her eyes, and she could think of nothing to do but grit her teeth and begin digging the pins out of her hair. She avoided looking at his reflection.

“What is that? You think that by now I wouldn’t know you better than that? It’s bullshit! You know for a fucking fact that I would never, ever cheat on you. I would never do that to you. The four months that you were in a hospital and I was fucking traumatized and terrified to death that I would never speak to you again? That’s when I would fuck your goddamn cornerman? Of all the half-assed excuses you could come up with.” She shook her head. “You’re just stir-crazy and sadistic and instead of acting like a normal person and going to a goddamn boxing class or training with the closest friend you have you split his fucking lip open! And you can’t just say it like it is—that you just needed to hit someone—you blame me. You concoct this bullshit idea that I am fucking your friend behind your back. That is humiliating. And you ruined my birthday again, you selfish asshole!”

Melody was sobbing. She spun around, whipping the pins she had collected across the bedroom, and lifted her forearms up to hide her face.

Harry let a slow breath out from between his lips. He watched her body wrack where she stood and dropped his head forward, smoothing a hand up and down his face. He took a step into the bedroom and then backtracked, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants. His heart was thundering in his chest.

“Mel—”

“Do not call me that!” she shouted between hysterical sobs. It took her another minute to collect herself enough to lower her arms, and then she swiped wildly at the makeup that had begun to run down her cheeks. “Please, just go away.”

“Can I just—”

“No! No, you can’t. Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Harry pressed his lips so tightly together that he could feel the blood draining from them. Melody gave him one last cold look and then turned around to strip out of her dress. She swung it in the direction of her laundry basket and opened the drawer of her night table.

“Go!” she snapped. “Close the door!”

Harry stepped back into the living room as she pulled a makeup wipe out and began scrubbing at her face. He let the door click shut between them and pressed his forehead to its peeling paint. His knuckles stung. His nose hurt terribly. He knew it wasn’t broken because that was a different type of pain, but he felt like shit.

“Christ,” he hissed between his teeth.

“Hi, mama,” he heard, muffled, from the other side of the door a few moments later. He didn’t know how Melody could have collected herself so quickly, but he could barely hear the tears lingering as she spoke. 

The apartment felt stiff and tense. The very air seemed charged. Harry, looking toward his feet, saw the light disappear from underneath the door and then heard the shift of the mattress inside the bedroom. He was lost in the darkness, not even a generous moon to light the living room. But he stepped away from the door and navigated his way by memory and with cautious feet.

The couch pressed into all the wrong places. Or maybe he imagined how uncomfortable it was as he stripped out of his coat and clothes and laid down, staring up into the unyielding shadow. It wasn’t warm, but he didn’t allow himself the comfort of draping his coat over his body.

The minutes ticked by. Perhaps they were hours. His eyes did not grow heavy. He should have done something about his face, he thought belatedly, but he had no motivation. He pressed his knuckles, one by one, to his chest, until each sang in protest.

“Harry.”

The sound made him twitch. He hadn’t heard any footsteps, but as he glanced toward the arm of the couch, his eyes now adjusted to the dark, he saw Melody. She was wearing one of his ratty t-shirts and her arms were clasped tightly at the base of her ribcage.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“I—” Melody let out a heavy sigh and pressed her palms to her forehead, then brushed hair from her face. She stared at him, her eyes red-rimmed. He thought she was going to turn around and shut herself up in the bedroom again, but she kept staring. Silent. 

“I can’t sleep if you’re not in the bed,” she eventually breathed out.

Harry drew the corner of his lip into his mouth and bit down hard on it. He dug the tips of his fingers into his knee until his knuckles sang again with the memory of the last punch he’d delivered to Sean. “D’yeh want me to lay with yeh?”

Melody nodded.

Harry lifted himself off of the couch and Melody slipped back into the bedroom. She was already beneath the sheets by the time he followed her inside, and he laid himself down carefully beside her on his back. This bed smelled like them. No longer just of her, like it used to, or just of him, like his bed had last year, but like a perfect mixture of the both of them. It made him ache all over.

Melody shifted beneath the covers. Harry stared up at the ceiling while she repositioned. He felt her tug on the comforter before falling still again and his fingers ached at his sides. He wanted to reach out and touch her but he knew that wasn’t an option, not unless she asked him to. And she was asleep before that was even possible.

Chapter 17

[fikidurin]

Prompt: Fountain of Roses [AO3] Paramedic!Fili/Injured!Kili

Kili had the mind of a poet.

To him, the night sky wasn’t simply black, it was an endless cavern of hope, filled with twinkling lights and exuded a humbling aura.

How could humanity ever hope to explore its vastness?

How could they be so arrogant to assume they were the only life forms the universe had to offer?

Who could look up at the sky, illuminated by a glowing pearlescent moon, and not understand true beauty?

Kili liked to take his motorbike out of the city on nights when he couldn’t sleep, to leave the brightness of the metropolis behind him and just sit on the cliffside, looking up at the sky.

Nothing in the world had ever managed to capture his attention the way the stars did.

This was his escape. Nobody knew he came out here, and he would never tell.

Which was why the accident almost killed him.

He swerved for a shape in the road—a rabbit or something—and the bike flipped.

Kili landed, body twisted, and all he knew was pain.

I’m going to die, he realised, and forced himself to open his eyes one last time so he could see the stars.

Instead, he saw red, and though he couldn’t quite focus on it, his last conscious thought was that his blood looked like a fountain of rose petals.

*

When he opened his eyes, he saw the stars.

They were brighter than he’d ever remembered, and reminded Kili more of the ocean than the night sky.

These stars were deep and shallow all at once, and he could stare for hours and never be able to identify every shade of blue.

He blinked again and realised that the stars were talking to him.

“Can you hear me? Can you tell me what your name is?”

“Kili,” he breathes, and his eyes begin to flutter closed again.

“No, keep your eyes open for me. Kili, stay with me, okay? Kili!”

The stars said his name so sweetly, but the saccharine embrace of sleep called to him more strongly, and Kili remembered nothing more.

*

Opening his eyes stung like hell, but his doctor insisted he try.

His head lolled to the side in an attempt to shield himself from the brightness of the overhead light, and he cracked his eyes open again, feeling them water from sensitivity.

The first thing he saw was a burst of colours: pinks, purples, whites. They all blurred together, until Kili blinked again and his vision cleared.

Flowers.

A glimpse of movement caught his attention and he turned instinctively. Someone was leaving his room. Kili saw a glimpse of blonde hair and broad shoulders and licked his lips.

“Hey,” he croaked.

The man froze, and turned, looking a little sheepish to have been caught. “You’re awake.”

“So it appears. I’m still not convinced I’m not dead.”

“You were lucky. You punctured an artery. My partner and I had a hell of a time keeping you alive until we got to the hospital.”

“Your… partner?”

The stranger perched on the edge of his bed, and Kili got a better look at him for the first time. Those eyes… why did they look so familiar?

“I’m a paramedic.”

Kili didn’t know what to say to that. Thanks didn’t seem like enough, and either way the word stuck in his throat. “You often visit your patients?”

If he had the strength, he would have kicked himself for that. Way to sound ungrateful, Kili.

“Sometimes.” The man didn’t seem offended. “I’m Fili, by the way.”

Kili tried to nod, but it bought a fresh burst of pain behind his eyes and he hissed behind his teeth. Better not to try that again. 

Instead, he changed topics again. “The flowers are beautiful.”

He was surprised when Fili almost seemed to fidget at the words. “I just… I wasn’t… everyone deserves to have flowers when they’re in the hospital.”

Kili’s eyes widened just a fraction. The flowers were from Fili? He managed a smile. “Do you often bring flowers to your patients?” He asked.

So he was being kind of a dick. The way he saw it, he nearly died and everyone could cut him some slack.

“Only the ones that wax lyrical about my eyes while I’m scraping them off the tarmac.” Fili shoots back.

Kili’s eyes widened even further. “I did what?”

“Yep.” Fili’s mouth made a pop sound on the plosive, and he looked quite pleased with himself. “It was quite flattering, really.”

“Yeah, well, I can hardly be blamed for not having a filter and talking absolute rubbish. I did hit my head after all.”

This felt familiar. Easy bickering, light and insincere. It was the first time Kili had felt normal in the few days or so since he’d first woken up, and he even started to smile.

Of course, that was exactly when Fili’s pager went off and he glanced down at it instantly. “I have to go.”

Kili promised himself he wasn’t disappointed, and tried to ease back into casual politeness. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you. Lives to save, and all that. Maybe the next patient will weave sonnets about the golden colour of your hair.”

For fuck’s sake.

But Fili only smiled. “I’ve no doubt you could do better. I’ll come back in a couple of days and you can give me your best shot, how about that?”

“Don’t count on it,” Kili muttered, but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading over his face.

It stayed there long after Fili was gone.

[omgjasminesimone]

Masters of Sex Part 2

Bryce x MC

Follow up to this story as part of my 500 followers follow ups celebration.

Word Count: 2500

A week after Bryce and Casey’s hate sex session, Casey is approached by the last person she wants to talk to in the hospital hallway.

“Hi, Dr. Valentine, right? Can I talk to you for a second?” The pretty hospital pharmacist who slept with Bryce several months ago, who Casey thought was basically her boyfriend at the time, asks.

Casey gestures at the lab results she’s going over. “I’m actually really busy.” Casey claims.

“It will really just take a second.” The other woman insists, smiling gently.

Casey resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Fine.” She says shortly.

“Would you like to talk in the cafeteria?”

“Here is fine.” Casey insists, tapping her foot impatiently.

The pharmacist, Kelly, according to her name tag sighs. “Okay then. I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t know you and Bryce had anything going on, I definitely wasn’t trying to step into an existing relationship.” Kelly says softly, keeping her voice low so the doctors, nurses, and patients passing through the halls don’t hear them.

“You can have him if you want. Me and Bryce are done.” Casey replies, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

“Really? That’s not what he said when I ran into him at the gym yesterday. He said you guys were going to try to work it out.” Kelly reports. 

Casey rolls her eyes. Why would Bryce send this woman here to talk to her? Did he think this was going to help?

“Well, I guess he got his wires crossed, because we’re done. So, feel free to continue to sleep with him.” Casey insists. Casey turns on her heel and walks away before Kelly can respond. She’s fuming as she heads to the on-call room where she knows Bryce is likely napping between surgeries. 

She opens the door, and there he is, asleep on the small cot. She closes the door loudly enough to wake him up. 

Bryce starts as he wakes, reflexively checking his pager before he realizes that’s not what woke him up. His bleary eyes drift up to Casey. “What-” He starts, but Casey quickly interrupts. 

“Why did you tell the pharmacist that we were trying to work it out?” Casey asks, tone harsh. 

Bryce furrows his brow in confusion. “That’s not what I told her. I said I wanted to try to work it out.”

“Why would you even tell her anything in the first place? Did you want her to report back to me? Make me think that all of a sudden you’re going to act like you’re in a relationship?”

“Why would I have asked her to talk to you? It clearly just pissed you off.” Bryce retorts. 

“Then, again, why did you tell her anything?” Casey repeats impatiently. 

“Because, at the gym, she asked if I wanted to come by her place last night. And I told her no, and explained that you were mad at me for the last time I hooked up with her, even though we weren’t officially together, and then I said that I’m not sleeping with anybody else, because I want to work it out with you.” Bryce explains. 

Casey leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Well, don’t deprive yourself on my account. I’m done Bryce. Sleep with whoever you want.”

“I only want you. And I’m going to prove it to you.” Bryce responds with resolve. 

“What do you think you could possibly do to prove that?” Casey challenges. 

“Well, step one is the celibacy. And then…. I’m still working on the other steps to get you back.” Bryce replies, smiling tentatively. 

Casey rolls her eyes, turning towards the door. “Don’t hold your breath.” 

“Mark my words Casey, I’m going to make you fall in love with me, again.” Bryce calls after her.

...

..

“What the hell is this?” Casey asks when she steps into her room a week later. 

“Isn’t it romantic Casey? Bryce filled your room with roses!” Sienna exclaims, collapsing onto Casey’s bed, which has been covered in rose petals. 

“Who let him in here?” Casey complains. 

“Come on Case, the guy had $800 of roses in a wagon, I couldn’t turn him away.” Elijah claims. 

Casey picks up a rose from one of the many bouquets on her floor. “What a waste of money, he should have given me a Visa gift card.”

“Jesus, your heart is ice cold.” Elijah replies, shaking his head. 

“I told him this wasn’t going to work.” Jackie adds, moving a bouquet from Casey’s desk chair so she can sit. 

“I don’t even like flowers. Shows how much he doesn’t even know me. What am I going to do with all of these?” Casey questions. 

...

“Jackie told me you didn’t like the roses.” Bryce says, leaning against the desk as Casey uses the head nurse’s computer to look up her patient’s symptoms. 

“You shouldn’t have wasted all that money.” Casey chastises. 

Bryce shrugs. “I’m not worried about the money. I’m a surgeon after all.”

“A surgical intern.” Casey retorts. 

“Same thing.”

“Very different salary.” 

Bryce laughs at that, smiling at her. Casey quickly looks away. Damn him and that perfect smile. 

“Did you throw them away?” Bryce asks, rising from his leaning position when he sees Dr. Avery coming down the hall. He’ll have to head off to assist with her hernia repair surgery soon. 

“No, Sienna made them into potpourri balls. You know she’s crafty. Sold them at the farmer’s market. She made like $200.” Casey answers. 

Bryce laughs again. “Did she split it with you?”

“Yep, $100 richer. But that could have been $800 if you’d just given me the cash.”

“But I’m not trying to buy you Valentine, I know you’re priceless” Bryce replies with a wink before walking away.  

...

..

Casey wakes with a splitting headache in an unfamiliar bed two weeks later. She glances at her bed mate. Shit. It’s Henry Johnson. A psychology fellow from Edenbrook. She’d gone out to Donahue’s the night before, danced and flirted with Henry, and when she was drunk enough, went home with him. 

She vaguely remembers the sex. Unremarkable. Nothing like with Bryce. 

Double shit, Casey thinks as she sits up, looking out the window. Of course, Henry has to live in the same apartment complex as Bryce. 

It’s not that much of a surprise, a lot of the hospital staff live here because they heavily advertise at the hospital and offer a slight discount. But it’s bad luck none the less. 

Casey checks Henry’s clock. 8:10 AM. Bryce should probably still be at the gym from his morning workout. She’ll just sneak out really quick, and not even have to see him. 

Casey slips out from under Henry’s arm, sliding back into her dress from last night. She catches her reflection in Henry’s bathroom mirror. Make-up from last night still on and smudged, her curls looking a mess. She sighs, preparing herself for her walk of shame. 

She gets into the elevator, glad to see no one else in it. She impatiently presses the button for the lobby. But the elevator stops on the 10th floor, and of course Bryce Lahela is standing there. 

He seems surprised to see her, but quickly schools his expression as he steps into the elevator. 

Casey can’t believe her bad luck. 

“Long night?” Bryce asks. He tries to say it with levity, but there’s underlying jealousy and anger there. Casey rolls her eyes. 

“I don’t owe you anything. We’re not together. I can sleep with whoever I want.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” Bryce responds, somewhat testy. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. “What kind of pie do you like?”

Casey looks at him incredulously as the elevator reaches the lobby. “Pie?”

Bryce nods. “I’m baking you a pie today. That’s step 3. The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.”

Casey walks out of the elevator, heading for the T stop. Bryce follows. “Why are you doing this? I told you we’re done. Maybe one day we can be friends again. But as far as a relationship goes, I’ve clearly moved on.” Casey gestures to her outfit from last night. 

“If it was any good, you wouldn’t be sneaking out of his apartment at 8 in the morning.” Bryce insists. Casey can’t really argue that point, so Bryce continues. “We’re good together Casey, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

Casey ignores that, splitting off from Bryce to head up the street. “I don’t like pie!” She calls over her shoulder.

“Liar, everyone likes pie!” Bryce shouts back.

...

The next day, Casey walks into the kitchen after her shift and finds her roommates all eating cherry pie around the kitchen table. 

“Bryce brought it over a little bit ago.” Sienna informs Casey as she pulls up a chair. 

Jackie cuts Casey a slice, handing it over. 

Casey chews thoughtfully. 

“So, what’s the verdict?” Elijah questions. 

“Hmmm...It’s not bad, but not amazing either.” Casey decides. 

“Come on Casey, you can tell he worked so hard on this. Don’t you see the indentations in the crust?!” Sienna presses. 

Casey shrugs, taking another bite. “He shouldn’t quit his day job.”

...

..

3 weeks later, Casey comes down with a nasty, highly contagious bug. She doesn’t want to infect her roommates, so she checks herself into a hotel south of Boston. She’s absolutely miserable, and pretty sure that she’s dying. She’s almost fallen into a fitful sleep when she feels a hand pressed against her feverish forehead. 

“Ahh!” She screams, rolling away and fighting to get from under the twisted covers. 

“Casey! It’s just me!” Bryce reveals, hands raised in a non-threatening manner. 

“What the hell Bryce? What are you doing here?” Casey asks when her heart rate has slowed down. 

“I heard you were sick.” He replies simply. 

“How’d you even get in here?” 

“Hotel concierges don’t ask a lot of questions when you just say, hey, I’d like an extra key to this room please, Casey Valentine’s.” Bryce answers. 

“That’s terrifying.” Casey mutters. 

“Well, in her defense, I look extremely non-threatening.” Bryce insists. 

Casey rolls her eyes. “Why are you here though? I’m in this hotel quarantining myself so I don’t get anyone else sick.”

Bryce waves off her concerns. “I have an extremely strong immune system. Haven’t been sick in like 15 years. So, I came to take care of you.” Bryce reaches to the nightstand. “Here, take these.” He hands her some medicine. “And drink this.” Some Gatorade. 

Bryce gets up from the bed, moving over to the couch and opening a textbook he pulls from his backpack. “Now get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll make you some soup.” Bryce instructs.

“You really don’t have to do this.” Casey insists, eyes drooping from the sheer exhaustion of being so sick. 

“I want to. Sweet dreams Casey.”

...

3 days later, Casey has recovered. And she hears from one of the surgical interns that Bryce is sick. She knocks on the door of his apartment. It takes him a while to answer the door, wrapped in a blanket and looking absolutely miserable. His expression immediately brightens when he sees her though. “Casey! What a pleasant surprise!” He greets, stepping aside so she can come in. 

Casey can’t help but give him an ‘I told you so look. “So, I guess your super immune system failed you?”

“This is some bug you caught Casey. Takes a lot to take me down.” Bryce insists, slowly lowering himself back onto his couch. 

“Have you eaten anything?” Casey questions. 

“I can’t keep anything down.”

“I know, but you have to eat something anyway.” Casey insists, pulling some warm vegetable broth soup from her shopping bag. “I also brought medicine, and fluids.” She reveals, sitting beside him and handing him the soup. 

“.... Did you think this would be the circumstances that would get you back to my apartment?” Bryce asks, chuckling weakly, but that quickly turns into a rumbling cough. 

“I had thought the only thing that could get me back here is more hate sex, but I owe you one.” Casey quips. 

Bryce laughs, taking a few small spoonfuls of the soup. He sets the soup to the side, leaning down to rest his head in Casey’s lap. Even she doesn’t have the heart to shoo him away when he’s so sick, especially when he’s sick because he took care of her. 

“Sweet dreams Bryce.” She murmurs as he falls asleep. She turns the TV on mute, watching it with subtitles. 

…

..

A few weeks later, Casey collapses to the floor of the supply closet as soon as she closes the door, tears wracking her small frame. She can’t believe she lost her. She ran so many tests, desperate to find why the young girl’s cell counts were so low. But she ran out of time, the child dying while Casey held her hand.

She knows who it is when the door opens, her suspicions confirmed when he gets onto the floor beside her and gathers her into his strong arms. She cries into Bryce’s chest, clinging to him desperately.

“Shh…. what’s wrong?” Bryce tries to comfort when her sobs show no sign of subsiding.

Casey just shakes her head, hugging him tighter as she continues to cry. Eventually, she’s all cried out. And then she tells Bryce about losing her patient.

Bryce wipes her tears away with his calloused thumbs, smiling sadly at her. “Do you want to know what I do when I lose a patient?” He questions.

Casey nods weakly, and Bryce stands, pulling her to her feet as well. He takes her hand, and gently leads her out of the supply closet, into the stairwell, and then up to the 6th floor. He walks her though the hallway and stops in front of the window of the nursery.

Casey looks at the newborn babies, all different shades and sizes. She can’t help but smile when she gazes at them, all bundled up in blue and pink hospital gear.

Bryce steps up to her back, speaking quietly behind her. “When I come up here, it reminds me that life goes on. It’s horrible to lose a patient, especially a young one, but you have to remember that you did all you could. And you’ll learn from this. And hopefully be able to save the next one. There’s always a chance to start over new Casey.” Bryce concludes.

Casey leans back into Bryce’s embrace, observing the room full of new beginnings.

…

..

After thinking long and hard about it, 4 days later Casey sends a text.

Casey Valentine: Do you want to get dinner? So we can talk about starting over new?

Bryce replies seconds later.

Bryce Lahela: Name the time and place, I’m there.

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[bcbdrums]

It’s Drakgo fluff time!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13577191/8/The-Little-Ones

Thanks @gogofordrakgo for helping with the story starter!

For Leena.

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

Drakken took a step back from the stove as he was unable to stifle a massive yawn. He blinked a few times to focus himself as he quickly returned to the crepe batter cooking in the large pan in front of him. He grinned at the scent that was rapidly filling the small kitchen.

"Mother's secret recipe..." he sing-songed to himself as the crepe finished and he quickly slid it out onto the waiting plate. He filled the crepe with the macerated strawberries he had already prepared, and after folding the crepe topped it in a light sprinkle of powdered sugar and a generous dollop of vanilla bean whipped cream.

He pause a moment to take a long drink of his coffee, and then he added a large link of chicken apple sausage to the plate. He set the plate and Shego's latte on the waiting tray, smiling down at the heart he had made in the milk foam inside the cup.

"And the finishing touch..." he murmured happily as he took off his apron and tossed it back on the hook. His vine slid out from his t-shirt collar on command and produced a large-bloomed pink flower. He plucked it gently and placed it in the ready vase on the tray, and then carefully began the trek back to the bedroom.

A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was just before seven. It was the perfect time to wake Shego for breakfast on their special day. And it was all the more appropriate that they were currently residing in the Caribbean lair for such an occasion.

The bedroom door slid open automatically when he approached it.

"Oh Dumpling," he sang out softly as he stepped inside, "happy anniver—"

He paused and looked around the room, blinking. There was no Shego. He crossed the moat and set the tray on the bed, but when he turned toward the bathroom he paused and furrowed his brow. The door was open, and the interior beyond was dark. He stepped over and looked inside to be sure she wasn't there, and then turned back to survey the bedroom again, scratching his head in confusion.

He wondered where else she could be, and why... He carried the tray back to the kitchen as he thought back to when he had snuck out of bed in the dark hours before dawn. It suddenly occurred to him...he hadn't seen her then either.

He left the tray in the kitchen and began searching the lair, picking up a cordless phone extension as he passed through the living room and found it darkened. He had barely reached the lab before he began dialing her number.

He stood in the open lab doorway, everything within the room still and silent, making the ringing of the phone at his ear seem all the louder. After five rings, it went to her voicemail.

"Shego, I...it's about seven in the morning on Sunday and I'm just wondering where you are. Ignore this message if I've just missed seeing you in the lair somehow."

He hung up and turned back toward the kitchen... Where could she have gone? And why? And why without telling him? That last one was especially concerning, considering—

A noise far across the lair caught his attention, and he hurried in the direction of the sound. He was sure it was the sound of the beach door closing. Perhaps Shego had just been out for a walk?

He turned the corner into the kitchen at the same time Shego jogged around the opposite corner. She stopped short with a gasp, clutching a large plastic grocery bag to her chest in the process.

"Oh!" she said, noticeably startled. Drakken took in her flushed face and the thin sheen of sweat across her brow. She wasn't dressed for a morning walk, but in her green and black suit. "You're up early."

Drakken looked at her in confusion. "Where were you?"

She glanced down at the bag in her hands, and then briefly away before bringing her eyes back to his.

"Getting watermelon?" she said and offered a grin.

He recognized it instantly as a very thin excuse, and he knew that she knew that he knew that. She sighed before he could speak and set her bag on the counter and then leaned over, revealing her shortness of breath for the first time.

"What is it? Did something happen? When did you go out?" Drakken said in a rush, moving to her side and looking her over carefully.

"This was supposed to be a surprise..." she said as she caught her breath, "for our villain anniversary."

Drakken's brow rose.

"But it took a lot longer to get than I thought, and...I wanted to get back in time to wrap it before you got up."

Drakken stared at the nondescript grocery bag that held a fairly large item, his curiosity suddenly aroused.

"You remembered," he said a bit distractedly, grinning nonetheless as he stared at the bag.

Shego reached up and lightly pushed his shoulder. "How could I forget the day we started working together? It was the start of the rest of my life."

Drakken grinned at her affectionately, and then remembered the breakfast tray.

"Oh, I...made you breakfast in bed," he said, pushing the tray toward her. His smile fell slightly when he saw that the perfect foam of the latte had collapsed, though the heart was still visible.

Shego straightened up and smiled. "Thanks."

They grinned at each other happily for a moment before Drakken's eyes fell back to the bag. "Ah...can I...?"

"Go ahead," Shego said, pulling the tray toward her and then cutting into the crepe with a fork.

Drakken opened up the bag and pulled out a very large and heavy plain black cube. His eyes lit up and he almost dropped the object as he leaned over the counter.

"Shego! Is this the neon transformer for the EMP jammer?"

Shego grinned and nodded as she took a bite of the crepe.

"Mmmm!" she hummed in surprise as she chewed the bite. "Is there vanilla in the whipped cream?"

Drakken was turning the transformer over in his hands, a mixture of delight and anticipation on his face.

"Hn? Oh, yes," he said, smiling at her briefly before looking back at the heavy cube. The last component for his EMP jammer... To destroy all electronic devices, and force the world to bow to him...

"Happy villain anniversary."

Drakken looked up as Shego licked some whipped cream from her fork, leaning forward on the counter and smiling in contentment. He set the transformer down and reached across the space between them to gently squeeze her shoulder.

"Happy villain anniversary," he echoed. "I can install this later this afternoon... Oh, it would be perfect if we can take over the world today! Then we can have a double anniversary!"

Shego continued eating the breakfast he'd prepared, grinning at him all the while as he rehashed the plan. He began pacing a small line in front of the counter as he rambled about the toppling of world governments through the sudden destruction of all computers, all cellular phones, all pagers, and anything else electronic that would be caught in the wake of his massive EMP jammer. He was delighted by how Shego's eyes never left his as he talked and she ate. The way her eyes sparkled as he described their takeover entranced him to the point of distraction. He stopped pacing and his words stilled as he found all he could do was smile at her.

A sound from the monitor on the counter drew both of their attention, and they looked at each other with a new focus. Drakken cleared his throat.

"I can take her while you finish breakfast," he suggested.

"Mmm. I want to shower too. And I'm going to need a nap, I got out of here pretty early."

Drakken grinned.

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

Shego had dressed in comfortable sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt after her shower and was watching Drakken thoughtfully as she took her hair down from where she'd pinned it up to keep from getting wet. Drakken was pacing next to the bed, holding their infant daughter who had stopped wailing but was making sounds of discomfort even as Drakken rubbed her back.

"I think she might fall asleep again..." he said, a slightly worried look on his face. Shego couldn't help but grin. He always appeared worried at the slightest hint of unhappiness from their tiny child. If she wasn't there to constantly assure him that all was well, he would probably worry himself to a point of madness.

"That's her hungry sound," Shego informed him calmly as she crossed the moat.

"It is?" Drakken asked, craning his neck to look at the baby's face.

"Mhm. You'll learn them eventually. Let me... Hm."

Shego considered a moment and then after shrugging just pulled her t-shirt off. She was tempted to throw the shirt at Drakken as a familiar fire suddenly rose in his eyes and a growl sounded from deep in his chest.

"Don't start. She's hungry."

Drakken's eyes returned to her face, and he met her in front of the bed to pass the baby to her. Shego started to sit down, but Drakken raised a hand.

"Wait," he said, and Shego turned and watched as he piled pillows against the headboard and then sat down against them. "Come here."

He spread his legs apart and patted the mattress between them. Shego lifted a single eyebrow as she gave him a thoughtful smile, and then moved to join him on the bed. She sat carefully between his legs and then leaned her back up against his chest. She started to position the baby to feed when Drakken's hand was suddenly on her stomach and sliding upward.

Shego turned her head to give him a look of reprimand, but it died at the playful look in his eyes.

"These are working breasts," she managed to say, barely keeping a straight face as she turned her attention back to the baby.

"I can't help it," Drakken said, though he kept his hand over her stomach and slowly felt back and forth across her middle. "Your skin is like...like rose petals."

Shego bit the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from getting too broad, and then moved all of her hair over one shoulder to cover her on the side the baby wasn't eating on. She carefully adjusted her hold on the baby and settled more comfortably against Drakken. A moment later, his arms moved under hers to cradle the baby along with her.

She turned her head to glance at him again, and their eyes met in a brief moment of shared wonder before they both looked down at their daughter again.

"She has your nose," Shego said after a moment.

"I wanted her to have your nose," Drakken sighed, "but...the Lipsky genes are strong."

"Sure are," Shego grinned. "I think she'll be taller than me someday. She'll have more of your build."

"You think so?"

"Yes. Look at how strong her shoulders are."

Drakken's jaw twitched. "I can't see them under those...watermelon pajamas."

Shego smirked and spoke her next words with exaggerated sweetness. "Aren't those just the cutest?"

"You hate me don't you."

Shego cackled softly, and Drakken fell silent. A moment later she moved her fingers apart slightly to allow his to mesh in between hers where they both cradled the baby's head gently.

"Never-mind her build. She has your eyes and mouth," Drakken said softly.

"Mhm. I think...her face is shaped like both of ours. A pretty balanced mix..."

Drakken leaned his head against Shego's as he sighed softly through his nose. Their daughter's eyes had been closed, but she opened them then and looked up at them. The deep blue orbs were curious as the baby looked up at her parents, as if to ask if they were talking about her. Shego almost looked up again as she heard Drakken's breath catch, but she was too full of joy seeing their daughter's eyes look back into hers.

"She's so beautiful..." Drakken breathed. "How did we do this..."

Shego smirked. "Don't tell me you forgot. We practice enough."

She felt Drakken's silent chuckles even as one of his hands moved to her waist and he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Move my hair?" she asked, as she felt it was time to switch the baby to the other side. Drakken lifted her hair and waited until the baby had been repositioned, and then gently lay the dark mane down over her other shoulder.

The baby's eyes closed as she began suckling again. Drakken's arms circled beneath the baby as before, and his fingers lightly brushed back the thin, soft black hairs on her head. Then he shifted and cleared his throat with a mildly annoyed sound.

"I still can't believe...you almost tricked me into giving her a name that means watermelon."

Shego laughed, her frame shaking as she leaned her head back against Drakken's shoulder. She laughed all the more after looking up at his face and seeing his concerned expression.

"No..." Shego said as her laughter calmed down, her smile broadening, "if you hadn't figured it out I would have told you before you got attached to it."

"Really?" Drakken asked.

"Of course. I don't want our daughter to resent me forever because I named her after a pregnancy craving."

The way Drakken pursed his lips made her chuckle again, and after a moment Drakken shook his head and began snickering. He set his head against hers as they laughed together, and after a long minute Drakken moved his hand to her middle to give her another squeeze.

Shego grinned at him and then looked back to the baby. Her eyes were still closed and her suckling had grown less intentional.

"Is she asleep?" Drakken asked.

"On her way," Shego said, settling against Drakken's chest more comfortably.

He turned and placed a long, soft kiss high on her cheek, and then rested his head against hers. Shego closed her eyes and hummed in happiness.

"Happy villain anniversary," she said softly.

"Happy...beginning of forever," he replied.

[trendmood1]

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[cake-writes]

Little Lies (Part Eight)

Pairings: Steve x Reader // Bucky x Reader // Slight Natasha x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Fluff, 18+

Summary: You went to Bucky when you wanted punishment. He’d be rough with you because he understood your self-loathing, and he’d leave bruises on your hips that wouldn’t go away for a week. You loved it. He didn’t.

You went to Steve when you wanted reassurance. You went to him because he liked to whisper sweet, sweet things into your ear as he made love to you. He’d tell you that you were perfect and amazing and beautiful. Then you’d get your fill, just far too much of it. He cared too much.

It all came to a head when the three of you went on a mission together. You’d done it a hundred times, even during this mess of a situation, and still neither of them was any the wiser. Your little lies always slipped right through the cracks - until one night, they didn’t.

Part Seven / Master List

October 2014

Steve had been to Italy once before, about seventy years prior, and it looked nothing like this. Instead of the leftover debris and destruction from the War, Tuscany was flourishing. The white sand beaches were clean, and the water was crystal clear, not mucked with blood and shrapnel like he’d once known it to be. On the rolling countryside were bustling vineyards, too many to count, and on the drive through you pointed out to him one in particular that had a wine with a lovely bouquet.  

He’d never been one for wine, but he thought the greenery was beautiful.

He thought that you were beautiful.

You liked to hum along to whatever tune was on the radio as he drove. Neither of you recognized most of the songs because the music was Italian – foreign – but he loved the sound of your voice, so happy and carefree. While he knew you got night terrors, he really believed that any other time you were alright. You seemed happy, at least, and when you smiled at him, it warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t felt since 1945.

Steve always drove when he was with you. He’d made a habit of it over the last year or so since you’d joined up with the Avengers. There wasn’t any real reason for it, other than that you liked it when he drove. You’d told him as much once – said so offhandedly that you trusted him to take care of you.

You’d only meant via transport, of course, but he took it to heart. He wanted to take care of you, and he did – on the battlefield and off of it. There was something about you he just couldn’t shake.

It became second nature for you to ride shotgun on missions. Every now and then, he’d relax his hand on the gear shift and his fingertips would brush against your thigh. It always made his heart race, but not as much as your casual offer to go to Italy.

You’d suggested it so naturally, so easily, like it just made sense to go on a weekend getaway – just you and him. Granted, it kind of did make sense; the two of you had an upcoming mission in France, and the commute back and forth from the States would have been exhausting. Jet lag still affected him despite the serum, let alone you.

It just made sense. It was a break from work. That was all. That was what he told himself.

You and Steve stayed in a small villa on the coast. Because it was so last minute and October was on the waning edge of peak season, it seemed like there was just the one available within the entire sleepy town; the two of you had already tried about a dozen places. The villa had just one bed, but you’d swiped your credit card and accepted the keys before he even had the chance to argue.

It was a studio: not much of a living room, because the king-sized bed took up the majority of the room and in his opinion, it looked rather dreary, really – until you gave him a knowing smile and pushed open the French doors to reveal a private beach.

Almost like you’d been here before.

The rest of that first day, you sunbathed on the beach while Steve put on an act that he was enjoying the weather – when he was really more focused on how beautiful you looked in the warm sunlight. The sunscreen and sweat made your skin glow, and the black and white striped swimsuit on your body accentuated your curves in such a way that made him struggle to keep his eyes above your shoulders. Of course, the large, floppy hat on your head helped matters a little.

The way you leaned against him to take a photo together was sweet and affectionate, and he couldn’t help but sling his arm around your shoulders. Because you couldn’t quite reach, you asked him to take the photo. It took a couple of tries because technology but he managed. Then you texted it to him and wrangled his phone from him to set it as your contact photo.

He didn’t mind at all.

That evening, you and Steve found yourselves laying on a blanket on the beach, looking up at the stars and nearly-full moon. His knuckles grazed the back of your hand, but you didn’t pull away. He didn’t have the courage to take the next step despite the fact that conversation flowed so freely between the two of you. You discussed all sorts of things, between favourite foods to worst fears, and neither of you were anything but honest.

“My greatest fear?” You sounded a little surprised at his question, and when he met your eyes, for the first time he caught a glimpse of how broken you were. Just a glimpse. Then you peered back up at the sky, focusing on nothing in particular. There was a lingering silence as you pondered his question, before you finally let out a slow, shaky breath and admitted, “I guess I just don’t want to be alone.”  

That was the very moment Steve fell in love with you.

Sometime later that night, his fingers intertwined with yours. It wasn’t sexual, but romantic. This job – this career – had a way of destroying one’s humanity and it was a small intimate gesture that both of you desperately needed.

It didn’t go any further than that.

You shared the bed because, although it wasn’t really proper, tonight you’d learned things about each other that you hadn’t told anyone before. When you lay your head on his chest, you didn’t say a thing, and he didn’t either. Instead, you let your guard down, and you fell asleep to the even sound of his beating heart and the feeling of him gently stroking your hair.

The next day, the two of you visited one of the vineyards, the one you’d pointed out on the way through. He mostly did it to appease you, but he loved the way your face lit up when you weaved your way back and forth in between the budding grape trees, almost like a dance.

The two of you were surrounded by nature: quiet, with just the chirping of the birds in the distance. You stumbled across a small clearing full of wildflowers, and by the time he found you there, you were already picking a bouquet. When he asked you why, you just smiled at him. It was a sad smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

You didn’t answer.

He plucked a single bloom from your bouquet and tucked it behind your ear. It was a simple gesture, really, but the prettiest flush came across your cheeks. Then you turned away, back to your bouquet, but you kept the flower behind your ear for the rest of the evening.  

He found you later out on the beach, barefoot and ankle-deep in the water. The hem of the long sundress you’d worn that morning to the vineyard was soaked through by the sea. You’d tossed your once-lovely bouquet into the water, the flowers and stems and petals surrounding you like some sort of water nymph – but then he caught a glimpse your tears.

Another glimpse. Another hint at who you were deep down.

“I’ll be in soon,” you promised, your voice cracking just a little.

He pretended not to notice, because you clearly didn’t want him to and not ten minutes later, you’d made your way back inside the little villa like nothing was out of the ordinary.

He didn’t pry.

You didn’t explain.

Instead, you bid him goodnight.

The two of you were woken well before sunrise for your next mission. Your pagers blared at the same time, rousing you from a sleepless night made tolerable only by Steve’s warmth. He woke just as quickly as you, or maybe he was already awake, too.

You had another nightmare that night, but he whispered sweet nothings to you that helped you back to sleep – sweet, gentle things that only a lover would say.

Once you crossed the border into France, neither of you again discussed the domestic bliss you’d shared in that little villa in Tuscany.

The honesty.

The intimacy.

At least not until the night that Bucky brought you back to them nearly two years later.

June 2016

When you woke, you were alone in an unfamiliar bedroom. It was similar to the suite that Tony had booked for the five of you, but not quite the same; maybe another hotel. Of course they would have relocated after they found out you were working for the cartel again. Their location was compromised because of you and, after you ignored their phone calls and messages, Tony may very well have disabled your phone, too. You’d never turned it back on to find out.

You were laying comfortably on a soft bed, but your hands were above your head, zip-tied to one of the metal rails of the headboard. Any other time you would have panicked, but you knew who brought you here and that knowledge had the opposite effect: it calmed you.

You could still feel the burn of Bucky’s fingers on your pulse. He quite literally had your life in his hands, and you trusted him with it. You trusted him. Part of you wondered if you were suicidal, and in some ways, you were. You hated yourself for everything you’d done – and the despite the fact that he should hate you, too, you knew he’d never hurt you.

That was when you heard heated voices start to raise in the adjacent room.

“We’re packing it in,” Tony said with finality. “We’re packing it in and taking her home. I shouldn’t have even asked her to help. I’m the one who dragged her back into—”

“It was her choice to go.” Steve sounded angry. “She killed people, Tony. We can’t just act like that didn’t happen. We can’t take her back, not without—”

“She was working an angle from the inside,” Bucky interrupted him, “or did you forget that?”

“She killed someone in cold blood tonight,” Steve argued. “You saw her, Buck. We all did. We can’t trust someone like that. We can’t.”

The way Steve’s voice cracked just slightly made you realize that he wasn’t just trying to convince them. You knew exactly why. He wasn’t just referring to what happened tonight, and that bothered you in a way that it shouldn’t have. You never used to care when you used him – and Bucky – so easily, but now, you were emotionally invested.

It got under your skin.

“I’m like that,” Natasha bit out, “and you trust me, don’t you?”

When no one responded, it all went quiet once again. You could only imagine that they’d all been sitting around the kitchen table, discussing you so casually like they would any other topic – but there was nothing casual about this conversation. It was heated and angry and even you could tell that Steve was using it to blow off steam.

You heard the sound of a chair screeching against tile, and then Steve’s voice followed, “I want to talk to her.”  

“That’s not a good idea,” Natasha warned. “You can talk to her after you’ve cooled off. Okay?”

There were another couple screeches from the other chairs, along with some clambering and Tony’s generous swearing – and then your door swung open with a particular amount of brute force that nearly knocked it off its hinges.

Steve was staring at you in a way that sent chills down your spine. Whether it was from fear or excitement, you weren’t sure, but even you could tell how angry he was.

“Steve, come on,” Natasha said, attempting to use her body as a barrier to the room. “It’s been a long day. It can wait.”

“No,” he responded, pushing his way past her. “It can’t.”

Then he slammed the door, locking it behind him. It was more a symbolic gesture than anything, because any of them could have picked the lock or just straight blown it off, but no one did.

You swallowed thickly. Steve’s presence was suddenly stifling, and you were defenseless – hands tied and no weapons, but this was Steve. You wouldn’t need them. Would you?

“Rogers,” you greeted, not nearly as evenly as you would have liked to sound.

Steve let out a long, slow breath, focusing on a particular spot of the plain white wall as he attempted to center his thoughts. It didn’t work. He’d had enough of the lies, the deceit. He hardly knew what was real and what wasn’t anymore when it came to you, and as much as that bothered him, what’s worse was that he wanted to know you – the real you – despite everything you’d done.

“Drop the act,” he ordered. “I’ve had enough of it. You lied to us.”

You lied to me.

“I didn’t lie.”

Steve said your name like a swear word, angry and bitter, and you noticeably flinched at it. “You’re still lying. You never stop, do you?”

That set you off. “If you recall, I was supposed to just be consulting—”

“Was that before or after you decided to murder someone?”

You groaned. “For fuck’s sake, Steve, I had to. If I didn’t, they would have been suspicious.”

“We don’t trade lives,” he told you coldly. “Even if they’re criminals, we don’t—”

“Says the guy who sacrificed himself to bury a plane full of bombs in the arctic—”

“Would it kill you to shut your god damn mouth and just listen to me for a minute? Christ!”

You’d seen Steve pissed off plenty of times before, but not quite like this. Even when he confronted you in that abandoned warehouse, he’d shown a little bit of restraint. He’d gripped that railing far too tightly, and you’d nearly fallen a couple stories down because of it – but now, he was absolutely on the brink of – well, something. You weren’t sure what.  

At his outburst, you couldn’t help but just stare at him, dumbfounded. It caught you off guard. 

When Steve saw that he finally had your full attention, he sank down on one side of the bed, burying his head in his hands. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and you wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort him, but you couldn’t because of your restraints. That was probably for the better.

His question was stupid and naïve, and he knew better, but he asked it anyway. His voice was almost inaudible. “Can I trust you?”

You still heard him plain as day and, for a moment, you didn’t respond. The pause was just long enough that he looked over at you, his eyes guarded and concerned and full of apprehension – a muddled blue. His hair was dishevelled from his anxious tendency to run his hands through it during times of high stress, and you felt the urge to comfort him even more.

Instead, you offered him that same smile you gave him in Tuscany, the one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Another lie. “No, Stevie. You can’t.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, then, and he was back on his feet in an instant. He didn’t spare you another glance even as he left the room, and you somehow managed to hold yourself together until he slammed the door behind him. The sharp sound of it suddenly triggered the hot tears streaming down your face, but you stayed silent. This was your burden to bear. You needed to handle it yourself.

By the time Tony checked on you some twenty minutes later, your perfect façade was back in place. You held your head high, just like always, and you joked with him about your zip ties. Tony finally released you from them because he had a soft spot for you, but it wasn’t just that.  No, your façade wasn’t perfect at all. He could see right through it.

The smeared mascara under your eyes was a clue, but your behaviour was a dead giveaway.

When you joined Steve, Bucky, and Natasha in the living room, they could see through it, too. You debriefed them on recent dealings in what you thought was a calculated, emotionless way, but it wasn’t. You didn’t notice the way your breath hitched in your throat when you recounted a murder or a shipment. You didn’t notice the anxious way you fidgeted with the blanket in your lap. You didn’t notice the pity in their eyes.

Even Bucky’s.

Even Steve’s.  

And later that night, you found yourself sneaking into Steve’s bedroom like you used to do once upon a time. It was inappropriate. It was ridiculous.

You didn’t want to be alone. 

He was wide awake this time. He heard the slight creak of his door opening, followed by your familiar footfalls on carpet; and then, when his sheets lifted, he finally glanced up at you, ready to turn you down, reject you, send you away like he should have done a hundred times before—

But the expression on your face was the most honest he’d ever seen from you. You’d been crying some more, and it wasn’t subtle like earlier. Your mascara was smeared down your cheeks, now, and your eyes were red-rimmed and teary. Even your nose was flushed.  

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I’m so sorry, Stevie. Can we just… Can we pretend that we’re in Tuscany? Just for tonight?”

You didn’t want sex. You wanted intimacy.

Steve was stunned speechless. Out of all the things you’d put him through, this may have been the worst. To use him for sex was one thing, but for intimacy—

It was selfish. He hated that part of you, that selfishness, but what he hated more was that he couldn’t say no to you.

You took his silence as an immediate rejection. “God, I’m so sorry, this was stupid, I shouldn’t have—”

Steve quickly caught your hand when you turned to leave. His voice was low and rough, not from sleep but from the late hour when he spoke, “Come here.”

You were hesitant and careful when you slid into bed next to him, not wanting to broach any boundaries. In response, he exasperatedly pulled your head against his chest and started to stroke your hair just like he used to do once – and for the first time, you let your walls down around him. As you cried into the soft fabric of his shirt, he held you close. 

Neither of you said another word that night. There were three in particular sitting on the tip of his tongue, and he barely had enough sense not to say them. You put the toxic in intoxicating and despite all the pain you’d put him – them –   through over the last few months, he just couldn’t resist you.

He loved you. 

What’s worse was that he knew Bucky loved you, too.

Part Nine