#actually I did i missed a few things in america like ice in our drinks

[lovelyspeedyprince]

Betokanae

(Takes place a few years after episode $(this is my alt ac since I got locked out!!:(

Chapter one ~in the living room~ Kanae was sitting on the couch chatting with Liszt whilst Chopin was with Pad kun and sosuke. Suddenly,the door slammed open and the person there yelled “Let’s get this party started” it was Tchaikovsky! “Did clasky klasky split up again-kanae? Tchaiko- temporarily and where is the 🍺, never mind that I brought my own. After taking a drink Tchaiko yells Guys isn’t Bach Sama so fineeeee!? ……… “Guess who’s right behind you said Liszt. I do love love thoo! It was akira ! Akira- how dare you say such true things about my Bach Sama. He is mine and mine alone. “Y’all aren’t dating tho “ everyone said in unsision. “I wish we were and also kanae, Bach said he would probably stop by to talk to you. Bye” Bye akira .😒 come back with Bach most likely next time said tchaiko. Then two people walked in the room from the kitchen. Girl can you wash our shirts? MozArt and Beeths were shirtless. “Y-y-you can’t walk around shirtless beeths San and motes. “Don’t you like our bodies kanae? I’m Gorgeous aren’t I he 😝 Then he noticed her staring at lud kuns body. “What does Beethoven body have that I don’t! Look at me kanaee.

Muscles 💪 she said almost drooling dang is she a simp that hard. No, she needed to be firm and a landlady not a simpinv girl like her friends. She didn’t have time for boys too she was gonna try out for the swimming league. Beeths blushed hard. Mozart looked dissatisfied and hurt she didn’t like him that way but then he said, it’s actually ok kanae I hope you datebbeeths since he likes you so much!😃. ~silence~ SENPAI!!!! Yelled Schubert. I MISSED YOU!!!!! LIFE Is BEAUTIFUL. With that Kanae snatched his baton and looked like she was having none of it. “The house is already in enough danger and needs repairs we don’t need more debt” “wait you weren’t here schu San?said Beethoven. “No senpai 🥲” I had got turned into a fish again when I was fishing for fish for you. Then I was washed of the shore and taken to Jamaica again and then I got taken by a kite to America. I even made some money there, but idk how since I don’t speak English. Then another kite took me Bach and dropped me off near Bach. He just gave me a ride. “Wasn’t he just here with Akita like not even five minutes ago said tchaiko” yea he’s still getting ready tho e hadn’t even left yet you guys can look!” Everyone (6 out of the 8 loids went to the door and to look) They all watched as Bach arosed from the car as handsome as ever. Damnnnnnnnn said tchaiko. He is fioneeeee!!! Hello kanae, said bach in the most respectful way. Good evening to everyone else. He looked at Beethoven trying to kick Schubert of his leg stil shirtless and now Mozart , still shirtless is riding his roller shoes. “Kanae embarrassed, said we can talk elsewhere and led Bach up the stairs. In her dads study, she gave him some of her dads things and then Beethoven heard a scream of kanaes. He’d never run faster in his life. He saw Kanae underneath a bookcase with Bach trying to lift it up. He got just enough that Beethoven and Mozart lifted it up. He was the first to bend down and ask if she was alright. “Girl are you alright , you had me so worried 😦.” I was affraid something worse happened. Thank god.” He was teary eyed. Then he suddenly picked her up bridal style and she gasped. And said beeths San! But she got used to his touch and liked it. They both blushed for a long time and Beethoven said he would take her to her room. He carried her and the way there was so silent for they were deep in thought about each other. When they arrived to her bed he bandaged her wounds and went to get her an ice pack. It was 4 o clock right now and Bach left and made sure to say if she was ok and when he got an answer he left partly happy, just sad he couldn’t prevent it. But, he did have akira to console him and she did a darn good job. Kanae- she wanted to rest and ev n Ludwig said she should just to relax. “I’ll leave you be now” just as he walked away he felt her hand tug his. NoO said Kanae weakly please stay and hold me. She cringed of embarrassment but he happily obliged. She was the little spoon and his body was so hot and warm and it felt so natural to both of them. After a short few minutes, kanae fell asleep in his muscular arms as he fell asleep holding her.

When they woke up, or rather abrubtly woke up the next morning at around 6:50 to Liszt saying how are you my kitten did you sleep well all said with a smirk on her face. Oh to be young and in love. Technically I’m still young in this body and I better make use of it good bye and have beethe take care of you! I’m going out with Cho chan. Tchaikovsky also left with Bach for a bit but she/he will be Bach soon.(lol) He ludwig, said kanae staring into Beethoven blue eyes (the animes depiction of his eyes) He said could you say that again? Ludwig? I like that kanae and you are free to call me that. I also have always preferred that name !🙂 saying beeths is a habit, but I’m sure to break it. “Hey kanae, this had me thinking. Could you go out with me? She was taken aback but since she had butterflies when with him, she happily accepted. “Yes Ludwig I will go out with you”!

Chapter 2- The date

Beethoven and Kanae planned the date a few days later on Saturday at a nearby restaurant. It was a Japanese and German cuisine that gave our free meals to couples on saturdays and you know they took advantage of that. Beethoven even laughed in kanaes ear and whispered. Don’t we look good together we sure sell it. He giggled. It is fate!! He yelled. All eyes were on them for a few moments and they then returned. Beethoven ordered German fries and Gyoza and Kanae ordered the same and with a desert of a milkshake with two straws. Kanae wanted to start talking so they brought up random things like favorite foods , colors and animals. Kanae expressed her missing Wagner and Dvorak’ and he expressed his dislike for the little brat Wagner. She could see where he was coming from to be honest but she still loved her “brother”. She got lost in his eyes and felt like kissing him but decided not to. She told him he was soo hot and funny, and lovesble, and gifted.(many other qualities too)and he said he liked how she was strong and independent , fearsome, and hot too when she was angry but she sometimes took on too much and that he would always be there for her. Tears welled in her eyes and she grabbed his hand. He blushed and gave her a warm smile. Where should we go next? It was around 3 so they went to the beach after shopping for a new outfit since they both needed one. She picked a cute orange two piece and he got red swim trunks. In the car, kanae decided to let Ludwig drive. On the way his body involuntarily put his hand on her thigh and she blushed but held it on there. Man was he smooth. The two frolicked about on the beach playing shark and Marco Polo and even got some food and shared an 🍦. They took turns licking it…. Kisses be like….. Out of knowwhete Liszt yells it’s love! And did her lil moaning music thing. And had everyone dance. The history books say Beethoven couldn’t dance on beet(heheh) but he was still a good dancer with Kanae. After it ended Beethoven kissed Kanae and they started making out where they were on the secluded side of the beach. He loved her and would make sure ti tell her soon. Liszt walke up with Chopin and Bach and Tchaikovsky and petty much everyone saying”I Won ThE BET! Two weeks ago we made the bet he’ll make a move and I won!! “Hey you used Musik tho that’s cheating” said bada. In that case I would like to announce me and akira are dating! Said Bach randomly. Who hoooo said everyone (Kanae and Beethoven still blushing and embarrassed) Then Tchaikovsky said damn it I missed my shot but bada, would you like to date me too? We’ve been together so long we are practically an old married couple. Sure but if you drink more no more claskey klasky again! And they kissed too. SO MucH LoVe Liszt said almost fainting. cHo ChAn Come Here and she hugged and kissed him. He blushed so hard and was murmuring stuff to himself. Well we are all couples now so how about y’all said Liszt ? Beethoven and Kanae said, you know what let’s give us a try! And they kissed once more. “bEETHoVeEn SeNpAi!!!! Help me Mozart is trying to kiss me and charm me over! I won’t be seduced by him please save me!! Stop groveling, and he probably likes you. Y’all are yin and Yang so perfect together said Beethoven. Like me and Kanae! She blushed and felt butterflies in her tummy.

To be continued……

[doyumacy]

ʜᴀᴇᴄʜᴀɴ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (fwb) pt. 2

ɢɪꜰ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍɪɴᴇ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴏʜʜɴʏ, ᴍᴀʀᴋ, ᴊᴇɴᴏ, ꜱɪᴄʜᴇɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇɴ. ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ. ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx.) ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏʀᴇ; ɴᴏꜱᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ, ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀʙᴏɴᴇ, ʜᴏꜱᴘɪᴛᴀʟ.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7,7k

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ʜᴇʀᴇ

Doghyuck doesn't call you the next day as it was expected. You are walking to your next class when you see him talking enthusiastically to a girl; she has her back leaning against the wall and he has one arm at the side of her head. You sigh and keep walking without being noticed by him.

You know Donghyuck and know the playboy he is. You know it might don't mean anything. Donghyuck is a flirty person by nature, and you can’t even begin to list the number of girls who’ve had their hearts broken by him. And yours might get added to that list.

You shake your head and enter the classroom placing your backpack on the floor. Someone sits next to you and you see Johnny. He smirks at you. “Hey, baby girl.”

Johnny is also a natural flirter, but not a player. You smile. “What’s up, Bravo?”

“Ha! Johnny Bravo,” he beams. “That’s a nice one.”

You shrug, smiling. “You know, my birthday is this weekend and you’re of course invited to the party.”

“I’ll be there,” you nod.

Johnny tilts his head in surprise. “Wait, really?”

You laugh. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“Because it normally would take me 5 hours to convince you to go…” he glances at you.

“That’s not t…” you frown. “Okay, maybe it’s true, but this time I really wanna go.”

He raises his hand and places it on your forehead. “Are you sick?”

You giggle and remove his hand. “I’m okay. I just need a distraction.”

“You okay?” He looks at you.

You sigh. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“You know, if you ever need to talk to someone about anything I’m here,” he smiles at you.

“I know, thank you.”

(...)

"Hey Soo," you call your roommate.

She turns to you, taking her headphones off. "Yes?"

"Can I borrow your white dress?" You ask.

She nods. "Sure, where are you going tho?"

"Johnny's party," you smile. "He invited me and I haven't gone shopping in months."

"Oh, then no. You can't borrow that one," she gets up from the bed walking to her wardrobe.

"Okay..." you frown.

"You better wear this instead," she pulls out a long-sleeved pink latex dress, with a deep neckline ending at the waistband enriched by a hexagonal buckle. Your mouth drops open. "Woah, that's so..."

"I know," she beams.

"Aren't I going to look like a dominatrix?" You laugh.

She giggles. "Of course not. You will look very hot."

"Fuck it," you say, grabbing the dress. "I'm gonna wear it."

“Donghyuck is gonna lose his shit,” Soo laughs

“Huh?” You look at her confused. “What do you mean?”

“I might be dumb but I’m not blind,” she smiles. “You always sneak out and the way you two look at each other pretty much say you two been fucking….”

You choke a whine. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” she pats your shoulder.

(...)

"Wow..." You sigh as you compare this amazing mansion to your house in your mind.

"Impressive, yes yes, whatever," Johnny grabs your hand, walking through the people inside the mansion.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You need a drink," Johnny smiles, "Goddamn, you look so hot tonight."

You fiddle with your hair and your necklace, hiding your face so he can't see you're blushing. "T-thanks."

When you enter the kitchen, all eyes are on you, or rather in your cleavage. You recognize a few people that are there and you greet them, smiling.  "My, my, aren't you pretty!" A boy practically sings, flipping his dark hair as he talks.

He's gorgeous. Johnny hands you a drink and you have a sip. "Ignore Yuta, he can't keep his hands to himself."

You giggle. "It's okay, I came because I wanna mingle."

Johnny tilts his head in surprise. "Weren't you dating Donghyuck?"

You almost choke on your drink. "What? W-where did you get that from?"

Johnny scratches the back of his neck. "Taeyong is Donghyuck's neighbor in the dorms and I once saw you, or heard you two doing things."

You blush and cover your face. "Oh, my God."

Johnny laughs at your reaction. "Taeyong didn't see you, don't worry. So, is your boyfriend coming?"

"He's not my boyfriend," you sigh. "We are... fuck buddies. We have been fucking our souls out."

"Nothing wrong with that," he quips.

You laugh. "It is when you catch feelings for him."

"Oh..." Johnny wiggles his eyebrows.

"Yup," you shake your head. "Whatever, I'm done. I can't keep doing it."

“Okay, lets go dance and hopefully I can introduce you to someone,” Johnny grabs your hand again, leaving the kitchen.

After Johnny and you dance a couple of songs, he invites you to play beer pong. You have one ball in one hand and a drink in the other, trying to land the damned thing in one of the red solo cups arranged across from you. You shoot and you miss, which you swear loudly at. Yuta, who is your partner, laughs. "You're the worst  beer pong player I've ever seen."

You groan. "Give me a minute."

After everyone shoots and misses, it's your turn again. You take the ball in your hand again and suddenly your sight gets lost in Donghyuck and the same girl he was flirting with days ago in the hallway. Is she his girlfriend? Was he fucking you and dating her? You wanna throw up.

You drop the ball and leave the dining table trying to find the closest bathroom. Someone grabs your arm, making you turn. It's Johnny. "Hey, you okay?"

"You invited him?" You give him a questioning look, almost angry.

"Who? Donghyuck? No!" He looks at you. "I did invite the girl he is with... she's in my marketing class. I didn't even know they were together."

You growl and yank yourself free. "I need a drink."

Johnny shakes his head in disagreement. "Come with me. I want you to introduce you to someone."

"I don't need more guys, Johnny!" You glance at him.

"He's not a guy, he's a man," he smiles, dragging you to the living room. "Hes our age, but hes everything but a guy."

"You sound whipped for him, you should date him instead," you mock him.

Johnny chuckles. "Not my type."

In a matter of seconds, you're in front of a 'man' with round eyes, small mouth, a lot of cheekbone. Small nose too, with a sort of endearing hint of crook at the bridge. Permanently surprised eyebrows, one half-hidden under black hair, styled back but for a curl coming down on the right side. He's truly beautiful.

"Hey Mark, this is y/n. y/n this is Mark Lee," Johnny smiles. "You both like ice cream and sushi. Mingle, bye!"

And Johnny disappears from the scene. You stare at Mark for a couple of seconds and then laugh. You scratch your forehead and you can tell Mark is trying to keep his eyes up from for cleavage. Nice.

There's an awkward silence until Mark breaks it. "I actually hate sushi. Anything raw."

You sigh in relief. "Me too. I hate it."

You both laugh again. "Anyway," Mark continues, "it's cool to like, actually meet you finally? Johnny talks about you a lot so I feel like I kinda know you already, haha."

"Oh really?" Which means Mark spends significant time around him. You wonder where.

"Yeah! I mean, I don't go to the same uni as you guys but we met when we were on an exchange program in America," he smiles.

"Oh that's great!" You smirk. "So you're the guy who kept him away from me when he was away?"

"I think I am? I apologize," he places a hand on his chest.

"You're forgiven," you sigh and he smiles.

Your favorite song Pour Up by Dean ft. Zico starts to play in the background and you look at him. "I love that song. You wanna go dance with me?"

"You kidding? That's my favorite song too," he grabs your hand walking to where the rest of the people are dancing.

It's not like you wanted to give Mark a lap dance, but the song is too sexy for not to do it (or maybe you did, but that is an advanced level of courage and you are not known for being a bold person). It's not like Donghyuck didn't see you with a stranger, dancing so closely and got jealous of him because that could be him.

Mark rotates his hips, running his hands up his sides and swaying. He glances over you, who are doing the same.

You roll your body provocatively, remembering just how tight the dress looks on your ass. The next move prompts him and you to face each other for a moment as you rise back up, rocking on your heels and swaying. He winks at you jokingly and you smirk.

Donghyuck finds the scene repulsive. He wants to drag you out of the house and beat the shit out of Mark. Who the hell did the guy think he is? Donghyuck gets pulled out his thoughts when his date grabs his arm. "Babe, I want another drink."

Donghyuck gives you a last glance and sighs turning to his date. "Let's go."

When the song's over, Mark and you step out of the crowded 'dance floor' and you lean against the wall. He stands next to you. "Uhm, did you hear he's having a concert next weekend?

You nod. "Yeah, I wanted to go but tickets got sold out."

He bites his lips. "I have an extra ticket, would you like to go with me?"

You look at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, you seem to enjoy his music and you're nice. And of course, I'd like to know you better," he smirks.

You beam. "Okay, I'd love to. Thank you, Mark."

Back in your dorm, you text Mark you've arrived safely and he wishes you a goodnight. You take off the dress and put on your pajamas.

Right when you're about to turn off the lights, you get a text message from Donghyuck.

𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛?

And just like that, minutes later you open the dorm door finding him on the other side of the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes then turn into slits as he glares at you.

“Had fun with your date?” He questions and you can see his jaw set: muscles clenching tight.

"I did," you reply.

Donghyuck gets inside your dorm and shuts the door behind him. He attaches his lips to your neck which draws a soft moan from you, he harshly sucking and peppering soft kisses on the expanse of the skin of your neck. His hands running at your sides smoothly and gradually getting closer to the underside of your breasts with each pass, when he finally cups your breasts you arch in his palms further pushing yourself closer to him. "Look at you, you're all needy by me just kissing your neck."

You want to slap him, but he's right. “Why can’t you understand that I am the only one who can make you feel this way?"

You taste the residue of vodka on his lips when he kisses you and walks to your bed without breaking the kiss.

You find yourself lying naked on your bed where you two have laid your back many times but he never stayed over the night. As he slips your pajama pants down your body, your eyes water and pools in your eyes ready to spill over. ‘This is the last time,’ you tell yourself. He discharges his clothes at the other side of the bed. You manage to swipe the tears that gathered in your eyes and look at him.

Placing himself over you, he is a sight to behold and you trace the line of his body with your eyes, caressing the dips on his collarbones and the line that leads down to his cock as his face coils into a smirk smug with the knowledge that he can turn you into a whimpering mess.

His thumb is drawing circles on your clit which make your moan and your pussy clench on nothing. You hate that he is the only one who can make you feel this way, reducing you into a pleading mess as you move your hips to the rhythm that he has set.

He inserts his length into you slowly, while you grip your sheets until your knuckles turn pale. He always feels good. So good.

He knows your body so well; putting the right pressure and hitting the spots that makes you throw your head back repeatedly, moaning. You can feel his quick thrusts and knows that he is near his climax. Donghyuck makes a sound at the back of his throat when he orgasms and you follow him when he falls.

He snuggles into your neck, trying to catch his breath again. You rest beneath him and hug him, placing kisses on his shoulder. "I came inside," he tells you, rolling next to you.

"I'm on the pill," you stare at the roof.

He nods. "I should go."

You laugh. Of course he has to go. He always has to go. "Whatever, lock the door when you leave."

You cover yourself with your sheets, turning on your back. He frowns as he gets dressed. "What's up with you these days?"

"What do you mean?" You turn to face him.

"You're acting... weird," Donghyuck shrugs.

You want to yell at him and tell him that you're over heels for him. That you love him. That you've been in love with him for a year and being cold to you only hurts you more and more.

You shake your head. "Just... go."

He finishes putting his clothes on and grabs his phone. "Is this too much for you? Us fucking?"

Yes. "No."

"Great, because we're supposed to have a great time," he leans closer to you and gives you a kiss. "You know where to find me."

You nod and right after he shuts the door, tears plops down your cheeks. He doesn't love you the way you love him. And he might never do. You hate him, but you even hate yourself more. You don't want to ever see him again.

(...)

“y/n! Mark's here!” You hear Too call you.

You smile, grabbing your jacket as you hurry out the door.

Mark is standing in the doorway and you draw closer, he smiles at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” You smile back taking in Mark's attire. He is dressed in black ripped skinny jeans, a white shirt and a denim jacket. “You look great.”

“You do too.” Mark offers you a charming grin, head tilted slightly to the side, “You always look great.”

“Oh he’s good.” You hear Soo murmur teasingly, “you two have fun.”

Mark flashes the tickets to the security guy at the entrance of the venue, the music is pumping in your ears and the flashing lights of the stage. A crowd has already found their seats.

You know how to maneuver through a crowd almost completely undetected. You seem completely in your element, the multi-colored lights dancing off your hair, as you two of them maneuver through the people. You finally find your seats and Mark sighs, relieved.

Minutes later, the artist finally gets on stage. You two are moving to the beat, the show is so good.

You catch yourself staring between songs, Mark is truly beautiful.

You're surprised when he glances over and notices you are mouthing the lyrics. He smiles watching you. "That's our song."

"Wanna dance with me again?"

"Definitely," he smirks.

You two dance to "Pour Up" again, grinding to each other. Mark feels good pressed against your back.

After the concert is done, you two stay still waiting for the rest of the people to leave the venue. Someone lets out a roar from somewhere on your left, a second later something collides with your face, hard enough to knock you more into Mark. Mark catches you before you end up face first on the floor. The second you gain your footing back, Mark turns towards the guy that hit you, furious.

“Watch it!” Mark's voice comes out harsh as the other concert attender snorts and waves him off. You feel something hot run down your face from your nose. You reach up your hand in time to catch a few drops of blood. You feel Mark shift his weight before tugging you through the crowd away from the stage, you try to follow your movements, having some difficulty with the daze of being hit.

Mark helps you over to a more secluded part of the venue. After a while Mark sets you down on a bench. You let out a groan as you raise your hand to your face, trying to keep the flow of blood from staining your clothes.

“Wait here.” Mark turns on his shoes and dashes across the venue. You look up to the roof, after some time you hear Mark's hurried footsteps behind you. He kneels next to you in the flow, handing you a handful of paper napkins for your nose.

“Thanks,” You murmur as you take the pile. Your blood easily soaks through the first few layers of paper before you get it under control. You try to pull your head back when you feel Mark's hand on the back of your head directing you forward.

“Lean forward, not back.” Mark directs as you do as told. After a few seconds you feel Mark's hand move down to your back, rubbing gentle circles as the two of you sit in silence. After a few minutes you feel the blood flow slow down.

“So, think my nose is broken?” You ask as you gently wipe the blood from your face.

“Nah, definitely not broken. You’re going to have one heck of a bruise though.” Mark warns. After a few seconds you feel something ice cold touch your cheek. You let out a surprised yelp as you lean away from the touch. You look over to see Mark handing you a cup with ice in it.

“Here, so it doesn’t swell.” You sit back up and take the cup with your free hand and gently press it on your face where you were struck.

“You’re… kinda good at this first-aid thing.”

“I've been playing hockey for years, you learn these type of things.” Mark scoffs. His eyes soften as you move the napkins from your nose, showing the bleeding has almost stopped. “Sorry you took an elbow to the face. I didn’t even see that guy come up to you.”

“Neither did I.” You admit as you pull the bloodied napkins away from your face, using one of the clean ones to clean any extra blood from your hands and face. “So, be honest, how bad does it look?”

“Like I said, you’ll be bruised tomorrow, but, it doesn’t look that bad.” Mark offers with a small smile. “The ice helped, at least your face isn’t swollen.”

“Thanks for the ice.” You offer as you look down at the cup of ice Mark had handed you, you frown a little when you see the logo on the side of the cup. “Did you…run all the way to the other side of the venue?”

“… Yes.”

“Thats-” Mark glances in the direction of the hallway, “At least two hundred meters away.”

“… Yes.”

“You ran.”

“…I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“You-” You can't help but break into a little laugh, “You, are trying to be modest about running across the arena just to get something for my nose and face.”

“You were bleeding,” Mark points out.

“Yeah, but I could’ve used my shirt or something. You didn’t have to run like…half a mile to get something for me.”

“I run on ice pretty much everyday" Mark scoffs, shaking his head at you. You smile, standing up and reaching out for Mark.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

Mark stares at you for a second before taking your hand. You pull him up and tug him along the arena, finding the exit. "So you say you play hockey?"

He nods, "Yeah. I'm the captain of the team," he smirks.

"No shit," you say.

Mark laughs. "What?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, "its just curious because my best friend is the captain of the hockey team in my uni."

"Cool, what's your friend's name?" He asks.

"Uhm Lee, Lee Donghyuck," you say.

He stops walking and he stares at you. "Dickhyuck is your best friend?"

You burst out laughing at the nickname he has given him. Oh boy, he indeed is a dick. "What did he do to you?"

"Sorry for the nickname, I was just shocked you're friends with him," he scratches the back of his neck. "He is an asshole."

"He is," you nod.

He cocks an eyebrow. "I thought you were friends."

"We are, and we might stop being friends. Long story," you sigh.

He nods. "So, uhm, next week is the playoffs, would you like to come?"

"Uhm yeah, of course. I just need to tell you that I know nothing about hockey." You giggle a bit.

"I'll explain anything you need to know," He beams at you.

(...)

𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝.

𝚆𝚑𝚢?

𝙸’𝚖 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚘?

𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.

White hot jealousy surges through Donghyuck as he reads your last text. Why is he jealous? He has no right to feel jealous when he has been clear to himself you're just his friend and his fuck-buddy. He's into Yujin, right?

He throws his phone to the bed and sits in front of his computer. Why is he so upset? Is it because he's horny and you're not around? Or is it because he likes you?

Bullshit.

He shakes his head, removing that thought. He is not in love with you.

Donghyuck stands up and goes to his bed unlocking his phone. He texts Jeno asking if he's busy, who replies back saying no. He needs a beer.

Donghyuck meets Jeno at the regular bar they used to go to. They're sitting next to the bar. Jeno stares at him and Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "What?"

"You're grumpier than usual, what's wrong?" Jeno inquires.

"Nothing," Donghyuck has a sip of his beer.

"Is it... maybe y/n?" Jeno hums.

Jeno is tired of it. It seems everyone around you knows that you two are in love, but apparently the two of you can't open your eyes. Or at least Donghyuck.

"No idea what you're talking about," Donghyuck murmurs.

Jeno sighs. "Why do you keep denying it?"

Donghyuck growls. "I'm not denying shit."

Jeno rolls his eyes and crosses his arms on his chest. "You have to be an idiot to not see the way you two look at each other. And the way you two... you know... shagging, you could say it's love. Real love."

"What are you on, Jeno?" Donghyuck glances at him.

"I'm sober, but thanks for your concern," Jeno smirks. "But you my friend, you are high off your ass on feelings."

"Shut up," Donghyuck groans and finishes his beer. He makes the waiter a signal to bring another one.

"Tell me I'm wrong," Jeno dares him.

Donghyuck stares at the beer bottle, thinking. Is Jeno right? Is he high off his ass on feelings for you?

He thinks of you: Donghyuck loves your hair and adores the way you raise your eyebrows when you're talking about something that excites you. Your lips fascinates him and the ease you have when speaking in front of many people seems incredible to him. His heart starts skipping a beat just of the thought of you: you have too much effect on him.

Shit.

Donghyuck is really in love with you.

(...)

Donghyuck sighs as he pulls off his helmet and wipes at his sweaty brow. The air is cold against his skin and he can see his hot breath. He is tired as the second period ends, he skates across the ice towards the exit. He has 5 minutes before the third period starts.

Donghyuck drinks water before sitting on the bench. The ice hockey arena is full, with both schools attending the game. He sees some people he knows, some of his friends: Jungwoo, Renjun, Yangyang and Jisung. Jeno is in the team with him.

Then his sight freezes on someone that looks like you. Donghyuck stares at her for a couple of seconds to later realize it's you. You're there with Johnny and someone he doesn't know.

He frowns. You hate hockey, what are you doing there?

He follows your face, smiling to someone and he curses when he sees who you're waving your hand off.

Fucking Mark Lee.

Of course he had seen his face before and the day of the party, when you were dancing with him he thought he had seen him before.

That's who you are dating.

Donghyuck feels sad, knowing that you never accepted to go to one of his games and there you are, cheering for someone else.

"I swear that girl looks like y/n," Jeno tells him.

"It's y/n," Donghyuck states, grabbing his helmet.

"Huh?" Jeno gives him a confused look.

"She's dating Mark."

“The Mark Lee we hate?” Jeno shakes his head. “That’s… unexpected.”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck puts on his helmet.

You would lie if you say you haven't been seeing Donghyuck. He's so smooth the ice, he moves as if he had been born on the ice. Then you would cheer for Mark's team even tho, deep down, you want Donghyuck's team to win.

Jeno chases the puck behind the back of the net. Shovels it out to Donghyuck, past the waiting stick Sicheng's stick. Donghyuck takes it up the ice, looking for an open. Ten shakes free of Mark, makes himself available. Donghyuck takes the open, approaching the blue line, passes the puck to Ten, but Mark takes the puck up the right—oh! And Donghyuck goes down hard! He deals out a devastating hit. There's a whistle. Oh, this is not good. He’s not getting up.

The entire bench is on their feet in an instant. Jeno has ripped his helmet off and skates over with as much speed as his bulky pads could muster, shooing away the circle of their concerned team mates.

Donghyuck hasn't moved since he has fallen, his limbs locked in the same position they had been just before the hit.

"Why is he not moving, Johnny?" You ask.

"I don't know," he states.

You leave your seat, almost running towards the ice rink. They don't let you in and you argue you need to make sure he is okay.

Jeno kneels beside Donghyuck, he can see that his dark eyes are unblinking, wide and blank.

“Come on, Hyuck breathe for me,” Jeno says insistently.

"Hyuck!" He hears you scream. "Hyuck!"

Donghyuck draws a few stuttering breaths as he slowly swims towards something resembling consciousness. It becomes readily apparent that he can't move his left arm. "Let her in."

"What?" Jeno frowns.

"y/n," Donghyuck tries to lean forward.

Jeno turns and sees you arguing with the security guard. "She can't get on the ice without skates, she could get hurt."

Donghyuck groans and watches the paramedics bring the backboard out.

“I can walk off,” Donghyuck slurs.

“Hell no, you're no—“

Jeno is interrupted as the crowd erupts all around them. Lifting his head quickly, he spots Mark and Sicheng throwing their gloves off and locking together. Helmets are ripped off, jerseys pulled and punches thrown wildly. Before Donghyuck can shout at his team partner, the cry from the crowd goes up again. Ten and Taeyong (a guy from Mark's team) separate them.

Donghyuck leans over the backboard as they prepare to carry him off the ice. "We're so doomed."

(...)

“A five minute penalty for interference and game misconduct? That’s a fucking disgrace,” Ten grouses.

“The board’s reviewing it. With a hit like that, he should get a harsher punishment,” Jeno adds.

“If he’s not suspended for the rest of the games, someone’s getting my stick shoved up their arse,” Sicheng says.

A murmur of agreement goes around the room.

“I thought the nurse said only three visitors at a time,” Donghyuck rasps, not bothering to try to lift his head. He can't even keep his eyes open. It makes the room spin. Everything seems… too loud. And the pain on his right collarbone is too much.

“Oh, so you are awake. Here we were all worrying about you and you’re faking,” Jeno says teasingly.

Donghyuck can't bring himself to rise to the bait. Keeping himself awake is hard enough work as it is.

“…Hyuck?” You call as you open the door slightly.  

The room is silent for a few moments and the guys look at you. Donghyuck opens his eyes and spots your head between the door. "Leave. Now." He's talking to his team mates.

Jeno, Sicheng and Ten leave the room. You say goodbye to them as they leave the room. You walk standing next to him and realize he's wearing a  triangular sling. "Hey."

"Hey," he greets. "Disappointed to know I didn't die?"

"Shut up," you look at him. "I was so worried."

"You pushed a security guard," he cocks an eyebrow at you.

You giggle. "He wouldn't let me in. I wanted to make sure you were okay,"  you place a hand on his.

"And I appreciate that, you could've gotten hurt," he takes your hand to his lips and places a soft kiss.

You sigh at the scene. "I don't care."

"I do," his eyes dart to you.

"Why don't you get some rest?" You sit next to him.

"I’m having surgery in a bit," he rests his hands interlocked with yours on his chest.

"What? Why?" You ask worried.

"Broken collarbone," he sighs.

"Oh, Hyuck," you lower your head sadly.

"I'll be fine," he squeezes your hand. "And I'll be right back in the ice to beat your boyfriend up."

"Mark's not my boyfriend," you say quickly. "And after today, I don't want to see him ever again."

"It was an accident; these things happen y/n."

"He knows about us, he heard me talking to Johnny about it today before the game," you don't look at him in the eye. "I’m sorry, Hyuck."

"Hey," he frees your hand and cups your face. "This isn't your fault, okay? Don't torture yourself, it's not your fault he couldn't handle it."

You nod. A nurse enters the room telling you they need to prepare him for surgery. You say goodbye to him and kiss his cheek.

"Just lay there, Hyuck," Jeno helps him to lay on his bed. He has been discharged from the hospital that morning and his friends are taking turns to take care of him.

"I'm so fucking high, dude," Hyuck laughs, squeezing his eyes. "What are on these meds? I feel like flying."

"Those are your painkillers, my friend," Jeno shakes his head, "enough of them for you today."

There's a knock on the door and Jeno walks to it. He opens it and he sees you with a bag of food. You smile. "Hi, Jeno."

"Hey, come in," he says.

You thank him and follow him. As you reach Donghyuck's room, Jeno stops. "Now, I should warn you, he’s pretty out of it,” he says.

“That’s fine,” You reply . “I think I can handle it."

He nods. "I have practice, I'll be back later, okay?"

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," you say.

You enter the room and you are greeted with the sight of Donghyuck reclining on his bed, looking a million miles away. You walk over to peer down at him.

“Hey Hyuck. How are you feeling?”

Jon tilts his head to look up at you. “y/n? Issat you?”

You smile. “Yeah, it’s me. Those pain meds did a number on you, huh?”

“I’m so happy to see you too,“ he says, smiling at you.

You beam wider, his dark eyes are unfocused but still shining brightly. It is unfair, how gorgeous his eyes are.

"Get some rest, Hyuck," you grab a blanket to tuck him.

He stares at you, looking a bit like a kicked puppy. “No! I wanna cuddle with you!”

"Okay okay," you say and you manage to get him tucked under the blankets. As soon as you're finished, you sit down and he rests his head on your chest.

"This is my favorite place," he states, tracing his fingers on your skin.

"Because my boobs are close to your face?" You mock him.

"Because I can hear your heart beating for me," he smiles.

You choke a sound. What is he saying?

"Cheesy," you mock him again.

"I love you."

You chuckle, nervously. "You're so high."

"I am high but I love you." He stares at you. "I fucking love you, y/n."

You press your lips together. "Let's talk about this when you're not high up on meds."

(...)

It's been two weeks since you have seen Donghyuck. Two weeks since he told you he loves you. You don't know if he is regretful for what he told you or he didn't mean it.

Of course your pride won't let you text him and you learn from Jeno he has gotten his stitches removed and he will be back in practice in 8 weeks since he has some recovery to do.

You're exiting the library when you feel someone grabs your hand. You turn to see who is there and you see Donghyuck smiling. "Hello, baby cheeks."

You cross your arms on your chest. "And finally the devil shows up."

"Devil? I'm hurt," he places a hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes and turn on your heels. He sighs and grabs your arm. "Okay, I deserve that. But hey, I want to talk with you." He says as he stands in front of you.

"About what?" You cock an eyebrow. “Or you wanna fuck me and don't talk to me for days?

He lowers his head. “No. I wanna talk about us.”

"We're not fucking," you state.

"We are not," he nods.

That is a lie. Back in his dorm, you two are kissing, desperately. You walk over towards the bed, still kissing. It's a soft loving kiss that makes your heart melt. His kiss is sweet, probably from something he ate, and slow. He breaks away to look at you, "I love you" he whispers.

"So do I" you say.

He smiles and goes in for another kiss, this time a little more fiery, it's still slow but now he's using his tongue to lick at your bottom lip, eyes fluttered closed.

You tug on his hair ever so slightly, you know he likes that. He moans quietly and you bite his lip. He gets on top of you, and you can start to feel the start of an erection on your leg.

At this point both your tongues are swirling together. He slowly brings his hand up from your waist, to under your breast and cups your breast with his, squeezing it, all while looking him directly in the eye. His erection feels stronger now. You push your knee upward to create some type of friction between him and your thigh and he groans.

Donghyuck plays with your nipple through your bra, right hand still gripping your waist, tight. He pinches and pulls your nipple in a way that causes you to roll your hips forward and moan his name.

He flips you over and now he's beneath you and you're sitting on his lap, feeling his cock in your clothed ass. You start to grind on his hips, the outline of his cock can be felt even through the layers of your clothing. You can feel the heat emanating from it and you can't help but rock your hips against his gently. “Look at me,” he orders.

You look at him, his pupils are dilated and his cheeks up to his neck and shoulders have the prettiest blush on it.

You are gripping the edge of his shirt, looking so utterly innocent. He dives for your next and start nipping, placing light bites and kisses as he abuses that one sensitive spot

“Hyuck please” you feel tickling sensations that feel really good. That gasses Donghyuck up because he loves nothing more than hearing your groans and moans.You feel the slight moisture gathering on your underwear.

“Use your words, baby. ,” he says while he continues sucking and licking on that sensitive part of your neck. His hands start wandering and are now placed on top of your breast, kneading and lightly brushing your erect nipples through your bra.

“Please,” you ground your hips on his growing erection. He answers back by gripping your exposed thighs, putting a stop to the teasing he did on your breast.

“Please what baby?” he teases. Donghyuck is doing little circles with his thumbs as he grips your thighs. You feel him smiling against your neck before he bites hard on the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You moan. “Please fuck me,” you finally answer.

“Why should i?” Donghyuck asks, very visibly teasing, letting his teeth run through your shoulder.

“Please, I'm so wet for you and I missed you so much. Please Hyuck."

Donghyuck has the audacity to chuckle. Remove my shirt then,” he challenges.

Obedient as you are, you hurriedly take off his shirt and start pressing bites and kisses on his exposed chest. You give a soft kiss on his scar where he had surgery weeks ago. He can't help but let out his groans of pleasure. His large hands are back on your chest, massaging your breasts through the fabric, gently running his hands through then and giving them a squeeze, the cycle repeats again. Then, with a little help from you, he unclasped your bra. You take it off. You kiss him again.

“Wait baby,” he starts, eyes scanning the expanse of your chest. “I want to eat you out." He finishes.

You nod at his proposal. You get off from his lap (your arousal slightly darkening a patch on his light jeans) and you lay on your back. Donghyuck goes in front of you and plops on his stomach. You are buzzing with anticipation as he spreads your legs open, hands caressing your thighs and ghosting over that area where you want it the most. Donghyuck lifts his head a little to admire you: breathing heavily, erect nipples and the undeniable arousal drenching your pink lace panties.

Donghyuck's arousal is straining through his sweatpants so he decides to discard it. He is left in his white, skin tight boxers with a faint outline of his dick. Then, he situates himself between your thighs. Instead of removing your panties, he decides to tease you a little through them, gently sliding his middle finger up and down your clothed wetness.

“So fucking wet, baby” he muses.

You bite your finger as he torturously drags his long finger up and down your clothed cunt.

“Ah shit,” you moan. "Fuck me good, Hyuck."

He pulls your underwear aside and starts dragging his finger on your cunt for real. He does small shallow thrusts and proceeds to drag his finger out. Donghyuck is doing this repeatedly almost in a torturous manner.

"Fuck, go faster,"

He doesn't go faster. Instead he situates himself between your legs and puts his tongue on your soaked cunt. You can't help but moan as he licks a stripe up while spreading your lips, maximizing the sensitivity you feel. You are gripping his sheets hard and moaning his name along with strings of “oh fuck, yes please”. He moves his mouth upwards and starts licking your clit, putting harsh but enjoyable pressure. Donghyuck proceeds to put a finger inside you slowly, up to his second knuckle, then another one,  drawing out a moan.

“Look at my fingers baby, so fucking wet.” he lifted his fingers up for you to see.

“I want more, faster, Hyuck, I’m going to cum.”

He smiles at you. “No. you’re not allowed to cum until I fuck you with my dick.”

You groan. You look at him and he is now kneeling, a hand situated on his now somewhat translucent boxers, outline of his dick now visible. He then strokes himself through his boxers as he stares right at you. Donghyuck is biting his lip softly as he takes out his dick and starts playing with the tip.

“You like it when I stroke myself while you watch, baby?” His eyes are hooded and he is already sweaty.

“Yes,” you said. “fuck yes.”

“Put it in your mouth,” Donghyuck motions for you to come closer.

You put his dick in your mouth and start engulfing his dick. His abdomen becomes taut as he groans and starts threading his hand on your hair.

“So good, baby. Always so good,” he rasps.

You continue hollowing your cheek and putting him in your mouth as deep as you can. You bob your head up and down and when you look up, Donghyuck looks absolutely

“Baby,” Donghyuck's voice is husky. “Baby stop, i want to cum inside you."

“Lie on your back,” Donghyuck commands as he strips himself of his boxers.

You waste no time and you lay on your back, waiting for his instructions. He props a pillow under your head and by doing so, you feel his erection on your thigh. He takes one last glance at you: nipples fully erect, cheeks flushed, your body sweaty, and your pussy absolutely drenched. He then starts inserting his dick in your aching pussy.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he chants. “you’re so fucking tight and wet.” Then he pushes himself up to the hilt.

“Full,” you whisper and meet his eyes, “so dman full.”

Donghyuck groans and starts thrusting at an erratic pace. It feels so full and hot that you can’t stop moaning his name over and over again. You can feel his cock slide in and out of your soaked cunt. He clasps his hands just above where your ribs end firmly as he starts fucking you faster, hips snapping up and you can’t help but arch your back.

Donghyuck is definitely enjoying the view and he reaches his hand out to pinch your nipples. You moan. You can definitely feel your impending orgasm.

“Hyuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum,” you look at him and his thrusts go harder. “oh god I’m gonna cum Donghyuck.”

“Cum, baby.” He puts his hand on your clit and starts rubbing with his thumb, hoping to bring you closer to orgasm.

You feel the coil getting tighter and hotter. Then you come, long and hard and your body feels like jelly.

"I'm almost there baby, fuck," he chants as he trusts so deliciously in you and your body can't take much longer. You know he has the full intention of overstimulating you and it feels good. His cock feels so raw in your pussy and you can't help but feel another orgasm.

The feeling of his cock sliding so smoothly inside of you then out then in again while your chests were in such close proximity and he is directly groaning in your ear. Donghyuck seems to be enjoying himself as his groans are becoming huskier and more prolonged as he told you, “Baby you’re so fucking tight, so tight around my cock.” He goes back to kissing you sloppily, your teeth biting his lower lip as he glares at you so menacingly and hot.

“Hyuck, baby I’m g-going to cum again.” you inform him as he lifts himself and wipes with drool on the edge of your mouth.

“Let’s cum together, eh?” he asks and you nod.

Donghyuck pulls out of you and you are about to protest until he speaks “Ass up for me baby,” he says.

Your body sings in anticipation as this is the first time, after a long while, he is going to take you from behind. You stuck your ass out and you feel him slap your cunt then insert his finger in your pussy and slaps your ass this time.

“Such a good girl for me,” he starts. then he suddenly thrust his dick inside your pussy and moans in your ear, “So fucking good.” Donghyuck then starts to grip your breasts from behind, pinching your nipples as his thrusts became more erratic.

“’Gonna cum, shit shit” He groans. The rhythmic slapping of your bodies is so sinful it turns him on.

You moan gripping his sheets, you can swear your knuckles are so white from the grip.

“I'm so close baby, so close.” Donghyuck is massaging your breast.

“Hyuck, please, Hyuck I'm so close.”

Donghyuck's thrusts are getting more erratic and you are positive that you’re going to cum soon. Then, you feel Donghyuck hugging you from behind. The act feels so intimate that you can't help but clench and then both of you are cumming. Donghyuck gives one last thrust then he pulls out. He look at your backside: his cum dripping out from your cunt, then to your thighs and that looks absolutely erotic.

“I'm gonna clean you up, okay baby?" He says, “Just lay there and I’ll take care of you.”

He goes to get towels and you lay on your back. He comes back and passes the small towel over your thighs and then your pussy carefully, knowing you're still sensitive. “Feeling okay?” he asks when he finishes it up, throwing the towel somewhere in the room and laying on the bed next to you.

You hum, smiling lazily at him. “just sleepy.” You reply and he moves to press a small kiss on your lips.

"Then sleep, baby," he surrounds you with his arms, you resting your head on his chest.

You raise your head a bit, looking at him. "Are you sleeping with me?"

He nods. His finger touches the tip of your nose and he smirks. “I never notice you had a mole here.” He says.

"Yeah, you're kind of a dick," you giggle, tracing his abdomen with your fingers.

"I am," he sighs. "I'm sorry. I was too selfish denying my feelings for you and thought behaving like a dick would push you away."

"And I almost did," he kisses the top of your head. "I'm sorry, y/n."

"It's okay," you say. "As long as you don't do it again because this time I'm gonna be the one breaking your other collarbone."

He laughs. "I'm not ever letting you go, baby. I love you."

"I love you."

[berrynarrybanana]

Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you! 

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here! 

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas. 

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty. 

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door. 

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten. 

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin. 

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground. 

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl. 

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.” 

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.” 

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry. 

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella. 

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again. 

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head. 

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted. 

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies. 

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it. 

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.” 

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug. 

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough. 

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug. 

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here. 

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say. 

**

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard. 

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep. 

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched. 

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame. 

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes. 

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue. 

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips. 

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears. 

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut. 

He was totally fucked for this girl. 

**

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs. 

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand. 

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew. 

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?” 

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.” 

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked. 

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.” 

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?” 

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-” 

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen. 

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was. 

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings. 

He had a crush on Stella. 

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her. 

**

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them. 

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them. 

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing. 

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said. 

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?” 

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked. 

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.” 

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly. 

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.” 

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips. 

“Why is that?” He asked. 

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella. 

Stay here with me forever. 

Love me. 

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind. 

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

**

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well. 

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit. 

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!” 

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!” 

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?” 

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back. 

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time. 

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.” 

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide. 

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.” 

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.” 

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching. 

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter. 

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s. 

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!” 

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest. 

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.” 

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

**

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.” 

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled. 

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted. 

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s. 

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.” 

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks. 

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago. 

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off. 

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door. 

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile. 

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest. 

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands. 

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode. 

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo. 

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.” 

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?” 

“Gemma-” 

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering. 

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry. 

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.” 

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.” 

[applejongho]

cherry on top | choi jongho

genre: fluff, realistic fiction, humor

character: starbucks employee!jongho

description: Jongho has an interesting run-in with a Karen during his shift at Starbucks.

word count: 2k

warnings: mild swearing

author’s note: jongho as a coffee barista was swimming in my mind for quite some time, so here he is. 

masterlist here!

There was something about that coffee stain on Jongho's employee shirt that made it impossible to get rid of. It was likely the mix of the ingredients that had stacked the receipt when it was printed, but Jongho couldn't help but feel she had somehow planned this as he scrubbed harder with bleach.

Jongho wouldn't have guessed the day to turn out as it did, but maybe he should have. Working with the public was always a gamble, but Jongho's optimism blinded him. Most customers were nice enough. Most customers gave a smile when he handed them their overpriced coffee. There weren't too many comments about his red and black hair, and he could shrug off all of them. The compliments were what he remembered.

The day started off normally - with Jongho's coworkers nudging him towards the mound of bagged coffee beans. "I could do it myself, but you just do it quicker, you know?" One of his coworkers had whined, twirling a piece of curly hair around her finger. "It" was picking up the bags of coffee beans to put into the grinder, and Jongho didn't mind it.  As he slung a bag over his shoulder with ease and glanced at her, he could swear her face flushed. Perhaps it was just the sun. The sun hit her face like that when he broke apples in half with his bare hands too. It was strange how the universe liked her like that.

After his bean tasks, Jongho took to the drive-thru of the coffee shop. He was told he had a nice voice, but he doubted he sounded that heavenly through a cheap speaker that hadn't been changed for five years. Nonetheless, Jongho enjoyed doing the drive-thru and taking orders. When there were multiple drive-thru lanes open, he would challenge his coworkers to see who could get through orders the fastest. This caused him and his coworkers to resent vans - vans almost always meant there was a large order - a sure loss, unless Jongho's fingers could learn to dance very quickly on the ordering screen.

Taking orders via the drive thru took up his morning, and then he was released for his lunch break. His coworkers had become accustomed to bringing him apples for the sole purpose of him to break them. He didn't mind, and it allowed him to be more comfortable with his coworkers because he could sometimes be shy. "Is that why part of your hair is red?" A coworker had asked him one day after he had broken multiple apples in a row. Jongho shook his head.

"No. Just red," he shrugged, ignoring his coworker's eyebrow raise. "I just like the color red." He thought he looked good with it.

But not everyone agreed - there were some customers that liked to point it out, like he had never seen himself in a reflection before. "You missed the roots," an older woman had told him at the register and gestured to his hair. Jongho added fifty cents to her order.

But for this day in particular, his hair was the reason for his downfall. For the latter half of the day, Jongho would be at the register. He yearned to be in the bar making drinks because it could become so mindless at points, but he was placed in front of the register before he could say anything. He assumed it was because he was the longest working employee out of the staff today, and Jongho vaguely remembered a newbie was working with him. He guessed the manager didn't want them at the register. The register wasn't much different than the drive thru, but there was something about actually seeing the customer or touching their cash or credit card that made it not enjoyable for Jongho.

About an hour into working at the register, Karen walked in. Jongho saw her and his stomach dropped. She looked exactly like a Karen should look: bobbed blonde hair with caramel highlights that were too dark, opaque and round sunglasses, an obnoxiously pink phone case, and a tacky red American flag shirt that said something about how America was blessed. Jongho knew he shouldn't judge people so quickly, but he had dealt with this breed of women before. He had to brace himself for the worst and the unexpected.

"Hello, ma'am," he said cheerfully when Karen got to the front of the line. Her dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, but she was clearly paying attention to her phone instead of him. She suddenly realized she was in Starbucks and lifted up her glasses. She took one look at Jongho's name tag.

"Hello, John," she said, and Jongho had to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise.

"Jongho," he said.

"John," she continued, and listed off her order, Jongho begrudgingly typing it in as she spoke. It's not that hard of a name, he thought to himself as he kept typing. Why was Karen's order so long? Jongho kept translating her vegan, dairy-free, blood-of-firstborn, extra-expresso venti iced coffee into the system until she stopped talking, and even then she wasn't done.

"So is everyone your age just dying their hair like that?" Karen said without prologue. "I'd never let my kid dye their hair like that. It's so unprofessional."

"Thank you," Jongho said, dodging the question and not wanting to provoke her. He hoped his cheeks weren't also red. "Here's your total. Cash or credit?"

Karen pulled out her purse, but not without clicking her tongue in annoyance. "You all really should lower the prices. It's too damn expensive."

Then make your own, Jongho wanted to reply, but he held his tongue. "I wish I could," he said with a smile. Karen frowned in return, and, without warning, dumped her entire coin bag onto the counter. Jongho yelped and scrambled to keep flying pennies and quarters from rolling off of the counter. In the corner of his eye, a coworker ogled Karen.

"I used the bills to buy my groceries, so I'll pay in coins," Karen yawned while Jongho threw himself onto the floor to make sure no coins had reached there. He got up, plastering on a fake smile. He hadn't had a customer like this in a long time, but if he could just get through her, everything would be okay. He reached for her quarters first and began counting dollars. He knew for a fact that his manager wouldn't have tolerated this kind of behavior from a customer, but Jongho knew he could be too soft at times. Besides, her jangling keys on her wrist glimmered and showed off their sharpness. He swore he saw her teeth glimmer as well.

"Hurry up," Karen said after a few seconds. "Count faster."

Jongho considered shoving pennies into her eyes. "Certainly," he said, and tried to pick up his pace. He could feel her eyes burning on his neck as he shoved the change into the cash register. He pushed her receipt over to her and eagerly began with the customer behind her, glad to be ridden of her.

But his escape was short lived. He heard a whine from the corner of the store and knew it was the Karen immediately. He was currently helping out a different customer, but there was no one else in line behind them. He'd deal with it after the customer if things escalated with Karen.

"Are you sure you made this correctly?" Karen snarled at Jongho's coworker, her nostrils flailing. The coworker looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "This doesn't taste like how it usually does. Make it again."

Jongho wouldn't have done anything - customers asked for drinks to be remade frequently. But this was Karen, and upon further inspection, this was the new employee that his manager had talked about. He couldn't leave her hanging, it would be rude as an older and more experienced employee. Jongho finished ringing up the final customer and went over to Karen and the other coworker.

"Cherry head," Karen growled, and Jongho only raised his eyebrows. That was a new one.

"I'll make a new one, ma'am, sorry," he said, taking the drink from her. "I'm sure you were fine," he muttered to the worried coworker and was pleased to see her smile.

Iced coffee wasn't difficult, and with the lack of new customers Jongho took the time to make sure the drink was entirely accurate. It's not that she deserved a drink, it's that he wanted her out of the store as soon as possible. He even had the temperature right, and gave it a perfect dairy-free whipped cream swirl at the top before handing it back to her.

Karen ogled the drink for a moment, looking back and forth at the cup and Jongho. Then she threw the drink at him.

The whipped cream top hit Jongho square in the face and he could taste it. Then came the slow and cold trickle of the coffee down his apron and shirt underneath, and at that moment, he was so glad she hadn't ordered anything hot.

"I said I didn't want whipped cream!" Karen bellowed, but Jongho's choir practice had made him desensitized to loud vocals. He wiped the whipped cream from his face and looked at Karen straight in the eyes.

"Get out," he said coldly. "There's a Dunkin across the parking lot. They can have your coins." He paused for a moment, and then his mouth twitched upward. "My name is John, you can write me up if you want. I don't care."

"I will be," Karen growled, red-faced and clutching her purse at her side like Jongho was going to reach out and nab it. he couldn't believe Karen thought that she was the victim here when Jongho had a new fluffy white beard adorning his face.

"John's right," a third coworker said, coming from behind. He could vaguely hear his laugh under his voice. "We don't tolerate harassment on our employees. You're the one that could end up in trouble."

Karen stared daggers at this new employee, and Jongho was surprised she didn't jump over the counter to tackle him. "Good riddance, I knew Starbucks was going downhill anyway." She gave one last snarl at Jongho, who fluffed up his hair at her glance, before walking out of the Starbucks.

The three employees were silent, and then Jongho felt a towel touch his arm. "Oh my God, Jongho, I'm sorry," the third coworker said.

"I don't think I've ever been drenched quite as much as I am now," he said, accepting the towel. He began to dry himself off as best he could, but he knew his face and clothes were going to be sticky for the remainder of the shift.

"I think there's another apron in the back," the new coworker said, and then scurried off to get it before Jongho could say anything.

"I'm just glad it wasn't her that got absolutely wrecked by coffee," the other coworker murmured. "I think she might have cried."

Jongho nodded, still drying himself off. It was a terrible feeling, the coffee all over his skin and clothes, but now that she was gone, he couldn't help but smile. It was comical, how insane the public could be. "I hope John gets hell for what he did," he smiled.

"Absolutely," the coworker agreed, laughing. The new coworker arrived back with the apron, which Jongho gratefully took.

"Give me a minute to clean up," he told the both of them before going to the back to inspect the wreckage on his clothes and face. It could have been better, but it also could have been worse. He licked a part of the whipped cream that was near his lips and grimaced at the flavor. Despite it all, Jongho was amused at the situation. It kept him on his toes. It would be a funny story to share at a party. Jongho wrote a note in his phone to re-dye his red tips when he got home. Then, smiling, he returned to work.

[calpalirwin]

35th Floor

Summary: You and Ashton run rival companies in the same building. 

Word count: 4.7k

And away, and away we go!

__

You checked the time on your watch as you rounded the corner, the tall building looming a mere fifty feet away. 8:45 am. Perfect. As you lifted your gaze, your lips curled into a sneer as you watched a man approaching you from the opposite street corner. His suit lay perfectly flat against his body, just tight enough to show off how well-muscled he was underneath the crisp ensemble. In one hand, he held a cell phone pressed to his ear, and even from the distance you could hear his sharp tone. “Where the blame lies is of little interest to me, unless the problem is not fixed by noon today. Because then I will become interested, and rest assured, you do not wish to see me interested. Are we at an understanding?” As the man waited for an answer, he took a sip of the iced coffee in his other hand. “Good. My office. Noon. Not a minute later.” 

He slid his phone into his jacket pocket, finally taking note of your appearance as you both walked up the steps to the building together. “Miss Y/L/N,” he greeted, a smirk on his lips as his fingers curled around one of the doors, pulling it open for you both.

“Mr. Irwin,” you responded icily, opening the other door for yourself. “I find that my employees are a lot more agreeable to do my bidding, and make less mistakes, when I don’t berate them before the work day has even begun,” you commented offhandedly as you both walked towards the elevator. 

“Bold statement from the woman who can’t let a gentleman hold the door for her,” was the quip as he hit the button to call the elevator.

“Bold of you to assume you’re a gentleman, Mr. Irwin.”

“It’s Ashton, Y/N. Surely the basic pleasantries are beyond us now.”

“I wouldn’t call what we do ‘pleasant,’ Mr. Irwin. You are barely tolerable at best, and at worst a thorn in my side.”

“And you, a thorn in mine.”

“Am I at least a sharp thorn?” you inquired with a small smirk of your own.

“The sharpest.”

“Hmm. Pity. You’re a rather dull thorn. I thought we’d at least be matched. But it is clear you hold me in much higher esteem than I hold you.”

“You wound me,” he deadpanned as the elevator finally dinged and the silver mirrored doors slid open.

“Careful not to bleed all over your suit,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator, quickly hitting the button for your floor and the “close door” button. “The dry cleaning must cost a fortune,” you mused as the doors started to close, faster than Ashton could join you, much to his startled shock and your glee.

~~~

Thanks to leaving Ashton waiting for another elevator, you didn’t see the man again until you stepped out for lunch. “Mr. Irwin,” you flashed him a smile as you found him in the small elevator waiting area of the 35th floor where both your businesses were located.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he replied with a curt nod. “Pleasant morning?” he continued before taking a sip from the coffee in his hand.

“Very,” you answered, wondering why he was asking and just how much coffee this man drank. Come to think of it, in the four years you’ve shared the same building, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him without a coffee in hand. So how he managed to be anything beyond constantly jittery was beyond you. “And yours?”

“Not nearly as much, I’m afraid. But, I’m hopeful my afternoon will prove to be better.”

“One can only hope,” you responded with a tight-lipped smile before tapping your foot impatiently. God, this elevator sure took its sweet time.

Sighing in his own agitation, Ashton reached across your shoulder to stab his index finger into the button. And promptly spilled his coffee down the front of your blouse in the process. “My apologies,” he ushered quickly. You were too busy gasping in shock as the coffee stain caused your blouse to cling to your skin, and the ice melting in your bra to tell if it was sincere or not. But you got your answer when he clicked his tongue, his eyes roaming your heaving chest. “The dry cleaning must cost a fortune,” he mused.

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ll be sure to send you the bill.”

“Can’t wait.” He flashed you a charming smile that had dimples indenting his cheeks. And before either of you could get in another word, the elevator arrived, taking Ashton with it.

Alone, you let out a small growl of rage, stamping your foot for good measure before stalking back down to your offices. “Whoa, what happened to you?” Michael, your business partner asked, his green eyes glinting with slight amusement.

“I’ll give you two guesses,” you hissed through your teeth, moving past him into your personal office, grateful the main floor was empty with everyone off to lunch. Better for only your most trusted companion to see you in such a state.

Michael whistled low, following after you, shutting the door behind him more out of habit than necessity. “Did you really not expect him to get you back after leaving him on the ground floor this morning?”

“Yes. But in a similar fashion. Like closing the doors on me when we leave today. Not dumping his coffee on me,” you griped. You moved over to the small closet you had in your office, selecting out a new blouse, thankful Michael had had the foresight to put in a closet just for moments like this. “Seriously,” you continued, peeling off the fabric still clinging to your skin, the camisole you had underneath just sporting a wet spot that you could easily cover. “Do you think he just has one cup of coffee he just keeps drinking throughout the day? Or is it actually a new coffee every time? How has his heart not jumped out of his chest from that much caffeine?”

“Maybe it’s decaf,” Michael suggested, coughing uncomfortably and studying the floor as you dabbed at the melted ice in your cleavage.”

“Oh, relax,” you scoffed as you discarded the tissues in a small wicker wastebasket before pulling on your new blouse, and doing up the buttons. “I’m wearing an undershirt. Plus it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“You’re still my boss,” he pointed out with a soft chuckle.

“Barely,” you laughed. “You're my business partner, not my employee, Mike.”

“Just your business partner? I thought what we had was special…” he pouted rolling his eyes playfully, earning another laugh from you. Michael Clifford was easily your best friend in the entire world. And if you were to have your choice of who to run a business with, you would pick him every time without hesitation. Because in addition to being your best friend, Michael was wicked smart, and had a personality that made it hard not to like the man. An important attribute that set him apart from the more cutthroat breed of businessmen. “So, what are we doing for lunch, boss lady?”

“That Italian place on Fifth?” you suggested.

“Yes!” he agreed, his mouth watering.

“Perfect. The dry cleaner's next door, so I can drop this off,” you said, gathering your things.

“You should send him the bill,” Michael told you as you walked back out of the offices. “But make them do like one of those fancy ass super cleaning of it. Like the super deluxe version at a carwash. But for your shirt. Really stick it to him.”

“I like where your mind’s at.”

Fate seemed to agree with the plan of sticking Ashton with your dry cleaning bill, as when you walked into the Italian restaurant, you found the man of the hour standing beside the pick up counter. His focus was on the phone in his hand, taking slow sips from the coffee that you were sure was just a permanent feature of his left hand, his eyebrows furrowed together, his lips a tight line of displeasure. But his head snapped to attention as he heard your voice rattle off your order, his scowl changing to a friendly look. “Y/N. Gorgeous top, love. Although I must say, I liked the other one better,” he said as he crossed over to you.

“If you love it so much, then you shouldn’t have a problem collecting it for me,” you smiled sweetly, pressing the clothing ticket in his chest.

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat as his hand curled around yours to grab at the scrap of paper. “It would be my pleasure,” he assured you, before releasing your hand.

Before you could think of a retort, one of the workers called out, “Order for Ashton.”

“That would be me,” Ashton smiled. “See you around, Y/N.”

“Okay…” Michael said after the man disappeared. “Remind me again why you hate him? Coffee incident aside. He doesn’t seem like that terrible of a guy.”

“It’s…” you started before blanking out. Why did you hate Ashton so much? After four years of holding disdain for him, it was hard to work out what had been the original offense that started the rivalry of the 35th floor. “He represents everything I hate about corporate America. He’s a male heading a company.”

“I’m a male heading a company in corporate America…” Michael pointed out. “Well… co-heading. As is Ashton. Calum Hood is as much his business partner as I’m yours.”

“Yes, but you never called me a secretary,” you remembered suddenly.

“Ashton called you a secretary?! When was this?”

You waved a hand in a dismissive fashion, not wanting to relive the memory that had crept up unwanted. “It must have been years ago. And it’s stupid for me to still be offended. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with being a secretary, mind you. You know I don’t think that way. But it was the insinuation that because I was a woman, I couldn’t possibly be interviewing for any other position.”

“Oh, shit… I always forget you interviewed with him before starting our company. But I didn’t realize that had been the reason.”

“I never got to the interview, actually. I got too mad and walked out.”

“And you never looked back,” Michael beamed proudly, trying to cheer you up.

“And I never looked back,” you agreed with a wide smile. “Best decision I ever made was storming out of his office.”

~~~

The next few days passed without incident. Whether it was just mere coincidence or divine intervention, you always managed to be just enough ahead or behind Ashton to avoid having to share an elevator without it being a confrontational power move of who could leave whom stranded and waiting.

On the eighth day of this happening, you began to wonder if Ashton was purposefully avoiding you as you always arrived and left the office at the same time day in and day out. The answer came in the form of a note on your desk after lunch. Mr. Irwin said he had a package delivered to his office that’s yours????

You poked your head out of your office, spotting your assistant at his desk. “Alejandro, did Mr. Irwin happen to mention what the package was?”

“No ma’am. Just that he wanted to know when you’d be by to pick it up. I asked if I could just stop by or if one of his associates could drop it off, but he seemed insistent that it was you who came to get it.”

You clicked your tongue in your cheek. That man… “Alright. Thank you, Alejandro.”

“Not a problem, ma’am. Oh! Also your 2:30 appointment was canceled. Thomas Fletcher. Didn’t give a reason.”

Your tongue clicked again in annoyance. Now your afternoon was completely free. A concept you didn’t like at all.

“You alright, ma’am?”

You forced a smile. “Just dandy,” you replied before taking a few quick steps to Michael’s office next door to yours. “Hey, Mike. Could I bother you for a quick sec?” you asked, rapping your knuckles against his open door before shutting it behind you.

“Course,” he said, rising from his desk chair. “What’s up? You look mad.”

“I’m gonna kill him…” you muttered darkly.

“What did Ashton do now?”

“I don’t know. But he has a ‘package’ for me,” you said, using finger quotes. “And he can’t be bothered to send an associate to send it over, nor will he accept any of mine retrieving it. He’s requesting that I come specifically. And my appointment for this afternoon magically canceled itself. They were so adamant on seeing me as soon as possible yesterday that I shifted things around to be accommodating, and then they canceled. And the name they gave too. Thomas Fletcher? Something’s not adding up. And I’ll bet it’s Ashton’s doing.”

Michael scratched at his jawline in thought. “Hmm… maybe it’s an olive branch. Inviting you over to clear the air, make a truce.”

You scoffed. “Please. What does Ashton know about making peace?”

Michael laughed. “So, you going over there?”

“God, no! If he wants me to be the recipient of whatever this package is personally, he can come here. If he thinks I’m coming to him, he’s sorely mistaken.”

“So go tell him that.”

“I will!” you stated, before retreating out of Michael’s office and back into yours. You took a brief pause to collect the anger coursing through you before picking up your phone and dialing.

“Irwin Industries, how may I direct your call?” a receptionist asked on the second ring.

“Put me through to Ashton directly, please.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“He’ll know.”

“Uh… yes ma’am…” was the confused reply before the line trilled again as you were connected to what you hoped was Ashton himself.

One ring. Two. Three. He was testing your patience. Four, then finally, “This is Ashton.”

“A package?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N. I was hoping this was you. My schedule is a bit cramped this afternoon, but I’m certain I can set aside a few moments for you. What time works for you?”

“You know, it’s complimentary to drop the package off at the right offices if it’s not yours. Not ask the recipient to come collect.”

“Hmm…” he mulled it over, drawing it out. “That would require more of my time… But I suppose I could manage to drop by, yes. Are you available at 2:30?”

“Funnily enough, I am actually.”

“My, that’s quite the coincidence. I’ll see you at 2:30 then.”

“Bring my package, Ashton.”

“Wouldn’t dream of coming without it, darling.”

If you could, you would have ripped your phone from its cords and thrown it right at him, but something told you that might be deemed unprofessional. You settled for a quiet scream instead. And then, you straightened your jacket and set to work. If Ashton was dropping by, you were going to make sure this was the most pristine set of offices he’d ever seen.

~~~

At 2:30 on the nose, the door to your offices opened to reveal Ashton in a black blazer over a red button up with white polka dots on it. The bright red of the shirt with the top buttons undone revealing part of his chest matched the red he had dyed his hair. You hated the perfectly slicked back red locks fit him just as much as his natural brown curls did. He had everything he could possibly want in life that it seemed to be a grave injustice that he could also pull off any hair color. God had favorites and Ashton was one of them, of that you were certain.

From your hidden-from-view vantage point (peeking through your blinds out at the main floor), you watched as Ashton talked in hushed tones to your receptionist before nodding. As he walked confidently amongst the cubicles, you rushed back to sit at your desk, trying your best to look busy. “Hello,” you heard Ashton greeted politely. “I’m here to see Miss Y/L/N. Is she in?”

“Mr. Irwin,” Alejandro gulped. “Let me see if she’s free. I’ll only be a moment,” Alejandro lied for you, and you smiled proudly. There was a reason you’d chosen him for your assistant. There was a knock on your door before it opened to reveal Alejandro. “Miss, a Mr. Irwin is here to see you.”

“Send him in, thank you,” you nodded, rising from your chair and smoothing out your skirt, your hands feeling clammy.

“Of course, miss. Mr. Irwin, she can see you now.”

Alejandro got replaced by Ashton filling your doorway and what appeared to be a dry cleaning garment bag he held over his shoulder by the crook of his index finger. “Miss Y/L/N,” Ashton said, stepping forward to offer you the bag. “I believe this is yours.”

“Oh!” you said in surprise, a wave of shame washing over you. Maybe Michael had been right after all… You came out from behind your desk to shut your office door. “Thank you,” you added as you then took the bag from him, and sure enough, your blouse from last week was there. You moved about the room again to place your blouse on the surface of your desk before turning around to return your attention to Ashton who had taken up residence squarely between the two chairs you had set up before your desk. A standing meeting. How pleasant… Hopefully that meant this would be quick.

“Of course. And again, my sincerest apologies. It actually was an accident. And since I’m apologizing, I might as well apologize for your meeting getting canceled this afternoon. That may or may not have been my doing. Rest assured, it was a joke appointment. Lovely office by the way. I remember what it used to look like before you got here. Was a dump. And you made it… not that way.”

“I thought the name Thomas Fletcher was familiar,” you admitted with a sly smile. “And thank you, again. Both for the blouse and the compliment.”

“Of course. I, uh… Forgive me for asking, but have I done something to offend you? Either now or in the past?”

“Do you seriously not remember?” you questioned, swallowing the hypocrisy that was you having forgotten yourself until only last week. But the memory had resurfaced, and with it your red hot anger on the matter.

“No, I don’t believe I do…”

“You called me a secretary!” you hissed.

~~~

You smoothed down the front of your skirt, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before pushing open the door to the offices. Telephones rang and people typed away at keyboards. You could see a row of private offices, and a large conference room behind the layout maze of cubicles. But your first focus was the wide wooden desk marked “Reception” with the words “Irwin Industries” on the wall behind the desk in a golden calligraphy script. You had the sinking feeling of being underqualified for the job you were interviewing for, but quickly shook away that feeling. If Ashton Irwin himself had chosen you to interview with out of countless other candidates, there had to be a reason. “Hello,” you smiled at the receptionist. “I’m here for an interview. Y/N Y/L/N.”

The receptionist barely looked at you as they typed in the information. “Yes, he’ll be out shortly.”

“Thank you,” you said, still smiling. Maybe they were just busy. No telling how many interviews they had to keep track of. Curt professionalism over amiable politeness. A willing sacrifice you yourself were just as guilty of every now and then.

The sound of shoes purposefully towards you had you glancing your head towards the sound. The man was uncuffing the sleeves of his white button down, rolling them up his strong forearms. A stubborn curl of brown lay flat across his forehead, and when he raised a finger to push it back with the rest, it fell right back into place. “You must be here for the secretary position. I’m Ashton, I’ll be conducting your interview this morning. If you’ll follow me,” he said, not even bothering to come to a full stop as he started turning around to walk back the way he’d just come from.

“I-” you started, anger coursing through your entire body, warming you from head to toe. A secretary?! Surely if he had the gall to schedule and conduct the interviews himself, he had the character to keep them straight. And the assumption that you were here to interview for the secretary position based on what?! That you were a woman?! Ashton Irwin, you decided in that moment, was everything wrong with corporate America. Which perhaps was too bold a statement for him to bear the weight of alone, but perhaps it was his fault for not checking his callousness at the door. You cleared your throat, not following after him. When he turned, arching an eyebrow in silent question, you shook your head. “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake, Mr. Irwin. I- Apologies for wasting your time. Best of luck to the other candidates.”

As you made your exit, you caught sight of a sign on the offices across the hallway from Irwin Industries that read “For Lease” in big red letters. Pulling out your phone, you quickly dialed your closest friend. “Hey, Y/N!” Michael chirped, “How’d the interview go?!”

“Were you serious about starting a business with me?”

“That bad, huh?”

~~~

“I-” Ashton stammered, the memory as fresh in his mind now as it was yours. “I hadn’t meant it in a rude way,” he went to amend.

“No, you meant it in an assuming way,” you corrected. “Which is far worse. Do you know how many men I’ve dealt with who made that same assumption in the course of my career? Or the fact that I sign all my emails with my partner’s signature along with it so I don’t have to waste precious time proving my worth before I land a client? I have to make sure my credentials look far more impressive than the ones hanging on your wall, because I have to work twice as hard to prove myself to you and everyone else to even attempt at leveling the playing field! And the fact that you, or any man, would dare assume-”

“I didn’t assume,” Ashton cut you off. “I made a mistake. One that I didn’t realize until you had already left. One I didn’t get the chance to apologize for because y- because I found it difficult to find a way to contact you. Until you moved in across the hall a few weeks later, and by then I figured it was too little too late. And that is where I made mistake number two, apparently.”

You blinked, your attack stuck in your throat at his interruption and subsequent confession. “I- Sorry?”

He rolled his eyes as he gave a soft chuckle. “I made a mistake, Y/N. That morning… I had a million other things on my mind, and had been interviewing actual secretaries all morning. And I didn’t realize my error until I looked at your file in my office. Your credentials and resume had impressed me beyond anything I’d ever seen, and honestly the interview was just meant to be a formality because I had already made up my mind about offering you the job. But in my rush, I clumped you in a category that was well beneath your skill set. And believe me, that is a reflection of a frazzled brain, and not my actual opinion of women.”

“I’ve held a grudge against you for four year because of an oversight?” you questioned out loud. This had to be a dream. A very bad, terrible dream. How much time had you wasted hating a man who turned out to not be deserving of your hatred at all?

He giggled, a boyish sound that shocked you. “It would appear so, yes. But, I suppose that’s on me for not clearing the air sooner. Although,” he said, his voice taking on a low rasp that sent good shivers down your spine. “Perhaps it’s for the best that things worked out the way they did. Otherwise we would have run the risk of becoming HR’s worst nightmare.”

You gulped, taking a stumbling step backwards, your hand landing hard on the top of your desk to steady yourself. “Y-you do?” you gasped.

“Mhm,” he said, taking a step forward, his hand landing on top of yours, engulfing it entirely. “I’ve always held a deep admiration for women in positions of power. Much respect, too.” The words were hot on your neck as they filtered in your ears slowly.

You let out a small moan without meaning to, as your eyes fluttered shut. “Well,” you answered airly, your breathing growing heavy. “I’d be happy to reconsider my own opinion of you. If you don’t have other engagements, that is.”

“Hmm, I’d have to check my calendar…” he teased.

“Mmm, yes of course. And I, mine.”

“Hmm…” He peered over your shoulder at the calendar that was upside down at his angle. “Would you look at that,” he marveled before his hands were hot on your hips as he lifted you to sit on the desk, sending your sparse decor-- a placard with your name engraved on it, a steel cup filled with pens, your freshly returned blouse, and the aforementioned desk calendar-- skittering across the desk. “My afternoon just cleared up.”

“Mine did too,” you answered, hooking your finger down the front of his shirt to pull him closer to you, but you only ended up undoing more buttons. But it didn’t matter. Ashton got the memo as his lips crashed into yours, hot and needy.

~~~

Two Years Later

You checked the time on your watch as you rounded the corner, the tall building looming a mere fifty feet away. 8:45 am. Perfect. As you lifted your gaze, your lips curled into a smile as you watched a man walking towards you from the other street corner. His suit lay perfectly flat against his body, just tight enough to show off how well-muscled he was underneath the crisp ensemble. In one hand, he held a cell phone pressed to his ear, and even from the distance you could hear his sharp tone. “How many times do we need to go over this? I am unreachable between 2:30 and 3:15. I have an appointment at that time at which I am not to be disturbed from.” As the man waited for an answer, he managed to take a sip from one of the iced coffees he held balanced on a take out tray in his other hand. “No, Miss Y/L/N is not to be bothered during that time either. Find another associate to schedule them with-- perhaps Mr. Clifford, or Mr. Hood-- or tell the client they need to make themselves available at a different time of day. Thank you.”

He slid his phone into his jacket pocket, finally taking note of your appearance as you both walked up the steps to the building together. “Miss Y/L/N,” he greeted, a smirk on his lips as his fingers curled around one of the doors, pulling it open for you both.

“Mr. Irwin,” you smiled back, plucking the other iced coffee from the tray and taking a deep sip. “I find that my employees are a lot more agreeable to do my bidding, and make less mistakes, when I don’t berate them before the work day has even begun,” you commented offhandedly as you both walked towards the elevator.

“Now, pray tell, where have I heard that one before?” he pondered aloud with a bemused look as he hit the button to call the elevator.

“Probably from the smartest woman to ever grace you with her presence.”

“Yes, that must be it,” he agreed as the elevator dinged and the silver mirrored doors opened. “After you,” he gestured, sticking out his arm to hold the doors open. “But, please, don’t leave me behind this time.”

With a giggle, you wrapped your fingers around the knot of his tie, pulling you into the elevator with you, and kissed him the whole ride up to the combined offices of Irwin Y/L/N Corporate on the 35th floor.

__

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[abarbaricyalp]

I looooved what you wrote for my first prompt!! I have another if you're down :D

How about Bucky starts talking about how hot/sweet/great he thinks Sam is in another language (not knowing Sam speaks it) but using an insulting tone so it wouldn't sound like he was complimenting him (possibly during an undercover mission, where Sam can't react to what he is saying) until Bucky goes on a "tirade" but really getting pretty graphic about what he wants to do to Sam or wants Sam to do to him, causing Sam to spit take or choke on his drink before Bucky catches on that he can understand and just dies on the inside until they finish the mission and Sam can respond <3 <3

Thanks again, Friend!

Always taking prompts <3

(never) Lost in Translation

Read on AO3

“Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,” Bucky breathed into the cold air as he curled his fingers around the stock of his rifle and shifted his hips against the rooftop. “То робостью, то ревностью томим; Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно--” [I loved you hopelessly and mutely, Now with shyness, now with jealousy being vexed; I loved you so sincerely, so fondly--"I Loved You" by Alexander Pushkin]

“Huh?” Sam asked on the other end of the comm line.

“Just trying to stay awake, Wilson,” Bucky answered. “Maybe you can sit out here and give your mouth frostbite.”

“Give it another hour or so and I’ll warm you back up, Barnes,” Sam promised and Bucky could hear the smile in his voice, which was enough to stave off the chill for a while longer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know who made a nest of jackets and my mom’s blanket next to my hospital bed?” Sam asked at two in the morning when Bucky slunk back into the hospital room and the mess he’d turned the two small chairs next to the bed into.

Bucky considered continuing to sulk in the shadows in silence. But it was the first time Sam was awake in nineteen hours and he was pretty fucking sick of the quiet at this point. “Sarah brought the blanket,” he said. He leaned forward to reach for Sam’s hand, curling his fingers around the bandages and splints gently.

“Yeah, but I know Sarah’s not sleeping in my room. It can’t have been so long that you felt the need to move in, man.”

“I’m not moved in ,” Bucky defended. “Just didn’t know how long it would be. And it’s fucking cold in this building.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Sam tried to shift in the bed and let out a gasp of pain.

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to move too much. Figured you could work that one out on your own, with that big ass cast around your ribs,” Bucky said. But his brow was drawn in in worry and he brought his other hand to Sam’s hip, arching it gently over the thin fabric of the gown.

Sam relaxed back into the bed as much as he could. “I hate sleeping on my back,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ll be sure they accommodate that next time your ribs are sticking out of your skin.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe a little,” Bucky agreed. “You’re gonna have to get over it though. You need to rest.”

“I’ve been asleep for a day,” Sam said. “Come on, can’t you believe I miss you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that at all. And you can’t miss me anymore than I miss you. I’m the conscious one.”

Sam preened and then his eyes drifted shut. Bucky squeezed his hand gently and began to hum under his breath until the flickering of Sam’s eyes settled down. “Que ce soit dimanche ou lundi / Soir ou matin minuit midi /Dans l'enfer ou le paradis /Les amours aux amours ressemblent /C'était hier que je t'ai dit /Nous dormirons ensemble,” he sang softly. Sam let out a soft breath and finally fell asleep. [ Whether it be Sunday Monday/ Evening ,morning, midnight, midday / Whether it be in hell, in paradise, /Love-affairs look like each other. /I said to you just Yesterday: /We shall sleep together. "Nous Dormions Ensemble" "We'll Sleep Together" Louis Aragon]

“I told you to cover Torres on the left!” Sam shouted as he landed heavily on the rubble of the street.

                                                                                       “أنت تعني الكثير بالنسبة لي” Bucky bit back. “You were in more trouble than he was. I told you to get out of the air.” [You mean so much to me]

 “I’m sorry,” Sam snorted. “Are you leading this mission? Are you Captain America all of a sudden?”

                                                                           “أنت تجعلني أريد أن أكون رجلاً أفضل” Bucky muttered. “I’ve always been the one with the brain cells when Captain America’s around.” [ You make me want to be a better man.]

 “For what it’s worth, guys, I’m fine,” Torres said. “Caught the bad guys. Didn’t get eaten. Alls well that ends well. Unless this is, like, foreplay or something for you two. In which case, I want to get back to the jet before you keep going.”

“Shut up, Torres,” Bucky snapped. “There’s a---thing behind you,” he added, exhausted and confused about what it was exactly that they were fighting. Torres turned around, too slowly, to stare at the limping creature of some underwater origin and Sam ripped the shield from his back to fling at the monster. With a squelch and a groan, it toppled over and the shield bounced back to Sam’s arm.

                                                                                           “إنك في غاية الجمال” Bucky breathed and rubbed his human hand over his face, smearing ash and sweat until it stung his eyes. “Torres, do an aerial scan for stragglers. Wilson and I’ll survey damage down here.” [ You’re so beautiful]

 “Oh, no, Wilson . You’re in trouble,” Torres laughed. He clapped Sam’s shoulder as he walked past and then shot into the sky when the area was clear enough to.

“You’re too hard on him,” Sam said as he started to kick over blocks of asphalt. “He’s a trained soldier, y’know. He’s not some helpless kid.”

 Bucky snorted and kneeled down to run his metal hand through a puddle of water on the ground, watching silver ripple across the current.                                                                  “مائة قلب لن يكونوا كافيين لحمل كل حبي لك” he said, and then, “He was never trained for those wings.” [ A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you.]

 “He helped build those wings. He trained with Exo-Skeletons. The wings are in perfectly capable hands.”

“Make sure clean up takes samples of the water,” Bucky said. “I think there are organisms in there,” he said as he stood up and wiped his hand on his pants.

“How hard did you just have to work, after Torres put foreplay in your head, to not say orgasms?” Sam teased, shooting an easy, if slightly bloody grin, at Bucky.

                                                                                “أنت إشراقة شمسي يا حبي” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Let’s get home. You obviously have a concussion.” [ You are my sunshine, my love.]

 “Hey, just ‘cause I’m funnier than you and know your depraved mind well enough to say something like that doesn’t make me damaged,” Sam said, jogging to catch up with Bucky.

“Does he talk?” villain-du-jour asked, appraising what was supposed to be the Winter Soldier but was really just Bucky bored out of his skull.

“If you want him to,” Torres said with a shrug. “Most people don’t.”

“See,” Sam said in Bucky’s earpiece. “I told you he’d kill this.”

And, unfortunately, Torres really was killing it. Torres seemed to be afflicted with the same dramatic streak that Steve had, in that Steve was everyone’s best-friend-ray-of-sunshine until shit got real. Or the mission required him to play some shady underworld super-assassin dealer, apparently.

“I heard he malfunctioned with Zemo,” unidentified baddie said cautiously. “I heard the programming had been washed out.”

Torres reached over to cuff Bucky against the back of the head. “Does he look deprogrammed? Do you think I’d be standing here if he was deprogrammed?”

Bucky had to fight not to let a glare slide over to Torres. He kept his eyes and his grimace set straight ahead. He’d feel better if there was a rifle in his hands.

“It’s not my fault Baron Zemo didn’t have the balls to control the Soldier. I assume that won’t be a problem for you. But, hey, I could be wrong. In which case, I’ll just take him back. Putting him on ice is easier the less time he’s out.”

“I’m glad he never decides to be such a shit with me,” Sam said. The bad guy said something else and Bucky fully tuned it out. “Hey, Barnes,” Sam said in his ear. “What’re you wearing?” he teased. Bucky’s jaw jumped. “One day, we’re gonna see how quickly I can get all that tac-gear off of you. Or maybe just the top half. The rest of you looks damn good in black.”

Bucky bit the side of his tongue, listened to the asshole across the room talk about not being able to communicate to lapsed partners since he only spoke English, about wanting to send a message, about how many languages the Soldier knew and if he talked while breaking bones.

“Do you think we do better undressing each other on the jet or off of it. Sure, there’s turbulence, but we also have all that adrenaline pushing us on. Besides, I know you like things hard. You wouldn’t like me so much if you didn’t.”

“Soldier?” Torres said at his side. “A sample of your voice.”

“ I’m gonna throw my partner across that table as soon as we kick all your asses ,” he said in Russian. “ He gets pretty fucking quiet when he’s getting dicked down well. It’s actually the only time he shuts up. ”

The hapless moron across the room looked delighted. “What about French?”

“ You’d think getting him down on his knees would work better but it never has for me. He’s always gotta have the last word in edgewise. Lengthwise, as it may be. No fuckin’ hair to grab onto either. You’ve just gotta listen to him .”

“Spanish?”

“ Probably won’t stop in here. I’ll drag him back to our jet and do it all over again. Or let him do it to me. I’m really not picky when it comes to him. Especially not when he’s wearing the uniform he is right now. I like getting it off of him as much as I like how it looks on him .”

“ Damn, dude, I speak Spanish ,” Torres hissed back in Spanish. “ Spare my ears, please .”

The arms-idiot grinned like a kid on Christmas. “Yeah, that’ll do. Your money’s in here,” he said, sliding a briefcase across the floor.

“Ready?” Sam asked in the ear piece.

“ We never speak of it again ,” Bucky said to Torres. “ If you tell him, I’ll drop your ass in Siberia. ”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Torres said, gesturing over to the other man. Bucky went and got them, Sam coming down through a skylight and Torres taking care of the guards behind them.

“I was thinking about getting my own place down here,” Sam said. “Even if it’s just a one bedroom or something. You know, for when Buck’s here too.”

“Tu vas bouleverser les garçons,” Sarah answered. [You'll upset the boys]

“Huh?” Bucky asked, looking up from toying with a remote control airplane that had an unfortunate run-in with a tree.

“They’re still not in French classes?” Sam asked. “Isn’t AJ old enough?”

“He’s taking Spanish instead.”

“Traitor,” Sam said easily. “Cela n'a pas besoin d'être codé.” [This doesn't need to be encoded]

“Votre vie sexuelle fait.” [Your sex life does]

“Ha! Comme si.” [Ha! As if]

“Wait, you two know French?” Bucky asked. The airplane had been thoroughly forgotten.

“Sure, it’s one of two languages offered at our high school,” Sarah said. “Sam was obsessed with learning Creole so not only did he take French, he took AP French. And scored a five on the test. Hey, aren’t you a polyglot, technically?”

“What?” Bucky asked as dawning horror unleashed a flood of embarrassment through him. And, well, a bunch of other feelings too, which would require French to say aloud, apparently. He packed those away.

“I don’t know if there are qualifications, but I speak a few languages,” Sam agreed and he finally looked over at Bucky with a smirk. “English, French. A little Spanish. The Air Force gave us Russian lessons. I picked up Arabic overseas.”

Fuck, Bucky though. Merde. Maldita sea. Черт побери.

“He absorbs languages like a sponge,” Sarah said to Bucky. “AJ is pretty similar,” she added towards Sam. “His teacher says he’s the best in the class.”

“Of course he is,” Sam said. “He’s a Wilson.”

A timer went off and Sarah muttered lightly under her breath. “I’ve got to run and grab Cass from school. Can you stay here and get AJ off the bus?” she asked, already grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

“Bye, Sarah,” Bucky called after her before rounding on Sam as the door shut.

“Hey, you never asked,” Sam defended, leaning back against the counter. “And it never sounded like you wanted an answer when you were serenading me in French. Gotta wonder why you’ve got Russian poetry memorized though--Hey!” Sam yelped as Bucky crossed the living room to the kitchen and stood between his legs, hands on either side of his body on the counter.

“Ты должен был сказать мне раньше,” he breathed. Sam shivered against him. [You should have told me sooner]

“Pourquoi?” he asked, like he was in any way innocent. [Why?]

Bucky brushed his mouth along Sam’s neck, felt his pulse jump at the contact. “Tu sais ce que ça me fait,” he murmured. [You know what it does to me]

“Languages?” Sam asked as his hand found the small of Bucky’s back and then the rest of his spine, up to his shoulders, the seam of his metal arm, his ribs.

“You showin’ off,” Bucky corrected.

Sam hummed because he did know that. “It was more fun to watch you think you were getting away with something. You get real sweet when you think I can’t hear.”

Bucky nipped at his collarbone and Sam gasped out a breath, almost let it convince him to leave Bucky there, but eventually pushed him away. “I was serious about getting our own place. I will never emotionally recover if one of the kids walks in on me making out with you. I’m supposed to be typifying standards.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pinched Sam’s side. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but a smart one,” Sam said with a grin. “Which is apparently your type.

And, dammit, it was.

“By the way,” he added, “Clint taught me ASL, so I know what you tell him about me too.”

Bucky groaned and threw himself back over the couch.

[honeypiehotchner]

Where do broken hearts go? -- Bucky Barnes x Reader one shot

But Kay. Don’t you have an essay due Wednesday that you haven’t started? Shhh. Enjoy this Bucky Barnes angst to fluff one shot. Based purely on this picture. You’re welcome.

Summary: You and Bucky used to date, but once the honeymoon phase died down, things took a turn for the worse. Now, months later, your roommate finally manages to get you out to a bar. Only for you to run into some dumbass wearing a tiara.

“This is exactly what you need, Y/N,” your best friend, Jada, tugs on your arm. She’s been trying to get you out of bed for the past hour and she has had no luck whatsoever.

“What I need is to finish this show.” You twist your arm out of her grip, shoveling another fistful of popcorn into your mouth. You’re finally at the good part in this episode, and you’ll be damned if you let Jada ruin it for you.

“Okay, I can’t watch you like this.” Jada grabs the remote and turns the TV off, which is then followed by loud protesting from you.

“What the fuck! I was watching that!”

“You can finish it later,” Jada mutters, tossing the remote to the side. “Listen, it’s been months. Literal months. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to get back out there.”

“Make it later,” you reply curtly. “Hand me the remote.”

“No.”

“Jada, I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Every time you say you can’t, I just hear excuses,” your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m not asking you to go out and fall in love again. I’m just asking you, as your best friend and roommate of five years, to please come get drinks with me. I miss going out to the bars and pretending to be waiting for a date. And getting sympathy drinks when our nonexistent dates don’t show. Come on, please?”

You chew on your lower lip. You have to admit, you do miss doing that. It’s been longer than months since you and Jada have enacted that master plan. It was a normal thing before you had a boyfriend and after the two of you broke up, you haven’t been back to a bar to even try.

“Fine,” you mumble. “But only because you know I can’t turn down pity drinks.”

“Yes! Thank you! Okay, you have to wear this new outfit I got you--”

“Were you planning this?”

“...no.”

“Whatever,” you smile, missing this rush of adrenaline. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

+++

The bar is crowded. But what bar isn’t?

You can’t help but get the sense, though, that this is more crowded than the usual Saturday night. Or maybe it really has been a long time since you were out of the apartment.

When you and your boyfriend -- none other than Bucky Barnes, the famous Winter Soldier and best friend to Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain America, both heartthrobs to the universe -- broke things off a few months ago, your desire to go anywhere that wasn’t work-related had left your body. And since work for you consists of sitting on the couch with your laptop, that meant your desire to leave the apartment was nowhere to be seen.

The only times -- and they were few and far between -- that Jada would manage to get you out would be for food. Groceries or dinner, but that was it. No bars. No “having fun” as Jada would put it, even though you have plenty of fun. Netflix is fun. Comedy specials are fun.

As you and Jada score the last two stools at the bar, you send her a wary glance. You definitely didn’t miss this atmosphere.

It was one thing to play the game to your advantage, but when you haven’t played in so long, it’s terrifying. You’re out of practice entirely.

And the crowd certainly isn’t helping. You don’t remember it ever being this packed. How is this not a violation of the fire code or something?

“Relax,” Jada yells over the commotion. “You look like you’re going to hurl.”

“I might,” you joke, but you’re not going to. You know when you’re about to throw up, and that’s not the feeling you have right now.

When you and Bucky ended, it wasn’t because he cheated. And it wasn’t because you cheated, either. Everything was smooth sailing. It was all so...easy with Bucky. Which doesn’t make sense, you know, because Bucky is a literal block of ice sometimes. Even more so than Steve at times.

But Bucky was tender with you. You had wormed your way right into his heart not knowing he was doing the exact same to you. It was effortless. No pushing, no pulling. Just smooth. Exactly how love should be.

Then, the honeymoon phase ended.

Bucky started going on missions again. You started spending more time back at the apartment because of this -- which Jada was at least thankful for; she missed having you around. But with you and Bucky separated, it meant you weren’t talking as much.

Granted, he wasn’t available during missions. And you understood that. You also understood that when he came back, he needed his space. No offense to you, and it has nothing to do with you -- or anyone else for that matter. He just needs space. That’s just Bucky.

But he took your willingness to give him space as something else entirely.

You didn’t break up because you cheated. The accusation itself was thrown around more than once.

He accused you of it on nights when all you had been doing was watching some shitty Netflix drama on the couch with Jada. And on nights when you had been working nonstop.

After the second time, you told him that if he didn’t trust you at all, then maybe it meant things weren’t working anymore.

Bucky realized his mistake. You saw it in his eyes when he realized it. But you were too fed up with his games to even bother forgiving him then.

You slammed the door on your way out. And sent every call of his to voicemail. When you were worried you might have to block him, he stopped calling.

The two of you haven’t spoken since.

Have you thought about him? Every second of every day.

“Don’t hate me for telling you this,” Jada leans over so she isn’t yelling as much. “But I think I might’ve just seen Tony Stark.”

Your eyes go wide. “What?”

Jada discretely nods over to where the crowd has been all night. “But it could just be someone who looks like him. A creepy cosplayer. You never know.”

“It better be.” You don’t know that you can handle seeing Bucky. Not when you haven’t spoken since the breakup.

The bartender brings you a refill with a sad smile. Sympathy drink number one.

Some idle chatter flows between you, Jada, and the random guy sitting beside your best friend. He’s the classic just-got-his-heart-broken kind of guy, so you can empathize with that. He’s cute, too, and you silently cheer when he rests his hand on your roommate’s arm.

Jada’s eyes catch on something over your shoulder and you freeze, staring at her. “What?”

“Cutie staring at you.”

“Huh?”

“A cutie. Is staring. At you.”

You chuckle, deciding to play your cards. You look over your shoulder with a smile. What you don’t expect is for your gaze to fall right to Bucky Barnes.

“Fuck,” you hiss, turning back around.

Jada gives you a strange look. “What now?”

“That’s Bucky.”

Jada looks again, disbelieving. “No, that’s-- holy shit, he cut his hair.”

Yeah, he cut his hair. It looks fucking good on him, too, the shorter length. You kept trying to get him to entertain the idea of cutting it when you were together, but he wouldn’t budge. You didn’t totally mind because you did like his long hair. But the pictures you saw of him from the ‘40s? No wonder all the girls swooned over him. You fell in love with his long hair, but one look at him from the ‘40s had you falling all over again.

Just like right now. You can feel it. You know he’s still looking at you. And damnit, you want to look, too. But it’s a bad idea.

Apparently, the idea isn’t bad enough to stop you. Because you look again.

You snicker quietly to yourself as you take him in. His hair is shorter, yes, but he’s got a tiara sitting on the top of his head. The sight of that alone has you grinning. What dumbass bet did he lose?

You get a little too carried away with making eyes at Bucky across the room because then you’re spotted by none other than Tony Stark, and all hell breaks loose.

“Y/N!” You’d hear Tony’s voice from a mile away if he tried hard enough. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Hi Tony,” you reply, watching as the poor guy next to you is promptly shoved off the stool by a somewhat tipsy Tony Stark. “How much have you had?”

“Not nearly enough to be okay with seeing you and Barnes have eye sex.”

“Tony!” You smack his arm. “Knock it off. I was just laughing at the crown on princess’s head.”

Tony grins wide. “There’s that fire. We’ve missed you.”

“Sure,” you shake your head, sipping your drink. Next to you, Jada is giving you a look of sheer disbelief. “Tony you’re scaring my best friend.”

“Best friend!” Tony exclaims, looking over at her. “Both of you, come join our party! More the merrier!”

“You’re drunk off your ass.”

“Not yet,” Tony winks. “Come on, Barnes wants to see you anyway.”

“No,” you stay put. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh, give it up,” Tony yells. “He’s been moping around my goddamn tower for months, please go have sex with him or something to make it stop--”

You don’t have time for another protest before Bucky comes up next to you, pushing Tony away. Bucky Barnes. Taking every chance he can get to save the day.

Your ex slides easily into the stool. You look to your right for help from Jada only to find she’s fully facing and flirting with the guy beside her. You’re stuck.

Bucky waves down the bartender and asks for two beers.

“You’re gonna drink two? Seriously?” It’s a weak jab, but you don’t know what else to do. You’ve had speeches made up in your head for months, what you’d say when you saw him again, but they were all in scenarios where you weren’t in a loud ass bar.

“Actually,” Bucky takes both bottles in his hand, sliding one toward you. “I got one of them for you.”

If it wasn’t your favorite kind, you would’ve poured it on his stupid tiara. “Thanks.”

“Come on,” Bucky nods, standing from the stool.

“What?”

“Let’s get away from the bar,” he says. “Too many people.”

“Fine,” you huff, ignoring his hand that is stretched out to help you down. You try to walk with more than an inch between you two, but it’s so crowded that when Bucky grabs lightly onto your arm, you let him.

Suddenly, the crowd opens up, and you realize it’s because Tony Stark -- of course -- has rented and blocked off one section of the place, forcing everyone else to crowd around the bar.

You ignore the weird glances coming from the other Avengers that haven’t seen your face in months. One, in particular, is Steve.

Bucky finds an open booth and slides in, waiting for you to do the same. You do, but you keep your distance. He accepts defeat, leaning onto his arms on the table, beer bottle in one hand.

“Nice tiara,” you comment, not looking at him. “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles, shaking his head until the plastic crown falls into his hands. He sets it down on the table, running his fingers through his hair, messing it up. You want to fix it so badly, but you leave it alone. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” A lie. “How’ve you been?”

“Awful.”

You turn your head to look at him, not expecting that answer. “Okay…”

“Y/N, I’m…” Bucky pauses, grabbing a fistful of his hair and letting go. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” you mutter, picking at the label on the side of the bottle. “What made you come to this revelation?”

Bucky’s lips stretch into a smile. “I miss that.”

“What?”

“Your wit,” he replies. “Your ability to call me on my bullshit.”

“I shouldn’t have to be there to call out your bullshit.”

He frowns. “I know.”

“What are you doing?” You blurt. “Whatever you’re trying to do.”

“I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

“Then just say it,” you almost laugh. He’s being ridiculous. “Stop trying to-- To drag me back in. Just say you’re sorry so I can go.”

“I don’t want you to go, that’s the thing,” Bucky pleads. “I’m sorry, doll, I’ve been so stupid. I am stupid and I don’t blame you one bit if you get up and leave right now, but I’m asking you to please, don’t go.”

“Why?” You murmur, surprised he can even hear you.

“Because I’m miserable without you. And every day I think of how I would change things if I could--”

“You can’t.”

“But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

You stare hard at the bottle in your hands. If you had even an ounce of Bucky’s strength, the glass would be a shattered mess all over the table.

“Please, baby,” Bucky scoots closer, knowing he’s testing his luck. But what else does he have left to do? “Let me love you right this time.”

Slowly, because you can’t believe he’s telling you all that you ever wanted to hear, you look up at him, tears in your eyes. One slides down your cheek and he wipes it away, hand cradling your jaw.

You shake your head. “I can’t do this again, Buck.”

He frowns deeply, his hand slipping away. His eyes lower themselves to his lap, accepting his defeat once more.

“So you better not break my fucking heart this time.”

His gaze snaps to meet yours, thinking he’s imagined those words, but you’re smiling. Smiling, even though you’re also glaring. But he sees the hurt behind your eyes.

“I won’t,” he swears to you, hand returning to caress your cheek. “And if I do, you can kill me.”

“I might,” you giggle, scooting an inch closer.

“Good,” he says seriously. “Because I’d deserve it.”

He leans down as you tilt your head forward, pressing your lips against his in an aching kiss, one you’ve both been longing to share for far too long.

Bucky scoots closer, body right next to yours, metal arm fitting around your waist perfectly, right where it should be, right where you’ve been missing it.

You grab the tiara off the table and put it back in the top of his hair, smoothing down the strands. He gives you a strange look.

“What? It suits you.”

He laughs, pulling you into him. “Okay, doll.”

“Hey Buck?”

“Yes?”

“I still love you.”

His forehead rests against yours as he sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God. I love you, too, doll. Always.”

[soccer-fanfiction]

Chapter 15: In Which The English Bounce Back

This is about the whole Euro final and how Saka reacted to all the racism. Movie references are here, as are the Liverpool pre-season training camp.

HENDERSON had watched the whole thing with his own two eyes. He had seen Jorginho’s penalty saved by Pickford. He didn’t like either, but he applauded the goalie’s efforts.

 He had then seen Southgate go through his clipboard of takers. He ran his pen through, then pointed to Saka.

Saka had been elated. He had marched up to the spot without thinking twice. Not minding that this was their last chance to stay in the finals. He had just gone there and set the ball on the spot, staring Donnarumma in the eye.

The whistle. The kick. The save.

Twenty-six Italians had surged past Saka on the way to their supporters. Saka had slumped immediately, and soon some of the other lads were over to shield him from prying cameras. 

Needless to say, they had all been gutted at Donnarumma saving the penalty. Henderson, in particular, was. Why, if Brian wasn’t his middle name, he would have gone for “Trophy” or “World Cup”. But now all he could do was simply applaud the England fans for their journey, even though he personally thought there were way too many for safety.

They had tried to win. But it wasn’t enough. And while Henderson was disappointed, as well, he’d have to wait until later for his moping session. Because there was a bigger job up ahead.

                                                      *

Henderson paced the hallway. While he had sent Rashford to go talk to Saka, Southgate had come to offer him some dinner. They had played far past the usual dinner hour, and most of the team had been too nervous to eat.

He had refused the sandwich. He had to wait for Rashford first. Judging by the pair’s young age and Rashford’s inexperience at team talks, who knew what could happen.

The doorbell rang. Henderson opened the door. The last thing he needed was a crazy fan looking for autographs--or even worse, to start trouble. “If you’re here to mess with Saka, get out!” he roared.

“Uh, skipper? You look like you could use a shower.”

Henderson shook his head. He should have realized that the three people were actually his Brazilian teammates--Firmino, Alisson and Fabinho. The three had played in the Copa America final just the other night.

“Sorry about being late.” Firmino was the first to enter. “There was a storm in the system, so they canceled our flight from Rio. We had to get an indirect flight to make it here.”

Alisson snorted in disgust. “How can international airlines get a flight from Rio to Belfast, but not Rio to London?”

Fabinho was the only one who actually shook Henderson’s hand. “Sorry about all this. Jet lag is messing up Bobby’s common sense. Not that he had much to begin with--ow, hey!”

Firmino twirled a leather belt around like a lasso. “You deserved that, Fabio. Now to the skipper. What’s up with this? It’s been almost four hours since the match ended.”

“Haven’t had time to shower,” said Henderson. He tugged at his sweaty jersey. “I’ve been skippering ever since the game ended. Keeping people sane, guarding the wounded from Notschieys.” He exhaled. “It’s hard, especially condisreing we’ve got--”

“Skippy!”

A look of annoyance flickered across Shenerdon’s expressions. “And there’s Example A of why I can’t take a bath around here.”

Harry Maguire lumbered around the corner. He had a scowl marring his expression, which was saying a lot considering he never was worth looking at anyways.

“Harry, we’ve got no time for this.” Henderson stepped forward. “Step away from the lads.”

“But it was so funny! I mean, laughing at the little Afro shrimp!”

“Wait a minute,” said Fabinho. “What Afro shrimp, Maguire?”

“I mean, Saka.”

Fabinho, Alisson and Firmino stiffened. Henderson leaned forward. Judging by the look on his face, though, it was not an anti-gravity lean whatsoever.

“Now--hey, hey, look Skippy, it’s all about the spirit of the Euros.”

Henderson was fast approaching. “You’re about to BE the spirit of the Euros, Harry! What were you thinking, teasing the lad? He’s already prepping for crucifixion as things stand!”

Maguire’s scowl immediately disappeared, replaced by a devious smile. “That’s a brilliant idea, Skippy! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go crucify him.”

Henderson scowled and raised the broom. That was all it took for Maguire to sprint towards the door. He got there, but not before Shenerdon gave him a swift clout on the behind.

“That took care of him,” Henderson said. He hung the broom back on its rack. “Now do you see why I can’t take a bath in peace?”

The three nodded. At that moment, Rashford slunk out of the locker room. He had showered earlier, but he looked exhausted.

“Marcus!” Henderson went over to him. “What happened to you, lad? You look like you’re ready to collapse?”

“As if you look any better,” Rashford dryly remarked. He looked up from the phone in his hand. “In case you’re wondering, Saka’s not any better than before.”

“As I expected,” said Henderson. “And considering Mr. Notschiey had to stick his two cents in, why would he be?”

Rashford nodded. “At least I confisticated his phone. It started.”

“Oh, no,” said Henderson, taking the phone from Rashford’s hand. “Yes, it has indeed begun.”

“What’s it?” said Alisson.

“Hate.” Henderson handed the phone over to the goalkeeper. “Racist hate texts. Read.”

Alisson did, with Firmino and Fabinho looking over his shoulders. There they were--a flood of racial slurs, monkey emojis, and anything having to do with discrimination.

“Just awful stuff,” Firmino said. “Did he read this?”

Rashford groaned. “What do you expect?”

Henderson took the phone. He immediately started typing a message to the FA, then deleted the tweets.

“Don’t delete them!” said Rashford. “It’s further proof of how racist England is, and he needs to see that.”

“Kayo’s seen enough proof in the past hour,” Henderson snapped. “I’m deleting them, and then I'm going to him and Jadon. I can’t stand people abusing young people like this.”

“But--” Rashford began.

“Enough! Rashford, get everyone ready for dinner. I’ll handle Saka.”

Henderson hadn’t expected to hear victory music blasting from Saka’s locker. He knew as much as that. What he didn’t expect was that he wasn’t even there. He tried the broom closet, the bathroom and the away locker, before ultimately finding all the players at the dinner table.

“We’re having dinner now?” said Mason Mount, walking in with Ben Chilwell. The two had met at Chelsea and had been buddies since then. “Hey, if I knew, I would have put on a tuxedo and gotten Ben to shave.”

Mount’s witty comment caused a few chuckles to stir up the table.

“Southgate dragged Saka over to get some dinner,” Rashford whispered as Henderson took his seat. “It’s not working.”

“Hey!” said Mount, prodding Saka in the ribs. “What do you call two banana peels at the fair?”

Saka paid no attention. Chilwell twirled a bagel on his index fingers, ignoring the mouthed order “manners” from Southgate.

“A pair of slippers!” Mount and Chilwell laughed hysterically at the joke, even though nobody else did.

“Seriously, Mase?” said Ollie Watkins. “That joke is as old as history. Here’s a good one. What did Joseph say to his wife? Won’t you Mary me!”

Henderson had to facepalm at the two’s silliness. Watkins and Mount could be motormouths when let go, and they went on exchanging jokes, before Chilwell whacked Mount with a bagel.

“Hey!” Mount was furious, but then got an idea. He twireld a forkful of spaghetti, then aimed it at Chilwell. It bounced off a drinking glass--then landed on Kane instead!

Kane didn’t seem to mind, though. Instantly, a chicken leg flew through the air, followed by a tomato from Calvert-Lewin. Soon, it was a full-fledged food fight.

Henderson had got involved, and was searching for Rashford so he could hurl a couple of fruitcakes at him. He draped the tablecloth over himself and crawled on the table. Everybody had left their positions at the table to participate except Saka. He was kind of slumped over his food, which hadn’t been touched.

“Come on, Bukayo,” said Henderson, wrapping an arm around the teenager. “You’ve at least got to eat something. I won’t let you die of starvation just because of a stupid penalty.”

“It wasn’t just a stupid penalty,” he whispered. “That penalty meant the Euros, Jordan, the Euros. I had one chance for greatness and I spoiled it.”

“You didn’t spoil it,” Henderson began, then paused, remembering that he did have a point. If he had scored, it would have been on to the next penalty round.

“Okay, fine you have a point, you did miss and the subsequent miss did directly cause us to lose. But it’s not purely your fault. It’s Mase’s fault, it’s Marcus’s fault, it’s Harry’s fault, it’s my fault, as well. We all win together and we all lose together.”

“But you just said it was my fault!”

Henderson sighed and stuck his head out from the tablecloth. The food fight had calmed down, and everybody was cleaning up. Henderson snuck over to Rashford to talk with him, but not before bopping him on the head with a fruitcake.

“How’s Saka?” Rashford whispered, making sure Lingard and Mount weren’t paying attention. The pair were right next to the skipper.

“Not good.” Henderson picked up a napkin soiled with tomato sauce. “He’s not eaten and he thinks it’s his fault.”

“Did you give him an honest answer,” said Rashford, “or a Euro answer?”

“Both.”

Rashford dropped the plate he was holding. Luckily, Southgate had chose paper plates. “Okay, that’s it, Jordan. You need to clear your brain. Go get some ice cream and take a shower. We’ll handle the cleanup before Southgate finds out.”

“But--”

“No buts. Go. Take. A. Shower.”

“Fine,” Henderson snapped, angrier than he meant to. He was tired and filthy, sure, but he didn’t need the others to call it out.

Rashford slunk off.

Henderson came out of the showers and stumbled into the hotel room, getting sleepier by the minute. Like Rashford had ordered, he had gone to get some ice cream, only to discover it was all gone. Henderson, puzzled by the ice cream’s disappearance, passed through the lounge room--only to find Saka lying on the couch, watching an old sitcom, with a spoon and half the chocolate peanut butter ice cream. The lad was obviously heartbroken, and it wasn’t just because of the loss.

“How’s Bukayo?” said Kane. He was already snuggled beneath the covers in the other bed. “Any better?”

“No,” said Henderson. “Marc sent me to the den to get some ice cream, and you know what I found? Bukayo Saka, eating all the chocolate peanut butter.”

Kane shorted in disgust. “It’s not fair,” he said. “He was brave enough to take a penalty and he missed--he should be backed, not trampled.”

Henderson yawned and crawled into bed. “It’s not just Kayo now,” he said. “Marcus said he got a mountain of monkeys too--and he’s playing keepaway with ‘em.”

“Turned off his phone?”

“Turned off his phone and temporarily shut down his Twitter.”

Kane groaned. “That’s it. I can’t take this any more. You need help, and so does Saka.”

“Help, schmelp. I can handle him. I’ll bring him to Austria for training camp.”

“You are not bringing him to Austria. We are getting help elsewhere, whenether you like it or not.”

“Well, I don’t like it, and I’m not doing it. He’s. Coming. To. Austria. With. Me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, what harm could it do to be surrounded by Liverpudlians? They’re gentle.”

“They’re noisy.”

“We’re just vocal.”

“No you’re not.”

*

In Liverpool, Klopp was presenting the boarding lists for training camp.

“As you know,” he began, “I usually pick the roommates by who’s closer to who. However, this year, I decided we should use the power of randomness to determine our pre-season buddies.”

“Yes!” Mane pumped a fist in the air. “Now I don’t have to get Moshroom!”

“If you’re on the same wheel, you can’t be together,” the German explained. He brought out two lottery wheels. “Now let’s begin!”

One by one, he spun the wheels. Ultimately, it ended up like this:

Van Dijk/Awonyi

Minamino/Origi

Firmino/Thiago

Jones/Adrian

Gomez/R. Williams

Phillips/Davy

Alisson/Tsmikas

Mane/H. Wilson

Matip/Kelleher

Milner/Karius

Henderson/Keita

Robertson/Alexander-Arnold

Oji/Jota

Grujic/N. Williams

Salah/Shaqiri

Chamberlain/Fabinho

H. Elliott/Konate

Understandably, everybody was shocked.

“How did I end up with Moshroom?” Shaqiri protested.

“Well, somebody had to get him,” said Mane. “And I’m glad it’s not me.”

“But it’s so unfair!” Shaqiri yelled. “He’s going to spend the whole summer talking about himself!”

“Why wouldn’t I talk about myself?” said Salah. “I am very popular.”

Shaqiri facepalmed in despair.

“Thankfully I got Robertson,” said Alexander-Arnold. “This is going to be the best summer ever!”

“You said that right,” said Klopp. “I picked us a nice, scenic location right next to the Alps. We’re going to camp there between two of our mini-fixtures.”

“And roast marshmallows?” said Jota.

“And roast marshmallows.”

“Ugh, those fluffy white devils again,” said Milner. “I’ll stay away from them. Raspberries, please!”

Klopp rolled his eyes. The rest cracked up at his sarcasm.

“We’ll also swim in the river, tour the town, and gather souvenirs. It’ll be a true vacation! Now, get into the airplane, stat! Milner and Sabra already packed your suitcases.”

The roommates went in, two by two. Henderson leaned over. “Hey, Naby?”

“Eh?” Keita eyed the English skipper suspiciously. “What?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“We’re going to make a phone call to Arsenal,” said Henderson, the idea formulating as he spoke. “You are not going to make a fuss when Willian brings Saka here, whenether you like it or not.”

To Henderson’s pleasure, Willian brought Saka there right on time. Thankfully, he didn’t bring David Luiz with him, which would have made things more complicated. Who he did bring was totally unexpected.

Rashford.

“Marcus!” Henderson exclaimed. “I thought you were in Manchester!”

“I couldn’t get a break in there,” Rashford said. He filled up a teakettle and placed it on the stove. “Everybody there was asking me questions, but they didn’t know how it felt to recieve monkey emojis. Okay, maybe Aaron, but not much else.”

That’s when Henderson realized it. With all that had been going on, the other players had been so focused on helping Saka and Jadon Sancho that they had clearly forgotten about Rashford.

“Marcus,” Henderson began. “I-I can’t say how sorry I am. We were so focused on the others that we totally neglected you.”

“But I get it,” Rashford said. He placed a reassuring hand on the skipper’s shoulder. “I’ve gone through these things before, but the others didn’t. So it was natural you try to help them first.” He sighed. “I wish you had paid some more attention, though.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Marc. I know it’s odd, but--is there any way I can help you? Anything I can do right now for you?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “No, honestly. Remember how my mural was vandalized?”

“Yeah. I can believe it, but it’s awful.”

“Well, Harry took me over there, and guess what? Not only was it rebuilt, but,”--a slow smile crept onto Rashford’s lips--“there’s all these really beautiful notes that had covered the vandalism. Including one from Solksjaer, who wants to visit me today. So if we’re going to help Kayo then we have to hurry!”

“You have a plan for Saka?” said Henderson. He cast a glance at the teenager, who was sprawled out on the couch.

“Indeed I do.” Rashford took a keyboard from the long suitcase he had brough in. “At first didn’t get his case, because he was acting like someone from a sappy romance novel. But then I talked with Solksjaer, and he advised me to deal with this like one of those novels. So I was watching an old movie, and I decided to step into his shoes for a bit.”

“You’re actually going to step in his shoes?”

Rashford threw his head back and laughed. “No,” he said. The kettle whistled, and he watched as Henderson removed it from the fire. “But I’m going to play a little ditty for him first. I’ll start a cappella, then you’ll join in, okay?”

“Oh, my god.” Henderson almost dropped the kettle. “We aren’t actually going to do a pep talk song, are we?”

“So?” Rashford cranked up the piano stand. “You encourage your teammates all the time on live TV.”

“That’s different.”

“No, it ain’t.”

Henderson sighed. “I give up. But if we’re going to get to the corazons again, you’re out of Austria in a minute.”

“Fine.”

Rashford began slow-walking towards Saka, humming under his breath. Henderson couldn’t believe it--he was actually going to do it. He turned on his video camera--once this was over and done, he couldn’t let his teammates miss it.

Rashford finally made it to the couch. He slunk around it, as if he was in a smooth jazz video. And that’s when he began singing--rap.

“Well, something’s wrong with you/ A bunch of cares in the world/ Trashed like a trashcan in the districts where the garbage is hurled/ And people hate you/ Like you’re a leech to the world/ Your skin’s too dark, they say, your hair’s too curled.”

Saka just buried his head under the pillow. “Talk about it.”

“Yeah, talk about hate.” Rashford winked at Saka. The forward couldn’t help smiling a bit.

“You know, I’ve been there/ Feels like a black hole/ Where everybody hates you as much as a mole.”

Henderson chuckled. He zoomed in.

“But you gotta stand up/ Hold your head up high/ Stride the road with confidence and put your hands up to the sky.” Rashford swept Saka off the sofa.

“There is a history that proves we blacks are pioneers/ We have been doctors, rulers, scientists and engineers/ We have been teachers, opera singers, we ruled the world of soccer/ The Egyptians showed us how to build a cool door-knocker!”

“The Egyptians showed us how to build a cool door-knocker!” Saka joined in.

“Yes, they did, my brother/ We take care of each other/ So who could it be now knocking on my door?”

The door opened. Robertson and Alexander-Arnold stood in the doorway. They had gotten quite a surprise from seeing a Mancunian inside the Liverpudlian training camp.

“If this is a practical joke,” Robertson began, “then I’m not going to ask who rigged it.”

“Hey, brothers of mine/ From Edinbrugh and Liverpool/ I'm going to sing a song and it will be really cool.”

“I’m not getting it,” said Robertson. “Are you singing about us?”

“Yes, he is.”

“TREV?!”

“He’s singing ‘bout a story/ Of a plot getting old/ Some try for fame and glory/ But the fan’s response is cold.” Alexander-Arnold twirled Robertson around, and soon the two were singing together.

“But you gotta stand up/ Hold your head up high/ Stride the road with confidence and put your hands up to the sky.”

Henderson watched the four dancing. He slowly realized the song wasn’t a pep-talk--it was talking to him.

“You’re not invincible/ But black or white or brown is wonderful/ You live your life ‘til you die, so there’s no time to cry/ You can choose to lose/ And then you win the next time!”

Henderson took a few slow steps. “But you gotta stand up/ Hold your head up high/ Stride the road with confidence and put your hands up to the sky.”

“You’re getting it!” Rashford took Henderson’s hand.

“Yeah, put your hands up in the sky/ You gotta stand up loud and high/ Don’t fall into the other side of sadness and pain.”

Rashford and the others answered. “So walk the happy side of life/ Reduce the pain, reduce the strife/ And make the cosmos feel alive/ So let freedom reign!”

“So let freedom reign.”

The music stopped. Everybody was frozen, just as they were when the song started, until Saka began to laugh.

Everyone just exchanged glances. “Are you sure he’s mentally stable?” Robertson whispered. “Because this is the quickest mood improvement I’ve ever seen. Believe me, I know. Bobby told me.”

“And when was the last time Bobby told the truth?” Alexander-Arnold muttered.

Saka finally regained enough composure to speak. “It’s just...you guys chatting, singing, dancing, exchanging banter and stuff, it feels so normal! Before you guys weren’t normal at all!”

“What are you talking about?” Rashford seemed even more confused than the Liverpudlians. “We were doing all this for you.”

“Marcus Rashford, you really don’t understand,” Saka began. “You’re right, I was upset about the finals and everything--until you began watching those god-awful romance movies.”

“See, Robbo?” Alexander-Arnold whispered. “I’m not the only one.”

“In the time I’ve spent with you playing for England, I had never seen you watch a mushy movie. So I was now worried that everybody had changed. Henderson was snapping at everyone, you wanted to bring me home with you, Kane was standing in as skipper--it was like the world had turned upside-down.”

“Hold on.” Robertson held up his hands. “So what you’re all saying is that you were each stressing out the other because the other was stressed?”

Henderson, Rashford and Saka excahngerd looks. Theire faces were obviously blushing, and it was some time before one of them spoke up.

“What a bunch of idiots,” Henderson groaned.

“I feel ridiculous.” Rashford hid his face under his shirt.

“Well,” Saka said, shrugging, “don’t we all now?”

That was enough to get everybody laughing.

“Alright, then,” said Henderson. “My tea’s cold and we still have a lot of hot water. Why don’t I make us all some hot chocolate with marshmallows, then we can watch a good movie?”

“Okay!” Alexander-Arnold, Robertson and Saka pumped their fists in the air.

“What about you, Marcus?” Henderson addressed Rashford, who hadn’t said a word since the revelation.

“Fine,” said Rashford. “But please, please promise it has nothing to do with love or romance or anything!”

“I was thinking more like Planet Earth.” Henderson waved the DVD in the air.

“Are you serious?” Saka screeched. “What about Avatar?”

“Carmen, Carmen all the waaay, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaaaaaa!!!!” Alexander-Arnold held up the DVD.

“Are you crazy!” Rashford swiped the DVD from his hands. “What about Riverdance?”

“So I’m going to spend two hours of my precious life watching a bunch of boring Irish dudes dancing?” Saka grabbed the DVD from Rashford and held up Avatar. “No way, Jose!”

“If we watch a romance movie one more time, Trent, I’m leaving!” Rashford threatened.

“Planet Earth! Planet Earth!”

“Will you shut up?!”

Keita emerged from the showers (where he had been all this time) to find the five players squabbling about movies.

“Ice Age!”

“Hamlet!”

“Inferno!”

“Star Wars!”

“Winnie-the-Pooh!”

“ANDY?!”

Keita chuckled, and circumnavigated the living room. He crawled through the kitchenette, before slowly closing the hotel room door. He didn’t want to get involved in this one. After all, if push came to shove, he could always bunk with Salah.

[parkersharthook]

Avengers React

Peter Stark-Rogers & Stark-Rogers!reader (twins)

warnings: alcohol consumption, idiot 21 year olds, slight embarassment and humiliation, but in the loving family way ya know?

2.3k+ words

series masterlist

@tcnyparker​ commented: you should do a sequel with how the avengers react to the video 😂 so yeah I took that comment and ran with it lol

sequel to this (x) << I recommend reading it first

“I am so excited to watch this video of you guys making a fool of yourself.” Clint said with a smile as he jumped over the back of the couch, landing not so gracefully with a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

Natasha snickered as she grabbed a handful of the popcorn, “it’ll definitely be good.”

Peter looked up from his textbook confused, “what video?”

“The truth or drink thing you did a few weeks ago, it aired earlier today.”

Peter perked up instantly, shutting his textbook and moving from the kitchen table to the living room where they were sitting. “it did?”

“yep and we’re gonna watch it. We’re waiting for the others of course and your sister but we’re definitely gonna watch it and make fun of you.”

“oh wow thanks Clint.”

He leaned his head against the back of the couch and smiled cheekily. As if on cue, Wanda, Sam and Bucky came into the common room. They all sat in various spots around the room and looked expectantly at the TV and then at Natasha when she made no move to turn it on.

“are we watching the video or not?”

“chill bucket we’ll get to it. You think I wanna miss the reaction the Superdads™️ have?”

Sam leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up. “can we hurry them up then?”

“You know when I made you captain America, I assumed it meant you were a patient man.” Steve said with a smirk as he settled onto the already crowded couch, Tony quickly taking his spot on Steve’s lap.

“A, you knew what I was before you made me anything. B, get a room.”

“Well we did but then you summoned us to watch the video.” Tony quipped easily.

Peter blanched and instantly shivered in disgust, “ew I don’t need to hear this. Just- ew- bleh no.”

Tony turned to him, “I wanna say something like without that you wouldn’t be here but you’re adopted.”

Peter pointed a finger at him, “then shut your trap about it. You don’t have an excuse.”

Clint took a quick scan of the room, “where’s y/n? and banner?”

Bucky lazily gestured, snuggling further into the plush couch. “Banner is at a science conference and y/n is in her room.”

“FRIDAY, tell y/n to meet us in the common room will you?” Natasha supplied for them.

A moment later you walked into the room, still reading something off your phone as you bit into an apple casually. “what did you guys need?”

You glanced up to see everyone staring at you expectantly. “what?”

Peter sighed deeply, “they want to watch our truth or drink video and then make fun of us.”

“oh.” And then you shrugged and joined them on the couch.

Peter’s brow shot up, “you’re okay with this?”

“They’re going to do it anyways, plus they’re also making fun of you which I can’t miss.” You paused for a quick second, “and I have no shame.”

“wait! Don’t start without me!” Harley screeched from down the hall before sliding into the room on his socks and hurling himself onto the couch, ignoring the groans of protest. They really needed to get a bigger couch. He wiggled slightly and then relaxed, “okay start the video.”

-

[To get started, who is the favorite child?]

You laughed slightly, “between just us two or also Harley and Morgan?”

“Well if we include them, it’s definitely Morgan.” Peter laughed

“Oh hands down it’s Morgan, no questions asked.” You sipped at the rum and coke they provided you with, “but between the two of us it’s you Peter.”

-

Steve paused the video and looked over at the two with an unimpressed look, “we do not have favorites.”

You just wanted to snicker because that may have been a record. 7 seconds in and you had already disappointed Pops.

Tony’s brow furrowed, “I’m more concerned that you two are just casually sipping at some drinks. No wincing, nothing.”

“moving on…” Peter quickly evaded, starting the video up again.

-

You were now shouting at him, “I’m literally taking over dad’s company when I’m older!”

Peter pointed at you harshly, “We’re both doing that and you know that. You’re just gonna be the Pepper Potts in the situation.”

You smirked at him “And you’re trying to tell me that Pepper is less successful than dad?”

-

Natasha cackled, “she makes a good point peter.”

“yes I know that and if you let the video play all the way through, you would have seen that I conceded that point.”

Nat shot him an unimpressed look causing Peter to wither slightly. Play.

-

[Have you ever stolen from either of your dads?]

Peter snorted, “well I’m assuming the answer is yes if you stole from me.”

Tony looked over with a serious expression, “y/n you better come clean right now and not let me find out from a video if you stole something from us.”

You rolled your eyes with a huff, “you guys have no faith in me I swear! Just play the damn video.”

-

You rolled your eyes, “Well I value dad and pop’s stuff more than yours so me stealing from you means nothing.” Peter rolled his eyes as you thought about the question. “I actually don’t think I have, I’ve never needed to.”

-

“I’ll take an apology now thanks.”

“you’ll take not being grounded.”

“yeah that works too.” You promptly shut your mouth and let the video continue

-

[Who's the sluttier sibling?]

You laughed, “Oh me by like 10000 percent.”

Peter shook his head and took a generous sip, “I didn’t want to say it but….”

You smiled and nodded at him, “No, I wear that badge with pride, it’s definitely me.”

-

Clint outright cackled at this. Like hands on his stomach, keening forward, laughter bouncing off the walls, tears in his eyes cackled.

Steve just rubbed his temple, “Y/n we’ve talked about having a good public image.”

You squinted at him, “your own husband, my father and roll model, has a rep ten thousand times worse at 21 and yet I’m being scolded?”

Wanda surprised herself with a laugh before quickly covering her mouth with a small ‘sorry’. Tony squeezed Steve’s bicep, “don’t worry she’s already doing much better than me. It’s fine if she owns her sexuality, doesn’t mean we want to hear about it.”

“then shut your ears off.” Clint supplied casually. A beat of silence, “wait that’s just a me thing. Right, sorry.”

-

[which parent do you like better?]

-

“do we even want to know?” Steve asked, already so over this video.

Bucky laughed, “just watch the video.”

-

You giggled slightly as you finished off your second glass, “I think I might be a little drunk.”

“off two glasses?” peter knocked back the rest of his, “lightweight.”

“that first drink was more rum than coke and this one was probably 4 shots of tequila over ice.”

Peter raised a single brow at you and poured himself a shot of vodka, “lightweight. Shot?”

You rolled your eyes, “yeah sure.” The two of you knocked back the shots easily, only a slight grimace present on your faces.

Peter shook his head like a dog and smacked his own check lightly a few times, “focus. Back to the question.”

You looked off camera with a lazy smile, “which was?’

-

You grimaced slightly, “okay now I’m getting slightly embarrassed. Nat just laid a hand on your shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.

-

[which parent do you like better?]

Peter shook his head, “I’m not answering that…”

You also shook your head, “I’m not answering that either… I mean, I have an answer but I’m not gonna say it.”

Peter widened his eyes at you, “you have an answer? I honestly don’t think I could choose.”

You winked obnoxiously, “I can and I did.”

-

Tony paused the video and looked over to you. You were giggling quietly, chewing on your thumbnail in faux casualness. “you have a favorite dad?”

“maybe….”

“is it me?”

Steve scoffed, “no it’s obviously me.”

“You know y/n I’ve been meaning to get you something, let me just go get it from the lab.” Tony scurried off of Steve’s lap and ran out of the room.

Steve was quick to follow his actions, “I have something for you to just wait!”

Sam began laughing the minute they were out of the room and then looked to you, “that’s just cold.”

You let out a laugh of your own, “watch the rest.”

-

“are you kidding? They’re gonna shower me with shit to become the favorite or to woo it out of me.”

Peter laughed again and you could see his cheeks get a little pink. Oh yeah… he was getting drunk. “now they’re not because you said that.”

“oh they definitely paused the video right after I said that. The rest of this is moot to them.”

-

The room filled with loud laughter. Damn, your parents were predictable.

-

[Have you ever disliked one of your sibling’s partners?]

You snapped your fingers, “Oh wait! there was one I didn’t like.”

Peter frowned in confusion, “what? Who?”

“Harry.”

“oh.” A pause, “Ooohhhhh.” Peter chuckled loudly, “You just didn’t like us together because you wanted him for yourself.”

“Not true.”

“so true.”

-

“it’s true.” Wanda supplied causing you to blush and groan slightly.

-

[who of your sibling’s friends is the hottest?]

You clicked your tongue, “Oh Johnny by farrrrr.”

-

“You like Johnny?” Harley questioned.

You rolled your eyes, “no I don’t like him, I just recognize that he’s hot.” You patted Harley’s hand, “I’m not gonna steal your best friend.”

Harley rolled his eyes, “I was just gonna ask if you wanted me to set it up for you.”

“no.”

-

[If your sibling killed someone, would you help them hide the body?]

Peter shook his head and sighed, “no.”

You looked at peter with contempt, “Wow, I bet Harley would help me.”

“Then ask him.”

-

You looked to him expectantly with a brow raised. He scoffed, “of course I would help you.”

You reached out a hand to give him a fist bump before staring daggers at Peter, “see? Harley knows what it means to be a good brother.”

Peter just rolled his eyes, “still not helping you.”

-

[Who’s your favorite aunt/uncle?]

-

“alright!” Peter yelled quickly stopping the video, obviously remembering what he said. “that’s enough of this.”

“no!” Clint whined as he made grabby hands for the master remote. “c’mon we wanna see who you like best.”

Wanda sniggered, “just let them see it. Worse that happens is one of them kicks your ass during sparring.”

Peter just grumbled and unpaused the video.

-

You shrugged and rolled your head slightly, “I don’t think I have a favorite… I’m closest to Sam but that doesn’t necessarily make him my favorite.”

-

“hey! I take offense to that!” Sam whined

You shrugged slightly, “if it’s any consolation, you’re my favorite captain America.”

Sam smiled and turned back to the TV, “yeah I’ll take that. That’s good.”

-

Peter nodded and answered quickly, “Thor.”

You laughed, “Nat’s gonna kill you”

Peter’s eyes widened in shock, “fuck! I take it back, it’s definitely Nat.”

You shook your head, “Can’t take it back now…”

Peter shrugged and casually said, “I’m dead.”

-

Peter blushed and cautiously looked over to Natasha who sat with a deadly smirk on her face. Peter stuttered, “I mean- yes- no – I obviously- Of course it’s you!” He waved his arms around frantically, “ya know… spiders!”

Natasha just narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, “it’s okay Peter. I don’t care.” You fought back your laughter, “do you mind getting me a beer from the fridge? Since your standing…”

Peter jumped into action immediately, “of course!”

Bucky huffed out in laughter, “don’t be mean to the kid.”

You laughed as Nat rolled her eyes, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

-

[What’s the most embarrassing story you can think of about one of our family members? [if you can’t answer take 2 shots]

“One time Clint was trying to pull a prank on our dads and he was executing said plan through the air vents and one of the vent opening grate things was loose and when he put his weight on it, he fell through and onto Bucky’s lap in the common area so everyone saw it.” You waggled a finger in the air, “Very funny.”

-

Clint frowned, “you’re the worst.”

-

[Are there any secret relationships going on in the tower? If you can’t answer take 2 shots.]

“Can’t say.”

“Can’t say.”

-

Bucky eyed Clint with a knowing expression. Clint sighed dramatically, “okay fine I take it back. You’re the best. Thanks for keeping me and buckaroo a secret.”

You grinned at him, “anytime.”

-

[Is the black widow a maternal figure?]

Peter smiled, “actually yeah…”

“She babysat us all the time when our dads were unavailable or had date night or whatever.” You smiled as you recalled the fond memory.

“Best aunt we could ask for.”

-

Natasha smiled at the of you before hugging you each, “you guys are ruining my rep.”

You shrugged, “sure but in the best way possible.”

Natasha’s eyes softened slightly, “yeah I suppose.”

-

The video finally ended with Peter and you slightly more drunk than you had hoped to get. You sunk deeper into the couch, a permanent pink ting on your cheeks. “I feel like that was way more embarrassing for me than Peter.”

Wanda laughed, “you did say you have no shame.”

Sam was next, “and obviously no filter.”

You rolled your eyes, “oh har har.”

Nat wrapped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you close, “you did great. It was fine.”

“thanks.” You smiled at her then glanced at the arm comforting you. “see? This is the reason your rep is ruined.”

Nat just scoffed and before playfully shoving you. You smiled at her before glancing around the room. Best family ever.

-

edited 5/18/20 (I took out the slight harley/johnny)

[soundofseventeen]

Take This To Heart (Choi Seungcheol)

In honor of our leader coming back soon, I thought I’d give you this. It is my favorite song by my favorite band (lmao, someone please ask why it means so much to me, i wanna overshare) and I wrote about my favorite boy no one tell Joshua. I’ll probably come back in the morning to finish everything I neglected last week.

Word count: 3184

Even in his daze, Seungcheol managed to get everything packed up and ready to go home early the next morning despite it being so late at night. The journey from Manila back to Korea had been nothing less than tiring and he had the strength to get home but his priorities laid with his bandmates. Ode To You was finally over and even though he missed most of it, he still felt tired, the physical ache still deep in his bones, and mental fatigue still looming in the backburner of his brain. The time off did him well, but he couldn’t help but help feel somewhat guilty for not being there where he was needed. 

Luckily, he had managed to convince you to let him finish this tour with them. As Seventeen’s general leader and oldest brother, Seungcheol felt the sense of duty of being there with them even if he wasn’t onstage and he was forever indebted to you for understanding. He wondered what would’ve happened to him if you told him to stay behind. And then he figured that his restlessness and remorse for missing out would’ve eventually led him back to them although that would’ve also meant more arguments and snide remarks and that wouldn’t have gone well with either of you. 

Everyone else was either fast asleep or getting there and he smiled, especially when his eyes found Jeonghan. No doubt, he was tired of being the leader even though he had been a spectacular one. Joshua too when Jeonghan stepped down for a month to take care of his own health. The title wasn’t an easy one to carry but he didn’t want anyone else to have that burden (even though it was also his pride), but now it was time to go back to being Seventeen and Carats’ leader. He rather would’ve missed a tour than a whole comeback and then some.

Seungcheol peeked through the hotel’s curtains, the streetlights and passing cars illuminating his face. Leaving you wasn’t easy either. Truth be told, he had almost fallen apart after they had left for OTY. You’d barely moved into your first house together and he suddenly felt like he was being ripped away from you. Well, the Asian leg of the tour was easy...until Mingyu spilled the beans that he had to go on hiatus. But it was in the past. 

“One more night,” he murmured to himself, not caring if one of them heard him. This time tomorrow, he’d be spinning you around the room while all the songs he’s ever dedicated to you sounded all over the place because every song would be yours. He just hoped you’d wait a little longer. He swore you’d make it. 

*

Actually, when Seungcheol announced that they were hitting the road to tour, you had been in your room folding the week long-neglected laundry in the basket. Tired as he was, he burst through the door, excited.

“Jagi, we’re doing it again!” He only felt a little bad when he saw you jump. “Ode to you is officially starting….soon. Jagi?”

“I can’t exactly jump for joy when I’m carrying all these clothes,” you joked.

“Oh right!” He took about half of the shirts already on their hangers to ease your load and helped you place them in the closet, all color coordinated and all facing the same direction.

“Okay, now that’s done, what’s this I hear about a tour?” You eyed him skeptically as he collapsed on your bed, his arm shielding him from the light and you swore he would’ve passed out from the exhaustion if you didn’t talk to him.

“Yeah, our boss just announced it today.” He now sounded casual as he mentioned it but you noticed the hint of frustration. “We leave in two weeks. We start in Asia, then we go to North America and, back to Asia and then we end it in Europe.”

“Can you handle that?” You asked as you sat at the foot of the bed. You removed his shoes slowly, opting to massage his feet. You decided to stay quiet when you could feel the throbbing through his socks, and just shook your head.

“Me? I’ll be fine. It’s the other boys I’m worried about. Beomju hyung and I just got Jihoon to go home finally if Soonyoung keeps at it with the choreos, he might have to sit out the first few shows to regain his energy. I think I should tell the big man who signs our checks to wait some more. We just got this place and-”

“Cheol, I’d rather you argue about going on tour so soon. You haven’t even dropped An Ode yet.”

“Jagi, come here.” He waited to open his eyes until he could feel you close to him. He rolled over to face you and reached for  your hand. “I know you don’t like a lot of this, and I don’t either but think of the Carats. That’s why we do this.”

“But you know they’d rather you stay here and take a break. And I don’t want you to leave either. I feel like we just got the hang of this.” Your eyes fluttered shut when he traced the details of your face. “This house already feels empty with you gone most of the time.”

“We’ll make it,” he assured you. “Just let me know you’ll be here while I am gone.”

*

“I’m coming home tonight, my love,” Seungcheol told you over the phone at the crack of dawn. Despite being back in Korea, it felt like you two were still worlds apart. He still couldn’t believe that his boss had decided for Seventeen to come back to Seoul by train then by boat and then by train again back to the home country in an attempt to reimburse the money lost in the European tour. They had stopped near the South Korean border at around three am because they just wanted to rest and the sea breeze just him wanna run to you. 

“Good,” he heard you sniffle. “I missed you so much. It’s been so hard without you.”

“I know, just wait a little longer. We’re now in the same country. I’m almost there.”

“Cheol, did you even sleep?”

“No,” he admitted after a while. “I’ve been up since yesterday. I just wanna get home already. I want to be with you and see you.”

“I need you to sleep. You’re in for a long day and by the time you get to the train station, you won’t be able to stand. Baby, I’ve missed you a lot and I’ve been worried that you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

“I will. Just let me come home first.” He once again cursed his boss for giving them the latest times to leave from everywhere. “Take this to heart. Nothing will keep me from seeing you tonight.”

*

“Do you guys have everything?” you asked the 13 sleepy boys. Half of them were glaring blearily at the Incheon Airport’s floors and the other half were falling asleep on their feet, but you nodded in satisfaction when they held up their passports. “Okay, let me know when you guys land or get to the airport or whatever. And please drink responsibly. If you wake me up because you want me to see who’ll fly first again, you will find me in front of your hotel room and it won’t be pretty.”

“You’re no fun,” Soonyoung whined. “SCoups hyung already looks after us. We don’t need another parent.”

“You’ve been warned.” You waited until each of them gave you a hug so you could leave. “Have fun guys. I miss you already.”

“Jagi wait. You didn’t kiss me yet.” Seungcheol puckered his lips, which left you no choice but to kiss him...so you did.

“I love you,” you told him quietly.

“Wait! I need 12 more.”

“Why?”

“One for luck at every show we play.”

“Did you really count that?”

“I did and I’m not boarding until you kiss me.”

“Stay safe,” you whispered once you complied with his request. He leaned his forehead to yours to try to keep the moment private.

“Stay strong. Will you be here for me while I’m gone?”

*

“Hyung,” Chan said, bringing Seungcheol out of his thoughts. “The whole world knows you’d rather be home right now, but rushing us out of the hotel won’t get us to Seoul faster. We have plenty of time to check out-”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned.

“I’m just saying that we will leave eventually, but for right now, come have lunch with us. Or at least sleep. You’ll kill time a little faster….”

In the background, he could hear Soonyoung and Minghao arguing over a phone charger and then Wonwoo piped in about having an extra one to use and that ended the little skirmish. Then the door closed and he wondered if Seungkwan went for more ice. He could taste the morning breath in his mouth and he made a face. He could see Junhui coming in the room and throwing his suitcase on the bed to pull something out. He could smell someone spraying their cologne. He could feel the towel he was currently wringing in his hands. His senses had been elevated and he knew Chan was still talking, still trying to relax a little, but he couldn’t hear him...or focus on him for that matter. Seungcheol knew he needed to keep his head a little longer. He could already feel you in his arms and promising to stay with you as long as he possibly could.

“Hyung?”

“Sounds great dude.” He ruffled the young boy’s hair.

“You’re okay with stopping at Pledis to let them know we got here safely?”

No, no he wasn’t. Once again, the duties of a leader kept him from being close to you. Scratch that, it wasn’t the leader role; it was him being the oldest sibling and ensuring everyone got home safely. He nodded. “Yeah.’

Chan thumped his forehead affectionately. “Liar. Let’s go get food.”

*

“Wait, what do you mean you guys are home right now?”

“Yeah, Hannie hyung needed to get rest too,” Mingyu informed you on the other side of the computer screen. “That’s two down and I’m pretty sure they sent us all home because if any more of us can’t perform in America and we’ll have to cancel it...wait, where are you right now?”

One thing you loved about Seungcheol was how he didn’t blab to them about your personal life. He knew you had to leave but it also sucked knowing now where he was. “I had to come visit my family for a little bit. With Cheol taking time off for anxiety, I couldn’t handle not being able to help him or you guys, so I had to run away.” You hated how easily your voice cracked for feeling weak. “I have to go see you guys. I need to go tell Seungcheol that he needs to stay there so he can rest up.” You already began looking at your surroundings, ready to throw all the stray clothes into your suitcase. You didn’t know where to start and you could feel the prickliness at your fingertips. “I need to go spend the holidays with you.” You shook your head a couple times to keep a clear head.

“Take a breather, dude before you have a panic attack.” He turned around quickly in case the boy in question decided to come into the room. “Hey, hey. He’s fine. They both are. Shua hyung is making sure they’re resting.”

It eased you a little. Joshua may not have been the frontman, but he still had the same responsibilities as the other two. You just hoped he didn’t fall apart at the seams too, not because Junhui would be in charge but because if anyone else went down, they’d have to cancel the whole thing...not that it’d be a bad idea but you preferred it to under different circumstances.

“You can’t change his mind, I hope you know that.”

“For what?”

“He’s already said he’s coming with us. He’ll just be behind the scenes.”

“And you’re okay with that?” You saw him take a deep breath but he didn’t answer. “Mingyu?”

“We need him. Going without him just wouldn’t feel right. Hannie hyung will be back by that time and he’ll be making the decisions.”

“Mingyu, this is Seungcheol’s health, not some fucking good luck charm you can’t be without.”’

“I know that. You think we didn’t try telling him that? If he wasn’t so stubborn, everyone would be telling him to get his ass on the next flight to you. I’m sorry.”

“Is he with you now? Okay what's he doing?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Let me talk to him. Please Mingyu. I need to see for myself he’s doing better.”

He debated for a moment and let out the longest, “Hyung!” you’ve ever heard, followed by various voices chiming in “What?” and a few other words. “I need SCoups hyung. He has a visitor.”

You don’t know why you lost all self control and started bawling when you saw Seungcheol but you couldn’t help it. You had so much you wanted to say but you couldn’t put it in words and you wanted to fling yourself into the screen and go straight into his arms so you could give him a hug and assure him he’d be okay and everything would work out but you couldn’t and that just made you cry more.

“Jagi, if you keep crying, I’m gonna start crying and then we’re gonna have a problem,” he said, trying to make a joke but you could see that he was on the edge of tears too.

“I can’t help it. You’re there and I’m here and we’re so faraway and you’re not onstage where you belong and I can’t stop you from going to North America with the boys so you can rest and everything just feels like it’s falling apart.” Oh what you wouldn’t give to feel him stroke your hair and tell you it’d be alright.

“At least you’re being honest,” he chuckled. “And now I need to kill Mingyu for worrying you over nothing. I’m being careful, my love. I already know you want me here when you come back, but I can’t.”

“I know,” you sobbed. “Your responsibility of being their leader and making sure they’re okay is too important to you.” You found a sweater which you used to wipe your eyes.

“If I wasn’t the leader, you know I’d be there with you, right?”

Even in your emotional state you managed to giggle a bit, and even momentarily forget the heartache at seeing each other like this. At seeing him staring back at you with confusion, your giggles turned into laughs and you were finally able to dry your eyes with no more tears following behind.

“Jagi, what’s so funny?” He frowned, his lips inadvertently forming into a pout and in that moment, you never loved another man more. 

“ Cheol, did you know you’ve never lied to me about something so important before now?” The way he looked so lost just made your heart beat a little faster and grow a little more, so you elaborated. “Nothing can come between you and those boys. Not your rest, not your tour, and especially not me.” Not that you’d ever want to, of course.

“Hey, that’s not true. I moved in with you, remember?” His frown deepened and his lips pursed more, still not understanding why you found this situation so hilarious. Granted, he loved seeing you happy, but he’d rather be in the loop.

“You only moved in with me because I didn’t wanna move into the dorms with you after an apartment in my building caught fire,” you pointed out.

“Stop exposing me,” he whined.

“Stop making me fall in love with you.”

“Never. Just wait a little bit longer. We’ll be together soon.”

*

Seungcheol bounced his leg impatiently, no doubt irritating Jihoon, but he couldn’t help it. Of all the bad luck in this world. He was so close and so tired and they’ve been waiting in the same spot for over an hour. He should’ve been there with you already, kissing your face over and over again and tracing every part of it to jog his memory. His phone bored him to the point where he didn’t bother to pick it up anymore. He stared out the window in hopes of finding a clue that the train would move again soon.

Jihoon placed his hand over Seungcheol’s knee, stopping him. “Hyung, please stop doing that. You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m sorry...I just need to get home already. And if we could get moving already, that’d be great. We should’ve been there if we didn’t stop here.”

“Listen, I get that, and I respect that, but please don’t let those puppies that got rescued hear that,” Jeonghan chimed in, still half asleep. “We could’ve hurt them.”

“I’m sorry puppies,” Seungcheol mumbled. He didn’t know how much longer they waited, but by the time they got moving again, the stars were out and he saw many people in their cars waiting on either side of the tracks to get home as the day drew to a close. And when the city started looking familiar, Seungcheol sat up ramrod straight and almost knocked Jihoon out of his seat once he knew exactly where they were. He pulled out his duffel bag, accidentally hitting Seokmin in the arm and that caused Seokmin to smack Joshua awake. He was by the doors even before the conductor announced this was the final stop and rushed the other boys to hurry up because he didn’t wanna wait on them. They just had to clear everything with Pledis and then he could go home and finally be with you. He couldn’t wait. 

Once the doors opened, Hansol made sure to grab Seungcheol by the shirt collar in an attempt to keep everyone together. Getting recognized would’ve only slowed them down more and Seungcheol knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You were so close. 

And it finally seemed that the universe aligned something for him because once he stepped foot outside of the train station, he looked at his surroundings, the smell of food vaguely reminding him that he needed to eat. The chatter was loud from every direction as the crowds passed him and them, paying them no mind. He could taste the M&Ms that Jihoon had been kind enough to share and that made him focus a little more, but then he saw you, and he gripped the carry-on.

You didn’t know he was there; you didn’t see him, he realized. He focused on the bag in your hands, recognizing the logo of his favorite fast food restaurant and his heart did the thing. His brain finally disconnected from everything as he dropped the carry-on.

And he ran towards you.

[currentfandomkick]

Miraculous Team and the Batboys

Longer update, wrote the ao3 version first this time. if you want to find me there, crazyjc.

--

Thankfully there weren’t any akuma attacks that day or that night. Marinette was glad to get some sleep for once. Her body, confused and used to a few hours a night, got her up early.

Marinette decided to help with the morning rush—quick to handle the register and make adjustments to some people’s orders (no extra charge for the exhausted high school and college students) when she managed to find someone as dead as she was after an akuma messed up her commission schedule and sleep was skipped for a week.

“Wow, you’re getting the ‘Please Don’t Let Me Die Again Yet’ special.” Marinette turned before the zombie could speak. “Maman, watch the register, someone looks worse than midterms and commissions me.”

Once Maman took the register again, Marinette worked on her disaster drink that only a few particular customers knew of from her personal menu--mainly the dead college and high school students insane enough to pull a weeks worth of all nighters like her. And baby parents that liked her parents bakery.

Gurarana beans instead for the extra caffeine with her special blend of licorice root, peppermint and green tea poured in--double the caffeine with less effort, glucose for the brain fuel, sweet and mint for wakeup and focus, and green tea for lasting energy boost.

“Here, this should keep you up and a bit more functional than usual.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, what got Finals Angel up this early?” One of the regulars almost yelled, staring at her with a look that screamed the universe was going to collapse in on itself, and they were now anticipating this outcome until they got their morning fix.

Marinette shrugged, moving to the next customer as the dead man took a seat and pulled out his laptop. She continued to help until it was getting close to class.

“Maman, the rest of that brew is under the cabinet for the laptop zombie, I’m taking my morning delivery now.”

Maman took over while Marinette made her way to school, passing out the usual deliveries as she moved about.

“Adrien, your insult to caffeinated monstrosities everywhere.”

“Thanks Marinette!” The blond held his (essentially) hot chocolate with one pump expresso, and five three shots of caramel on top of whip cream.

“Chloe, why you have me grab something this sweet this early is only further proof of your crimes against humanity.”

“You’re welcome Dupain-Cheng.” The girl nabbed her (in Marinette's opinion) low caffeine sugar water--licorice root with half a bottle of honey, and lots of ice with whip cream and honesy drizzled on top. She would never understand that order, but was too afraid to ask at this point. She might be taking the Bee thing too far.

“Alya, thank you for being a sane coffee person, Nino, we are having a talk about your scheduling.”

“Thanks gurl." Because close or not, Alya was an addict with a simple and reasonable coffee that restored Marinette's sanity while making it.

Nino groaned as he took his pastries and three cream, one expresso. “Not again, I still haven’t recovered from the last time.”

Marinette shrugged. “Your mistake, not mine.”

“Oh, did you get my cookies?” Sabrina asked.

Marinette rolled her eyes with a fond smile. She likes Sabrina when she isn't in full cling mode, and giving her boxes of pre-paid cookies put together on Marinette's whims? Very calming after dealing with Adrien and Chloe's offending orders. “Yes. You paid for a different set everyday.”

“Thanks!” Sabina examined her current mix, more obscure cookies since Marinette got them before the morning rush.

“Markov, please tell me Max got some sleep last night?” Marinette asked as she handed another of her special “Max needs a nap but is to stubborn to” order--which is essentially an energy drink blend with a few slow-release teas mixed in.

“Affirmative. He got the requested minimum of three hours. I will ensure he gets more once school is out.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” He was less prone to akumatazation with more sleep, and Hawkmoth does like using Max. Marinette likes knowing she can have her teammate in the field without wondering if he'll pass out.

Marinette took her seat by Alya. They weren’t as close anymore, but it did mean Lila was alone in the back and didn’t see the group document.

“Class, we have a new student today!”

Marinette frowned. She wasn’t informed of any newcomers. She looked over at Chloe who huffed. She didn’t know either then.

“Class, this is Damian Grayson from America. His father is here on business and will be joining us for the semester!”

Chloe and her shared a look. With Chloe as the current president and Marinette as the head of the welcome committee, this was very last minute for them not to be informed. Especially as Bustier had the time to since both were here early.

Alya shot her a look.

Marinette shook her head. She really didn’t know, and it bugged her.

Alya narrowed her eyes as the new boy came in. Black hair, stood too straight and Middle Eastern. She wondered what his first language was briefly--someone in school was bound to be fairly fluent. If it was related to Arabic, Rose would be a good translator. Her and Adrien both have Mandarin now, and her English was passable to Americans--not so much for the UK. Alya has Spanish while Nino has Portuguese covered. Chloe was good for UK English and so was Adrien, but those two weren't good for new kids... especially from the America. Mylene, Ivan, Nathaniel and Juleka were bad at talking most of the time, so they were no-gos...

And she still had to finish Ali's commission… This would be a headache if they were an old Chloe-type.

“Damian, why don’t you tell us about yourself.”

“No need to. I do not plan on making friends.”

And he was worse than an Old Chloe-type. There went her free period for commissions.

The entire class shared a look, and Marinette wanted to groan. This boy would be in for a rude awakening—there was no escaping friendship in Bustier’s class. And anyone difficult? They would sent Marinette as envoy--hopefully Alya didn't make easy.

“I presume my seat is in the back?”

“Actually,” Alya stood up with a grin, “I was going to sit back with Lila to help her catch up in our next class.”

Marinette froze as she realized what Alya was doing. Keeping the new kid from Lila was good, but she also needed to keep Alya from falling for Lila’s lies again. And she has no clue on his preferred languages and uh!

“Alya,” she hissed.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” Alya moved to the back with ease before the boy could say a word.

Marinette hit her head. Why was her friend like this?

“I guess that means you’ll sit next to Marinette. Marinette, can you show Damian around during your free period?”

Marinette knew that tone. There was no refusing without a lecture on being a good role model and another reprimand for stepping down from class representative and student government when she got more commissions and needed more time.

“Of course Miss Buster.”

Damian took his seat without saying a word.

Marinette decided it was better to stay silent with this one--he didn't want friends, and would only be here briefly. She could respect that, even if she could feel the others scheming otherwise.

“What do you mean you know—“

“Oops,” Lila grinned. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

And that was what Marinette was hoping to avoid.

Damian twitched next to her. Marinette sighed, “One sec, I need to remind someone to check her sources before getting ahead of themselves… again.”

Nino shot Marinette a sympathetic look while Marinette linked three redacted articles that starred Lila as her main source.

“And done.”

Damian raised an eye brow at her. “You aren’t going to pester me, correct?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Honestly? “You made your stance clear. I’m here as the actual head of the welcoming committee, and during free period I’ll just need to know your interests so we can avoid the parts of the school that aren’t relevant for you, and to make sure you have an idea how to handle akuma attacks since I’m going to guess they didn’t tell you about that before you applied.”

“tt,” Damian leveled her with a scowl. “Of course I know about them.”

Marinette didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “So you know where to go for shelter, the drills, the apps and news sources that are good for tracking, which hospitals are contactable during attacks and which ones go into lock down, oh and what actions are allowable and not as civilian aides to the miraculous team?”

The boy froze before her. He didn't then.

Her face slid into a more neutral one--keeping her gloating to herself.“That’s what I thought. I have a few flow charts in the committee room to grab since its an info dump and no one processes those well, and your learning style may benefit from it for all I know.” Marinette made sure not add ‘since some people can’t be bothered to tell me.’ The new boy clearly wasn’t interested in friendship, and despite what the class thinks, she is not friendship-nip.

“I…”

“Class, turn to page 67 of your textbook. Marinette, make sure to share with Damian.”

“Yes Miss Bustier,” Marinette moved the book between the two of them, ignoring Damian besides checking where his eyes were on the page before turning as they followed along.

Once their free period began, Adrien had a Chloe guarding him against the Lila octopus, with Sabrina flanking his other arm as backup.

“I take it those three are together?” Damian asked once they left.

“No, Chloe doesn’t share her friends well,” Marinette explained as they moved through the halls. “And it keeps away his fans, so no one stops it anymore.” Not unless they wanted the Mayor’s ire at least. It was very effective against Lila.

“I see…” He was watching her. She wasn’t sure if it was an American thing or just a tic of his. Possibly both.

“That’s where the teacher’s offices are for before and after school,” Marinette gestured to one wing. “All the doors are labeled, so its easy enough to find who you’re looking for as long as you have a name. You’ll find most of the school services there as well, minus the nurse who’s room is closer to the quad.”

Marinette smiled when they got to welcoming committee room. None of the other members were there at the moment, but the file cabinet was. She grabbed one of the ready-made packets and grabbed a spare Bustier Class packet too.

“Here’s the information for being new in Paris, everything from common places to eat, the good hole-in-the-wall places itemized by what you’re looking for, everything relating to akumas is on the red papers, and the yellow is the school’s map and procedures.” Marinette handed him the blue folder, then the orange. “This one is the Bustier-class specific one approved by Miss Bustier. It lists everything from class rules, what caused various akumatazations with the victim’s consent to disclose it, so not all are listed, and it has your schedule and the class outing dates plus who’s interested in what on the pink pages for possible friends, but you said you weren’t interested so we can skip that.”

Marinette watched him look over the papers for a moment, waiting until his attention was back to her. “Now, anything you have a vague interest in that you might have some random inclination to do at Dupont during your free periods, before or after school?”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her.

“Its you let me tailor the tour for you, or you have to go all over the school and talk to me the entire time, when we both know you’re really not interested.”

“Tt.”

Marinette shrugged. “Have it your way, now, on with the tour!”

--

Damian gawked at the core ciruculum including what he knew was more college level than high school level. Then there was the fact these students had access to multiple state of the art facilities tailored to current students interests on campus, with little issue getting them apparently.

“How does your school get all of this?”

The pigtail girl almost laughed at his question. “I guess they just sent you here since we have the most flexible curriculum routines then.” The girl shifted how she stood. “Dupont is an experimental school, everyone is given high expectations on entry but as long as you keep up with grades the school gets whatever any student requests—a few years ago we had one kid that was allowed to do rocket science as part of his program, he went to some German facility with a translator every other day. Alix has a blanket permit to do street art and installations on public property, as long as she gets her design approved and can give them her schedule as long as she helps other student with history classes. I get full access to any designing materials as part of my deal with the school in exchange for doing any school event costumes and tailoring jobs that I get a two week notice on.”

Damian nodded along, processing this new information. Suddenly, the high amount of akumas from graduates and current students of Dupont made sense. They were specialists, extremely skilled at their crafts and more likely to be knowledgeable than the general population on a variety of topics.

--

Marinette was glad for their hour-long lunch. “I’d ask if you wanted someone to eat with you, but you look like you need some time to process. I’ll check in before school ends.”

She ran home, noting that the man from that morning was still there but looked much less like he would keel over sometime soon. She knew that brew would help. She grabbed a croissant and ran upstairs to finish Prince Ali’s latest commission—a variant on his usual princely attire that was more maneuverable but still formal enough that no one would notice when he wore that one instead of the traditional one.

She had a feeling he was going to use it to sneak away from his guards.

She set an alarm and got to work.

She was quick to leave once the alarm sounded—she gave herself an extra five minutes this time.

“Hey, you’re the coffee angel, right?”

Marinette turned to see the man from that morning, now much more alive.

“I guess.” Marinette knew not to give out names to customers unless her parents deemed them not-stalker-y.

“Thanks, that thing actually worked. What’s in it?”

Marinette smiled at that. “Sorry, that’s a secret not even Maman and Papa get to know.”

“Huh,” the man processed her words. “Guess I’ll have to keep coming when I’m low then.”

Marinette nodded. “Guess so, good to see you’re no longer a zombie monsieur!”

She ran off at that, not sure what to think of them yet, other than if they needed that drink regularly, they might be worse than her. And she has heroing as an excuse. He doesn’t.

--

Holy shit was not expecting this response.

Thank you all so much, was not expecting this much positive response and i think my brain broke a bit, in the good way.

So, we have a new fan to Marinette's secret menu, and a Damian slowly realizing why the school is targetted who is also going with the 'I don't do friends' thing, again.

leaving this one as a poll: Damian calls out Lila by the end of the day for how Marinette and him end up as friends, or he puts together Marinette is doing a lot for the class by the end of the day and wants to figure out why, especially after reading the Ladyblog during lunch, or any other ideas.

Any ideas on how Marinette meets Dick and Jason for when she meets the next round of Batboys?

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Bombshell [B. Barnes] - 2

Pairing: British SHIELD Agent!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: swearing, (legal) alcohol consumption, explosions, memory loss, mentions of past trauma, mentions of death

Work Count: 5.8K

See end for Author’s Notes.

Masterlist  Previous Part

___

"Agent Y/L/N, what's your status?" the concerned voice crackled over the coms. "Y/L/N check in."

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you took out a guard.

"Jesus Rogers, we split up less than two minutes ago. I'm fine."

"I'm sorry for being concerned," Steve muttered sarcastically under his breath, the coms barely picked it up and you bit back a laugh, trying to remain stealthy.

You peaked your head around the corner, peering into the large room before you to ensure that it was empty. Once you were sure it was clear, you made your way around what appeared to be a storage room, checking for any objects of importance or secret passageways. As you cleared each wall, you made sure to slap a small disk to each one.

"Y/N, we're at the quinjet, what's your status?" Natasha came over the coms.

"Just finishing up down here Nat," you replied lightly, making your way back to the stairs, slapping a few more disks in the hallway for good measure. "Who's 'we'?"

"Steve and me."

You sighed, equal parts worried and relieved. "Wilson, what's your position?"

"Couple Nazis on the roof, I've got it covered," Sam responded with a grunt.

"Take them out quickly, please," you ordered, holding your position on the stairs. "I'm activating the bombs and we'll only have a couple of minutes to get out of here."

"Yes ma'am," Sam answered, and you almost thought you could hear him mock salute you, "Will you have enough time?"

"What do you take me for?" You gasped, offended, "an amateur?"

Sam barked out a laugh and you couldn't help but smile in response.

"Nazis down." He announced over the coms. "Commence explosions."

"With pleasure," you smirked, pressing the button on the activator. "T-minus five minutes to detonation." You announced, running up the stairs. "Nat?"

"We're in position." The redhead affirmed over coms and you ran harder, making sure to press the button on each floor to activate the bombs you had placed on your way to the basement.

You had about two minutes to spare by the time you reached the roof, pushing yourself harder as you sprinted up the quinjet ramp.

"Go!" You barked out, Nat immediately pulling the jet off the roof and into the sky, the ramp not even closed.

"I... am going... to kill... Stark." You panted, doubled over as you tried to catch your breath. You could hear the explosions in the distance as the building beneath you was destroyed. "Honestly... would it kill him... to make longer-ranged bombs?"

"Well, to be fair, we've never had an explosives expert on the team before." Steve defended only to be met with a glare.

"That's no excuse." You glowered. "They had better bombs in World War Two and you know it!"

You had seen some of them yourself in Tripp's suitcase of Howling Commandos gadgets that he got from his grandfather. They may have been bigger and a pain in the ass to set, but at least they gave an adequate amount of time to get to safety.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Steve echoed the same sentiment,

"These ones are a helluva lot easier to set." He argued, tossing one of the round explosives in one hand.

"Rogers, you idiot." You snapped, snatching the bomb out of the air before he could catch it again. "This is a bomb, not a toy!"

Steve had the gall to smile while you scolded him. "Jesus, that is not something I should have to say to someone who is nearly one-hundred-years-old."

"Relax, Y/N, it's not like it's gonna explode." The super-soldier placed a hand on your shoulder and you scowled up at him.

"It very well could!" You knew that he was right, the explosive was stable and could only be activated with the remote, however, now the argument was about principle. "Who's the explosives expert here, hm?"

"How did a history major become an expert in blowing things up?" Sam asked curiously, breaking up your petty argument.

"Well, I've been exploding things since I was a little girl," you began, making a show of putting the bomb back into its designated case before plopping down into one of the many seats lining the interior of the quinjet. "My dad was a science teacher and we used to do all kinds of experiments together. Coke and Mentos, baking soda volcanos, film canister rockets- the works."

You sighed happily, though Sam and Steve didn't miss the sad look in your eyes that was always present when you talked about your family.

"I sort of naturally drifted towards real explosives after SHIELD recruited me." You shrugged and Sam nodded understandably, but Steve was staring at you as if you had just told him the moon was orange.

"What happens when you mix Coke and Mentos?" He asked warily and yours and Sam's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Y-you don't know?" Sam spluttered out through his shock.

Steve shook his head slowly, looking even more alarmed by your response to his question.

"Oh, Stevie, we are going to have so much fun when we get back." You grinned already choosing which of Tony's labs you would be hijacking.

___

"So what did you do for fun when you were a kid?" You asked as you sat on the floor of one of the many Stark labs at the Tower.

A soda-covered tarp sat abandoned nearby and you and Steve were surrounded by nearly-empty two-liters of Coke. After touching back down in New York, you immediately ran out to buy the soda and mints necessary for the classic experiment. You had a hypothesis that Steve might want to repeat the explosion more than once, a hypothesis that the man readily proved correct. Now you sat facing each other, steadily drinking your way through the flat soda left in the bottom of the plastic bottles because you had insisted it was "tradition."

"Well, my ma and I were pretty poor, even before the Depression hit." Steve began, taking a swig of the nearest two-liter and grimacing slightly at the taste of slightly-minty flat Coke. "We couldn't afford to go out much, so we made do with what we had at home. I remember I spent about a week drawing playing cards when our deck fell apart. I used to draw a lot back then."

You recognized the look of mixed nostalgia and grief in Steve's eyes as he spoke about the past; it was a look you were intimately familiar with yourself.

"When Bucky and I moved in together after my ma passed he'd let me sketch him while he cooked or baked in the kitchen." Steve smiled, a faraway look in his eyes as he recounted the past.

"You never helped out?" You asked, teasing lacing your voice.

"Nah," Steve laughed. "I was hopeless in the kitchen, still kinda am. After I nearly burnt down the kitchen twice Buck stopped letting me anywhere near the stove."

You smiled, thoroughly enjoying Steve's storytelling. He seemed at ease in that moment, completely relaxed and open, something rare for Captain America. The wheels began to turn in your own head when he brought up his childhood best friend, now a fugitive with spotty memories of his own past.

"What were his favorite things to make?" You asked and Steve grinned, though it was so natural you weren’t even sure he realized he was doing it.

"I was too sick to work back then, and with only one source of income we were still pretty disadvantaged, but on special occasions, Bucky would make this baked apple pudding that was divine."

"Divine, huh?" You giggled, tucking that information away. "I wish I could've tried it."

"I actually might still have the recipe." Steve perked up at the thought and you stared at him, puzzled.

"How do you still have a recipe from the thirties?"

"When I went into the ice the SSR boxed up everything in my apartment for 'records.' When I woke up SHIELD gave them all back to me." The blond downed the last of the flat soda and jumped to his feet, practically buzzing in excitement. "C'mon let's go look for it!"

"Slow down there, cowboy." You held out a cautionary hand before gesturing at the lab. "We have to clean all this up first so Stark doesn't kill us."

Steve groaned but relented and you spent the next fifteen minutes making sure Tony would never know they had exploded soda in his "state-of-the-art, high-tech labs."

___

"Sergeant Barnes, it's Agent Y/L/N. I'm coming in." You announced into the speaker, the door beside it unlocking with a click as the technology recognized your voice.

The cabin was dark when you entered but before you could reach out to flip the light switch next to the door you were pinned to the wall, grocery bags falling to the floor.

You couldn't help the gasp that escaped your lips though you made sure to control your breathing the way you were trained to. You knew what to do in this situation but needed to remain calm to do it. The arm pressing across the top of your chest made it difficult to breathe steadily, but you were able to manage after a minute of focusing on remaining still and slowing your heart rate.

"Sergeant Barnes." You managed to get out, your voice a bit raspy albeit steady.

The man growled at the name and said something in Russian that you couldn't understand.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes." You began again. "You were a Sergeant of the one-hundred-and-seventh division in World War Two. On a mission to intercept an enemy transport, you were injured and captured by Hydra. Hydra experimented on you and brainwashed you."

You could feel the muscles in the arm relax, though the man wasn't close to removing it just yet, so you continued.

"I am Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Three months ago we met in Washington D.C. and I brought you to this safe house. Every week since then I have come here to check in on you and bring you groceries."

This wasn't the first time you had been met with the Winter Soldier when you arrived at the safehouse and you had had to quickly learn how to bring Sergeant Barnes back. You had found the Soldier responded best to facts, and so you would lay out the facts that led Barnes to that moment in the most even and calm voice you could, allowing the Soldier to stand down and Barnes to come through.

"You are not the Winter Soldier, Sergeant Barnes." You reminded him evenly, and after a moment you felt the man relax entirely and stager quickly away from you.

"Agent Y/L/N, I'm so sorry." He gasped, voice ragged as he quickly worked to pick up the groceries that had fallen out of their bags when you had dropped them.

"It's quite alright, Sergeant Barnes. I know that wasn't you."

It was easy to say because you believed it, though you hadn't always. When you had initially brought Barnes to the abandoned SHIELD safehouse it had been to monitor him to see how much of him overlapped with his assassin alter ego. After about a month of observation, you had found that there was no overlap between the two, other than the fact that Barnes held the Soldier's memories. Hydra had tried to erase everything that made James Buchanan Barnes the man he was when creating their super-powered assassin.

"What's all this?" Barnes asked quietly, starring perplexed at the groceries, particularly the bag full of baking supplies.

"I thought you and I might bake something together," you said, trying not to give away your entire plan.

You had hoped to jog the man's memories a bit however you wanted to avoid accidentally planting false memories.

"I... I think I would like that?" The man said, though it came out more like a question as he still wasn't really sure what he did and didn't like anymore.

You smiled reassuringly. "Well then, lets hop to it!"

You worked quickly to put away the rest of the groceries before you laid out the ingredients for your bake on the counter.

"First and foremost those apples are going to need to be peeled and chopped," You said, nodding towards the apples as you held out a knife to the man beside you.

The two of you stood just like that for a moment, you with your arm holding out the knife and Barnes not taking it from you before you finally looked over at the man.

"What's the matter, Sergeant Barnes?" You asked, your accent clipped with concern.

"I can't be trusted." He said softly, and you almost missed it.

"Really now, Barnes, would I be trying to give you a knife if I thought you would hurt me?" You tried to reason, hoping you were doing enough to quell his anxieties. "I trust you, Sergeant Barnes, even if you don't trust yourself."

"James." He spoke so quietly that you weren’t sure if he had even spoken at all.

"What was that?"

"James," He repeated, more confidently this time. "You can call me James."

He wasn't sure why he had said it. From what he could remember, he hated the name James, everybody had called him Bucky. You were confused by it as well. You had never once heard Steve refer to him as James, always Buck or Bucky. Regardless, a first-name basis was a step in the right direction and you would take it.

"Alright then, James," you smiled at the man, "Those apples aren't going to cut themselves."

"Yes ma'am!" He joked as he finally took the knife from your hand, seeming to surprise himself as much as he surprised you and you smiled even wider.

You worked in mostly silence, the kitchen filled only with the sounds of your labor and James giving instructions- you had given him the recipe right away, hoping it would spark some memories. He didn't tell you if it had, but he moved through the kitchen with an ease and comfort you had yet to see from the man. You thought maybe he didn't realize; that he was having a subconscious reaction to being back in the kitchen, baking something that had at one point held such significance to him.

"Alright, Stevie, desserts in the oven, whaddya want for dinner?" James asked, his back to you as he rifled through the fridge. As soon as the words left his mouth he paused, slumping inwards on himself.

"James?" You asked softly, cautiously stepping towards the man.

"I- I remembered something." He said brokenly, and you decided it was safe to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Steve- I- we used to live together, I think," James spoke, gripping the fridge door tightly in an attempt to support himself. "I- I used to bake this for him, I- where did you get this recipe?"

His voice had turned somewhat hostile with the last question but you stood your ground, not stepping back from the man in front of you.

"Steve gave it to me," you said softly, hoping he could hear the honesty in your voice, "He told me how you used to make it for him."

"Is he- does he know I'm here?" James asked as he turned around to face you, eyes and voice filled with panic.

"No, and I won't tell him until you tell me you're ready."

"Thank you, Agent Y/L/N."

"It's Y/N." You smiled kindly, "Now, what should we have for dinner?"

___

"This mean anything to you?" You asked, eyebrow raised inquisitively as you set the old paper down in front of Skye.

"Where did you get this?" The agent gasped, breezing past the fact that no one was supposed to know what she had been working on.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for you, nearly everyone at SHIELD seemed to think you knew more than you did.

"The Avengers brought me along on a Hydra raid. Found that in the basement of the warehouse, thought it looked familiar." You pointed to the worn parchment laid out on the table.

It was covered in an interlocking series of lines and circles that you didn't understand but you had seen Skye working on something similar in the past months.

"Does anyone know you have this?"

"Nope." You answered, a sly grin on your face. "Nabbed it before I left and then blew up the entire building, so Hydra won't know it’s missing either."

"What do you know about it?" Skye asked, seeming to have realized that this was supposed to be between her and Coulson.

"Nothing, other than that Coulson's had you working on it in secret for a few months now," you answered honestly. "You have to be a little quicker when closing down the holoscreen." You added when you noticed Skye's confusion.

"Noted," Skye responded dryly. "Well, thank you for the old parchment but I can't tell you anything else."

"I didn't expect you to," you smiled before asking, "How about something you can talk about? Like what happened with Browning?"

"Hunter's still pissed we've been shadowing them," Skye smirked and you laughed, not even slightly surprised. The mercenary was more a fan of his paychecks than of SHIELD's protocols. "But an enhanced took out Browning before we could get to him. We're pretty sure he's with Hydra which means they're after the 0-8-4 too."

"Big surprise there," you sighed, the world may think Hydra is gone but you knew the truth: they were just biding their time in the shadows once again.

"So when do we go out to collect it before they can?" You asked curiously, having been off base when the first mission had occurred and Coulson wasn't exactly accepting visitors to his office.

"As soon as we figure out where the government is keeping it." Skye sighed and you groaned. The US Government, or more specifically General Talbot, had been making SHIELD's operations even more difficult lately.

"Is he in the lab?" You asked, changing the subject.

"He's barely left, he's working on the samples we collected from the enhanced right now."

You frowned but nodded in thanks to the agent before making your way towards the lab.

Fitz hadn't been doing much better, he was still struggling to come up with words and his hands were still shaky. Additionally, he seemed to be talking to himself, or rather, a version of Simmons he had conjured up for himself. In your downtime on the base, you found herself just sitting in the lab, an option for Fitz to talk to if he wanted but you always brought a book or something to occupy yourself if not. Today you were sitting on the floor, leaning against a lab station while reading Rob Chernow's biography Alexander Hamilton.

"Uhh, Y-Y/N," Fitz began to panic, waving his hand wildly to get your attention.

"What is it?" You asked worriedly, quickly getting to your feet to stand next to the scientist.

"Y-you see that too, right?"

You did see. The metal samples Fitz had been analyzing had begun to ooze with a red liquid.

"Is that... blood?" You asked, face contorted in disgust and slight fascination.

Before Fitz could answer, the two of you watched as the pieces of metal turned into what appeared to be human flesh.

"What the hell?" You muttered under your breath while Fitz relaxed beside you.

"This is good, I mean- weird, but I can-" Fitz stuttered out tensing up once again and shaking his hand as he tried to come up with the words, looking over his shoulder as if looking to someone else for the answer.

"Figure out who's blood it is?" You supplied and Fitz nodded.

"Shouldn't be too hard." He affirmed quietly under his breath as if he needed to convince himself.

"Well you've got my help regardless," You smiled and Fitz nodded lightly before doling out instructions.

It wasn't the first time you had served as Fitz's hands in the lab and you fully intended to offer your services as long as he still needed them. Working together it took you about an hour to analyze the sample and search the various world DNA databases for a match, eventually finding one in SHIELD's own database.

"Carl Creel?" Fitz read the name out loud as you both peered at the monitor.

"We crossed him off the Index?" You asked skeptically, it wasn't uncommon for SHIELD to take out potentially dangerous enhanced individuals in the past, but clearly they hadn't done a very good job with Creel.

You pondered how SHIELD could've been so careless when Fitz pointed to the supervising agent listed on the report.

"Of course it was Garrett," you sighed. "We should get this to Coulson."

___

"Why am I here Maria?" You asked harshly, arms crossed as you stared at the woman. "I could've been helping Coulson."

"I get that you want to help, Y/N, but you still work here and you have to keep up appearances," Maria said firmly, ignoring her friend's scowl. "If you really want to help SHIELD, you'll keep your cover intact."

You rolled your eyes but you knew Maria was right. If you spent too much time away from the Tower the Avengers would get suspicious and they couldn't know that Coulson or SHIELD were still alive.

"Plus, you know you can't get involved with Talbot."

You rolled her eyes again.

"Why does it matter Mar? He clearly saw us both when we crossed his team at Providence. Why does it matter if he sees me with SHIELD again?"

"Y/N, you and I both know why it matters, you're just being stubborn. As far as the world is concerned, SHIELD is a terrorist group and if you're associated with them-"

"It'll bring a lot of bad PR to the Avengers and I'll have to step down from both organizations to protect them." You finished for her, sighing frustratedly. "I know, Maria, I just hate it."

"Go blow off some steam, hang out with the team, whatever you need to do," Maria instructed in the motherly tone she had used when she was your SO. "There's a classified mission on the books to explain your absence."

As if summoned, Sam walked into the conference room moments after Maria had finished speaking.

"Hey! Y/N is back!" He exclaimed, a grin on his face. "Where ya been?"

"That, my friend, is classified," you answered with a sly smirk before turning to Maria in order to keep up appearances, "Am I finished with my debrief, Agent Hill?"

"You're free to go, Agent Y/L/N," Maria confirmed before turning to Sam, "Next time, knock before you burst into occupied meeting rooms, Mr. Wilson."

"You could just lock the door," Sam shot back but retracted it when he was met with Maria's no-nonsense glare. "Yes ma'am, I'll knock next time."

You did your best to hold back your laughter at the interaction until you and Sam had left the room. You immediately erupted into giggles and Sam groaned.

"I don't know why you guys even bother with all that 'Agent Hill' 'Agent Y/L/N' crap." He said, trying to turn the tables on you as you boarded the elevator. "We all know you're friends, it's so unnecessary."

"It's about professionalism, Sam," you answered, smirking. "I know you don't get it because the Avengers lack any sense of professionalism whatsoever but-"

"Hey! I take great offense to that!" A voice yelped from behind you and you turned to see that Tony was on the elevator as well.

"Oh please, Stark, you're the worst perpetrator of unprofessionalism." You pointed out and Sam snorted.

"I'm not the one who exploded coke all over one of the labs with Rogers last week," Tony shot back and you flushed.

"That was on our off time and we cleaned it up!" You protested, "How'd you even find out about that?"

"You think I don't have surveillance in my labs?"

"Wait you guys did the Coke and Mentos without me?" Sam whined right as the elevator doors opened on the gym floor.

"Oh, look at that, this is my floor," you said, rushing off the elevator to escape your friend's inevitable wrath for leaving him out of the childish experiment.

"No way, Y/L/N, you're not getting off that easy," Sam followed you and you broke into a run.

You sprinted down the hallway towards the gym doors, Sam hot on your heels.

"Steve! Nat! Help!" You squealed as you burst through the double doors, darting behind Steve's tall frame as he stood in front of a punching bag.

"Get back here, Y/L/N!" Sam yelled as he ran through the doors, still swinging from your entrance.

"What's this about, Sam?" Steve asked in mock seriousness as the man stalked towards them.

"Oh good Rogers, you're here too," Sam said and Steve had the mind to look alarmed right before Sam landed a hit on the super soldier's arm.

"Sam! What the hell was that for?"

"You guys blew up pop without me!"

"I didn't know you were supposed to do it with us!" Steve protested and the pair went silent for a moment.

Then you found herself struggling in Steve's arms as he turned on you.

"Steve! Let me go!" You gasped.

"Tell Sam you're sorry," Steve instructed, and you bit back a laugh, schooling your face into one of determination.

"Never!" You yelled, using your years of training to maneuver out of Steve's grip and using his weight to your advantage to flip him to the ground, his back landing hitting the mat below them with a thud.

Natasha let out a whoop from the other side of the gym where she had been silently observing. "That's my girl!"

You shot the redhead a grin as you took up a defensive stance. "Try me, Wilson." you dared.

Sam looked between the British agent and the blond supersoldier who was still lying between the mat before standing down.

"Nah," he shook his head, "Just invite me next time."

You snorted but agreed.

"Hey Y/N, wanna spar?" Nat called from the other side of the gym where she was already wrapping her fists.

"Sure," you answered with a laugh, "I love getting my ass kicked by former Soviet operatives."

Sam, Steve, and Nat all laughed and you flipped them off mockingly as you walked to the locker room to change out of your work clothes.

___

"I got here as soon as I could," you said sadly as you knelt next to Skye.

You were in Hartley's room and Skye was packing up the agent's belongings.

"How's everyone holding up?"

"I think we're all compartmentalizing," Skye sighed, folding up a piece of clothing and placing it in the suitcase. "Coulson won't mourn until we find out if Hunter snitched, and Mack and Tripp are putting all their efforts into reverse-engineering the quinjet's cloaking."

You had to remind yourself to take a deep breath to stop yourself from going off about the cloaking. You were less than thrilled with how Coulson, and truly the rest of the team, had been handling Fitz since the accident, and now they had gone ahead and found a cloaking solution even though Fitz had been working on one for months. You knew the organization desperately needed it, but you thought Coulson could've at least brought Fitz on to what they were doing instead of keeping him in the dark. But now wasn't time to get into that debate, now was the time to mourn Hartley and Idaho.

You helped Skye pack up the rest of Hartley's belongings until you were joined by Hunter, who had apparently decided not to betray SHIELD. You gave the two of them space, heading to the lab instead. Your presence there had started as a way to comfort Fitz, but at some point, the grey tiles and sterile surfaces had become something of a comfort to yourself. You had planned to just sit in a corner and stew in your emotions, maybe text Nat or Steve or Sam, but when you approached Mack was there talking to Fitz. You stood in the doorway, not wanting to enter the room and interrupt whatever they were doing. It was rare for other team members to seek out Fitz in the lab, everyone was too afraid of what they'd find.

You watched as Fitz handed Mack a file, the taller agent looking them over.

"I didn't solve this today." Fitz blurted but instead of wincing or pointedly looking anywhere but at the man, Mack looked up from the files to look the scientist in the eyes.

"You think you can?"

You cursed yourself as you let an excited gasp escape you. It immediately drew the two men's attention and the atmosphere of the lab changed.

"Y/N," Mack acknowledged and Fitz looked down shyly.

"I was just coming here for some peace, but I'd love to help," you explained your eavesdropping sheepishly.

"I think we could use the extra hands." Mack smiled and you grinned, stepping into the lab.

"What're we looking at?" You asked, stepping forward to look at the file that was now placed on one of the many lab tables.

It wasn't long before you had a cluster of lab techs gathered around the three of you as Fitz doled out instructions.

"It's about the.. the resonant," Fitz explained, though it was clear that none of the techs quite knew what he meant by the way their eyes flitted between you and Mack for help.

Fitz noticed the looks and you frowned as he clutched the wires he had been holding closer to his chest. "I didn't solve this today."

"So, what is this?" Mack asked, holding up another object that you didn't recognize. "Is this some sort of sonic device? Like the cloaking?"

You watched as the two men grew increasingly frustrated with each other.

"No, I- ugh, I didn't-" Fitz fumbled, his tone becoming more helpless as he continued to be misunderstood.

"Sorry, forget the cloaking." Mack waved it off and you glared at the techs as they exchanged wary looks. "No one blames you for that, let's just focus on Creel."

You yelped slightly as Fitz threw the papers off the lab table they'd been working at and Mack yelled for him to calm down.

"Get. out." You growled at the techs as they exchanged another look when Fitz turned his back to the group. They scampered off and Fitz turned back around to face them.

Okay." He said, taking a deep breath.

"Take it easy," Mack told the man and you frowned as you saw Fitz become visibly upset again.

'Look, I didn't solve this today!" He exclaimed and Mack matched his frustrations.

"Yeah, I know! You've said that already!" He yelled back.

"No!" Fitz exclaimed, "I didn't solve this today."

Mack looked like he was about to blow his top but you finally made the connection.

"You mean you've solved this before?" You asked him eagerly, eyes alight with the realization.

Fitz nodded excitedly, his posture relaxing slightly now that he had gotten his point across.

"Wait, you mean this is an old design?" Mack asked

"Yes! Yes!" Fitz said and you reached for a tablet, pulling up the designs from the past year.

"Okay, we're with you, Turbo," Mack said as they gathered around the tablet.

You began to flip through the designs, a few of which you recognized from various SHIELD reports until Fitz stopped you at one called the Overkill Device.

"Let's tell the team." You grinned at Fitz who looked quite proud of himself as he looked over the schematics.

___

"Did you get the 0-8-4?" You asked eagerly as the team filed off the quinjet.

You had been bitter that you weren’t brought in on the mission, especially since it had nothing to do with Talbot or any other government official but you knew you had accomplished something big back on base so you were willing to let it go.

"No," Hunter shook his head, "But we got Creel."

He jerked his thumb behind him a few agents escorted Creel off the Bus. Hunter wore a shit-eating grin and even dared to throw some taunts at the man as he passed them. You knew this was important to him, after what the man did to Hartley and Idaho.

"So Fitz's device worked?" You were thrilled, he needed a win, and this was a big one.

"Worked like a charm!" Hunter answered, taking a break from yelling insults at Creel's back.

"Woah, what the hell happened to Skye, Tripp, and May?" You demanded as the three slowly made their way off the plane with help from Coulson, each of them glaring daggers at Hunter as they passed by. "And Coulson was in the field?"

"A lot happened, I'll fill you in over a beer," Hunter said, making his way into the base and you followed.

You were mostly quiet as they made your way to the kitchen, Hunter grabbing you two bottles from the fridge.

"So what did you do to piss off May, Tripp, and Skye and to get Coulson into the field?" You asked as they sat on the barstools that lined the kitchen island.

"Might've iced them all to get a shot at Creel," Hunter shrugged nonchalantly and you gaped.

"You what?"

"Then Coulson took Creel down with Fitz's device and offered me a job at SHIELD." Hunter continued, speaking like this was just another day at the office for him.

"Hunter, that doesn't make any sense. You shot three of our agents!"

"With ICERS!" Hunter protested, "I wouldn't have killed them!"

You merely raised an eyebrow as if to say "wouldn't you have?"

"Y'know what? I take great offense to that, Y/L/N." Hunter said, using the hand holding his beer to gesture at your face. "I think I'd quite like to drink alone now."

"You're such an ass, Hunter." You laughed, standing up from your stool.

"Funny, that's what my ex-wife told me before we split up." He joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you around, Agent Lance Hunter," you smirked at Hunter's grimace and grabbed two more beers from the fridge, carrying them back to the Hanger.

As you expected, the Bus ramp was down and Mack and Fitz were stood inside.

"You look like you could use some refreshments." You joked as you walked up the incline to stand with the two men, handing each one a bottle.

"What's this for?" Mack asked, an easy smile on his face as he accepted the drink.

"To celebrate, of course," you answered, "Without Fitz, we never could've captured Creel, and if Coulson's plans to hand him over to Talbot works we might finally have the military off our asses."

"I'll drink to that," Mack said and you saw Fitz smile, the three of you clinking your bottles together.

___

a/n: Lot’s of jumps in this one. I think I’ve kinda decided that’s how most chapters are going to be- I’ve got a lot of ground to cover between here and endgame and I don’t want this story to drag on too much. Since the story is in Season 2 of Agents of SHIELD right now I think the Avengers parts are going to be a little lighter to balance out the heavier SHIELD moments (Though I did manage to get in an Avengers action scene). That’ll shift once we reach MCU territory. Also, first full Bucky encounter! Let me know what you think!

[kodigriffinofficial20]

Ok, so here is the next Q&A that I’m posting. This one was filled out a while ago so bear that in mind when reading it. Some of the answers are not very recent or accurate. I tried to go through and update the ones that were wrong, but I might have missed a couple.

1. Zodiac sign?

I’m not ted Cruz.

2. Sexual orientation?

Alycia Debnam Carey.

3. Relationship status?

Seeking someone to rule the world (and eventually the universe) by my side and cuddle.

4. Someone you miss

My grandmother.

5. Person who’s arms you’d like to be in?

Alycia Debnam Carey.

6. What you find attractive in Men/Women?

A sense of humor mainly, good taste in food, and be able to understand me. Also being Alycia Debnam Carey is pretty good as well.

7. How tall are you?

6 foot 3.

8. What you love about yourself?

My imagination.

9. What you’re doing tomorrow?

I don’t even know what I’m doing today.

10. What are your future plans?

World domination.

11. Your last night out in detail?

I have never had a “night out” in my life.

12. Your favourite book?

The Darth bane trilogy. But just one book would have to be, journey to the center of the earth by Jules Verne.

13. All of pets you’ve ever had?

A dog named precious, a dog named Lucy, a dog named Licorice, two cats named Freckles and Boots, three gerbils named Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael, four ginea pigs named Oreo, Arrow, brownie, and Cookie (I know, food based names), algae sucker fish named Algae (clever right?), and about 10 gold fish. My current pets are three dogs named Bear, Lady, and Blue.

14. Something that changed your life?

I almost died from a collapsed lung and that is when I realized I wanted to become a writer.

15. Do you remember your last dream? Probably not. But the last dream I do remember is me and my family had just moved to a new house with a ranch on the property and we let our dogs lose on the property while we sat on the porch.

16. What your last text message says?

“Should I add a fox a coyote or a wolf to the story?”

17. Do you respect your government and the way your country is run?

Respect? Yes. Like it? Not really. Wish some things would change? Yes.

18. Where you would like to live?

In the mountains with land, a few trees and a small river on the property. I don’t really have a specific place in mind.

19. Your favourite flavour of ice cream?

Neapolitan.

20. Last thing you ate?

Doughnut. (Jealous?)

21. Which swear word do you use the most?

Crap. I’m a very sheltered person.

22. Your plans for summer?

Staying home and hating people from afar. I social distanced before it was cool. And I will be doing it after the quarantine lifts as well. The only things I will do is go to Taco Bell, Culvers, and McDonald’s maybe Denny’s, probably not though.

23. Any upcoming concerts?

I didn’t go to them before, I definitely won’t go to them now.

24. Something that you’re proud of?

No, not really.

25. Do you still talk to your first crush?

Nope.

26. What language do you want to learn?

All of them. But more realisticly spanish first, then Italian, and maybe German later on. That’s if I ever actually do that, so it most likely won’t happen.

27. Where you have lived before?

Sandwich Illinois (I know, sandwich?)

28. Eye color?

Green, sometimes blue, sometimes blue green.

29. Favourite style of clothing?

Comfort. I will always look like I am going to the gym in clothes two sizes to big. Because those clothes are comfortable and I don’t care what people think of me. Or pjs if I’m home.

30. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

As long as it takes to pee, brush teeth and walk out my room. So, about three to four minutes.

31. Where did you go today?

The kitchen. The bathroom. And the living room.

32. Where are you right now?

In my bed.

33. How many countries have you visited?

Does America count if I live there.... oh I went to Idaho once trust me that place is a different country.

34. Something old?

My blanket I sleep with every night that my mom made me when I was born.

35. Something new?

The husky dog that I recently got named Blue.

36. Something inherited?

A set of three, snake handled swords of varying lengths that I got after my grandpa died.

37. Is death more scary than life?

No.

38. Experience you’ll never forget?

Nothing because memory is fleeting and so is life. Everything you have ever or will ever experience ceases to exist at some point in the future. But probably the time I almost died from a collapsed lung.

39. What’s your favorite part about today so far?

Writing this.

40. Who is your hero?

Spider-Man.

41. Are you happy with where you live?

Absolutely not.

42. Do you like your handwriting?

Can’t stand it.

43. What do you wear to bed?

Shirtless (because it’s hot) and shorts.

44. Tea or coffee?

Neither I am a water or cool aid man. I know very boring but sometimes I will dip into the strong stuff and drink a Pepsi or Dr Pepper. Unless I feel like drinking a beer, a root beer that is.

45. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Chocolate most of the time. Just depends on what I am craving.

46. Are you excited for anything?

Being done with my almost done book.

47. How late did you stay up last night and why?

1:00 🕐 Couldn’t sleep because of reasons.

48. What’s your ringtone?

Whatever the phone came with.

49. Did you have a dream last night?

I think so, I feel like I did but don’t remember it.

50. Picture of yourself

[willow-salix]

Isolation Island update.

Day 64 of Isolation on Tracy Island and John and I made a terrible mistake today. What mistake could you possibly have made, I hear you ask? Well, we made a serious error in judgement...OK , I’ll admit it, I made the error in judgement, if I don't correct that John will do it for me. I thought that it might be a fun idea to record Live from Five on the island for once and get the other boys involved. Yes, I know, I had a case of the dumb. I've been told it frequently over the last four hours.

“OK, we’re out, we’re done,” I sighed, never having been so relieved to have cut a feed. Usually we’re on our own up there and take the chance to have a few hours of quiet. Not this time. 

“That was fun,” Alan grinned.

“Not how I would have described it,” John muttered, getting up and heading to the kitchen for a drink.

“It was fun to answer questions,” Gordon added, ignoring the grump that was his brother.

“That wasn't all of them,” I replied. “There were some more, but I picked out some of the best ones.”

“What were the others?” Scott asked.

“Oh you know, boring things like favorite food, favorite subjects at school, that sort of thing.”

“Yep, boring,” Gordon yawned. “Nothing else?”

I handed him my tablet to have a look at. He scrolled through the questions that had been submitted.

“Boring...rubbish...not answering that...hey, why didn't you ask this one?”

“Which one?”

“This one,” he pointed.

“If you could be any superhero, who would you be?” I read over his shoulder. "Huh, I must have missed that one."

"Yeah, that's a great question. Who would I be?" 

“Well that’s easy, Gordo, you would be Aquaman,” Virgil answered promptly. “Powerful in the water.”

"Hell yeah, King of Atlantis, can talk to sea creatures. I'd love that."

“Virgil would be the Hulk,” Alan joined in. “Big and green and likes to smash things.”

“I would not!” He looked genuinely insulted by that. 

“No, you would be Superman,” Gordon told him. “Strong, dependable, always on the side of good.”

“That’s better. Ruggedly handsome too."

“Who would you be?” I asked Scott.

“I don’t know.”

“You’d be Captain America,” Alan told him. 

I thought about it for a second then nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, he’d make a great Captain America.”

“I would?”

“Sure you would!” Alan assured him.

“Yeah, think about it. Military guy, stands up for injustice, born leader, smart as anything, always got a plan, always gets the job done,” I told him, ticking off items on my fingers.

"You would definitely be Captain America," Kayo agreed. 

“Jeff would be Nick Fury, just done with everyones crap and needs a vacation.”

“I can very much agree with that,” Jeff muttered from his desk where he was trying to work, emphasis on the trying.

“Or Tony Stark, inventing things to save the world,” I pondered out loud. “You wanna be Iron Man, Jeff?”

“Do I get any cool gadgets?”

“You get a super suit!”

“That’ll do. Yes, I’ll be him then.”

“Who would I be?” Alan wanted to know, bouncing in his seat, excited to hear people's suggestions.

“Spiderman,” I answered without any hesitation. “Definitely Spidey. Cute, brave, funny, yep, that's you."

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I can dig that. I’d make a great spiderman.”

“Who would you be?” Scott asked me.

“Is there a superhero called Couch Potato girl? Because that's me.”

“I don’t think there is,” Scott laughed.

“I don't know then! There isn't that many to choose from that don’t have really depressing backstories. Maybe Catwoman? Or Scarlet Witch? No, she’s had a miserable time of it too. Batgirl? She’s not too bad, she just wants to help out and do some good.” I was stumped.

“Batgirl could work. Catwoman isn't really a hero, more of a villian,” Virgil mused.

“I’ve always had a soft spot for the villainous type though, I’ve always thought that most of them just had a bad day.”

They all cracked up laughing. 

“A bad day?” Scott howled. “That’s your reason? They had a bad day?”

“Well, yeah,” I shrugged. “Think about it, they get hit by radiation, they get sucked into their invention, someone throws them in acid. It’s just bad luck really.”

“Oh, no,” Gordon was actually crying, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “You cannot excuse them like that.”

“Sure I can, I make excuses for you all the time.”

That set them off again, everyone laughing for a good minute before they pulled themselves together.

“Kayo would be Black Widow,” Gordon continued once he could breathe again. 

“Definitely,” I agreed. “She’s kickass, she's sassy and she takes no crap. Totally her."

"I can live with that," she nodded. "She's not a wuss and doesn't just wait around to be saved. She's deadly and a super spy too."

"So, what you're telling us is that you are actually Black Widow and you've been undercover this entire time?" Gordon joked. 

"Yes, I'm a deadly assassin, sleep with one eye open." 

"That's not creepy at all." 

“Would Grandma be Aunt May?” Alan asked. 

“Probably, she’s pretty cool.”

“Here’s the real question though, would you be Team Cap or Team Iron Man?” I asked.

“Obviously Team Cap,” Scott answered. “I can’t abandon myself.”

“Team Cap too,” Alan added.

“What’s all this about teams?” Jeff asked, apparently taking more notice of us than we had thought.

“Team Captain America or Team Iron Man,” Alan answered. “There was a time when the government tried to get all superheros to register with them and work for them rather than on their own. Captain America didn't believe in it, Iron Man did. It split the group.”

“Well, considering we’re currently sitting on a private island and part of a privately funded group that doesn't work for anyone but saves people on a daily basis, I'd have to be on Captain America's side."

"You'd leave your own team?" Virgil laughed. 

"If they were being idiots, sure."

That got us giggling again, Jeff was in one of his very best moods, slightly exasperated with a side of smartass. He was always good for a laugh then. 

"I'd be Team Cap too," Virgil added. 

"So would I," Gordon agreed. 

"Me too," I said. 

"So no one is Team Iron Man?" Kayo asked. 

"Are you? And bear in mind, we will all judge you on your answer," I warned her. 

"Team Cap all the way."

"What did I miss?" John asked, coming back with his iced coffee and handing me a can of cherry coke. Boy is so well trained. I blew him a kiss in thanks. 

"Where's mine?" Gordon asked. 

"Fridge, go get it yourself," John stepped over my legs and shoved Alan out of his seat. "Why are you on the floor?" 

"Because it's comfy." 

"The fridge is so far away," Gordon whined, lifting an arm and then letting it drop pathetically. "How comes she doesn't have to get her own?" 

"Because I actually like her, that and she made lunch."

I stuck my tongue out at Gordon and popped the tab, taking a satisfying sip. 

"So mean," he pouted. "I make food too."

"No, you just make a mess," I argued. 

"So, what were you all talking about," John asked. 

"Superheros," I answered leaning against his legs, using them as a back rest. "One of the questions we got sent was if you could be a superhero, who would you be."

"I'm Captain America."

"I'm Superman."

"Spiderman!"

"Iron guy."

"Iron man," Alan corrected.

"I'm thirsty," Gordon moaned, sneaking out a hand to steal my can. "And also Aqua Man."

"I'd be Black Widow."

"And who are you?" John asked me.

"I couldn't decide. I liked the villains too much," I swatted at Gordon's hand before it reached my drink.

"You're always awkward."

"It's both a blessing and a curse," I admitted, unable to deny it.

"John, who would you be?" Alan asked.

John thought about it for a moment or two then answered confidently.

"Batman."

"Seriously? Batman? Why would you want to be Batman?" Gordon asked, distracted from his attempted thievery.

"Probably because he's dark and brooding and likes to hide in his cave," Scott laughed.

John shook his head.

"Because you get the Batmobile?" Virgil guessed.

"Nope."

"Cool gadgets on your utility belt?" I offered.

"Nope."

"Then why?" Alan demanded to know.

"Because he's an only child."

[lostinthelightss]

literal chaos fire (ch.1)

amazing banner by @downn-in-flames​ / down-in-flames@FFT

find it elsewhere: fft | ao3 | ff.net | hpff learn more: chaos universe link to other chapters: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 link to missing moments: 5.5, 7.5, 8.5, 15.5

pairing: Lily Luna Potter / OC genre: AU, Humor, Romance rating: mature audiences

summary: 

Victoire Weasley is a masters student in infectious diseases handling a devastating break up with her girlfriend of two years. Lily Potter is a first year law student navigating a figurative minefield that is the star quarterback’s unrequited affection. Molly Weasley is pursuing her bachelors in engineering while pining over her best friend - who doesn’t seem to realize it.

Three women, three vastly different lives, all coming together with group chats, family dinners, and a whole lot of chaos.

chapter summary: 

Mollz: Attachment: 1 Image Mollz: plz see that on april 18th at 7:29pm i did indeed say that law school was going to be hard

lawyerlilz: Attachment: 1 Image lawyerlilz: you're forgetting that 2mins later you said "work hard, play harder"

SEPTEMBER 15TH, 2021

'the dopest house' (foxyroxy, freddieboy, jamesatron, moollywoobbles, rose) 5:27pm

moollywoobbles: @jamesatron, how did you get into my room? moollywoobbles: i s2g, i have a lab tomorrow moollywoobbles: i'm not doing this moollywoobbles: FINE I'LL DO IT moollywoobbles: but i will get my REVENGE!

freddieboy: why don't you ever ice me? freddieboy: i'm starting to feel left out

jamesatron: PAYBACK FOR LAST PARTY jamesatron: YOU LEFT ME IN THE BATHROOM ALONE jamesatron: I WOKE UP IN THE DARK AND THOUGHT I DIED

moollywoobbles: that was @rose, and im offended you mixed us up

rose: he was fully naked and covered in vomit, i thought he'd be better off lying on the linoleum than causing irreparable damage to our carpets

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'literal chaos fire' (lawyerlilz, Mollz, VickyBaby) 8:49pm

lawyerlilz: two weeks in and i'm already drowning in work lawyerlilz: why did you guys let me go to law school?

Mollz: i told you it was gonna be hard Mollz: but did you listen? Mollz: no

VickyBaby: you actively supported her in this

Mollz: Attachment: 1 Image Mollz: plz see that on april 18th at 7:29pm i did indeed say that law school was going to be hard

lawyerlilz: Attachment: 1 Image lawyerlilz: you're forgetting that 2mins later you said "work hard, play harder"

Mollz: and i stand by both statements

VickyBaby: why do i feel like you're currently drinking

Mollz: james managed to hide another ice in my room when i was in class today Mollz: and after that i decided that having one drink was weak Mollz: i'm a few in

lawyerlilz: it's 9pm lawyerlilz: on a wednesday

VickyBaby: weren't you just complaining about your lab tomorrow? VickyBaby: and don't you have like a bajillion classes always?

Mollz: work hard, play harder baby

VickyBaby: never call me baby again

lawyerlilz: IT'S LITERALLY YOUR NICKNAME

Mollz: DON'T WANT ME TO CALL YOU THAT, DON'T NAME YOURSELF THAT

VickyBaby: alright, alright! damn, calm down... VickyBaby: seriously though, don't you have an early morning lab

Mollz: yeah but it's just circuits Mollz: and malfoy said the basics of it all is done Mollz: i just have to do the write up

lawyerlilz: i wish we had partners for contracts lawyerlilz: thinking is hard

VickyBaby: like disease ecology is easy? VickyBaby: we're looking at ebola right now VickyBaby: did you know the r0 is too low in humans for it to spread effectively? VickyBaby: but gorilla populations are absolutely decimated by it

lawyerlilz: how does Teddy stand you?

Mollz: she puts out

VickyBaby: actually... VickyBaby: i think Teddy and i are on a break...

Mollz: WHAT?! Mollz: what does 'i think' mean? Mollz: you've been together for like 2 years Mollz: and why didn't you tell us immediately?!

lawyerlilz: molly, shut up lawyerlilz: a 2y relationship just ended, she's entitled to her alone time

VickyBaby: actually...

Mollz: WHAT NOW?! Mollz: STOP STRESSING ME OUT I HAVE CIRCUITS LAB IN THE MORNING

lawyerlilz: i thought you just had to do the write up lawyerlilz: don't make me text scorpius and tell him that you're drinking the night before class lawyerlilz: again lawyerlilz: his roommate's gonna ask to talk to me lawyerlilz: again lawyerlilz: and i'm going to have to turn him down

lawyerlilz: AGAIN Mollz: AGAIN VickyBaby: AGAIN

VickyBaby: yeah, we know VickyBaby: i don't understand how you don't find that man attractive VickyBaby: starting quarterback AND captain?

lawyerlilz: i think that mollz drinking in the middle of the week is a bigger issue than my love life lawyerlilz: especially considering it's only her first week

Mollz: i'm taking ordinary differential equations Mollz: why wouldn't i start drinking Mollz: and the big issue here is Vic's love life, not how much fun i have

VickyBaby: ... Teddy and I are taking a break VickyBaby: because she's going to America on exchange VickyBaby: she's leaving in a week

Mollz: i'll key her car Mollz: i'll get xander to hack into the school's system and fail her Mollz: i'll ruin HER ENTIRE LIFE

VickyBaby: plz don't do that

lawyerlilz: who's keeping snuggles?

VickyBaby: the cats staying with me VickyBaby: if she'd fought me on that i would've let molly's wrath free

Mollz: i'll still do it

lawyerlilz: as your cousin, i'd help lawyerlilz: as your soon-to-be-lawyer, plz don't

Mollz: james says he's in Mollz: also james is already on his way to her place Mollz: and i might be with him

VickyBaby: MOLLY, DON'T YOU DARE

lawyerlilz: i'll tell Scorp lawyerlilz: don't think i won't

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

(Lily Potter, Scorpius Malfoy) 9:26pm

Lily: molly's drunk Lily: and probably doing illegal things Lily: just thought you should know

Scorpius: lilz! it's me! Scorpius: james and i were a little too tipsy so malfoy's driving the car Scorpius: :)))

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

'literal chaos fire' (lawyerlilz, Mollz, VickyBaby) 9:32pm

lawyerlilz: VickyBaby she's recruited Scorp lawyerlilz: this isn't gonna end well

VickyBaby: don't worry, Teddy moved home like 2 weeks ago

lawyerlilz: so they're going to be doing illegal things lawyerlilz: AT A STRANGER'S HOUSE?!

VickyBaby: oh shit

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'old fogies' (Fred [the smart dumb one], James [the older twin], Lily [ur 15mins older], Molly [the dumb smart one], Rose [the granger], Vic [the science beb]) 9:35pm

Vic [the science beb]: @Rose [the granger] @Fred [the smart dumb one] Vic [the science beb]: WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP THEM?

Rose [the granger]: they promised to do all the house chores until Christmas

Lily [ur 15mins older]: SO YOU GAVE THEM THE KEYS?! Lily [ur 15mins older]: THEY'RE DRUNK!

Rose [the granger]: Scorpius was 100% sober and i specifically asked them not to tell me what they needed the car for

Lily [ur 15mins older]: THEY'RE GOING TO TEDDY'S HOUSE

Rose [the granger]: i don't see the issue here

Vic [the science beb]: Teddy broke up with me to go on exchange Vic [the science beb]: also she doesn't live there anymore Vic [the science beb]: and they don't know that

Rose [the granger]: OH NO

Lily [ur 15mins older]: OH NO IS RIGHT Lily [ur 15mins older]: also, where's @Fred [the smart dumb one]

Rose [the granger]: HE'S WITH THEM

Rose [the granger]: FUCK Lily [ur 15mins older]: FUCK Vic [the blonde beb]: FUCK

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'the dopest house' (foxyroxy, freddieboy, jamesatron, moollywoobbles, rose) 9:54pm

rose: GUYS STOP rose: THAT'S THE WRONG HOUSE rose: TEDDY DOESN'T LIVE THERE ANYMORE

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(RosieBear, ScorpiStud) 9:55pm

RosieBear: i will kill you RosieBear: you cannot be serious RosieBear: babe, i will actually murder you

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(Lily Potter, Scorpius Weasley) 9:55pm

Lily: SCORP STOP Lily: IT'S NOT TEDDY'S HOUSE

10:02pm

Lily: SCORPIUS MALFOY I WILL END YOU

10:08pm

Lily: I'M NOT AN ACTUAL LAWYER YET I CAN'T DEFEND YOU

10:17pm

Lily: SCORPIUS!

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'the dopest house' (foxyroxy, freddieboy, jamesatron, moollywoobbles, rose) 10:23pm

freddieboy: hey @rose freddieboy: so bad news is freddieboy: we may have gotten caught freddieboy: the good news is freddieboy: campus cops' golf carts are terribly slow

rose: WHAT?!

freddieboy: we'll be home in 5 freddieboy: plz open the garage freddieboy: we don't know if they saw the license plate

rose: i am not going to be an accomplice

moollywoobbles: scorp wants to remind you that it looks bad on politicians if they're married to a criminal

freddieboy: and he said that he'll finally start watching Grey's with you

rose: it's open rose: and i hate you all

freddieboy: love you toooooooo

jamesatron: <3

foxyroxy: hey guys, remember when you promised you would pick me up after my night class? foxyroxy: think you could still swing by? foxyroxy: you won't even have to stop, just open the door and i'll jump in

jamesatron: FAST AND FURIOUS BABEYYY

[writingfromkitchenator]

Scotch and Snow

Christmas fic

Masterlist

Based on an imagine found here by @thefandomimagine

Crowley x Australian OC (Gender Neutral)

Words: 1,773

Warnings: Fluff, little bit of awkwardness and gift giving, more fluff

Normally, Crowley ignored this time of year, at least anything beyond the increase in demon deals as people decided that they wanted certain material things for their friends and family and were willing to go to any extent to do it.  He wasn’t sure what it was, but the idea of Christmas had never overly appealed to him, to him, it was mostly just a waste of time and an unnecessary reason to spend time with friends and family.

It wasn’t that there weren’t people he wanted to see, but it was more that none of them really wanted to see him, and that was something that he forced to very back of his mind.

None of them, except maybe one.

It was risky though, and he’d spent the last few days deciding whether or not he could take that risk, and whether or not it would be something that would remain unnoticed, even if he was extremely careful.

His decision wasn’t made until Christmas morning, when he received a simple text message.

I know demons probably don’t care about the holidays, but Merry Christmas Crowley.

Crowley had stared at it for a long time and knew that he had to take the risk.

Ensuring he had a few extra protections on himself, he teleported as close as he dared, his face almost instantly screwing up as the heat hit him, throwing him for a moment, feeling the sun burning at his skin almost instantly.

How could anyone stand this?

The little street was quiet, a few having Christmas decorations up, including a few including animals he certainly hadn’t seen being involved in Christmas before.  Shaking his head, he walked a little down the street and around the corner, a group of kids playing cricket in the street, uncaring if a car was to come down the street at any moment.

He knew it was a different part of the world, but he honestly hadn’t been prepared for just how different it could be.

A knock on the door to a quiet little home, not a decoration in sight, and the door was answered with a smile.

“Crowley,” Shannon said, leaning on the doorway.  “I never actually thought I’d see you in person again, at least not here.”

He shrugged it off.  “I figured, seeing as I can practically go anywhere, it would be more polite than a text in return.”

Shannon grins and steps back inside.  “Come on it, we’ll let too much cold air out otherwise.”

Crowley was more than a little relieved as the front door closed behind him, the cool air settling around him, and making him give a small sigh.  “Anyone would think you live in Hell.”

Laughing, Shannon returns to the lounge.  “There’s probably more than a few that would agree with you, but it doesn’t usually involved the torture and everything else, and it’s not actually as hot as what it can get.”

He adjusts his suit at the mere thought.  “Charming.  I can’t believe you came back.”

Shannon cast him a smile.  “It’s my home Crowley, I’m hardly going to let some weather dictate where I live.”

Crowley sits, frowning.  “I guess I’m just too used to the cold.  It was strange appearing here and just finding…heat.”

“That’s what air-conditioning is for.”  Shannon takes a drink of tea.  “And ice-cream.”

“Are you drinking?”  He asked, sounding a lot harsher than he intended to.  “Are you mad?”

“I didn’t realise there were restrictions?”  Shannon raised an eyebrow, looking amused.  “Just because it’s hot, doesn’t mean I can’t drink tea.”

Crowley stared, and then shakes his head.  “You really are backwards.”

“Welcome to Australia,” Shannon chuckled.  “I take it you saw the kangaroo sled down the street? We like to adapt things to our own little piece of paradise; you should hear some of the songs.”

“No thank you,” Crowley said.  “Maybe another time, I think I’ve taken all the difference I can for the day.”

“You did come and visit,” Shannon said.  “You had to expect something.”

Crowley looks at them and sighs after a moment.  “I did, and I hope I don’t seem too…unnerved.  I wanted to offer my own, er, Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you,” Shannon chuckled.  “I’ll pretend you didn’t say it with a certain amount of disdain to what you’ve seen.”

He opened his mouth to say something in return before taking in the living room, quickly seeing that there was no sign of Christmas seemingly anywhere around.  “Do you not celebrate Christmas?”

“I do,” Shannon nods, following his gaze.  “But I don’t see the need in showing it to the world, and with no friends or family visiting this year, I didn’t see the need to set up anything.  It always felt like a lot of effort for little return.”

Crowley watched Shannon get up, surprised.  “You’re the exception of course, never thought I’d make friends with a demon of all things, but I don’t think you mind the missing decorations.  Stay there a moment.”

Shannon disappeared from the room, leaving Crowley wondering to himself for a moment, relaxing on the lounge.  It was…oddly comfortable here, despite the scorching heat outside, and Shannon, well, was Shannon.  They’d become friends when Shannon visited America during the year, and despite working with the British Men of Letters, Shannon had been more than reasonable, even getting along easily with the Winchester’s.  It had felt like much too short a time before they returned home, and Crowley had always wondered just what it was that made Shannon so amicable.

Reappearing, Crowley was stunned to see Shannon carrying a present, and proceeding to hold it out to him.  “Merry Christmas Crowley.”

“You got me a gift?”  He asked.

Shannon smiled as he took it.  “I would’ve sent it with Sam, Dean, and Castiel’s presents, but I can guarantee they wouldn’t have given it to you, especially if they snuck a look.”

Crowley stared at them for a moment.  “You knew I would visit?”

Shrugging, Shannon gestures to the gift.  “Open it.”

He wasn’t used to gifts, so it took him a moment to look at it, the rectangular gift a little heavy, wrapped it…

“Are those meant to be Hellhounds?”  Crowley asked, amused.

Shannon laughed.  “I do have talents outside of hunting, so yes, everyone got their own custom wrapping paper.”

Crowley looks at them.  “I can’t imagine your superiors like this?”

“What they don’t know, won’t hurt them.”  Shannon drinks the rest of their tea.  “And besides, I’d like to see what they’ll do with their best agent.”

He smiles and proceeds to carefully open the present, still not entirely sure how he felt about receiving a gift, let alone one in custom wrapping paper, but he was even more stunned as he saw just exactly what it was.

It was an incredibly old and awfully expensive bottle of scotch.

“Perks of the job, before you ask,” Shannon said at his stunned expression.  “And I looked it up, you can’t actually buy this anywhere except from the rare collector that decides to sell it, which is even rarer in itself.”

“Understandable,” Crowley said, pulling out the bottle and holding it up in the light.  “Are you sure you want to give it to me?”

“Absolutely,” Shannon said.  “I know you have a taste for it, and it won’t do anything here except sit on my shelf and get even older.”

“Honestly I’m of half a mind to do that myself,” Crowley said earnestly.  “This is a lot.”

Shannon shrugs it off.  “It’s nothing.”

Crowley could see it thought, the slight embarrassment, the increase in heart rate and careful avoidance of his gaze.

“And you don’t have to give me anything,” Shannon said quickly as he goes to talk.  “That’s not the point of Christmas.  I just wanted to give you something and that’s all there is to it.”

He couldn’t help it, he smiled.  “Well, thank you, but I still feel it necessary to do something for you in return.  It would only be fair, so name it.”

There was a clear question on their features for a moment, completely unsure, but then it was gone and replaced by something else that he couldn’t quiet place.

“Well…” Shannon was a little hesitant.  “I had been hoping to be in the states for Christmas.  I’m not going to lie, it was why I jumped on the job so quickly in the first place, but there was ultimately not much I could do about being sent back home.  I love here, I do, but…”

Crowley’s hand rested on theirs, making them freeze and look at him.  “Name your price love.”

Shannon gives a soft chuckle.  “It’s going to sound ridiculous to you, I know that, but I’ve always wanted a white Christmas.”

“When you live here in this Hell like heat, I’m not surprised.” Crowley said, grinning.  “Go get something warm on.  It’s the least I can do.”

It must have been a strange sight, seeing someone walk out of their house rugged up to the hilt in this hot weather, the man with them in a black suit which also definitely wasn’t suited, but neither of them seemed to care.  Walking down the street, it was like a blink and they were gone, the thought of it soon fading from anyone who happened to see minds.

Shannon stared a little in wonder at all the white around, the temperate cold, but bearable.  Snow as starting to fall through air, and there was no missing the wide smile as they held out their hand, the small crystals landing and slowly melting away.

Crowley watched, unable to shake the smile from his lips. They joy, he had to admit to himself, was a wonder to watch, and he suddenly decided that there was nothing that he would trade this moment for, not that there was anyone he’d ever tell that to.

Shannon turned and smiled at him.  “Thank you for bringing me here Crowley.  It is…well, it’s beyond words.”

“Merry Christmas Shannon,” Crowley said, earnestly this time. “I hope this beats sitting at home drinking tea.”

Smiling and returning to Crowley’s side, Shannon takes his hand.  “Much. Will you walk with me?”

Crowley’s smiles and nods, the two of them soon walking easily through the snow, talking about everything and nothing.  The longer it went on, the easier it all felt, eventually falling into comfortable silence.  Crowley thought that if Christmas could be like this every year, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all, and as much as Shannon didn’t say anything, they felt much the same.