#not choices making my heart actually flutter bye

[gifti3]

I really want that cat mug

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[sophsicle]

Omg. Any part of better man is Jegulus. James to reg. Oh this hurts me. “It was always on your terms. I waited on every careless word hoping they would turn sweet again”. Idk if this is too close to choices for you though BUT MY HEART

Better Man - Jegulus

James slides down the wall of the broom cupboard, shirt still hanging open, head dropping into his hands.

"That was a mistake."

"Everything we do is a mistake," the other boy replies evenly. James tries not to grimace but he doesn't think he succeeds.

He looks up at Regulus who is just finishing pulling his sweater back over his head. His hair is slightly mussed, lips still pink and freshly kissed. Despite everything James nearly reaches for him.

"It can't happen again," James says, doing his best to convince himself as much as Regulus

"It could."

Their eyes meet - cold grey sending shivers along James's spine, causing his hair to stand on end. Sometimes he wants Regulus so badly he can barely stand it - the need to touch and taste and bite. He's never craved anyone quite like this before and he has a feeling it isn't...normal. Isn't right.

His eyes drop down to Regulus's covered forearm. Knowing what's underneath.

"No," James says finally. "It can't."

"It's not contagious you know."

James's eyes snap back up and he knows that Regulus has caught him staring.

"It's more complicated than that."

Regulus arches his brow. "Is it? Or are you just making it complicated." The other boy steps forward and James watches, helpless to do anything else. Regulus cups James's face with his hand, thumb tracing the line of his bottom lip and James feels his eyes flutter closed.

"Fuck," he murmurs on his next exhale.

"Wanting this doesn't make you a bad person," Regulus says quietly. Desperately. For all his bravado Regulus is actually rather lonely and James knows this is more than just fucking around for him.

God they're so stupid.

"I think it might."

"I told you, it's not contagious."

"Maybe, but it's still wrong. And...me...this..." he sighs, frustrated. "It's like I'm saying it doesn't matter. And it does."

"It's not as though anyone knows anyway."

"I know."

Regulus laughs dryly, but he's unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. "Do you always do the right thing?"

James presses into Regulus's touch, turning his head and kissing his palm. "No."

There's a pause, Regulus not pulling away and James keeping his eyes shut. It's easier that way. Through the door they can hear the muffled noises of students outside. James feels a small spike of panic before he reminds himself that they've locked it and thrown up a silencing charm. No one is coming in. No one is going to find them.

"I-" Regulus starts and then stops, cursing under his breath before trying again. "I...miss...this."

It costs him something, to say that, to be that honest. James knows that, and his chest aches with it.

"Me too," he says in a small voice. "If things were...different..." They've already had this conversation. James has already walked away. It was the right thing to do. It's still the right thing to do. Regulus has reasons for the choices he's made, it's complicated, but that doesn't make it right. And James can't justify it. However hard he might try.

"By things you mean 'me' of course." Regulus says eventually.

James scrunches his face and immediately feels Regulus's thumb trying to smooth out the wrinkles. "You aren't a bad person Reg."

"No? What am I then?"

James struggles to sort through the tangle of words in his mouth. To explain what he means.

"You're just...someone who could've done better."

He feels Regulus go still and he wonders if he's made a mistake. He really doesn't want to fight. Not again. Not after everything. Regulus's hand pulls away and James almost reaches for it before he feels Regulus press a kiss to the top of his head. The gesture is so soft and sweet that it honestly takes James's breath away, causing the air to catch in his chest.

"Good bye James," the younger boy whispers, like maybe he doesn't want James to hear.

"Reg-" James starts, but he doesn't know what to say, and by the time he blinks his eyes open the cupboard is empty.

[nctsworld]

pedal to the metal

✩ jaemin x reader | mall au | arcade attendant!jaemin | fluff | 3.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ when the claw machine eats your money, jaemin, the cute arcade attendant, offers to play a game with you in lieu of a refund. little does he expect you to beat him. | based off of @mistymark​​’s nct mall employees post WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, bit of angst, jaemin is competitive, kissing in the epilogue     RATING ⇾ teen+ 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

Leaning over the glass counter filled with endless prizes, Jaemin holds out two large plushies, one in each of his hands. 

“Pikachu or Spongebob?” He swivels his head to them individually before beaming down at the little girl in front of him. 

With the alternating supervision of her parents, she’s been one of the recent regulars at the arcade and finally saved up enough tickets fo a decent prize, deciding to cash them in today. Her face lights up and targets in on one particular plushie, already inching towards it with open hands. 

“Pikachu, Pikachu!” she squeals. 

The worker’s smile deepens, “Great choice. Couldn’t have picked better myself.” 

He laughs airily as she squeezes Pikachu like it’s the last thing she’ll ever love, bouncing up and down with joy. Today, the girl’s mom is with her and she holds her ecstatic daughter close to her leg, rubbing her arm warmly. 

“So I guess I’ll see you two next week?” Jaemin asks. 

“If she gets over Pikachu as fast as she did with Olaf, then probably yes,” the mom replies with a defeated head shake. “Thanks again, Jaemin. Say bye to the nice boy.” 

“Bye, Jaemin!” 

The mother and daughter wave good-bye with wide smiles, as did Jaemin. Giving prizes out and seeing the delightful reactions on the recipient’s face was one of the best parts of his job. 

Oh, and so was being able to play all the arcade games for free. 

For Jaemin, being the arcade attendant at the local mall was a dream come true. He was once in the same place as the little girl—always coming to the same arcade every day after school. Although he loved winning prizes (who doesn’t?), he also prided himself in being the best at every game, knowing all the secrets and strategies like the back of his hand. Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Beatmania, Time Crisis, Super Bike, Pac-Man… You name it, and Jaemin can wipe the floor with anybody. It’s why none of his friends liked to play the games with him, but they still had fun nonetheless.

“That girl is insane!” Chenle exclaims with a point of his thumb, strolling up to the counter. He’s one of Jaemin’s many friends and an everyday mall-goer. Jisung comes up next to him, also a friend and works at the mall’s McDonald’s. The mall was really a second home to them all. 

Jisung bobs his head in disbelief. Then, he turns to face their worker friend. 

“You’ve gotta admit she’s really good, right?” 

The lanky figure cocks an eyebrow. “What are you guys talking about? I was busy giving out a prize to someone.” 

The shortest individual of the three widens his eyes. “There was a girl who was just playing Super Bike. She kept kicking everyone’s ass, even us.”

Jisung nods fervently, “I was telling Chenle that she’s probably as good as you, maybe even better.” 

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “No one can beat me at Super Bike, you both know that.” 

“You haven’t seen her play, though…” Chenle sighs dreamily, perching his chin into his palms, as he drifts off into space and replays the gameplay in his mind. 

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Jisung shrugs. He absentmindedly fiddles with the bundle of tickets left by the little girl. “It’s about time someone beat you at one of the games.” 

Suddenly, Jaemin snatches the tickets from his hands, startling the younger boy. Said younger boy glances up to meet a pair of slitted, burning eyes. In an instant, Jaemin’s eyes melt and a cocky expression flashes by.  

“Like I always say, I never lose.” 

He begins to count the tickets, but the thought of someone being better than him makes him lose track. 

After he finishes counting the tickets, he casually checks-up on the motorcycle racing simulator to see what all the fuss was about. To his disappointment, he is met with a young boy, playing by himself.  

Jaemin makes a mental note to keep an eye and ear out for this mystery Super Bike girl.  

A few days pass. You’re at the mall by yourself to kill some time and to procrastinate on studying. You spent a while at the bookstore already, so you decide to do something a little more fun. 

At the bustling arcade, you’re quickly drawn towards the claw machine with the mountain of plushies. You know the odds of winning are low, but one round couldn’t hurt. Placing your money into the claw machine, you begin to fiddle with the joystick. However, nothing’s moving. 

Your face crinkles in confusion, so you add money again, thinking that maybe it was a one-time fluke. Nope, definitely not a fluke because the claw still doesn’t work. You’re now two dollars down and you didn’t even get the chance to play.  

Walking around the arcade, you try to find a worker, but to no avail. You stand in front of the glass counter, waiting for an attendant. While waiting, you’re peering at all the variety of prizes to be won and wish you were skilled and patient enough to obtain such things. It’s no wonder why the claw machine drew you in, at least that game filled you with a false sense of a fast and easy win.   

After finishing a supervising round in the arcade, Jaemin notices a girl at the front counter. Actually, scratch that, a stunning girl—one that he hasn’t seen in the arcade before. He’d definitely remember you if you had. The ends of his mouth stretch and he strides towards you with a wind of confidence.

“Hi, do you need help with something?” 

Jolting slightly, you’re taken aback by both the handsome figure and the question. You saw him earlier at one of the games, but it never crossed your mind that such a young, attractive guy like that would be the resident arcade attendant. You subconsciously do a double take, eyeing him up and down, causing Jaemin’s grin to become more cheeky.

“Hi, yeah,” You point to where you were previously. “I was trying the claw machine and it took my money, but it didn’t let me play any rounds.” 

“Oh?” He scrunches his face and heads toward the machine. You follow behind. “We just fixed it a few weeks ago, that’s weird.” 

At the claw machine, Jaemin feels around the machine, checking on the knobs and buttons, and even places a coin into it to test out your claim. He tinkers with the joystick, and realizes you’re right; the machine’s only taking money without allowing any plays. 

So he kicks it. Hard.  

You break out into a chortle. “Does that actually help?” 

“Always works like a charm.” 

Another kick, and more chortling. 

Jaemin shifts his head towards you and places a hand on his chest. His eyes waver, searching around him as if someone would be listening, and lowers his voice in a hush. 

“I’m a secret machine whisperer, you gotta trust me,” he says with a small wink, and you trust him by standing back and resuming to observe him with a fluttering heart.  

The attendant tries the machine with money once more, but the kicking evidently didn’t help. This only leads Jaemin to increase the intervals of his kicking. Soon, kicking evolves into desperately shaking the contraption.  

Bemused and shaking your head, you comment, “I don’t think your whispering is working very well.” 

He attempts one last time, but to nobody’s surprise, it fails. He tapes an out of order sign onto the glass. With hands on his hips, he exhales a lengthy sigh.  

“Sorry for your lost money. I can give you a refund.”

“Aw, no. It’s okay, it was only a couple of bucks. I was more so looking forward to playing the game, really.” 

A lightbulb goes off in Jaemin’s head. 

“Did you wanna play a game with me to make up for it instead?” 

Although he enunciates the question slowly, cautious of your reply and potential rejection, there’s a contrasting smug expression on his face. Your teeth tug at your bottom lip, about to answer, but then you pout.  

“Aren’t you working right now though?” 

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s kind of slow at the moment and I can argue that I’m maintaining the game.”

“Like what you were just doing with the claw machine?” 

“Exactly.” 

Both of you laugh in unison, gazes converging together. If only the strong sparks flying between you two could somehow fix the claw machine... but then again, you would’ve never had a reason to speak to the beautiful boy in the first place. 

“Sure, what game did you have in mind?” 

Tapping a finger on his chin, Jaemin runs the possibilities in his head. What’s a game that he can easily impress you with his skills, but is also equally fun for you to play? 

“Super Bike?” he offers. 

You nod with a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.” 

Thankfully, as the two of you arrive at the game, no one’s currently playing. You jump onto the left motorcycle, while Jaemin gets onto the right. He enjoys how you cutely sway back and forth, accustoming yourself to the fake motorbike. He gives you a quick breakdown of the controls, and tells you to focus only on the gas and brake since he’ll choose automatic transmission to make things easier for you. You hum with puffed cheeks, ready to play. 

Following Jaemin’s choices of the easiest map level and transmission settings, the race immediately starts. 

Jaemin can play Super Bike in his sleep, so he starts off the first half of the lap with his eyes on his screen, then for the second half, he looks over at you for a few moments. You’re glued to your screen. The glint in your eyes sparkles with pure amusement and an edge of competitiveness. He breathes in the enticing sight, especially as you bite your lip with heightened focus. 

But then, flashes of red flare upon your face. Jaemin’s heart knocks nervously at his chest because the flashes are coming from the sign above your screen with the words ”RACE LEADER”. He’s dragged straight into the match again, not wanting to lose.  

“Have you played this before?” he shouts over the background noises and music. 

“Only a few times,” you shrug lightly. Your eyebrows raise as Jaemin catches up, trailing almost nose to nose with the end of your motorcycle, yet the finish line is approaching fast. Narrowing your eyes, you accelerate and curve around the last bit of the map without struggle. Before you know it, you reach the finish line right before Jaemin does. 

As the first place win radiates from your screen, you pump your arms in the air and remove yourself from the bike. 

On the other hand, Jaemin’s gaze is stuck on the screen, jaw hanging. The big two taunts him with every flicker.  

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for the game—” 

You’re about to ask for his name, but his odd reaction catches you off-guard. You take a step closer to him until someone cries out:   

“That’s Super Bike girl!”

Swinging your head towards the origin of the cry, you see a boy jog over with a wave of his index finger. Chenle’s voice breaks the arcade attendant out of his frozen state. Jaemin whips his head towards you, still on the motorbike.   

“You’re Super Bike girl?!” he echoes, eyebrows knitted. 

“I already have a nickname around here?” you giggle. “I only played this game once a few days ago.” 

Chenle asks him, “Did Biker Girl beat you?” 

Jaemin avoids the inquiry, darting his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. The friend passes the question onto you with owl eyes, and you shyly nod. 

“Oh, my God, and I missed it?!” He huffs in disappointment, but then recollects himself as he takes a few steps toward you. 

“Are you free after seven to come back and play again? Our friends need to witness this. This is history in the making.” 

Immediately, Jaemin shoots daggers into Chenle. The daggers definitely have profanities written all over. You catch a glimpse of Jaemin and can practically read every word.  

“Uhm,” you lower your voice, despite the fact Jaemin can still hear you. “Your friend looks pretty pissed. I feel kinda bad to just come back to beat him in front of people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about feeling bad,” the attendant’s friend waves his hand carelessly. “He always makes us feel bad when he constantly brags about how he’s the best at every game in here.” 

“Is that so?” You glance at the boy on the bike with a new perspective. You could definitely see this guy as cocky, but maybe he’s still sweet underneath the exterior. You also wouldn’t mind seeing him once more before you head home, and now you had a reason. 

“Well, count me in. I’ll be back at seven on the dot.” 

With a flutter of your fingers, you say your temporary good-byes to the pair of boys and head out of the arcade. Jaemin finally props himself off the motorbike, getting back to work.   

Passing by Chenle, he half-jokingly seethes, “I hate you,” into his ear. 

Without a care in the world, Chenle frantically messages their group chat to come by the mall later to witness the match of a lifetime. 

“Hey, did I miss it?” Mark pants as he puts an arm around Jeno from behind. 

“No, you got here right on time. Super Bike girl should be coming any time soon.” 

On the backend of the motorbike, Jaemin sits at the edge of it, studying the modest crowd around the racing simulator. Along with Jisung and Chenle, several of Jaemin’s other close friends are here to cheer for his downfall. For those who aren’t there, his friends are equipped with their phones in hand, ready to record the monumental event. 

Weaving through the crowd with mumbles of “Excuse me’s,” you reach your destination and appear in front of the arcade worker. 

The rising buzz of the crowd fades from your ears and into the background within his presence. You melt at him looking so coolly, bending over the motorbike with folded arms, and give him a warm smile. 

“Just because you’ve got a sweet smile, it doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.” 

You playfully drop your mouth as the people around “Ooooh” in harmony. Your tongue is pressed against your lower teeth as Jaemin spins himself to the front of the bike. You get onto your previous seat from hours ago, grasping onto the fake vehicle as if you owned it.

You watch Jaemin enter the settings in. He’s not underestimating you this time and he executes his promise of not going easy on you—the hardest map and manual transmission are chosen, signaling you to really bring your A-game for this round.    

At first, the match is tight. You’re practically side by side on the map, even having the occasional opportunity to push him off track and vice-versa. Changing up techniques, as the second lap rings in, you switch transmission gears and ease on the brake for a brief moment, hugging the curve of the map. 

With that move, the red light flashes above him. Jaemin believes, no, he knows he’s going to win. Sweet victory is on the tip of his tongue, he can taste it. Ten seconds are left on the clock, ten seconds left until he beats you and continues to reign king of the game.

But, you suddenly speed past him and the game’s over before he can properly process it.  

The screams surrounding you engulf the entirety of the arcade.

Jaemin’s mouth is on the floor as he realizes he lost. 

No, his mouth is six feet under because you’re currently entering a nickname into the all-time best rankings. You beat Jaemin’s time on the map, seizing the new first place rank for the game. 

Everyone circles you in congratulations, but your eyes are honed in on one individual in the crowd. He hops off the bike, brushes past the crowd, and escapes to the counter, continuing his shift like nothing happened. Hastily, you go after him and find him crouching down behind the glass. He’s unpacking boxes filled with what you assume are prizes. 

On your forearms, you lean over the glass counter. “Hey, when does your shift end?” 

Your assumption is answered as you see him restock some of the plushies in the transparent container underneath you. 

“Why do you want to know? So you can beat me again at another game?” he grumbles, the bitterness blatant in his voice. Nevertheless, you persist. 

“‘Cause Super Bike girl wants to get to know the cute Arcade Boy she met today over dinner.” 

He pauses and his eyebrows perk up at the words cute and dinner in the same sentence. His ego is still sore, but he’ll bite.    

“Is it a date?” he presses further with a disinterested tone, continuing to move the items.  

You drag your bottom lip up, drumming your fingers slowly against the glass. 

“Only if you want it to be.” 

Your words bandage his sore ego quickly, but he wants to bathe in his pity a little while longer. He twists his mouth, fighting against the urge to show you his teeth.  

The boy stands up and leans over the counter too. He’s greeted by your strong aura, yet it doesn’t completely reach your eyes; your gaze is soft and gentle. “I get off at nine, so it’s pretty late.” 

“That’s okay. I can play games until then—” 

You peel yourself off from the glass and properly introduce yourself, holding your hand out. He glances at it for a second, then at your tender look. He gives in and can't help himself from grinning. The arcade attendant reaches for your hand and reciprocates the shake.  

“I’m Jaemin.”  

That day, Jaemin learned that losing at the arcade games wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

EPILOGUE 

Clutching onto Jaemin’s waist underneath his leather jacket with your chin resting on his shoulder, you’re swaying side by side with him on the racing game that brought you two together. It’s his day off today, and both of you thought it’d be cute to spend some time at the arcade before the movie showing later that evening. 

“Ease on the gas!” you dictate. He rolls his eyes at your backseat driving.    

“No, it’s too early!” he protests and goes against your advice, accelerating further. When that makes him go off-road a bit, you sigh smugly while he groans meekly. 

“See, and this is why I’m better at Super Bike than you,” you tease before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Tingles rise to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I’ve played this game a lot longer than you.” It’s the second lap and he’s inching towards the finish line.  

“Yeah, but who holds the record?” 

After he speeds through it, the list of the best times roll onto the screen. Your nickname still stands proudly at number one from the day you asked him out on a date. 

Jaemin smiles at the not-so far memory. He then twists and extends his neck over his shoulder, sharing a sweet kiss with you. Your grip around his waist tightens, your fingers sinking into his skin. His palm raises and cups your face, deepening the kiss.    

Breaking away for a moment, he says, “Yeah, well, I’m the better kisser.” 

You sweep your nose against his. “That’s up for debate…” 

Your lips meet once more lovingly.  

“Can you guys stop making out in the arcade again?” Jisung groans. “Kids are here, you know. Like me.” 

Chenle cuts in, “I thought you were glad someone beat Jaemin for once.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect the same person to have her tongue constantly down his throat!” 

Still lip-locked, Jaemin and you smile into the next kisses from their remarks while Jisung and Chenle run off to play another game, far away from the new couple.

[rqnvindr]

special delivery

pairing: delivery boy!albedo x gn!reader

genre: fluff, humor, pinch of suggestiveness

w.c: 1.5k

synopsis: it was getting harder and harder to resist the beautiful boy who always delivered your pizzas. especially when he notices the way you look at him, ever the observant one...

a/n: happy birthday chae !! @albehoe  i’m glad we met and i enjoy all of our talks in the server! welcome to being 19; hope you enjoy this little gift i put together for you hehe

--

the doorbell finally rings, snapping you out of mindlessly scrolling on your phone. you grab your wallet and hop off the couch, more than ready to receive your pizza order for dinner. 

you open the door and your brain immediately shuts down.

a young man, around the same age as you, stands before you and greets you with the most princely “good evening” ever. and if his voice wasn’t already enough to melt you, the red and black uniform looked like it was made just for him, complimenting his perfect skin and hair. that, along with his sparkling eyes was enough to convince you that he couldn’t possibly be real. you resist the urge to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming.

“for (y/n), correct?” albedo, as you read on his name pin, snaps you out of your trance with his dreamy voice. it sounded even better when he said your name.

“yes.” you hand him the required amount of cash and take the box, brushing fingers ever so slightly. you offer the boy a smile, to which he nods in response.

albedo waves a gloved hand as he walks off of your porch. “have a good day.”

“thank you.” it sounded like the most appropriate choice of words at first, but you mentally curse yourself after he gets into the car and drives off.

you should’ve asked for his number, dammit. or at least told him to have a good day too.

what was supposed to be a perfect treat of an evening ended with you chastising yourself all throughout your meal. 

this was your chance. you were going to order another pizza at the end of this week and hope that albedo would be your delivery boy again. you would at least try to remember to make more conversation with him this time, before leading up to hinting that you wanted to get to know him better. 

you take a deep breath on the awaited day, when you answer the door. to your luck, it’s the exact same platinum-haired, blue-eyed mystery of a man who stole your heart within seconds.

“oh! good to see you again!” you sound a little too excited, and albedo appears perfectly unfazed. 

“good afternoon. that’ll be $10.” he holds up a packet when you hand him the fee, and you raise an eyebrow. “i also got you a free sample of our newest secret sauce. it’s not supposed to be out until next month, but i’m conducting some research for my university and wanted to get a head start on people’s opinions on the taste, the texture, if they could perhaps recognize any of the ingredients used to make it..” he clears his throat. “anyways, since you’re such a dedicated customer you’re the first on the list. let me know what you think next time.” 

“ah.” you lightly giggle at his rambling. he seemed very passionate about whatever field he was studying and determined to flesh out the best results for his research. you were the one who was nervous about keeping a conversation going when he seemed more than capable of doing so, as long as it was something he was acutely interested in. 

and most importantly: he planned on meeting you again. there would be a next time.

“may i ask what your major is?” 

“i’m a chemistry major. i was originally planning on doing biology, the study of life, but there is just as much essence of life in chemical reactions. taking two or more things to form a new substance...the embodiment of the life cycle itself.” 

you nod, feeling nearly as fascinated in his studies as he appears to be. you would love to hear more about it, perhaps sitting across from him at a cafe, dressed casually out of his work clothes...

“excuse me. i do not wish to take up too much of your time. enjoy your pizza.” 

“wait.” you call out, a fleeting sense of courage rising up, only for it to collapse once more when you catch yourself staring directly into albedo’s eyes. an endless ocean of curious orbs, their intensity making you feel seen right through, inside and out. 

“um, actually never mind. sorry, have a nice day!” albedo nods, scratching the back of his neck as he heads off. 

being unfathomably nervous and having a crush on someone farther than they appear was not a good mix.

--

you open the cabinet, ready to do some spring cleaning. your hand slips, accidentally knocking over an empty container. before you can pick it up, you notice a white packet that had been hidden underneath.

right. the sauce.

you hadn’t forgotten about it. you simply put it aside to try it out later with another food, just for a little adventure. but there was never any time to cook anything that would possibly go with an unknown condiment. 

or more like, no one to cook with.

you grab your phone and dial the number that you’ve pretty much memorized by now. you bite your lip while listening to the other line ring.

“hello, thank you for calling favonius pizza co. this is albedo, how may i help you?” 

“hi, albedo.” surely he’ll recognize your voice when he promised a next time, after all.

“oh, (y/n)? will it be the usual?” your stomach flutters from the way he perks up while saying your name. 

“no, but i’m so glad it’s you answering the phone. i actually wanted to talk to you regarding the sauce. um, do you mind maybe coming over when you get off from work and i can show you exactly what i wish to convey?”

this doesn’t feel right. asking someone you’ve only met twice over into your own house, just for the sake of your silly crush that led to silly little fantasies in your head-

“sounds good. it’s been really difficult gathering feedback from other customers, due to the lack of communication. and it also works out that i can see you in person so i don’t have to take up too much time during my shift. i’ll be there in an hour and a half or so.”

you stop gaping, realizing you have to confirm your meeting. “okay! take care and i’ll see you then!”

“bye.” with that, albedo hangs up.

you rush to set up the ingredients for your cooking, date, perhaps, with albedo. even if he didn’t think of you the same way that you did, you would always cherish him agreeing to spend time with you.

an hour passes by and he’s already promptly ringing the doorbell. you can’t help but feel your knees grow weak at the sight of him in his gray hoodie and light colored jeans, his hair uncovered without the cap. and his eyes glimmer differently, adding to the new feeling his casual attire grants the sight of albedo outside of work.

“hi! the kitchens right this way!” albedo takes off his shoes and follows you to the adjacent area, right to the counter.

“you seem to have gathered more than just the sauce. and you also didn’t order a pizza either.” he remarks placing a hand under his chin. 

“that’s because i wanted us to cook together and for you to see my reaction to it with other food. that’d add more variety to your results y’know?”

albedo continues to inspect the ingredients you had laid out for the chicken nuggets, picking up a jar of seasoning to smell it. “you’re definitely more invested in this than i expected you’d be.” he chuckles, the deep vibrations of his chest sending shivers down your spine.

“we shouldn’t have much of a problem if we’re doing this together, even though i’m not really the best at cooking. however there is one other thing i’ve realized...” albedo puts the jar down, turning to face you. he possesses the same observational look that he gave you the last time he delivered, and walks closer to you. the closing gap effectively cages you on the counter, your chests brushing against each other, making your breath hitch. 

“(y/n),” he hums. “were you really ordering pizza the last time? or were you ordering me, instead?” 

you want to reply, but any form of coherent speech dissipates in your throat. he’s so close, and normally you’d be embarrassed if someone was able to figure you out like this, yet you only found his curiosity and the way he pried into things even more attractive. especially if he had that kind of attitude towards you.

a sigh escapes your lips and you place a hand on his shoulder. “i like you albedo. and yes, i did only order pizza just because i wanted an excuse to see you. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, and if you don’t feel the same way feel free to leave and never speak to me again. i mean that.”

albedo remains silent for a few seconds before blinking slowly and shyly taking your hand.

“i’m not going anywhere. people who care about my work...are important to me. and i do admire your directness.” he lightly strokes your skin. 

“perhaps i should give you what you asked for in your special delivery then, hm?” albedo chuckles. you giggle while playing with his fingers. 

feeling a little bit bold, you press your lips to his digits, causing him to short circuit on the inside at your touch. 

“i shall enjoy it then.” you whisper.

[unholyobsessions]

K9 Approval

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Description: Spencer starts crushing on the cute dog handler

Requested: Yes 

A/N: Not really falling in love, more of a meet cute but I am considering writing a short blurb as pt2 who knows

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, typical criminal minds stuff

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist 

It’s a pretty standard case. Spencer wishes he didn’t have to classify a number of women getting kidnapped and murdered as ‘standard’ but there is nothing particularly strange about it. The good thing (well not exactly good, more like convenient) is that it’s a local case and he is able to go home to his apartment every night. 

When he arrives to the BAU on their third day on the case he knows as soon as he looks at Hotch that this case just became anything but standard. 

“He sent a note,” his boss speaks and all color drains from his face. A note can either be extremely helpful, or extremely dangerous. He rushes to follow Hotch into the round table room where the rest of the team is crowded over a lined sheet of paper. 

I’ve always enjoyed a nice walk in the park. Especially those with lots of trees. Makes it easy to hide from the monsters crawling in the dark. It’s also easy for the monsters to hide their secrets. Can you find my secret? I’ll give you a hint. She’s no longer breathing. 

Spencer’s brain immediately tries to find any codes that could be hidden within the words but comes up with nothing. He picks up the plastic bag the paper is in and starts to read the note again. 

“Reid what can you tell us?” Hotch asks, arms crossed over his chest. 

“There is a lot of abbreviation. I’ve instead of I have. Lots instead of a lot. It’s casual, almost nonchalant. The pen is pressed lightly against the paper, which shows that he was calm as he wrote it. He’s confident, not worried about getting caught.” Spencer explains his findings without looking up. “Garcia are there any parks within the geographical comfort zone?” 

Garcia immediately starts typing away on her computer, not needing to look at the keyboard to click the correct keys. In a matter of seconds she’s speaking the location of two parks, both conveniently placed in the center of the comfort zone. 

“We need to get two teams of search dogs in each park. Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss go to the one on fifth avenue. Rossi and JJ you’re with me at the park on eighth. We need to find her.” 

. . . 

Arriving about twenty minutes later, the park was already crowded with search dogs and their handlers. Spencer crinkled his nose, never particularly excited to work with the dogs. He was vaguely listening to whatever Morgan was saying next to him as he let his eyes scan over the park. 

There were certainly a lot of trees and it seemed like the place children would enjoy playing hide and seek in. It wasn’t huge but it was certainly bigger than the average park and the lack of street lamps surrounding the area would have certainly made it easy for the unsub to sneak around at night. 

As he kept looking over the area, his eyes caught sight of you and the breath was knocked from his lungs. 

You have always loved animals, dogs in particular, and you have known since you were young that you wanted to be able to work with them when you were older. However, eight-year-old you never expected to look for dead bodies for a living, well you look for living people too. And technically you don’t do this for a living, you’re a veterinarian who happens to spend her time volunteering in search and rescue missions. 

The decision to start volunteering as a search dog handler came after a girl in your college went missing. Everything was okay and she was thankfully found unharmed but it was two days of your campus being crowded with search dogs. You talked to one of the officers about the job and after a few short minutes of conversation you were instantly hooked. Five years later and you cannot bring yourself to regret your choice. 

You remember when you got Ash, a gorgeous German Shepard, after your first training session. He was only three months old and the perfect age to start his training. It required you to spend all of your free time playing hide and seek in your small, one bedroom apartment, which is not as fun as it sounds after a few weeks. 

In the end it was all worth it since you are able to help people and it got you a new best friend. 

You walk around the park with a tight hold on Ash’s leash. You got the call about fifteen minutes prior and you are thankful that it is your day off from the vet. You keep your eyes on your dog, making sure to look out for any change in his behavior that may indicate that he found something. 

The small hesitation in his step was enough to make you stop walking. He started rounding one of the trees, sniffing the ground before looking up at you and giving a loud bark. 

You call Hank, one of the members of the team that is carrying the shovel over. “I think we got something.” 

Your voice not only attracted the search team, but also three FBI agents. A few seconds later there was a small crowd gathered around you as Ash used his paws to help Hank dig the hole. Once the body has been uncovered you lead Ash away from the crowd, your hand going into the fanny pack strapped around your waist. 

“Good job,” you say as you kneel next to him. You hold out the treat and he excitedly licks it off your hand. You can’t stop the smile that comes on your face even though it’s not the most appropriate reaction considering the situation. You feel a pair of eyes on you and you look up to see one of the FBI agents staring at you. He looks embarrassed at getting caught and you wave him over. He does so cautiously, keeping his eyes on Ash. 

“Hi,” he says once he gets within speaking distance. You stand up and dust your hands on the fabric of your jeans. 

“Hey, you’re from the BAU right?” You already know that he’s from the BAU, your team leader having had told you so as soon as you arrived. But he’s cute and you need a way to start a conversation. 

“Yes. I’m Dr. Reid. Uh I mean Spencer…you don’t have to call me doctor.” He looks away bashfully and you smile, finding the blush creeping up his neck endearing. 

“Well Spencer, I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself. You notice that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Ash, who is looking up at you as if waiting for you to introduce him. “Everything okay?” 

“What? Oh yeah it’s just that dogs don’t particularly enjoy my presence. They actually kinda resent it.” He says it so casually and you are sure that this isn’t the first time he’s had to say it. He looks just about ready to run away if the need arises and he does look a tad surprised to see that Ash isn’t attacking him already. 

“Nonsense. Ash is a sweetheart and loves meeting new people. Come on,” you gesture for him to come closer with your hand. What you say is true, however Ash does look a little more vigilant than he usually does, as if he senses a threat in the FBI agent but won’t act upon it without your command. You don’t comment on it though, assuming this will only make Spencer more hesitant. Spencer approaches slowly, afraid that the dog will start barking at him. Once he’s standing next to you, you hear him audibly gulp. “Hold out your hand.” He does as you say, placing his hand out in front of him and toward Ash. 

Ash looks at you for confirmation and at the small nod of your head he leans forward, sniffing the stranger’s hand. Spencer looks completely terrified of the situation and after a few seconds, Ash leans back. Spencer is about to retreat his hand but you stop him, knowing that everything is riding on Ash’s next move. Ash lifts his left paw off the ground and places it on top of Spencer’s hand, barking once and you let out a relived sigh. If he had refused to shake Spencer’s hand and barked twice, it would have been a done deal, because even though you are attracted to him, if Ash disproves then it can’t happen. 

You smile and nudge Spencer slightly. “See, you just got the Ash stamp of approval.” The laugh that leaves his lips makes your heart flutter and you scold yourself. You just met him, get it together. 

You see the grimace on his face once Ash removes his paw and leaves a good amount of dirt on his hand. You reach into the fanny pack and take out a small pack of wipes and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, always prepared. He looks grateful at the items, immediately taking a wipe and running it against his palm. Once he’s done he turns back to look at you. Ash has settled down at your feet, happily wagging his tail and sniffing Spencer’s shoes. 

“Does this stamp of approval allow me to ask for your number?” He asks it so casually and it is such a contrast from the shy man a few second before that it takes you completely by surprise. It takes a second for your brain to properly process the question and now you are the one stuttering. Once it catches up, you turn to him with a grin. 

“Definitely.” You grab your phone from your pocket and hand it to him and he does the same, both of you typing your contact information. You stare at each other with matching grins but are inevitably broken out of your daze by a voice calling out for Spencer. 

“Reid, Hotch wants us back at the BAU. You can flirt with the pretty dog handler later.” The dark skinned agent yells across the park.

Spencer blushes furiously and turns back to you, barely stuttering out, “I have to go.” 

You nod your head in understanding. “I’ll talk to you later Spencer.” 

“Definitely.” You are pleasantly surprised when he leans down and pets Ash a couple times. “Bye Ash.” 

You keep looking at him as he walks away, too distracted to notice the new presence beside you. 

“Got a date?” Hank asks. 

You shove his shoulder, trying to feign annoyance but the large smile on your face betrays you. “Shut up.” Ash barks up at you, seemingly wanting to join in on the teasing and Hank laughs, lowering his hand to high five Ash. “I hate both of you,” you reply with a frown. 

Your façade breaks when your phone chimes with a new notification. You grin at the screen, the text sending butterflies to your stomach. 

Want to get coffee on Saturday? 

Tilting your phone away from the prying eyes of your team leader and furry friend, you type out a reply. 

It’s a date

[amajikilvr]

five times you surprised tamaki amajiki and the one time he surprised you

word count 1.3k

reader type gender-neutral

“Amajiki-Kun?”

Their sweet voice makes his heart jolt, its beating rhythm shifts from a casual jog to a panicked sprint. He squeezes his eyes shut when he takes sight of the cheeky grin that quickly spreads across Mirio’s face. He remains frozen until his friend’s foot swings out and nicks him in the shin underneath their usual shared lunch table.

Tamaki’s eyes fly open and his breath catches on the stale cafeteria air like a bur snagging on an exposed sock when he inevitably sees them standing and gazing down at him. It’s a fleeting look, but it’s enough for him to notice the apples of their cheeks puffing out cutely and their whimsical aura of a smile that’s practically blinding.

His throat is bone-dry, but a single word somehow sneaks past his also withered lips.

“Y-Yes?” He’s still staring down at his half-eaten lunch, but they’re so utterly warm, he can easily feel them beside him.

What could they possibly want from him?

Another gentle kick to his lower leg encourages Tamaki to slowly lift his head and turn to them. He’s glad he did because their bright smile is somehow even brighter than before.

“So, hi, I know this is random but....”

They’re absolutely lovely in every sense of the word; from the way they draw out the last word to the breathy little laugh that punctuates their sentence.

“... I was wondering if you wanted this. I made way too many yesterday, but then I saw you sitting over here and remembered how you said you had a sweet tooth during that icebreaker on the first day of school. I just kinda thought “Oh, that’s perfect”, but you definitely don’t have to take it, okay?”

Amid his first stage cardiac arrest, Tamaki had failed to even see the skewer of delectable glistening Dango they’re holding. They offer it out to him and he manages to accept the dessert with a shaking hand.

“Thank you, Y/L/N.” He feels his face bloom with a rather powerful flush.

They nod and make heart-dropping eye contact for a second. “Of course, Amajiki. You’re very welcome. Have a nice day!”

Mirio starts talking before they’re even completely out of earshot.

“You do realize that they probably made those just for you? Congrats, I think someone has a not-so-secret admirer if you know what I mean.”

“Please not right now, Mirio…” Tamaki whines in embarrassment before taking a huge first bite out of his treat.

It’s one of the best things he’s ever tasted.

Tamaki gingerly tears off the little blue butterfly plush that was tapped to the front of his locker. He squeezes the stuffed animal and resists the sudden urge to hug it to his chest.

A single sheet of paper floats out and to his feet after opening the door. Someone must have put these here not that long ago. The realization gives Tamaki an unnerving chest pain and a fluttering crescendo in his stomach.

He carefully picks it up and a faint gasp escapes him as he examines the sparkly multi-colored butterfly stickers that cover the paper and the single sentence scrawled among them.

“I heard that you liked them <3”

Tamaki wants to shove his head in his locker, but before he does, he sees them out of the corner of his eye at the drinking fountain. He’s never seen them in this hallway before…

They finish and apparently spot him, smiling and waving brightly like it’s something the two of them do every day. Tamaki nearly faints on the spot with his heart pattering up a storm.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I forgot!��� Nejire squeals and pushes away the textbook in front of her. It’s clear their weekly “Big Three” studying session is about to take the back burner…

“Amajiki, guess what?”

“What?” Tamaki winces, wondering how this could possibly involve him.

Nejire lets out another excited squawk and spins her decorated pen between her fingers. “Y/L/N was totally talking about you! I heard them! Do you know what they said? They think you’re really cute, Amajiki. Can you believe it?”

He can not.

Usually, hearing that others were talking about him would’ve sent waves of unbearable anxiety rushing over him, drowning him, but this whole thing feels a bit different. Don’t get it twisted, he’s still as anxious as ever clutching his pencil like a lifeline. The difference is that there’s a pleasant kind of flickering deep inside his chest.

“You’re joking…” Tamaki groans and jumps when Mirio slaps his back roughly.

“I knew it!” He makes an enthusiastic ‘whoop’ noise. “I told you that they were into you!”

Nejire clasps her hands together, her flowing mass of hair practically vibrating like the rest of her and her energy. “This is so, so adorable! Look how pink his ears are getting!”

Tamaki doesn’t hesitate to cover his face and hide away from his two well-meaning, but overbearing friends.

His savior comes in the form of a still laughing Mirio. “Hado-san, we’ve got to leave him be before he combusts on the spot.”

Tamaki can’t believe he agreed to this. Well, technically he didn’t have a choice in the matter, but still.

He’s selling t-shirts with his face on them. His face! Why would Fatgum ever think this was a good idea for a fundraiser? It’s horrifying, actually. People have already purchased some and he still can’t fathom it as an actual thing. Why would anyone want that?

And then everything goes into overdrive when they walk up to his stand, practically skipping with a winning smile.

He can’t help but gawk at them.

“What?” They tilt their head, an easy laugh masking any possibility of them being as flustered as him.

“I’m a huge fan of Suneater.”

Their lips are soft and lush when they brush against Tamaki’s burning cheek. He feels so warm, the closest thing that he can compare the feeling to is the sensation of when you dip into a steaming bubble bath. They’re just so close to him and he swears he can hear their heart beating as hard as his.

They pull away, lashes touching their cheekbones and exhaling deeping. Their hand still grips his forearm before that touch leaves him too.

“Bye… Tamaki.” His first name seems to hesitantly seep out and he feels like he’s floating. “See you tomorrow?”

It’s such a good feeling that he can’t even get himself to pay attention to his shock.

“See you tomorrow.”

This is long overdue and Tamaki knows it.

Mirio and Nejire’s encouragement plus his own common sense is pushing him to ask them out right now. It’s just odd that they haven’t done it first already. They were the ones initiating everything, after all. He guesses they’ve just left that up to him for whatever reason.

He’s going to rise to that occasion. He has to.

“I wanted to ask…”

He pauses, taking a deep breath to steady himself. They nod at him to continue. Their smile is gentle, equivalent to a fluffy blanket. Their eyes are sparkling, so glittering and alive. Their hands look soft, tempting to take and squeeze in his own.

“... D-Do you want to go out with me?”

Tamaki glups heavily and forces himself to watch for their reaction.

Those lively eyes go wide and honeyed lips part slightly. Their gaze swiftly falls to the ground and Tamaki’s heart takes a huge drop from several stories. It feels like it’s getting harder to breathe…

Suddenly, they move forward, wrapping their arms around his middle. Their face buries into the crook of his neck. He shivers and embracing them back when he hears, and feels, the words whispered against his exposed skin.

“I would love to.”

────────────────────────

[mandoalorian]

Office Surprise [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Authors note: Credit goes to one of my besties for coming up with this idea— I hope I executed it alright. Also I wrote this all in one sitting so apologies if it’s a bit muddled, I think it should be okay though. Maxwell and the reader have a pre-existing relationship and it’s inferred that they’ve dated for quite a long while. 

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT | oral (f receiving), use of toys, unprotected p in v, slight praise k!nk/degradation, a little rough, slight dom/sub dynamic if you squint, choking.

Word count: 5k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @ah-callie​ @luvzoria​ @stardust-galaxies​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @goth-topic​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first​ @pedroepascal​

Masterlist

Being the girlfriend of Maxwell Lord certainly wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but as you swiped his platinum black Amex card at the Victoria Secret cashier, you recognised it had its privileges. What did he expect you to do? Sit at home all day reading interior design magazines and baking desserts? No. You were bored. Maxwell had come home every night and complained about his long hard week at work but you knew it couldn’t be as boring as sitting alone in his enormous DC house. It got so incredibly lonely.

You planned on travelling to the city anyways today; to get some final Christmas presents for your friends. And Maxwell’s office just so happened to be located in the city centre and so you figured it would only be polite to pay him a little visit. After all, he surely couldn’t be too busy to see you. You had his driver drop you off and pick you up from the different shops. You had been dating Maxwell long enough to understand the way his mind worked. If you wanted to visit him during one of his busiest work weeks, you’d have to give him a reason to make you want to stay.

You had visited his office plenty of times before. He’d greet you with the same surprised smile and elation in his eyes, but it wouldn’t be long until he put his head back down and ignored you for his work, humming whenever you tried speaking to him and only ever vaguely listening. As Maxwell’s driver took you to your next store of choice, you let your mind ponder ways you could really grab his full attention.

You wanted to have fun. The more your mind raced, the more you wanted to make your visit unforgettable. And that’s when your idea to visit Victoria Secret came to you. You hadn’t been to the store in a while, smiling pleasantly when you were greeted with a happy employee wearing a santa hat. Pulling down your sunglasses in hope she didn’t recognise you, you offered her a smile. “We have our new Christmas range in stock.” she grinned cheerily.

“Take me to it, please,” you replied and the employee nodded excitedly, guiding you through the aisles.

“A lot of red lingerie sets this year.” She held her arms out, showing you the variety. One pieces, two pieces, full blown costumes. One set in particular caught your eye… a lacy number with a small silk ribbon. It was like nothing you owned before and you knew how much Maxwell liked the colour red on you. You took it from the rack. “An excellent choice!” the store assistant beamed. You were ready to pay and leave but then she opened her mouth again. “We have a new range of toys too!” 

Toys? That could be interesting.

Before you knew it, you were in the back of the black limousine, frantically changing out of your clothes and into your newly purchased lingerie. It only took a few minutes for the driver to pull up outside Black Gold Cooperative. You fastened your heels and tied the belt around your knee length crimson coloured coat before stepping out of the car. 

You practically yelped as the cold winter air stung your skin. You weren’t sure how great of an idea it was, to visit Maxwell wearing nothing but lingerie and his favourite coat, but it was too late to have any regrets now. With a confident smile, you pulled off your sunglasses and entered the building through the rotating glass doors.

Maxwell’s assistant and receptionist, both intern age blonde girls, greeted you with a snarl. “You- you aren’t supposed to be here!” His assistant pointed an accusing finger at you. “Mr Lord is fully booked up today and you haven’t made an appointment!” 

“Give me a break,” you rolled your eyes, storming over to the elevator, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You knew they envied you for being the girlfriend of the richest man in America but you didn’t care enough to give them the time of day.

You entered the elevator and let it take you to the very top floor; where Maxwell’s office was.

"Oh hey, look who it is." Bradley Huntington, acting sales manager of Black Gold Cooperative smiled as you stepped out the elevator. Two men who were standing alongside him turned to face you, their jaw dropping slightly as they drunk in your appearance. You refrained from shooting them an eye roll— the men here had absolutely no shame. They wanted you to know that they were watching you.

"Hi boys." you replied with a faux politeness, your ruby red lips curling into a returning smile. "What are you doing out here, chatting by the coffee machine?" you raised a curious eyebrow. "Maxwell going easy on your workload?" You didn't care, you didn't snoop your nose in your boyfriend's business, but you did enjoy pretending like you had some kind of authority as his partner. It was fun to see these slimy grown men panic at your words.

"On a break," Bradley replied plainly, his smirk only growing as he took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. "I don't see you around here much anyway. Was beginning to wonder if you had gotten sick of that old grump and made a run for it." he chuckled, dropping a hand to his hip and pointing his finger at the double doors behind him that lead into Maxwell Lord's office.

You shot him a sweet little giggle, as if to trick him into thinking his flirtations were working. "Leave Maxie?" you laughed. "That cutie wouldn't have a clue what to do without me!" you exclaimed, the wicked smile not leaving your lips for one second. "Now if you excuse me…" you went to enter Maxwell's office but a comment made by Bradley made you pause in your tracks.

"Sweetheart," he laughed. "You belong on MTV, not in an office building or cooped up in Maxwell's bedroom."

"Isn't he Mr Lord to you?" you shot back with a snarl, the smile slipping from his face only momentarily. You grinned when you saw the panic wash over him, his face turning pale with nerves.

"Uh actually- me and Mr Lord- me and Maxwell, are good friends. We're on first name basis." Bradley fumbled out. You wanted to laugh at his lame attempt of a smooth recovery. You knew that wasn't true at all.

"Good friends huh?" you folded your arms across your chest.

"Mm," Bradley mumbled, stepping closer to you and placing his hand over your coat. "Take your coat off, you must be hot." You felt your heart jump and a sickness bubble up in your stomach. Bradley really was slimy.

"I'm good." you shot back. Bradley shrugged and reached down to the belt that was holding your coat together. He slowly leaned into you and you quickly pushed him off you. Bradley stumbled back into an abundance of chairs, knocking a few over in the process.

"Darling?" You felt your heart rate increase speed when you heard your boyfriend's voice. Your head turned to face Maxwell who was standing by his office door, scowling. You looked back at Bradley who's colour had completely drained out of his face and you beamed.

"Maxie!" you smiled, walking over to your boyfriend and protectively placing a hand under his suit jacket and setting place on his chest. His scowl didn't move from Bradley as he slid an arm around your waist, holding you tight.

"Thought I could hear your voice," Maxwell whispered in your ear causing a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to catch up with your friends." you teased. Maxwell lifted a curious eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he quizzed, beginning to feel irritated by the presence of his employees, and even more annoyed by the lilt in your voice that suggested you wanted to play with him.  "I hope Bradley wasn't causing any fuss." Maxwell raised his voice and Bradley shook his head furiously.

"N-no sir, not at all." Bradley said quickly, offering the CEO a nervous smile. You bit your lip and gently tugged on Maxwell's tie.

"Baby," you whined out, looking up at him through your fluttering eyelashes. "Can we go into your office?" you asked sweetly. Maxwell finally tore his eyes from an anxious Bradley and smiled down at you.

"Of course darling." he replied, ushering you through the door.

"Bye boys! Behave!" you called, shooting them one last smirk.

"Alright come on now." Maxwell sighed, placing his hand into the small of your back and pushing you into his office.

You padded into his huge office, placing your purse and shopping bags down on one of the chairs. Before Maxwell entered, he made sure to shoot Bradley one final death glare. Maxwell locked the double doors and turned around. He grabbed you by the collar of your red coat and pinned you to the door, pressing his lips against yours passionately. In fact, so passionately, you wondered if his harshness would leave a bruise. He bit down on your lower lip, his hand snapping ahold of your neck causing a small gasp escape your lips. Maxwell pulled away, his breathing heavy against your skin. "What happened?" he gritted out, looking up at you with lust-blown eyes.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him off you, walking away from where he had pinned you against the door. "Nothing, just your sleazy coworkers not knowing when to give up." you rolled your eyes, checking your appearance in the mirror and fixing your lipstick as it had smudged from the kiss.

"Bradley," Maxwell exhaled, his eye contact not breaking from you once. "Did he touch you?"

"Enough to make me uncomfortable? Yes. But I got him off me. I can handle myself, Maxie." you sighed, fixing your hair and turning back to your boyfriend.

"I know you can," Maxwell said lowly, slowly approaching you. You recognised that primal glint lighting up in his eyes and you smiled. "What did he say to you?"

"Said I shouldn't spend all day cooped up at home, or here, in your office. He said I was pretty enough to be on MTV." you beamed proudly and Maxwell grunted, nodding slowly. He placed a hand, cupping your face and rubbed his thumb along the high of your cheekbones.

"He must've been feeling bold, hitting on you like that." Maxwell tutted. You nuzzled your face into his hand, the coolness of his gold rings making you wince only slightly.

"What do you think Maxie?" you asked, your voice as sweet as honey. "Am I pretty enough to be on television?" you let your hands pull off his suit jacket and roam over his white button down shirt, tugging teasingly at his suspenders as you waited for a response.

But Maxwell didn't stay a word. He looked down at you with his lust-blown eyes and ran his thumb over the plumpless of your lower lip. You parted your mouth, taking his finger and sucking on the digit. Maxwell mewled as he watched you intently, admiring the work of your mouth. You pulled your lips away from his finger with a pop and beamed proudly when you saw the slight blush that crossed his face.

"I think you show up at my work uninvited, dressed like that, flirting with my employees…" he scowled, his gaze not lifting from you once. You wanted to fight him for accusing you of flirting with other men, but you knew him. And he knew you. He knew you would always be faithful; he was just playing a game. Another one of Maxwell Lord's twisted games that you had grown accustomed too. He had that look in his eye— the one you were all too familiar with. It was almost predatory. He tsked, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle. "Look at you, here, in my office, thinking you can call the shots. I'm busy darling, go home."

"Oh," you hummed, biting your lip and twiddling with your hair. "Because if you're too busy... Bradley offered me-" Your lilt was teasing and you could tell it was making him feel defensive. You knew how protective he got over you.

"What?" Maxwell sneered, his hand dropping to the belt that held your coat together.

You gulped, knowing that if he just tugged a little harder on the belt, your little surprise for him would be revealed. "He- uhm, he-"

"C'mon honey, spit it out." Maxwell smirked, loving the jumbled reaction he was getting out of you, although he was unsure why you were suddenly so nervous when you had walked into his office so confidently. His hands didn't leave your belt and you took a deep breath, looking up at him and into his eyes.

"Said that if I ever get bored of you, I know where to find him." You pursed your lips together and shot him a devilish smile.

"Tell me darling," Maxwell hummed, his hand once again reaching up to your face, his finger brushing over your lips. "What urged you to come to my office in the middle of the day when you know I'm swarmed with work?" he narrowed his eyes.

"I got bored." you admitted sheepishly, swaying your hips from side to side.

"So you come to my work… act like a brat and…" Maxwell paused when he saw you pout. "What?"

"I didn't do anything wrong Maxie." you whined. "Was all them. Was all Bradley." 

"You have everything at home. Everything you need to keep you occupied." Maxwell glanced over at your shopping bags that were on his chair. "Spending my money?" Maxwell asked and you nodded shyly.

"But I think you'll like it." you told him, biting your lip.

"Show me."

You placed his hands back on the belt of your coat. "See for yourself." you whispered with a smirk.

Taking the hint, Maxwell slowly tugged on your belt that was tying your coat together. Coming loose, your coat opened up, revealing the lace red lingerie set you were doting, and nothing else. Maxwell's gaze fell from your face to your body as he revelled in the gorgeous sight that stood before him. You stood there in silence for a few seconds, as he drunk in every inch of your body.

"You've been wearing that this whole time?" Maxwell swallowed, staring at your tits. Finally he brought himself to look up at your face, taking a deep breath and straightening his posture. "While you were talking to Brad-"

"Max please," you rolled your eyes, shuffling out of the coat and letting it drop to the floor.

"I've never seen it before." Maxwell admitted.

"It's new," you told him, taking a step closer and pulling off his suit jacket, letting it pool on the floor alongside your winter coat. "Got it for you. You like it?" you smiled, twirling around and giving him a little dance. Your heels clicked against the marble floor as you spun around for him. Maxwell didn't say anything, but if the bulge in his tailored pants was anything to go off… you giggled. "Oh Maxie, you do like it."

Maxwell cleared his throat. "Whilst you do look ravishing, I am busy so-" 

"But I wasn't finished showing you what I bought." you poured, blinking your doe-like eyes and folding your arms over your chest, the lace grazing your skin.

Maxwell shook his head and walked back over to his desk, sinking into his office chair. He cursed under his breath as he began to palm himself under his desk knowing you wouldn't be able to see. He looked down at the abundance of papers, trying to concentrate, but it wasn't working. Giving in, he looked back over to you.

You were bent over, rummaging through one of your shopping bags in search of something. Your legs were spaced apart so perfectly, Maxwell knew you must've been doing it on purpose— to tease him. His eyes felt heavy as he watched you, his fingers grazing over his throbbing length. He felt so restricted, so confined… but he didn't want to give you the liberty of knowing what you had done to him. When he saw you straighten yourself back up, he looked back down at the stack of papers on his desk. 

You picked out a long black box with no markings, and placed it before Maxwell on his desk. Maxwell looked up at you, waiting for an explanation. "What is it?" he asked and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Open it." you urged with a smile. Maxwell hesitated, his gaze wandering to the locked door, back to you, and then down at the matte box. He carefully undone the ribbon that wrapped it and opened the lid. Rummaging amongst the tissue, his eyes glinted with desire and wicked delight upon finding what you had bought. He couldn't help but smirk. "Well?" you cooed, perching yourself on the corner of your desk.

Maxwell nodded, not saying a word. He took the purple vibrator out of the box and put it down on the desk next to his stationary. "This couldn't have waited until I got home?" he quizzed, his voice breaking slightly. You grinned and shook your head. "I see."

"Am I in trouble?" you pouted and Maxwell's smirk grew. He pushed the papers and the stationary from his desk, clearing it of room.

"Lie down." he demanded and you squealed excitedly. You reached down to your feet to unclip your heels when Maxwell brought his hand to your neck. "No. Keep them on." he ordered sternly. You bit your lip and nodded, obeying his request. His large hand still wrapped around your neck, he carefully pushed you into the table.

The coolness of the expensive oak made you squirm. Maxwell walked around his desk, grabbing your legs and dragging your body further down closer to him. He spread them apart and began to kiss along your thighs. "I do love this colour on you." he mumbled into your skin, his fingers gracing your soaked core through the red lace. You shivered under his touch and you swore you could feel his smirk press into your skin.

"I know." you admitted with a shaky exhale. He wasted no time teasing. He thought it was only fair he got a little payback. The curve of his nose nudged against your clit as he pressed soft kisses into your cunt.

You brought your hands down to your panties in attempt to wriggle them off and free yourself but Maxwell's large ring clad hands stopped you. "Patience." he muttered and you let out a whine as he licked you through the material.

"Please," you begged, your toes curling with pleasure as he kisses around your entrance. 

"I thought you bought this lingerie for me, baby," Maxwell chuckled, his warm breath going straight through your core.

"I did." you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as he continued to kiss and lick.

"So let me enjoy it," he growled, lifting his head up from between your legs and fumbling with the little red bow at the top of your panties. "It's cute." Maxwell smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up. He pulled your legs further down and you wrapped them around his waist as he leaned over your body.

Hovering over you, he pressed a soft kiss into your neck and began to palm at your breast, running his thumb over your hardening nipple as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You brought your hands up to his hair and laced your fingers in his dark blonde locks, tugging on it just the way you knew he liked. You wondered if he was going to even take your bra off; heck— you wondered if he was going to take his own clothes off. He was standing over you in his suit pants and white work shirt, although the tie and the suspenders had been ditched.

You were breathless when Maxwell pulled away from your lips and his hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing gently. The pressure made you gasp out a soft moan as he brought his kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach until his head was positioned back in between your legs.

"You're exquisite." Maxwell sighed, raking in his view.  He pressed his middle finger and index finger into your core, feeling how damp your panties already were. "All for me?" he cooed, his brown eyes sparkling with delight. He switched over to his thumb where he began to rub your clit. "Such a good girl." he praised, beginning to tear away your new underwear from your body.

Pretty soon, your red panties were thrown aimlessly on the floor along with Maxwell's suit jacket and your winter coat and Maxwell wasted no time into latching his mouth onto your pussy. You practically screamed at the way his tongue worked within you, lapping up all your arousal like he hadn't had a decent meal in his life. "Hungry?" you joked breathlessly. Not in the mood, Maxwell didn't unattach his lips from you but he did insert two of his fingers without warning. You found yourself arching your back, moaning wantonly as he worked through your core. His groans as he sucked on your clit left vibrations rifle through your body as his fingers pounded inside of you. Obscene wet sounds echoed through his office as a result from his actions.

You dug your heels into his back and felt your legs start to shake uncontrollably as his movements became faster and more intense. His hands grabbed your thighs as he tried to steady you but it was barely any use. Seeing that you were close, he kept up his stamina until your climax ripped through your body, soaking his lips dripping down his chin. When he pulled away, you felt yourself blush at the state he was in. His hair had fallen out of place and his face was glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your juices.

Maxwell unclipped his gold cufflinks, tossing them on the floor and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. Just as you were about to thank him, his hand reached over to the vibrator. "M-Max," you tried to protest as he flicked the switch. It began to buzz erratically and he spent a few moments accustoming himself to the different speeds and pressures. "Max." you wriggled, trying to sit up, but he pushed you back down, hushing you. The least he could do was wait until you had recovered from your first orgasm, but no. He pressed the vibrator to your clit casually and another gasp tore through you. "Max!" you yelled and he chuckled.

"I like this one." he grinned, adjusting the speed and watching you toss and turn on his desk.

"Fuck, Max," you yelped, your fingers curling into a fist as you began to feel that familiar warmth in your stomach signifying that you were close.

"Aw, you going to cum again?" Maxwell chuckled, turning up the speed to the highest setting. "Look at you, all spread out on my desk screaming my name."

Your vision became hazy and your eyes snapped shut as your orgasm hit you leaving you dizzy and panting. Maxwell shut off the vibrator and tossed it to one side. You groaned, holding your face in your hands as you came down your high. Maxwell stared at you, all messed up on his desk, and he couldn't rid himself of his smile.

You looked down to see his damage. "Oh Maxie," you whimpered, reaching your hands out when you saw the bulge stretching out his tailored pants. You sat upright and Maxwell gave you a small kiss on the head. "Let me help you." you whispered, moving your hands to his zipper but he swatted them away. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows as he tsked you. "Maxwell Lord denying head?" you scoffed, reaching back out to his pants. Your fingers only slightly brushed over his length but it was enough to make him shudder. He pushed you back into the oak desk for a third time.

"Stay." he commanded, his voice gruff as he ran his fingers through his hair and pushed his locks out of his face. His eyes were practically black as he examined you, pushing apart your legs and running his fingers along your dripping folds.

"Stop- teasing-" you growled, tossing your head back. "You- you've already got two orgasms out of me."

"And I know I can get one more." Maxwell snarled, unzipping his pants and pulling out his rock hard length. He collected the beads of his precum and rubbed it over his throbbing cock, just the gentlest of strokes almost pushing him over the edge.

You were too busy staring at the pretty gold pattern in the ceiling, a feeling of pure blissed out euphoria washed over your spent body, when you felt your boyfriend's cock push between your entrance. "How's this?" Maxwell grunted as he snapped his hips deep inside of you. "Could Bradley do this?"

You curled your hands into a fist as he thrust deep inside of you, repeating his movements hard and fast with no mercy. "Sh- shut upppp." you whined, grabbing onto his biceps as he pushed his body over yours to hit at a deeper angle. He laughed and pressed his hand into your throat once more.

"Ngh- so pretty," he cursed under his breath. You closed your eyes. "Look at me," he hissed, and you obliged as he proceeded to fuck the life out of you. "So good to me." he praised.

"Max," you wailed as his cock pressed into your sweet spot.

"Is that good for you?" he bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

"Mhmmm," You agreed. "Maxxxxx."

"Yeah baby?"  the use of his little names for you only riled you on more and eventually he felt your walls squeeze around his cock as you came undone.

"I want you to cum in me," you begged, your eyes glossy and pleading as your final orgasm washed over you.

"Will you promise to me a good girl?" he asked you and you squirmed under his praise.

"I'm always a good girl," you breathed out. "Always good for you Maxie."

"Yeah," Maxwell moaned, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He pressed a sloppy kiss into your neck and pushed deep into you, biting his teeth into the skin of your jaw. With one final hard thrust he was spilling inside of you.

Maxwell steadied himself, his cock softening inside of you until eventually it slipped out. You moaned at the loss of the fullness and he shuddered, quickly tucking himself back into his pants and zipping himself up. It only took a few seconds for him to notice his cum leaking from your pussy. With shaky legs, he padded to the drawer under his desk, unlocking it and taking out some silk handkerchiefs. He opened your legs gently and began to clean you up with the utmost care and affection.

"How do you feel?" he whispered into the shell of your ear, discarding the handkerchief when he was finished. He helped you sit upright and pulled you onto his lap, smoothing out your hair.

"Tired," you whispered, nuzzling your face into his chest. He kissed your forehead and wrapped his arms around your practically naked body, his strong arms holding you still and steady.

"I get off in three hours, why don't you take a nap on my sofa and then we can go home together?" Maxwell suggested.

"Mmm," you smiled, closing your eyes. "Or I could just stay here. Like this? But oh- you have that meeting…" you sighed. You went to stand up but Maxwell's grip around you tightened.

"Darling, stay here," you cooed. "I can cancel the meeting. It is my company after all. Besides, I'd rather be here with you."

You felt yourself blush. "You know Maxie, I do love you. So much." 

"I know," Maxwell answered, his voice unrecognisably soft. "I love you too." He didn't say those three words often, but you knew that deep down he meant it. He loved you. "Oh, and thanks for the surprise."

[vydante]

Restart | END | Avengers x Male! Reader

I am discontinuing my Restart series because I've simply lost creative juices for it. That's it, no elaborate or other reason. Anyways, I didn't want to just end it on the last chapter, and as someone who loves to overshare (especially if it's unsolicited), I thought some might like to see what drafts I had in plan, going chapter by chapter.

It goes up to Ch. 20 with additional bonus chapters, and chapters where I wasn't sure where they were going to be placed in the timeline.

If you have any comments, let me know! I'd love to read them :)

Here goes! Warning: very long, since the formatting is weird! The reader will be referred to as (Name) and "you", as in the story.

Right after Ch. 12 (Circumvention), are 2 special chapters (High Caliber Bullet) & (America's Sweethearts).

(High Caliber Bullet)'s basic plot was that Barnes, now # amount of weeks since the last chapter, has gained some freedoms and can now go out and about with either (Name) or DAHLIA for supervision (via his phone, and through the cameras everywhere).

In this particular chapter, he basically goes out for a typical grocery run with DAHLIA "accompanying" him, since before, he remembers (Name) telling him that "I won't always be there with you". But something bad happens! Wooo! (Maybe an attempted robbery, I didn't have the details sorted out yet.)

Either way, DAHLIA loses contact with him, and she tries to contact you ASAP, but it takes a little while since your dumbass was asleep the whole time! Wow! The suit had to manually power on and shake you awake.

Anyways, the only thing I had "written down" after that was that, after a failed search attempt for James, you go back home and are greeted with a surprise... "Kabedon"? Or, you're pinned to the walls by James... Or, rather, the Winter Soldier! 

You're not sure what's going on, only that, "Wow, Barnes is acting weird. Why is he suddenly Russian? Wh- Okay, wow, he's suddenly gotten a lot closer. Now, wait a fuckin' minute-!"

Either way, you and James make a discovery of a second personality living inside his body- the Soldier! Or Winter, I'm still unsure which I would have gone for. If you're familiar with certain WinterIron tropes, this is one of them. Anyways, that's the end of that chapter, or what I had written so far, anyway.

This chapter is really important to the canon of Restart since it establishes Soldier, but it didn't fit into my initial plans of 10 chapters an arc, so. That's why it's a "special" chapter.

The next "special" chapter after that was (America's Sweethearts). I had written 2 "chunks" of text for this chapter. The main plot is, basically, you and Steve spent a platonic (promise!) Valentine's Day together. Hence the title. Cute, right? This was referenced in Ch. 9 (Revelation) during Future! Steve's reminiscing.

Anyways, below the next text is what I had written for that chapter. It will be in normal text.

No other thoughts on that, so let's move on.

"You live like this?"

In his defense, Steve's apartment wasn't messy in the slightest. In fact, it was the other way around- everything was too clean, too pristine, too detached. The only saving grace he's getting from standing in the middle of his apartment is the fact that compared to the chilly Brooklyn weather, it was almost obnoxiously warm in his apartment. 

Not only did he have the heater going on, but he had another separate, portable heater blasting hot air in the corner.

(Sometimes, and only sometimes, Steve will stand in front of the heater and slowly spin around like a rotisserie chicken. The heat feels good, in his defense.)

The heat was something that you, thankfully, didn't comment on as you shed your jacket and slung it around the coat hanger near the door. You're wearing an over-sized tee- Thor's tee, he absentmindedly notes- and some sweats, both like and unlike the (Name) he often sees.

(It's not uncommon for Steve to glance at a newspaper or TV still shot and see you with your hair slicked back and dressed head to toe in a suit so expensive he's confident it costs at least a few years' worths of a typical New Yorker's rent.

Neither is uncommon to see you on the front cover of Men's Magazine, wearing a simple tee that shouldn't look that good on you but still does and posing confidently for the camera.

But despite all that, all of the clearly flattering outfits you could possibly wear at the tips of your fingers, often Steve will see you wear a disparagingly obnoxious, dirty shirt, and an old pair of sweats as your go-to outfit.)

(No, he will never admit that he really likes seeing you like that. Even with the mysterious smudged substance often found on the bottom of your sweats, as if you had swing danced in mud and crude oil.)

Regardless, while he often questions your private life fashion choices (and this is coming from a man who willingly wears khakis), he at least knows why you're wearing what you are, given the fact that he's also dressed in an overused tee and some joggers.

"What's wrong with my apartment? Not up to par with your penthouse standards?" Steve jests.

"Steve. Please." You threw him an unimpressed glare, much to Steve's never-ending amusement.

You glanced back to the inside of the apartment and squinted at it with what Steve could only describe as a rich man's scrutinizing gaze, before shrugging nonchalantly. You strolled into his apartment with a confidence Steve can still never get used to, one that reminds him so much of Tony's, and even Howard on his bad days.

(He understands why Tony doesn't like it when he brings Howard up, as he belatedly realizes that Howard didn't die the same man he knew him as, but he never understood why you've suddenly gotten bitter about Howard as well.)

He follows you into the hallway, and if it weren't for the fact that this was his apartment, he would've looked like a lost puppy following its new owner.

His apartment's not really that big, so it doesn't take long before you've both reached the living room. A simple TV, simple couch, simple table. Nothing really exciting in his living room, but it serves its purposes, in Steve's opinion.

(This is the end of that chunk. Next is where I picked up in writing. Short time skip, they both fall asleep and now Steve's waking up.)

It was the change in the smell that woke him up.

It's always the scent of fresh linen that greeted him early in the morning, something that's become so attuned to his everyday life. So when, instead, popcorn and sweets drifts his way, for a brief second his heart rate jumps.

'What?', his mind asks as he opens his eyes, bleary but cautious.

'Oh,' his mind responds back at him when his eyes drift down to your sleeping form laying splayed right on top of him, body glued to his side. You're mainly hogging the blanket, but he doesn't really mind as he runs hot 24/7. 

'Oh', his mind repeats softly, as something deep unfurls from his stomach and rises to his throat, clenching up and unable to say anything as his eyes fixate themselves on your steady breathing. Your lips are too close to his neck, each breath too warm, even for him. His skin burns where it meets yours, and absently he thinks, 'this is nice'.

'Yeah,' he lifts his hand to brush away a strand of hair away from your eyes, 'This is nice.'

Steve blearily throws a glance at the clock on his nightstand. 4 more minutes until he'd typically wake up and start his day with a morning jog.

'No,' his body protests.

'Okay,' his mind agrees without a fight.

He carefully reaches over and presses the silence button on his alarm. Above him, a breathy exhale escapes your lips at the sudden movement, and if possible, you curl closer to him than you were before. He pauses, unsure if you're going to wake up or not, but relax when he realizes that you're still in a deep slumber.

(Another break. Next sentence was supposed to be the final sentence of the chapter.)

In the end, neither of you commented about how Steve had missed his daily morning run as his limbs were straddled in between yours.

Ch. 13 (Upheaval) and 14 (Airlocked) are short in terms of drafting, so I'll combine them into one section here. Ch. 13 (Upheaval) was about taking down SHIELDRA in a better manner than the mess that was CA:TWS. And (Name) also forces Steve and Natasha to fess up immediately about Tony's parent's murderer. ((Name) threatens them.)

As for Ch. 14 (Airlocked), it's pretty much a filler chapter of sorts. (Name) graduates, there's now an official class-action lawsuit against Ross, also now keeping an eye on Baron Zemo, and we see some progression on Barne's therapy session. Not much, but some.

I really was not looking forward to these two chapters, as I knew they were gonna be boring as hell.

Ch. 15 (Spiralling) has actual written chunks. It's basically about the early prevention of Ultron. The Avengers go to a Sokovian HYDRA base, take out baddies, and the Super Twins get captured first- wow! But not before Wanda does... something to (Name), causing you to hallucinate and lose contact with the team- uh oh!

But don't worry! You get run over by a car. Lol. Below is what I had written for it, sans minor text.

A/N: In Ch. 7 (Summer), there was a 'dream-sequence' that happened where (Name) was on Titan with Tony, Peter, Stephen, and the GOTG. I've now decided that in canon, (Name) was not on Titan- instead, you were on Earth instead during IW helping at Wakanda. Just a brief plot-hole wrap-up; let's imply that (Name) had watched video footage of the fight at Titan via Tony's suit afterward, and that's where the nightmare came from. Okay bye.

(VERY abrupt start into the story, not meant to be the start of the chapter in the final draft, just where I wanted to start writing. Intro to Wanda.)

You jerked your head, catching a glimpse of brunette hair in the corner of your eyes. You swung your gauntlet instinctively and made instant contact with whatever was next to you. Flutters of red wisps followed your eyes, and you instantly knew what just happened as a body dropped next to you. 

You grunted and leaned onto the nearest wall, watching the girl's limp body with caution. Your shoulder plate lifted, and a tranquilizing dart connected to her thigh.

Just in case.

"Guys, I- I've been- ugh..." You wanted to vomit, the pounding in your head worsening with each millisecond that passes. Already, your surroundings distort you with each blink, walls melting and the floor sinking in on itself. "I've been- com-," you swallowed back your bile, "-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."

You didn't even have enough time to hear a response before the whole world around you shifted. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm your thundering heartbeat. The pounding got worse as the armor around you dissipated into nothing but the under-suit you were wearing. Before, where there were the shouting and gunshots, is now replaced with an eerie silence filled with just your laborious breathing.

You didn't know the full extent of what visions you were about to see, but you needed to remember that none of this is real. Scientifically, that was your only safe haven from possibly losing your mind for what's about to come. And it was worse because you had no idea what visions you'd see. Would you see Thanos? The Chitauri, just like your father once had? Or would it be something more close to home; the bunker? Tony's dead body, splayed with vomit around him, frostbitten to the touch and still like a marbled statue? 

Ready to go up and arms at whatever it was you're about to see, you cautiously opened your eyes.

(Line break, there's meant to be an "oh shit" line, like "Only, you were met with eyes far too similar to yours." but I still didn't know what I wanted to do for the hallucination sequence. Maybe meeting an older you, a younger you, or your dream life without the Avengers or meta-humans.)

(Below is an abrupt shift in the story; same general setting, but outside POV! What I had was dialogue only, alternating between people in bold, as a POV switch.)

(Name) "Guys, I- I've been- ugh... I've been- com-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..." 

(Steve) "Apex, do you copy? (Name)!" 

(Steve) "Shit, (Name) isn't answering! Tony!"

(Tony) "Got his location, he's inside the base. J.A.R.V.I.S., what's his status?" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I'm sorry, Sir, but it appears that I am not in contact with his suit." 

(Tony) "Wha- the hell do you mean you're not in contact?!" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I cannot connect to his suit; it appears that Young Sir has somehow deprogrammed me from his suit." 

(Tony) "Wha-!" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "However, it seems as if there is an A.I. present nonetheless. Though..." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I do not recognize the code. Would you like me to attempt at forming a mode of communication?" 

(Tony) "Yeah, just- God, make sure (Name)'s okay, please." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "On it." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "Establishing a connection." 

(DAHLIA) "Mister Stark?"

(Tony) "Wha- I'm sorry- who are you?"

(DAHLIA), ignoring Tony, "An enhanced got to (Name). The operative is down, but (Name)'s experiencing hallucinations. I can't get through to him- you need to get to him, now. I fear he may hurt himself more than he already has."

(DAHLIA) "And if I may be privy to a request?"

(Tony) "What?"

(DAHLIA) "Don't bring Rogers." (I don't remember why I wrote this bit.)

(Steve) "Any updates on (Name)?"

(Tony) "Yep, and by the looks of it," there was a loud boom coming from the base, and as Tony looked up to see an all too familiar suit fly out of the building. Or, rather, flying was an interesting way to put it- it was more of a free-falling more than anything else.

(Steve) "What was that?"

(Tony) "That was (Name), and he's not havin' a great time I'll tell you that."

His voice was light and joking, but he'd be lying if he didn't say that his heart wasn't in his throat by the sight of you flying out of the building and falling back into the forests.

(Line break, another POV switch)

Steve sprinted towards the loud boom, movements quick and calculated, but mind racing a thousand miles an hour. He saw a red and gold glint fly up above him, zipping in and out between trees gracefully. 

(Line break, but no switch, same place. Another story POV shift, sort of. Steve makes contact with (Name), or so he thinks.)

"(Name)? Hey, do you copy?"

The suit was eerily silent, glowing eyes that once gave comfort to the soldier now bringing nothing but an awful, gripping dread; one that he'd get when there were Nazi soldiers nearby, but he couldn't tell where even with his enhanced senses. The suit gave away nothing that usually screamed out everything that was you- no head swaying, no restless and constantly shifting feet, only a stillness that looked so unnatural. Almost as if there was no one in there.

"(Name)?"

There was no response from you.

The hairs on Steve's neck stood up, everything in his system suddenly screaming to get out of there, run, leave, get away from the suit, but he ignored it as he took a cautious step forward.

Again, you didn't seem to react.

Then, the suit took a step forward.

Then another one.

And another one.

"(Name)-"

Before he could say anything more, the suit lunged forward. Only for a moment could Steve react, but even he wasn't as fast as you could be when you're in the suit. He raised his shield, ready to be shot at, but only the sound of harsh metal on metal makes it to his ears. By the sounds of it, it sounded like Tony had managed to land a direct hit on you, from wherever position he was at. Cautiously, Steve lowers his shield to look.

But instead of the familiar red and gold suit of armor greeting him, it's the sight of two (color) suits wrestling on the ground with each other that manages to sucker-punch all air from his lungs.

(Basically, you went bat shit insane and got out of the older suit, then prematurely activating the nano suit instead, in a fit of panicked hallucination. The older suit, now operating by DAHLIA, was trying to protect Steve from being ambushed by (Name), and now they're wrestling.)

(Another big break, but I think I had a hallucination sequence from (Name)'s POV planned here. Not sure what I was gonna do here since I planned this like, maybe in 2018, early 2019. It's... 2021 now...)

"-(Name)!"

Your eyes widened as the world around you suddenly shifts out of existence, and instead, you're outside in the dim, snowy alps once again. Someone called out to you, you don't know who, but there's a light in the corner of your eyes that's so goddamn bright. You turn your head in the direction of the light, and amidst all of the yelling and gunshots, DAHLIA's cool, chilling voice rings the loudest in your ear.

"Aborting protoc-"

And then the world turned black.

Ch. 16 (Enflamed) also has written text. Basically, you're recovering from being caught slipping by a car, the team is now aware of certain secrets you've been keeping behind their backs, and you realize that you have to get back to Barnes to let him know you're okay.

This chapter was meant to be focused on the twins, but I guess I forgot that as I was "writing" it. Basically, the gist was that their parent's deaths weren't by officially licensed Stark tech (maybe even a counterfeit since Stark weapons are the best, and don't malfunction as it did in WandaVision ep. 8). Maybe HYDRA was the one that did it in order to recruit more people. Or something like that. Basically, Tony wasn't the one who authorized those weapons to be sold and used there, but it was Stane. Either way, they get their own healthy moment to mourn and lament over it all.

Here's the text below. Italics for a dream sequence, since you were unconscious/ in a coma from being bOnked on by a car.

"Hey, sweetheart."

You smile, turning around to face the voice only to be greeted with lips on yours. You chuckle, amused that this was the first thing you'd be greeted with, but lean into the kiss anyways as you wrapped your fingers around their cheek.

They pull back first, but their eyes are warm as they smile, lingering in the space between the two of you. Where their hands laid on your hips, your skin burned bright hot, but you paid no mind to it. 

(There's supposed to be more, maybe foreshadowing, but I stopped here in terms of the dream sequence. Jump cut to another POV, but you're waking up!)

(Name) "Hnng..."

(Steve) "Stay down! You're in no condition to move at all, just- just rest, okay? The doctors- and- your dad are coming."

(Steve) "How're you feeling? You want some water?"

You tried to turn your head to look at the blonde but hissed suddenly.

(Name) "S'nnof'a' b'ch..." (Son of a bitch.)

Steve helped you settle back onto your pillow- which even he'll admit doesn't look like the most comfortable setting in the world.

"Language, (Name)..."

He reprimanded, but there's no heat in his words as he's just so thankful that you're even capable of forming any words, no matter how profane they may be.

Beside him, Clint laughs a bit too loud for comfort. Steve wants to tell him to be quiet, as he's sure you're sensitive to noise right now, but God he can't blame the archer for his overwhelming relief. 

Lord knows Clint wasn't the only one to stress over their youngest Avenger.

"First words after a damn coma, and it's 'son of a bitch'! I told you he's a fighter!"

"Of course he is, he's a Stark after all."

All eyes turn to see the billionaire and assassin walk into the room. They look clean and pristine as always, but by the slight sheen of sweat on both of them, Steve knew they rushed here as soon as word spread that you were awake.

(Natasha) "Tooting your own horn a little much there?"

Natasha's smile betrays her words as she looks fondly from the senior Stark to the junior. Even the ironclad wall she has up 24/7 has a soft spot for the team's junior member.

(Especially for the junior member, but you didn't hear that from Steve.)

(Tony) "It's both of our horns, excuse you."

Tony turns his attention to you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You sure took a hit back there, champ."

"Mmm... 'm feel like a... Nn... A damn Make A W'sh kid...", (Mm, am feeling like a damn Make A Wish kid...) your eyes, though blown out from still being drugged up, wandered across each Avenger. You frowned, then smirked- well, as best as you could, anyways. 

"Where's th' Hul'k? T'or?" (Where's the Hulk? Thor? (As a joke, since usually the whole gang visits, but they're missing))

"Relax junior, you're not that special. We can only afford so many Avengers to visit you."

Despite his harsh words, Tony places a kiss right on your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, lashes delicately batting as Tony leans away.

(Big block of nothing, there were supposed to be more text here, more dialogue or something. Same setting!)

(Tony) "So. We need to talk about what happened back there. Y'know. The brand-smackin' new A.I. that's in your suit- she's been awfully quiet. Oh, and the- lord, the thing's a work of art- the- what is it? Nanite suit? That's in a collar- a collar? I mean, I'm not one to judge questionable fashion statements, but-"

(Steve, or someone else) "Tony."

(Tony) "Right- but, we are going to talk about all that, okay?"

"L'ter, ple's? Am tir'd..." (Later, please? Am tired.)

"An' b'sides, chok'r's fun..." (And besides, chokers are fun.)

(Line break, basically, you remember you have a certain Winter Soldier that's been sitting at home without any word from you.)

’Oh fuck.’

(Big line break, basically, you get discharged from the hospital, and now you visit the safehouse Barnes is in to check up on him.)

It was eerily quiet when you opened the door to the safe house. You limped into the door, thankful that the ride on the way back, there were no paparazzi to see you leave at all. (Really, Happy should get a raise.) Lord knows how much of a rile that'll get out of the news media.

'Avengers' Golden Boy: Fatally Injured?' or something dumb like that.

You'd love to roll your eyes, but the tension that's coiling up in your gut surpasses the want as you slowly step into the house. It's warm, more so than the slow brewing chill that's been tempering outside. James never liked the cold, but even so, the house was warmer than you remembered. His shoes are still near the doorway, in the exact place that you remembered it to be, so he definitely hasn't gone anywhere.

(Though, the alerts that were on your phone from DAHLIA definitely show that he wanted to.)

For a brief moment, you were concerned that there wasn't enough food; but even then, DAHLIA would still be up, so she could place an online order to refill the fridge at a moment's notice, so it's not like James (even with his super-soldiered appetite) would starve himself here.

You quietly slipped out of your shoes, slowly as to not incur another cramp in your back, and stepped into the hallway barefooted. You glance into each room you pass by, but not a single sign of the soldier was anywhere to be found.

You stopped when you stood in front of one specific lounge room; yours and James' favorite lounge room.

Lurking into the room, you glanced around.

The room looked exactly like how it did days before when you were still conscious. There are a few mugs strewn about. Most empty, conjoined in one area of the table (James' area), but there's one that's filled with your favorite drink. A drink that you don't remember making for yourself.

And it's placed right in front of your favorite chair, too. Something squeezes at your heartstrings as you couldn't help but smile fondly.

It's gone cold, you absently note as you dip a finger into it. Wiping your finger on your pants, you grabbed it and the rest of the empty cups, making a note to place them into the dishwasher when you make it into the kitchen.

"James?"

You called out, but only your voice echoed back. The cups quietly rattled with each step, and it's not long before you make it into the kitchen. It, too, looks the same, but there's a thin layer of dust only a clean freak would notice. The sink is empty and clear of any beads of water. Unused for a little bit, you concluded.

Yeesh.

You placed all of the cups into the dishwasher, which was also dry and empty as well. Sighing, you turned on the machine and jumped out of your skin when you felt a pair of built arms wrap themselves around you tightly.

It only takes a split second for you to realize that, no, this is not some ax murderer that's about to choke the life out of you, it's just James.

James who, apparently, is holding you flush against his chest, fingers curling themselves against your bandaged abdomen. You held back a wince of pain, careful not to make your breathing waver, as James nuzzle his whole head against the crook of your neck. 

(Honestly, for someone named the Winter Soldier, he sure is warm because whew, boy-)

"Ja-"

"I thought you were gone."

His name is caught in your throat as James' voice- gritty, deep, unused- rumbles into your skin. You freeze, unsure of what to say to that as you shuddered, suddenly breathless as he mouths at your neck. Your ears turn bright red as he takes that moment to speak up, not once letting up on his fingers ghosting a trail on each muscle on your abdomen.

"You were gone. One second you were in my arms, and the next... The next, DAHLIA's tellin' me you're in a damn coma."

You winced, not sure how to respond to both what he said or the growl that accompanied it. You looked up at the camera that was in a nearby corner and threw it a withering glance, feeling slightly betrayed by DAHLIA for telling James that.

Thankfully (or probably not), James isn't really looking for a response as he continues on.

"Моя звездная пыль (My stardust)," Russian slips out, bringing a chill up your spine as bits of Winter spills out from James' fingertips, "The witch got to you, didn't she?"

Goosebumps raised on your skin, and to your silence, James snarled. You can barely feel his teeth graze on your nape, and you really don't know if you should feel embarrassed or something else.

And wow, okay, maybe you should tell James to ease up on the "hug", because holy shit, his grip's getting tighter and it's starting to actually hurt.

(Ah, he might tear the stitches.)

"HYDRA сукa...! Я убью ее...!" (HYDRA bitch...! I'll kill her...!)

You huffed, still red in the face as he hasn't even nudged away from letting you go. You patted his forearm, signaling for him to loosen up his grip, and to his credit, he does. Barely, but it was still something. 

"I dunno what ya' just said in Russian, but I know what Hydra сукa means. No cussing in Russian, only in English."

He mumbles something incoherent into your shoulder, rubbing circles into your stomach with a tantalizingly slow speed. You coughed; in literally any other situation this would be one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, but considering that James was more Winter than James right now, and your stomach is literally burning in pain from the rubbing, you opted to ignore the fact that you really liked that James was this close and spoke up.

"Not to alarm you or anything, but uh, if you keep rubbing my stomach like that," your breath hitched, the pain starting to become a little too much, "I'm gonna pass out from the pain," you said, with clenched teeth.

(End of what I had written down. Anyways, not sure where I was gonna go from here.)

Ch. 17-20 are relatively short in terms of what I had written down.

Ch. 17 (Reconditioning) has 3 things typed down:

integrating the twins, thoughts of integrating bucky

supreme distrust between you and the twins

meanwhile maybe thoughts from twins abt you? you're around their age 

3rd bullet introduces the idea that they might be love interests. Maybe. Shrugs. That chapter would be heavier on the character developments of the twins, both as their own persons and their relationship with you, specifically. They don't like you because you're Tony's son, still some bitter feelings there, and you don't like them because... Well... there's just a lot of bad feelings. They helped kill J.A.R.V.I.S. in your original timeline. Wanda basically fucked off with Vision. She antagonized Tony. (And there is a hypocrisy there since I would've written you to have done the same thing there. (Name) isn't perfect.)

You just didn't get along with Pietro since, back when he wasn't dead, you were immature and not yet accustomed to dealing with people who're purposefully frustrating/ teasing/ mocking/ etc. Nothing really personal with him, it's Wanda that you had beef with. But you'll get over it one day.

Ch. 18 (Longstanding) is shorter.

you and james have a talk, and after a year or two being solitary, you agree that he should be in the avengers

he joins the avengers

That's it, that's the chapter.

Ch. 19 (Accountability) deals with newer Accords (not a Sokovian one! Just from the proposed need for accountability).

It goes better around this time, as basically all of the Avengers agree to it, with their own caveats of course. Steve especially, but of course, he's willing to work with the governments about it this time around. Also, Peter Parker gets introduced, in accordance with the "underaged enhanced/ superheroes" clause, or some bull like that.

Ch. 20 (Wakanda) is basically the intro to CA:CW but like, civilized. No bombing since Zemo still has his family. Introduces Wakanda, and T'Challa as a potential love interest. If you're interested in IronPanther, I highly recommend reading the IronPanther Collection by Okyverlo on AO3. It's great and got me a lot of interest in T'Challa as a love interest.

As for official chapters with the plot, that's about it. I wasn't sure what to do afterward.

There were some loose ideas I had about what would happen to (Name). Maybe the truth is revealed, that you're actually from the future, and Dr. Strange separates past and future you into two separate bodies. Future! you into your original future body, and past! you into the current body. Past! you still have the same memories and thoughts that future! you had, but with less angst. Future! you is noticeably more depressed and just a bummer. Lol.

And after that, 2023! you would go back to the future where you belonged, and Past! you would stay in the present since, duh, that's still Past! you's original timeline. It's a little confusing when I type it down haha.

I was thinking maybe 2023! you would pair up with Steve since you realized how burdensome it is to continue to resent someone. Now you understood what Tony meant.

And Past! you would definitely pair up with James, but maybe Steve too. A nice lil' polygamous relationship. 

Now here's the other, non-official chapters.

2 What If's, and 3 Specials, in the order they're listed at the moment.

What If (2013 Counterpart) plays with an initial idea I had, where Past! (Name) was actually sent into the future into 2023! (Name)'s body during the prologue. Not sure where I was gonna go with this chapter, but I really wanted to mess with that possibility, and show just how immature and teenager-y Past! you were.

What If (Swapped Places) plays with the idea that you and Tony, in the original timeline, had swapped places. You were on Titan with Spiderman, Dr. Strange, and the GOTG, while Tony was on Earth with everyone else. That's all I had planned. Maybe you actually won and managed to get the gauntlet off of Thanos when you realized that Peter Quill was about to go crazy over his ex's death, and you knocked him down in time.

Special (Find My Body, Only At The Oak Tree), deals with you and your depression over the reality that you might have to relive the blip again, and aside from the Avengers, you really don't have anyone else and nothing's worth really living for at this point. I actually have a lot written for this one. Not sure if I wanted this to be canon.

Trigger warning: suicidal tendencies.

(Below is the general idea I had for the plot.)

(names) birthdays across the years so far

we see slow mental deterioration of (name) as he aches

we see as we reach closer and closer to the deadline, (name) dreads even thinking about thanos and wants to die before even looking at him, a symbol of their failure 

lowkey highkey suicidal

___

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday was in 2014. 

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday was also in 2014... Obviously. 

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday, the whole tower was flooded with people who you knew and people who you couldn't care to know. It was filled with what little was left of your friend group outside of the Avengers; it was also filled with the rich, the pompous, the irritating of New York.

You got into a yelling match with your dad that night, over something you couldn't even bother to remember, and stormed off into your room, fuming as the party still went on without their birthday boy present.

(It's always like that as if you're replaceable. Surely, you must be; the Avengers can and will, if need be, exist without you.)

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday, you told your dad you wanted it to be small and personal. Only the Avengers were there, as a few days ago did you spend a pre-birthday celebration with some of your high school 'friends' (which only mainly consisted of playing Smash Bros Brawl in your room and eating an ungodly amount of junk food as you fake laughed along with their shitty jokes.) (Steve promptly made you burn those calories off in training.).

(What Steve doesn't know is that you purposefully ate that much to train with him; otherwise, you had the whole day off the next day.

You didn't want to be alone.)

It was sweet as everyone gave their gifts to you (which you already knew what it was, but said nothing of it), and as everyone got drunk off of the expensive liquor or Asgardian mead, you quietly snuck out of the building and back into the safe house where James was waiting for you.

(He waits, but how much of it is because he has no other choice?

It is not like that, you keep reminding yourself.

Who is to say, other than you?

James never says anything of it, and you start to wonder if he feels as if he has no choice.

As if he feels like he's been made another prisoner, once again.

At what point, what is separating the distinction between you and HYDRA, in his mind?

You're not too keen on finding out the answer anytime soon.)

The whole way there, you thought of nothing in particular.

You quietly celebrated with him too, shared a few slices of cake he made just for you before you quietly said goodnight to him. He kissed you on the cheek, said a simple goodnight, and slipped away into his own bedroom.

Meanwhile, you spent the rest of the night drinking too much alcohol, alone, in the dark of your room, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular.

The next morning, you jokingly wished you had just died last night as you're bent over the toilet emptying your stomach contents.

___

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you spent it outside in another country with your friends.

The second time you celebrated your 18th birthday party, you rented out a bumper kart arena with the Avengers.

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you tried desperately to hang onto the remaining friends you had outside of the Avengers, a chance to feel normal for once. You practically went hiking across Europe and into Asia over the week of your birthday, and by God did you visit so many places. From the Louvre to the casinos in New Deli, you trekked everywhere with your friends and acted as a cash pig for their endeavors under the guise of celebrating your birthday. Least to say, you always got 'accidentally' blackout drunk on multiple occasions, oblivious to their actions.

Later you found out and cut them off instantly without another word. They didn't seem to notice that you stopped talking to them.

It hurt.

Pointless of you to try to maintain that friendship.

So on your next 18th birthday, having long forgone those friendships ages ago, you suggested going bumper karting with the Avengers. Bruce operated as the 'coach' of sorts, but he seemed to have enjoyed it as well. 

It was fun, obviously.

It went on for a few hours, as you all had made up mini-games to play along with as they got bored of chasing after each other aimlessly for half an hour. A few games had you pairing up with some of the Avengers; the other had them actually using their skills to try to maim each other.

(Wanda at one point lifted everyone into the air as Pietro zoomed through the rink; though, he did slip and slam into the wall. Everyone laughed, but it was interrupted as Wanda promptly dropped everyone out of shock.

Everyone was too busy in their own shock as well to notice your labored breathes, wild crazed eyes, or how you clawed viciously at your throat at the sight of Wanda's red wisps. Your fingers were tinted a sick vermilion.

Thankfully, the arena was relatively dim, so no one could tell what just happened.)

It was fun. Everyone didn't hold their shoves back, and when things riled up, it turned into who would break a bone first. No one did, but everyone was definitely sore afterward. Of course, the enhanced ones didn't limp as much, but it made your limp nothing out of the ordinary.

(You tried your most damn not to just collapse completely, both exhaustion and pain threatening to snap your spine into little bits and pieces.

You jokingly wished it did.)

Thankfully, during the whole ordeal, no one noticed how you didn't avoid obvious hits, instead opting to just get harshly jostled in your kart and neck snapped haphazardly to the side at the sudden jolt. Or how you 'accidentally' keep forgetting to put on your seat belt or keep your fingers inside the kart.

Or at least, if they noticed, no one said anything as you limped around the tower the next day, bruises marred everywhere on your skin, a sheen of sweat blanketed on your skin throughout the whole day.

___

The first time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you were too swamped with both college and SI to actually... Celebrate.

You didn't even realize it was your birthday. No one did, actually; it took one of your professors to comment on how your name was trending on Twitter to actually get you to realize what the day was.

But even that didn't change your schedule, and as you moved on with your day, so did Twitter and the Avengers. 

You never got to celebrate your 19th birthday, too swamped with other things to care.

The second time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you had too much free time in the world.

It ended up being just like your 17th. The Avengers had a little get-together (they remembered this time; what made it so different?) and all of them got drunk wildly off their asses. Once again, you slipped away from the main lounge, and stalked silently, blank-faced, towards a balcony.

You adjusted your collar appropriately and stood there. You stared outside into the bustling busy streets of New York, the city that never sleeps.

(Strange, that it's named that when often times it's the quietest whenever you're there to see it.)

You spend maybe 10 minutes standing there, staring into the oblivion that is New York.

And then, you climbed onto the railings.

Standing there, there was no rush of adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins, nor was there any fear or dread.

Only an overwhelming and crippling exhaustion that made waves through your body. No longer are you in your 19-year-old body, but your 27th. No longer are you in your younger, former self; one that shone brightly above the others, aspiring as both a heroic figure and one that would help pave the way towards a better, peaceful world.

No, instead, your soul feels like it's settled deep into your bones, an aching tire that keeps rocking and rattling at your already fractured, beaten down body, laughing at how pathetic you look.

(You're so tired.

You just wanted to live normally.

You never can, you eventually come to realize on your first 24th birthday.

That thought, now fully realized, would come to permeate it's way deep into your bones.)

All you wanted to do was to just take one step forward, off of the railing that you're so delicately balanced upon, and dive into air headfirst.

Really, all it takes is just one step.

And truly, you've never felt more at peace as your body dropped from the railings, descended quickly towards the streets below you.

What should've been a quick few seconds of a dive felt like an eternity drowning in a bottomless pool. The lights of New York flashed and beamed at you, but it changed rapidly from one to another. Your throat closes, shuttering, and you want so desperately to start screaming.

Only, no one would hear them. 

The winds would carry away your screams, rushing a sound of its own that would overpower yours.

You wonder, absently, was this similar to what Rhodey felt that day? 

Well.

You'd never really find out, now, will you?

Too late to ask.

(There's no way to get back home.

You can never see Morgan again- the Morgan that called you her big Care Bear, the Morgan that cried and threw a temper tantrum because you forgot to give her a goodnight kiss. 

You can never see mom and dad again- while they're still here, it's just not the same. You'll never get to see the same Pepper who was so relieved just to see you alive after the Battle of Wakanda, even if you were practically on your death bed. You'll never get to see the same Tony who you spent hours crying into the shoulder of after the Blip.

You can never see the same Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, anyone, ever again. 

Years spent just trying to be better, to help the world, to mend and build any relationships you could, gone.

And even if they weren't?

There's just no way to get back home anymore. Not back to the person you used to be.)

The next day, you got an earful from your parents when photos of your falling body appear all over the internet. All the meanwhile, you're not really listening to them, just staring right back at them.

Odd.

('When did you start looking at me with contempt?', you'd ask one day.

Tony just stares at you, then out the window. In his hand, he's holding a cup of coffee; in yours, water. You've since stopped drinking anything remotely sugary, caffeinated, or alcoholic, though you've never told anyone why.

'When did you start mistaking concern with contempt.', he responded, though it was more of a statement rather than a question.

You stared at him, then followed his gaze out the window. 

Neither of you says anything, even as the hours go by in the blink of an eye.)

(That's all I had written down so far. Not sure where I wanted to go with this afterwards.)

Special (Vapidity, Testament To Absence) deals with future DAHLIA realizing what it means to mourn someone.

The house is empty.

It is an irrelevant thought, DAHLIA notes.

Technically speaking, the house has been empty quite often than not; after all, you were a busy man with an equally busy schedule. Being the CEO of SI and a huge contributing factor to the world's rebuilding made it more or less impossible for you to stay at home for long. Though, she also doesn't linger long in the house, either. But she's still there regardless, even if she's also with you on the other side of the planet for diplomatic reasons.

She knows of the emptiness inside this house; it was never an unfamiliar concept.

But with this emptiness, she's never once associated loneliness with it either. 

It's a bit better when Virginia occasionally comes around to the house to do some maintenance. She might even bring along little Morgan with her.

("You keep saying she's a pest, but I know I sure as hell ain't the one that keeps shifting the TV to the kids' channels when she's around," you comment, not even taking your eyes off of the pan. DAHLIA says nothing towards your accusations, instead opting to tell you that you're burning your eggs.

You aren't, but she says nothing amidst your panic.)

A few others occasionally visit, too, much to DAHLIA's internal disapproval.

Rogers used to visit every day ever since she first noted the emptiness. His behavior was also peculiar. He'd prowl around the house, pausing here and there at random parts of the house. He'd often just... Stand there, seemingly looking at nothing for a long period, before jolting back and continue what he was doing. She's thankful that he hasn't noted her silence when he's around.

Often Banner would come along too, and he'd be talking quietly with Rogers. As of recently, they've stopped visiting though. Probably because of the recent news (that (Name) might still be alive, just lost in time), DAHLIA almost bitterly notes.

James ("Just call him Rhodey- literally no one calls him James nowadays." you laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement) visits too. He doesn't linger for long, but he makes sure to check up on DAHLIA, help tend to the flowers... She'd even dare say she wishes he'd visit more often.

Peter also visits here and there as well. He often comes with Morgan and Virginia, but there have been a few occasions where he's come here by himself. He'd spend most of his time in the garden, your favorite place. And when he's alone, she'd given him privacy out of respect, but even at a long distance, she can hear him talking by himself. He'd come back eyes red and swollen, but he's always smiling afterward.

A few others have visited too, but not as often as the others. Though, none of that really helps negate the emptiness she feels as she wordlessly navigates through a routine she devoted herself to after your disappearance.

And the final chapter, Special (Chemically Compromised) is basically a fluff filler with (Name) chaperoning Peter's field trip, inspired by an Instagram post.

Written in bits and pieces, unfinished. Not sure if I wanted it to be romantic (the name implies it in a nerdy way) or just a fun, platonic, "dude you're literally embarrassing me" way.

(Peter) "I can't believe you're doing this...!"

(Name) "What? What's wrong with this?"

Pan to (Name) dressing like he's a Typical, Normal Civilian Man, but it's clearly (Name) Stark, son of Tony Stark, and an Avenger.

(Peter) "I don't need you to chaperone my field trip...! May could've done this-"

(Name) "No, she really couldn't, sweetheart. She's got a busy shift, and even told me that no one else's parents was free."

(Name) "Listen- this really could have gone worse if, say, Tony, knew. God knows Tony would've dropped everythin' and just embarrass ya- he did that shit to me every chance he got," Peter winces, almost forgetting that Tony was still your dad, and a chill ran up his spine as he imagined what it would have been like for you. 

(Peter) "But still..."

(Name) "Don't worry, I'll just wear a cap and sunglasses."

(Peter) "That can't possibly work."

(Name) "You'd be surprised- Sam's standin' down there, right near that phone booth."

Peter's head snapped over to where you were pointing at, and indeed, right on the floors of the Manhattan streets, there was a relatively built black guy that's wearing a cap, sunglasses, and a brown leather jacket. Peter tilted his head.

He hasn't been around Sam all that much, but he still knows what the Avenger looked like. But even then, he wasn't sure if that man was actually Sam. He's built right, but Peter can't see much of his hair or eyes. Plus, he's kind of far away.

He squinted at the man, before glancing back at you, now unsure of himself.

(Peter) "That's really the Falcon?"

You stared at him, before snorting.

(Name) "Nah, I'm joshin' ya, that's just some random guy...", you glance at the man, sniffing, "... Probably."

That's... pretty much it. That's all I had for Restart, as far as writing goes.

Now here are some closing thoughts, just to wrap all of this up nice and tight, sort of.

I'm not really happy with how the initial chapters were paced and how they were written. My writing style has mildly changed, and if I had the motivation to, I'd love to rewrite them. But alas, I don't.

I think about this story often; or at least, variations of it. It's like when you daydream, and you restart it but to the left. But unfortunately, writing a plot without too many plot holes while remaining as canonically correct as possible, and making it interesting without being a complete word-by-word remake of the movies, is difficult.

I'm not sure if I would ever pick up this story again, especially since this whole chapter told you what I had in store anyways. 

Thank you to those who took the time out of their day to write nice and encouraging comments about this story. It's unfortunate it had to end this way, but I'm glad it happened anyways. And hopefully, it's the same for you.

And remember: the one thing writers love to do is talk about their story! If you have any other comments, questions, or just general thoughts about the story, I'd love to discuss it further!

Anyways. If you're reading this now, thanks for sticking with Restart for as long as you did.

_____

Masterlist

_____

I know I had people on the tagged list, but it’s a bit hard to get them all as URL’s change, so I opted not to. Sorry!

[sergeantsporks]

Do You Want the Knife You Left in My Back, or Can I Keep It?

Rating: Teen and up, Gen

An injured Hunter wanders into Hexside. What was Luz supposed to do, just let him bleed out on the floor?

Ch 5/6

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

Ao3

Luz turned the cursed knife over and over in her hands. Viney had given it to her, joking about how her teachers were getting a little bit worried about why she had it. It was so small, but it had caused so much damage and pain.

“Hey, Luz, what do you have?” Eda asked, peering over her shoulder.

Luz felt the tiniest of grins creep over her face. “A KNIFE!” she yelled.

“NO!” King yelled back from the other room.

Eda plucked the knife out of her hands. “No weapons for you until you stop corrupting King with your human realm culture.” She squinted at the knife, peering at the runes on the hilt. “Oh, that’s a nasty one. Is this…”

“The one Kikimora used,” Luz said softly, “Yeah. I’m… not sure exactly what to do with it.”

“Give it to the golden nerd,” Eda joked, “Let him stab Kikimora back.”

Luz snatched the knife back. “Yeeeeaah, I don’t think that’s the greatest idea, Eda. Do you mind if I keep it with the other weapons?”

“Knock yourself out, kid.”

Luz set the knife carefully on top of a cabinet. What a nightmare. Who was even in the business of making weapons like that? She heard a groan from the other room, and she darted out into the living room. Hunter was awake, and had apparently just discovered that he couldn’t move.

“Hey! You’re up! And not fever-ish! How are you feeling?”

He buried his face in the couch again. “Ow.”

“Yeah, Viney said you’d be really sore. But hey, you’re not dying anymore, and you’re finally pretty conscious. So…” Luz pulled him up, shaking him. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!”

“Ow. Ow. Owowowowow, Luz! I can’t—”

“Move, I know, which is why we’re having this conversation now! Before you can wriggle out of it! Why would you leave the house?! Were you trying to run away? Kikimora was out there! You were barely even conscious when I left! She almost killed you!”

“I know. I knew she was out there, I knew she was setting up a trap, I just…”

“You just WHAT?! What could she have POSSIBLY said or done that made you stumble out of here, half-dead?!”

Hunter’s ears burned red, and he mumbled something she couldn’t quite hear.

“What?”

“She said she’d kill you,” he said louder, “She said she’d kill you, and I staggered out of here like a great big idiot in shining armor. I don’t know why I bothered.”

Luz’s mouth opened and shut a few times as she struggled to find words. She let Hunter’s shirt-front go, and he sank back onto the couch, wincing. “Oh,” she said finally, “Were you… going to trade yourself for me?”

He snorted. “Fat chance.”

“Hey!”

“What?! Trade my freedom for your life?! That’s the dumbest trap in the book, she’d just kill both of us! Who would fall for that?”

Luz felt her own face flush. “It’s not THAT stupid! Sometimes you don’t have much of a choice!” She flopped down to the floor. “What exactly was the plan, then?

“Easy,” he said simply, “I was going to rescue you.”

It was Luz’s turn to snort. “Wow, I never could have predicted that going wrong.”

His ears turned red again. “Hey! I can take Kikimora—I’ve done it before!”

“Yeah, when she was punch-drunk on sleeping nettles and you had a staff! Not when you were half-dead from being stabbed and feverish!”

“If you must know,” he sniffed, “I was planning on sneaking past her, not confronting her directly!”

“Awwww, well, I’m very flattered. Even if I was never actually captured. Thank you very much.”

He looked away. “Whatever. I just figured I probably should help. Since you saved my life and everything.”

Luz kicked the couch. “Admit it. You were worried about me.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was worried you’d annoy Kikimora to death.”

“You weeeeereeeee. You were totally worried. We’re friends now.”

“You’re not my friend. Shut up.”

“I am. I am worming my way into your heart.”

“Yeah, a bile leech can do that, too, you’re not special.”

“A what?! Ewwww, never mind, don’t tell me.” Luz kicked the couch again. “Whatever. Keep being a grump, I’m not giving up on you.”

Xxx

Hunter watched Luz race up the stairs. His palisman fluttered down onto his shoulder, chirruping reassuringly.

“Don’t you start,” Hunter grumbled, “I can’t be friends with her! She’s the enemy!”

Another low chirp.

“Yeah, I KNOW technically you’re the enemy, too, but you’re an EXCEPTION to wild magic being dangerous. She’s like. Public enemy number one.”

“Wild magic isn’t dangerous,” Eda commented as she came through. She stopped, looking down at him. “I… heard what you said. About wanting to save Luz. Kid, why didn’t you come to me? You could have died out there! You nearly did!”

Hunter felt his ears start to burn again. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I? I had a sister in the coven, and I saw how she turned out, so let me take a guess; you thought it was something you had to do on your own. You thought that if you accepted help, that made you weak. You thought that you’d made a horrible mess of everything, and you were scared that if you didn’t clean it up before the person in charge—me—found out, you’d be in trouble. Am I close?”

“No. I’m not scared of you.”

“Why you little—” Eda took a deep breath. “Shut up and listen, I’m trying to talk you through your trauma.”

“I don’t have any trauma.”

Eda found that incredibly hilarious for some reason, nearly bent double from laughing. “Oh… yeah, okay, kid. Sure. Alright, you’re not scared of me.” She looked him dead in the eye. “But are you scared of Belos?”

“No,” Hunter said automatically, “I’m loyal to Belos—there’s no reason to be scared of him.” Titan, he hated how his voice wavered. He wasn’t scared of Uncle Belos—he wasn’t. He just… didn’t want to disappoint him. As long as he did what he was asked, everything was fine.

Eda sighed, sitting down next to him and looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say. Look. Kid. If. You ever feel like you’re not safe in the keep. Or. I don’t know. You just finally figure out that Belos is not a good guy. If you don’t want to stay there anymore. I—guess—hrk—okay—Hngh—I guuuuuuess I wouldn’t mind. Too much. If you… came here?”

“What?!” Hunter yelped

Eda jumped up. “What?! I didn’t say anything, did you say something? Whatever, bye!” She summoned her staff and flew out the door before he could respond.

The palisman still nestling on his head warbled at him reproachfully.

“What? I can’t stay here! And I’m not going to leave the palace! So it doesn’t matter if she’d let me stay here or not!” He tried to get up, but his muscles were too stiff, and he gave up, instead flopping backwards onto the couch cushions, his palisman forced to flutter off of his shoulder and land on his head instead. “Ow. I just… want to go back home. Where it’s not confusing. Where I know what people want me to do—where I know how they want me to act.”

Still.

It was nice that she’d offered.

Xxx

“Ow!”

Luz dabbed at the stitched-up cut with the disinfectant Viney had left behind. “Quit being such a baby! You want to get another raging fever?”

“It would probably hurt less!”

“Scream into the pillows,” Hooty advised, sticking his face right in Hunter’s, “It’ll help!”

Hunter let out a strangled yelp.

“Hooooty!” Luz protested.

Hooty flopped down in front of the couch. “Lulu was in the emperor’s coven, and we’re the beeeeeeest of friends. I think the emperor’s coven is actually full of people who just want friends!”

“Hunter,” Luz said, wrinkling her nose at him, “Doesn’t want to be friends.”

“He can be my friend!”

Hunter screamed into the couch cushions.

Luz poked him in the ribs. “Hey, that was just rude.”

“If I could move, I’d tie your bird-worm into a bow,” he growled.

“But you caaaaaaan’t,” Hooty sing-songed.

Luz pushed at Hooty’s face. “Alright, alright, get out of here, give him some space.” She finished cleaning the stab wound and taped a fresh bandage to it. Hunter didn’t react, not even to complain about the sting, and she knelt down next to him, nudging his shoulder. “Hey. You okay?”

“Everything is so… complicated here.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what anyone wants me to do!”

“Hunter, we don’t want you to do anything. I didn’t bring you here because I want something from you, I brought you here because it was the right thing to do.”

He groaned. “You don’t get it, of course you want something from me, everyone wants something from everyone, but I can’t figure out what it is you want me to do here! You keep saying I don’t have to do anything, and that this isn’t business, but—”

“Hunter. Hunter. Look at me. Look at my face.”

He turned his head with a wince, and she helped him sit up, squishing his cheeks between her hands and forcing him to look her in the eye. “I don’t want anything from you. Not one single thing. Neither does Eda, neither does Hooty. Got it?”

“But—”

Luz squished his face harder, cutting off his words. “No buts! Nothing! No ulterior motives! We are not Belos, we are not Kikimora. You don’t have to give us anything. I want to be your friend, Hunter, a real friend. Gus and Willow and Amity drop everything to help me, and they never expect me to do anything back. I’d do the same for them. And I’m trying to do the same for you.” She let go of his face. “Okay?”

He bit his lip, looking just about the most lost she’d ever seen him. “Mmmmmmmmmm…”

Luz sighed. “Right. Can’t change an entire life philosophy in a day, I guess. Okay, uhhhh...” she spotted King eyeing Hunter with narrowed eyes that she knew meant he was about to pounce. “…King wants to use your lap as a nap spot. You can’t really move around anyway, so…?”

Hunter almost immediately brightened. “I can do that.”

King almost immediately catapulted onto Hunter’s lap, curling up. “Ha. You tried to lock me in a cage. Now I am the ruler! I hold the power, here, and you are in a cage of my making!”

Hunter glanced down at demon in his lap. “He… doesn’t have worms, does he?”

“Hey! King is worm-free, thanks very much!” Luz leaned in closer. “But between you and me, you might want to watch out for fleas,” she murmured.

“That—that was a joke, right?”

Luz straightened up, running for the door. “Okay, have fun, you two, I’m off to school!”

“Luz! Tell me it was a joke!”

Ch 6

[jisungsplatforms]

Sunflower

Pairing: Lee Felix x gn! reader

Genre: angst, fluff; Hanahaki au, college au, non idol au, (mutual) pining

Warnings: language, tiny tiny spoilers & allusions to some of my other fics if you squint hard enough. Some elements of Seungmin x reader (platonic), passing out in school, idk what else really, i guess getting caught making out by a doctor?

Note: this does NOT portray Stray Kids’ true personalities. This is all purely FICTIONAL

(Page III)

Sunflower:

“Tall, cheery flowers that symbolizes

adoration, loyalty and longevity

These charming beauties are know for being the “happiest” flowers in the world.”

Lee Felix.

If anyone could describe the guy, they’d say he’s sweet, bubbly, cute, fun, laid back. The type of guy who’d treat you like you’re royalty, but won’t hesitate to scold you if necessary. The guy you’d rely on when you need a shoulder to cry on. The guy who’d go through the ends of the earth to make you happy. The guy who could light up a building with just his smile.

But to you. You would describe him as:

The stunningly beautiful man who sits beside you in class every single day whom you’ve had a crush on for the past two years, whose presence always makes your day when you see him and would kill to be the reason of his insanely cute smiles and want nothing more than for him to be yours and vise versa.

Okay, yeah, a little lengthy, but you get the jist.

You sighed, turning to face the window a table away from you. Outside, you can already see the field of flowers nearby the classroom (courtesy of the environmentalist club at your school). Looking at the sea of colorful beauties always made you feel at peace inside, especially the tall sunflowers that had its own little field that you absolutely adored.

“Hey, Y/n?”

Speaking of sunflowers.

You turned your head to look straight into Felix’s glimmering doe eyes. You felt your heartbeat race when he gave you an adorably tiny grin.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask, and your answer, by the way, will affect our friendship okay?” he trailed off, putting his phone down beside him. Your eyes widened at his choice of words. Is this it? This is it. OMG. THE Lee Felix is asking me out on a date! you thought giddily, already planning out your “date” in your head. “This is a question I’ve wanted to ask you for a while so,” Felix let out a little sigh, making your heart pound in anticipation, before continuing, “are you a pineapple pizza hater?”

...What?

Your shoulders were slumped in disappointment but was quickly replaced in confusion once you let your mind dwell on the question he asked you. “Huh? What? How does this affect our friendship?”

“Come on, just answer! I gotta know!”

You huffed out a small giggle, turning to face him even more. But before you could reply to his silliness, the bell rang.

“Oh! Wait, nevermind, looks like I gotta go now, Y,n,” he said as he packed his stuff into his bag. “I needa run home first then meet up with you and Seungmin later. I’ll see you then, yeah? Just answer my question later.”

“Uh...Yup! We’ll talk more later,” you said, starting to pack up your own things, “See you!”

“Bye bye!” Felix gave you a cute smile as he waved goodbye.

“I’m pathetic.”

You let out a despondent sigh, your body hunched over the coffee shop’s table while Seungmin quietly consoled you as he pitifully strokes your back.

“I mean, granted, you wouldn’t be so mopey if you, i don’t know, ask him out instead?” he said, not even looking up from his phone. You shot your head up to look at him in disbelief.

“And risk ruining my friendship with the greatest person who has ever lived? No thank you.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes and finally looked at you. “Don’t be so dramatic, you big baby. It won’t be the end of the world if you rejects your offer.”

You snarled at him. “Maybe not YOUR world, mine, however, would literally be decimated into little particles of dust, Seungmin dear.” You smacked your forehead back down to the table after your little personal dramatic monologue.

He shook his head in disapproval, clicking his tongue. “Sheesh. Drama queen,” he muttered to himself.

“I heard that, you jerk.”

“Good. ‘Cause it’s true. You need to suck it up and ask the ‘love of your life’ out on a date or so help me, I will drive you both to the middle of nowhere so you can sort out your feelings for each other.”

You moved your head again to face him with a pout. “And you say I’m the drama queen.” Seungmin only huffed in annoyance.

“Do something about it, or I will, Y/n. I’m serious!”

“Okay! Okay!” you said defeatedly. “I’ll get to it. Don’t worry.”

“You better,” he said, sternly, pointing his finger at you like how a mother would scold their child. His next sentence, though, you couldn’t quite catch. “I’m sick and tired of counseling you both like love sick puppies.”

You sigh for the umpteenth time today, slumping on your chair. The dainty bell handing on the entrance jingled, indicating a new customer. From your right, you could hear a cute but deep giggle. Then felt warm hands on each of your shoulders

“Aww, why’s my little cutie so pouty now?”

You did a literal double take hearing Felix call you ‘cute’, face heating up as you looked up at him. Seungmin gave you both the look before composing himself.

“What took you so long, Lix?” Seungmin questioned the blond. Felix pulled out a chair beside you to sit.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, rubbing his nape, “Had to help mum out with something. It’s nothing bad though, don’t worry about it.”

“Hmm. If you say so,” you replied, “Let’s just work on some assignments, yeah?”

Several hours later, it was starting to get dark, so the three of you called it a night. You all gathered up your things as you talked.

“Oh, by the way, I might not be able to meet up with you guys tomorrow,” Seungmin announced. “Might be busy. Just to let you know.”

Felix was the first to reply. “Mhmm, that’s fine. We’ll just see you at school.”

“Yup.”

The three of you left the coffee shop, giving each other a quick ‘goodbye’. You and Felix walk in the same direction while Seungmin goes the opposite way. The two of you walked in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company. You hummed a little tune amidst your walk home. You didn’t notice the adoring smile Felix was giving you.

“You have a beautiful voice,” he whispered. You glanced at him before turning your head down, feeling yourself get flustered.

“Thank you,” you responded, “you know, you have quite a beautiful voice too, Lix.”

Felix could feel the butterflies swarming in his stomach at your compliment. “No, no. It’s not the best, but thank you!”

You turned your head to face him again, a little shocked that he would doubt himself. “You serious? Dude, you have like this rich, deep ass voice when you talk but when you sing? It's like...”

Felix waited for you to find the right words to describe him.

“... I don’t really know how to describe it with just words but it's the best thing I’ve ever heard with my own ears! It’s like being blessed by god himself when I hear you. I could lose myself just listening to you sing.”

He was taken aback. Singing was something he was shy about, so hearing how much you love his own made his heart flutter. He smiled so widely, his eyes turned into little crescents.

“Thank you, Y/n,” Felix giggled. Hearing that, you felt yourself get embarrassed, realizing how you got a little carried away.

“You’re welcome.”

You didn’t even notice that you were already at your house. Dejectedly, you turned to bid Felix goodbye, even though you didn’t want to.

“Bye, Y/n! See you in our ‘date’ tomorrow!” he laughed half-jokingly. Only then did you realize that it was just going to be you and Felix tomorrow. You froze, a little panicked.

“Uh- yeah! See ya’!” you said hurriedly, making a beeline to the inside of your house. Once you made it to the door, you turned your body in a 60° angle to wave goodbye, to which he returned. You stumbled with your keys for a while before finally unlocking the door. You swear you could hear Felix chuckling at your blunder. You gave him an awkward smile before slamming the door shut.

You threw your bag onto the floor, sighing as you slid down the door. You held your forehead in embarrassment. “What is wrong with me?”

It was now after your last class for the day. You made your way to the coffee shop you, Seungmin, and Felixi usually go to do homework. You were beyond nervous. It was just going to be you and Felix, aka the love of your life, on a little table together for the next 3-4 hours.

Damn you, Seungmin, you cursed inwardly.

Speaking of Seungmin, you could see his figure two stores down from where you were supposed to meet up. You hurriedly jogged up to him to talk.

“Hey, Min! Kim Seungmin!”

He turned around at the sound of your voice.

“Hi, Y/n,” he greeted, “aren’t you supposed to be with Lix right now?”

“I’m on my way there now.” Looking at his hands, you noticed the small bouquet of Chrysanthemums in them. “Ooh...Who’s that for?” you asked like the nosy person you are.

Seungmin glanced down before looking at you a little awkwardly. “It’s, uhm, for my dead friend.”

You widen your eyes in shock. “Oh my gosh. I am so sorry!”

“No, no. It’s fine. You didn’t know. It’s okay, really!”

“I still feel bad though...”

“Hey. I told you, it’s okay. It’s no big deal.”

You hummed awkwardly, not knowing what to say other than apologizing. Somewhere in your mind, you really wanted to ask what happened to his friend, but decided not to in fear of offending him in any way. However, Seungmin seemed to read you. “Hey, Y/n, have you heard of the Hanahaki Disease?”

You looked in confusion. “Hantahapki? What’s that?”

“Hanahaki. It’s this disease you get from unrequited love that makes you cough a crap ton of flowers until you die.”

“Ohh man. That sounds terrible.”

“It is. That’s actually how my, uh, friend died.”

“Oh, Seungmin…”

Seeing your closest friend so upset made your heart ache. You stepped closer to him, being mindful of the bouquet, to give him a hug. Seungmin sighed in content, returning the hug. “Thanks. I need that,” he said quickly, burying his face to your shoulder.

“Of course, Min. You’re always there for me, let me return the favor, even if it’s just a hug.” You could feel Seungmin tightening his hold on you. He whispered a quiet “thank you” before letting go.

“Now go to your date with lover boy,” he said, smiling, “don’t keep him waiting. Nevermind me.”

You chuckled as well, waving goodbye. “Yeah, yeah. Bye, Seung!”

You walked a couple more steps til you arrived at your destination. Inside, you could already see Felix inside on his phone. You stepped inside, greeting the barista as you went in, walking to where Felix was. You dropped your bag in front of him, startling him a little.

“Hey,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey,” He gave you a sweet smile.

You slid inside your side of the booth and got started on your work. For the first two hours, the two of you talked and talked. At one point, Felix mentioned the sunflowers that you both always see outside the window of your only shared class. Your eyes lit up.

“Oh my god. I LOVE them so much!” you gushed. “They’re so lovely and bright and tall too, like how the heck are they so tall? Honestly, how could you not love sunflowers!” Remembering a small little trivia about them, you beamed. “Did you know that sunflowers are known as the happiest flowers in the world? That’s why they’re the perfect gifts to give to friends!”

“Ohh really now?” Felix chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“Man, I have to thank my friend for convincing her club’s president to plant them! Seeing them everyday is, like, the one of the only reasons why I come to class everyday.”

He giggled at the dreamy look on your face. “I really like you, Y/n,” he said adoringly. “You should see how cute you look right now.”

Your heart swelled in delight. You were in such a shock, you didn’t know how to react. Your palms felt sweaty on your lap. However, your glee was shattered into a million pieces by his next sentence.

“I’m so glad to have you as a friend!” Felix adds.

A friend. What a terrible title it was.

Even though you were heartbroken to the core, you still didn’t show it on your face. Instead, you gave him the biggest, yet fakest, smile you could muster, ignoring the heaviness in your chest.

“I’m glad that we’re friends too, Felix,” you lied, voice nearly cracking at the word ‘friends’. Felix gave you a small smile before going back on his phone. In that moment, you really wished you didn’t see the familiar name that plagued his notifications. You could hear the keys on his phone clicking as he texted someone in the background, but that could be barely heard over the sound of your heart shattering.

If someone could hear your thoughts, they would say that you were being over dramatic, but you would beg to differ. Felix was the first guy you’ve ever had a crush on. Sure, you’ve found people attractive before, but no one has ever made your heart flutter the way this sweetheart of a man does. In the middle of your thoughts, Felix called out your name.

“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?”

“Hm, wha-?” you said, kind of in a daze.

“Sorry, I have to cut our session short. Something kinda came up.”

“Oh...Oh sorry. Uh, go ahead, I’ll just stay behind to work on a little more work.”

“You sure?” he looked at you worryingly. He tried reaching over to touch your hand, but you dodged it stealthily. Your hands swiftly went back to your laptop to type.

“Yeah. It’s okay. Go for it.”

His worried stare lingered a little longer than expected before he slowly packed his things. “Thanks,” he murmured. He slid out of his booth once he was finished, grabbing his phone on the table. “Bye, Y/n,” he said quietly with a strained smile, one you didn’t notice since you were trying your best to not look at him in fear of breaking down.

“Bye,” you said, flatly. You listened to his footsteps get quieter as he left the shop. Only when you heard the bell on the door jingle, indicating that he left, did you let out your emotions. You smacked your head onto the table and let your tears fall. Pathetic, so pathetic, you thought. You tried your best to cry silently, out of respect for the other customers in the shop and your dignity. It was a little embarrassing that you were crying in a public area, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be care about it.

The pressure in your chest was getting heavier and heavier. Thinking it was just a mere cough wanting to make its way out of your esophagus, you let yourself do so, angling your head away from the outside. The pressure, however, was heavier than you expected, so you continued hacking your lungs out. Forcing yourself to stop, you slowly lifted your head to drink your water to relieve your now sore throat. Through blurry eyes, you could see several yellow petals underneath you.

Are those...sunflower petals? you panicked, seeing how there weren’t any sunflowers, real or fake, in the coffee shop. Your eyes widened when you remembered your conversation with Seungmin a few hours ago.

Shit…

“What do you mean you got the Hanahaki Disease?!” Seungmin exclaimed. He stared with eyes so wide, you were afraid that they might pop out of his sockets. You almost wanted to laugh hearing him so surprised if the situation wasn’t so grim. You fiddled with your fingers, nervous to meet your other friend’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked to see Seungmin’s horrified expression.

“I-I don’t know how! It just- I just started coughing out sunflower petals after he told me how happy he was that we are friends!”

Seungmin’s look of shock instantly changed into one of pity. “Oh...So he rejected you, huh?”

You nodded slowly, mumbling, “Yeah. Indirectly...” Seungmin hummed sadly, scooting closer to you to side hug you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he murmured, rubbing your arm. You leaned your head onto his shoulder, pouting. “But, maybe you still have a chance? You did say indirectly so maybe he still doesn’t know that you like him and might change his answer.”

“Yeah, sure. As if the sunflower petals coming out of my mouth isn’t a clear indication of Felix not returning my feelings isn’t obvious enough.”

“Hey! Anything could happen!”

“I guess...I just...I don’t know. I can’t really think straight right now,” you groaned, moving your head from Seungmin’s shoulder to his lap. He leans back onto the couch, relaxing his back against his couch.

“I told you, Y/n. Anything could happen. It won’t hurt to try, right?” he said, patting your head.

“I guess,” you pouted, sighing as you closed your eyes to relax. “Love sucks, doesn’t it, Min?”

Seungmin laughed through his nose, a tiny grin playing on his lips. “I wouldn’t say it sucks, per say, but yeah. It’s hard, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes I wish that I can’t love anymore, you know? So I don’t have to go through the pain of heartbreak ever again,” you paused before continuing. “I’ve done a little research before you came but, it said that I can actually achieve that if I surgically remove the disease from me.”

The room stayed quiet for a while before you continued. “Maybe... I should do it.” Even through closed eyes, you could tell Seungmin was taken aback by your words. He stopped rubbing your head, his whole body stiff. “Min?” you whispered, opening your eyes to see the look of disappointment on his face.

“Don’t say that, Y/n. Ever,” he sighed as he sat up on the couch, urging you to sit up too. “I know you’re hurting. Trust me. I’ve been through it too. But this isn’t something you should decide on the whim.”

He grabbed your shoulders, a little tighter than anticipated. “Talk to Lix first before you make your final decision. Don’t make this one of the things that you’ll end up regretting.”

You look down, biting your lip to control the frown that was threatening to show. You knew, deep down, that he said this as your friend; as someone who wants the best for you, but your emotionally unstable mind warped it to say otherwise. You rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue. “What do you know? You’ve never been in love before.”

Seungmin’s eyes widened. He was upset that you’d say such a thing to him. Being the rational person he is, he knew that you just said that out of despair, but it still hurt him nonetheless. He let go of your shoulders, moving them to his lap instead. Looking up to see his sad face was the exact moment you realized you messed up.

“Min, I-”

He cut you off by standing up, brushing off your hand that was about to touch his arm. Silently, he walked out of the living room, grabbing his coat.

You felt a wave of panic within your body. “Hey, Seungmin! I’m sorry! I didn’t-”

“You didn’t mean it, I know, Y/n,” he replied coldly, his back still facing you. “I know you’re just upset right now, and I forgive you for that.”

Seungmin sighed, turning only his face to look at you. “But that doesn’t give you any right to be rude to me, to any one, actually. I just wanted you to think about it more. As someone who has experience.”

Your shoulders slumped, only realizing now the real reason why he was so hurt by you. “I’m...so sorry, Seungmin. I forgot. I- That was insensitive of me. I really didn’t…”

He finally turned his whole body around, the weak smile he was giving you fed your guilt even more. “I told you, I forgive you, Y/n.” Without another word, he opened your front door to let himself out. He tells you one last thing before shutting the door. “Just promise me that you’ll talk to him before you do anything stupid, okay?”

You slumped further into the couch in shame. You couldn't bring yourself to cry like you wanted to, the day being emotionally draining for you to handle. “I promise,” you whisper to yourself. You closed your eyes, opting to fall asleep on the couch for tonight.

You rubbed your hands together as you walked aimlessly on the streets. After locking yourself in your dark house the whole day, you went out into the busy, afternoon streets to treat yourself. You were feeling a bit cranky seeing how you haven’t eaten anything yet, but not knowing what you wanted to eat. You let yourself wander a little more until you remembered something Felix had mentioned to you yesterday.

“There’s a new café that opened just last week. We should go there together soon!”

You walk into the direction of the café, wanting a “preview” of the food there. Arriving there, you note the pastel colors painted the walls, instead of the boring browns and greys most cafés are. You peeked through the window, debating whether you should wait for the other two boys or not. Looking around, you note a familiar mop of blond strands hunched over another figure on the other side of the shop.

Your heart dropped when you recognized the yellow sweater he was wearing, the same sweater you bought him for his birthday last year. Your eyes weren’t deceiving you, it really was Felix and his “best friend” in there, shamelessly hugging each other. You wanted to run away, you thought that they were too intimate to be just friends at this point. However, Seungmin’s advice haunted you from running. Now, you were determined to ask them what their stance in their relationship is and to confess to Felix this instance.

If only it was that easy for you. You stopped once you saw Felix turn his head to kiss the top of their head. Tears filled your eyes. No longer did you need to ask, it was already obvious to you. They’re together.

You turned around and walked, borderline running, away from the café. Not feeling the need to eat anymore, you ran all the way home. Once in a while, you stopped to rid yourself of the damned petals invading your lungs. If only you paid attention enough to notice the red petals that surrounded the two.

You slumped yourself against your door, once you arrived home. Everything around you looked...blurry. You couldn’t focus anymore. The only thing you can see are the bright yellow sunflower petals scattered around your floor. You clicked your tongue, shaking and laughing at the irony. The flower that you once adored and cherished is now the bane of your existence. You hopelessly kicked the petals away from you, your anger bubbling even more when they flew back to you.

Groaning, you stood up to mope on your couch instead, face planting the moment your knees hit the arm of it. You let yourself wallow in despair for almost 10 mins before remembering about the tap that was still open on your laptop. Scrambling to get up, you nearly tripped yourself on your way to your room. You opened your laptop and clicked on the tab labeled ‘The Onesided Love Syndrome’. You reread the information on the website.

“The Hanahaki disease is a rare, deadly illness born from unrequited love. When contracted, first, the infected’s throat will begin to fill up with flowers. Then, they will proceed to cough up, or even emesis, the petals. Eventually, their lungs will fill up with the fully bloomed flowers and will suffocate, ultimately leading to their demise,” you read out loud, feeling yourself get anxious. “It can only be cured in two ways. Patient must surgically remove the flower from their lungs, which will result in the patient losing all (romantic) feelings of love altogether. Patient’s love must be returned romantically...otherwise it will result in...death.”

You stayed silent. You were contemplating if you should do the procedure. You didn’t want to die but you knew that there was no other option. Felix was a taken man, and you had to accept that. However, your mind keeps going back to Seungmin and his saddened face. You turned your head to look at your phone, the screen lighting up to reveal a picture of you, Seungmin, and Felix.

You were smiling wide with your teeth showing in the picture while Seungmin had a small, dorky smile on his face. Your eyes lingered in Felix’s face. He was smiling with his teeth as well. Only he looked cuter than you with his freckles decorating his delicate face. The ambiance of the picture felt so warm as opposed to the cold, lonely room you were in. You hunched yourself over your bed to cough out the petals.

You grimaced with teary eyes, hating how it felt like you were throwing up. You got up, purposely stepping on the sunflower petals, to get a cup of water. I’ll wait. I’ll wait to make the right decision.

You have successfully avoided Felix for the past week. It’s been 5 days since you’ve seen Felix and his lover in the café. 5 days since you’ve talked to Felix. Your chest hurt, yeah, every time you avoided him, but your chest would hurt even more if you actually did interact with him.

You walked past your next class, the class that you and Felix shared. You only had that class for 2 days of the week, so you didn’t feel bad skipping it. Not like I liked that class anyways. You were already 2 classes away when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n!”

You walked faster, your heart pounding when you recognized the voice. “Y/n! Hey!” Holding your bag closer to you, you started sprinting down the hall, getting weird looks from the people you passed. Seemed like Felix wasn’t going to let you out easy, he started chasing after you. You tried running faster when his voice started becoming louder.

Felix, being the surprisingly athletic man he is, easily caught up to you, firmly but gently gripping your shoulder. “Y/n! I’ve been wanting to talk to you!” he panted harshly. You were out of breath too, but tried your best to refrain yourself from gasping for air, in fear of triggering the disease. You stayed quiet, not making eye contact with him.

“So, what’s up, Y/n? Why have you been avoiding me?”

Shock ran throughout your body, not expecting him to cut to the chase so fast. You made a little glance at him to see the sad expression on his face. You quickly looked away before he could catch you.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? What’s happening to you?”

You hate it. You hate how caring he is. You hate the worried look on his face. You hate the way he holds you so gently. And you especially hate the way your heart flutters at the way he’s basically telling you that he misses you. You mustered up the strength to look at him in the eyes. “Nothing,” you said coldly, surprising both Felix and yourself.

“Nothing, huh? Then what’s up with you avoiding me then?” Felix asked with a stern tone. He stared at you with a soft but sad look, making you feel guilty for hurting him like this.

You murmured, “I told you it’s nothing, Felix. Just- leave me alone.”

Felix was surprised by your loftiness. He, however, chose to ignore it. “Fine. Don’t tell me what’s wrong. But at least tell me what’s up with you and Seungmin!”

“What about me and Seungmin?”

“You’re avoiding him too! And he looks like he doesn’t wanna see you either. What’s wrong, Y/n? You know you can trust me, right?” Felix moved his hand from your shoulder to your cheek. He caressed with his thumb while he muttered, “I care about you.”

Your face grew warm from the sudden intimacy. His face was unnecessarily close to yours, his warm breath fanning against your lips. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it made your head dizzy. You wanted to kick yourself for leaning into his touch. You were so caught up in the moment that you couldn't bring yourself to push him away when his face leaned closer to yours. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Felix’s phone rang. Using the opportunity, you immediately pushed him away, missing the flash of pain on his face.

Slowly, he answered. Hearing him say the name you last wanted to hear, you could feel the sunflower petals making their way up your throat. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Felix’s face grow panicked. He then started calling out their name with such urgency that it made you feel a little panicked as well. Felix hung up then turned to you with a scared face. Even if you were jealous and annoyed that your moment was interrupted, that was still someone who was dear to Felix’s heart; someone who needed Felix.

“Go,” you said gently, “They need you. You care about them too, right?”

Without another word, Felix nodded, turning to run out of the school as fast as he could. Your heart ached the smaller his figure became. No longer could you contain the petals from spewing out of your mouth. You covered your mouth and coughed harder than you expected. Unlike the past few days, this couch was stronger. This time, you felt like you couldn’t stop. You coughed and coughed, grabbing the attention of a few people.

You felt lightheaded. You had a feeling that you would pass out. Right as your vision turned blurred, you could feel someone place their hands on your back and chest. “Y/n?! Y/n! Hang in there!”

“Seung...min?”

“Y/n!”

You opened your eyes, feeling heavy. Your body ached, it was like you fell from the top of a 80 story building. Feeling something, or someone, holding your hand, you turned your head to see Seungmin resting half of his body on your bed.

Wait.

This isn't my bed? You slowly sat up and looked around. Seeing the white walls, suspended tv, and the heart monitor by your side, you confirmed that you were in the hospital. Looks like Seungmin took me here.

You felt Seungmin grip your hand tighter, stirring a bit before sitting up. His eyes met yours. “Hi,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand again.

“Hi,” you whispered back.

“You feeling okay?”

“Yeah but...I didn’t...You didn’t make me-”

Seungmin knew what you were trying to ask, like usual. “No. I didn’t. I wanted you to make the decision yourself.” You sighed in relief, falling back onto the comfort of the hospital bed. You stared up at the white ceiling as Seungmin stared at you.

“The doctor scanned you while you were unconscious,” he said.

“Yeah? What did he say?”

“He diagnosed you; said you had the disease for about a week now, which I told him that we already knew.”

You hummed, acknowledging that you were listening.

“Then he told me-“ Seungmin hesitated, trying to find the right words to use.

You sat up again, staring him down. “He told you, what?”

He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry but, you only have about a month left to live.”

“Wh-Wha? Huh?” you were scared. Only one month? “But I thought- I thought I’d have a little more time than that! One month only? How-?”

“It’s an unpredictable disease, Y/n. I know it’s only a short time left, but I still wanted you to talk to Lix first before you do it.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from tearing up. “I kinda talked to him already- he’s kinda the reason why my petals went haywire. There’s nothing to talk about anymore, Min.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Besides. He needed to go to- you know. I didn’t wanna stop him from going, it sounded urgent.”

“Oh!” Seungmin gasped, “Luckily you said that! Felix is actually here.”

“...What?”

“Yup! Apparently they have the Hanahaki Disease too and their petals went haywire, like yours did. They just finished the surgery not that long ago!”

“Hanahaki…? But, how? I thought that they were together?”

“That’s why I keep telling you to talk to him,” he said, placing his free hand on your knee. “I’ll call him?”

You nodded your head, not trusting your voice. Seungmin let’s go and stands up. “I’ll be fast.” He jogged out of the room, leaving you alone with your confused heart.

About 10 minutes later, there was a knock. You looked up to see a tear-stained face Felix and a breathless Seungmin at the entrance. “I’ll leave you guys now,” Seungmin announced, patting Felix’s shoulder and muttering a good luck to both of you.

Felix cautiously walked inside, his eyes on the floor. He wordlessly sat on the chair Seungmin sat on. The two of you stayed quiet, not having the guts to look at each other.

“So, you too, huh?” Felix’s voice rang out. You turned to find him already staring at you. Different kinds of embarrassment flooded your mind.

“What? About me liking you too or about the Hanahaki thing?”

His face looked confused at the first thing you said. “Uh, both?” he said with uncertainty. “Wait. ‘Too’ as in, you knew I liked you, or-?”

“You like me...too?” Now you were confused as well. “Wait wait wait. Start over.”

“I meant, you had the Hanahaki disease too?”

“Yeah...Yeah I did. I mean, I still do. Seungmin didn’t want me to undergo the surgery just yet. He kept telling me that he didn’t want me to regret anything.”

Felix chuckled weakly. “Yup. That’s Seungmin, alright,” he sighed. “Looks like you guys are good now.”

“Yeah.” Another wave of silence took over the room.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered again. You looked at the boy that was hunched over in his chair. His hands were stiffly laid on his lap, but it looked like he wanted to hold your hands instead. So you did. You grabbed his hands, cupping them into your own. His eyes widened.

“I was scared,” you confessed with determination. “I didn’t know if I was ready to get hurt. I didn’t want to get hurt. So, I just stayed quiet all this time.”

You looked into his eyes with the same amount of passion he had in his. “But then I saw you hanging out with that best friend of yours more often and- and I got jealous. I feel bad, you should be about to hang out with whoever you want, especially with them! I shouldn’t have been jealous but there's no helping it, I guess. God, I even thought that you two were freaking dating! I was- I...“

You sighed, getting overwhelmed. You took another deep breath before continuing. getting straight to the point, you said, loud and proud, “I love you, Felix.”

Felix’s face turned red. His mouth literally dropped open.

“I love you so, so much, Felix Lee. This all happened because I love you so much, and I was just being selfish because I didn’t want to lose you...I guess I just ended up hurting a lot of people, not just myself.”

He dwelled in your confession. Felix was ecstatic to hear this! He stayed silent, still in overjoyed shock, which you misread.

“If you don’t reciprocate, it’s fine. I just wanted to tell you before I do the surgery.”

All of a sudden, Felix shot out of his chair, making it tip over, and kissed you, which greatly surprised you. His small hands cupped your face with such care, you almost wanted to cry. You kissed him back, moving your hands over his. With that one kiss, you could feel all the weight on your shoulders, and in your chest, disappear. Felix was the first to pull away, leaning his forehead against yours.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Hm?” you mumbled breathlessly. “Why don’t you do it again? You know I’ve been waiting for this too.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, this one more intense than the last one. This kiss was more desperate, like you both were scared that this was a dream. Before anything could get heated, the sound of a knock and someone clearing out their throat interrupted you two.

“Sorry to interrupt you kids, but I have a patient to examine?” The two of you frantically moved away from each other, flustered. You both muttered quick sorry’s to the doctor. The doctor walked closer to you, holding some documents and a weird device that looked like a fetoscope in his hands.

“You’re L/n, Y/n, I presume?”

“Yes, sir,” you confirmed, still embarrassed from getting caught making out with Felix. The said boy rocked on his feet, his arms were comically stiff in front of him.

“Your friend, Kim, should’ve told you what I told him. Now that you’re awake, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go through a procedure to remove the flower in your lungs. However, I’m guessing that that might not be necessary, anymore, hm?”

You and Felix grew hot. The both of you avoided eye contact with one another. The doctor only laughed at your awkwardness.

“It’s fine. No need to be embarrassed, youngins’,” he laughed, “This is way better than dying or living your life without love.”

You giggled stiffly, mustering the courage to look at Felix. “Yes, sir. You’re right,” you breathed out with a smile.

The Doctor hummed. “Well, judging by the little scene you’ve created, I think that you have already cured yourself from the disease,” he said, putting his documents down on the bedside table. “but just in case, please allow me to scan your chest to confirm.”

Hesitantly, you pulled down your shirt, revealing your chest. Felix, out of shyness, turned away from you with a red face. You had to resist the urge to laugh at his adorable-ness. The doctor gave you a lubricant to rub on your chest and held the device against it. He maneuvered it around your chest, observing the screen in his other hand.

“Well then, Y/n. Looks like you’re lucky! The petals have completely disappeared. You are now cured from Hanahaki!”

You smiled widely, looking at Felix, who returned your smile. The doctor excused himself out of the room, leaving you both alone.

“Congratulations, love. You now get to live a long life with your boyfriend!” Felix cheered. Your face burned at the title he had given himself.

“I love you,” you said happily.

“I love you too.” He steps closer to you to kiss you again when another knock interrupted you again. You laughed hearing the quiet “shit” that came out of Felix’s mouth. You both turned to see Seungmin standing there with a smug smile.

“I told you so,” he said proudly. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Thanks, Seungmin the wise,” you sarcastically said. The three of you laughed, happy that the bond between the three of you was now stronger than ever.

“Hey wait, you still haven’t answer my question, Y/n! Do you like pineapple pizza or not?”

(Case #XX2-

Name: Y/n L/n

Patient: Cured; discharged at XX,XX,XXX at XX:XX)

—————————————————————————

(back to Page I)

[ynscrazylife]

This is kind of a cliche request but can you do sth where the reader and Natasha are on a date at coffee shop or somewhere and another girl that the reader used to like and was rejected comes in and Natasha recognises her and starts to get jealous but when Nat goes to the bathroom the other girl tells her she made a mistake but the reader says she is happy w nat which nat over hears? Thankyou 💕

I love this request ! To anyone else who requested, I’m just going in order.

Y/N nearly spit out the coffee she was drinking. “Clint did what?” She asked, eyebrows raised from where she and her girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff, sat in a coffee shop. It was rare for the two spies to have a day off for themselves, and the beautiful weather outside just made it feel more and more like a wonderful dream.

Natasha nodded in confirmation, giggling. It was so rare that the Black Widow did something as innocent as giggling that the sound warmed Y/N’s heart. “He hid in the vents to get out of a lecture from Steve,” she said, shaking her head in amusement at the memory.

“Wow. I really should visit the Tower more often,” Y/N said, putting the mug to her lips and taking a long sip of her coffee. “Mmmm.”

The door rang as it opened, alerting both women. Y/N was able to keep her concentration on her girlfriend, but Natasha being a highly trained spy, flickered her eyes over just in case the person entering was a threat.

Y/N gazed out the window behind the redhead until she heard Natasha growl just the lightest of bit and saw her eyes narrow. Y/N immediately sat up in her seat and went to look at what Natasha was looking at, until Natasha placed her hand over Y/N’s, stopping her.

Damn. The butterflies fluttering through her heart was as familiar was the first time they met. It was only a signal of how in love Y/N was.

“It’s nothing, Любовь,” Natasha said, making Y/N smile once more and calm down. The trust they had in each other was unrivaled.

(Любовь = ‘love’)

It wasn’t nothing. At least, not for Natasha. However Natasha didn’t want to worry her girlfriend, or put a damper on the mood. The two were having such a good time together, and Natasha would to anything to keep that from being distributed.

What Natasha saw wasn’t a huge threat, she thought. It was merely Y/N’s “ex”, a SHIELD Agent who had moved a couple months back. Natasha remembered the story clearly. She was the one to comfort Y/N, as her best friend at the time, after that dammned girl rejected her. That was the night when Natasha thought “Who could reject such an amazing and beautiful woman?” and Natasha realized she was starting to fall for Y/N.

The two talked a bit more until Natasha had to go to the bathroom. She excused herself, and Y/N sipped more of her coffee and gazed out the window once more. However, her peace wasn’t held for long.

“Y/N?” Y/N turned around when hearing her name, and blinked in shock when she saw Maria, the woman she had fallen for and was cruelly rejected by.

“Uh, Maria? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, trying to remain civil.

“Well, I realized that I made the wrong choice, Y/N. And I’d like to have a chance with you,” Maria said, not meeting Y/N’s eyes, and shifting her weight uncomfortably.

Y/N waited for a moment, trying to see if this was a joke. When the silence just continued, she stated the obvious, “You laughed in my face and asked me why a girl like you would ever want a girl like me when I confessed my feelings for you.”

A blush quickly grew on Maria’s face and she looked away, shameful, before gaining the courage to look at Y/N. “I know, but . . . I was wrong to do that . . . And, c’mon, are you actually happy with Romanoff? She’s scary. I would treat you better,” Maria said, getting back the courage she had months ago.

Y/N’s nose flared and she stood up, frowning. “Nat may be a little intimidating at first, but she’s far from ‘scary’. And I doubt you could treat me better, as all you’ve shown is that you’d treat me worse than she does. I’m much happier with her,” Y/N said.

Maria blinked, obviously expecting something different than this reaction. When Maria just stood there, Y/N said, “I believe we’re done. Bye.” Maria took that as her cue to leave.

Y/N took a deep breath, calming down. When she saw Natasha head back to the table, her previous annoyance disappeared. Y/N immediately walked towards Natasha and gave her girlfriend a kiss.

Natasha merely grinned down at Y/N. “You heard that, didn’t you?” Y/N asked.

Natasha nodded. “I did. I’m so happy that you’re happy. That’s all I ever wanted,” she said, and leaned down to kiss Y/N again. They forgot that they were in a coffee shop.

[nightshade-minho]

3021: Starless

-(4)-

Warnings: presence of knives and weapons, android blood. explicit smut: master kink, spanking, rough facefucking, unprotected sex, degradation, light bunny kink, nipple play, creampie, voyeurism (i think? idk hyunjin is listening in on everything-), biting, a punch.

Wc: 6.4k

The alarm forced you awake, and you rolled over in your bed with a groan as you slammed the button violently, the incessant wailing finally stopping. With a sigh, your tired brain tried to remember why you'd set an alarm this early.

Oh. Right. You had a date.

You sat up with a smile on your face, stretching before going over to your closet and wondering what to wear. A part of you really wanted to impress Minho. Finally, you settled on a cute dress you rarely wore. Pulling it on, you looked in the mirror and nodded to yourself in approval. Not bad...

As you finished getting ready, you hovered near your trusty knives on the bedside table. You weren't going to need them on a date...and it wasn't like you could hide them in your dress, either. You shook your head and left them there, going to the living room.

Hyunjin was lying on the couch, his gaze fixed on the netscreen. As he noticed you walk in, he hurriedly switched it off, putting a smile on his face. Frowning, you went over to grab your keys, his shifty behaviour making you suspicious.

"Um, is there anything I should know?"

"What? Nothing! Absolutely nothing." He eyed you up and down, wolf-whistling under his breath. "Damn, who'd you dress up for?"

"That's none of your business. I'll be back later. Again-"

"Don't answer the door for strangers. Got it. I'll be careful. I'm not a toddler, Y/n."

You rolled your eyes as you opened the front door. "Could have had me fooled. Also...I'm tired of you walking around shirtless. I'll get Jisung to bring you some clothes."

Hyunjin smirked, placing his cheek in his palm. "Why, angel? Does it affect you?"

Deciding not to grace him with an answer, you left the apartment, locking it behind you, his chuckle the last thing you hear as you leave.

Minho's eyes lit up as you walked towards him from across the street, your footsteps lazy as you crossed the road.

"Hey there. You look really pretty." He smiled. You looked around, humming. You were downtown, on a long street lined with hawkers and stalls selling everything from netscreens to steaming hot dumplings. It wasn't exactly your first choice for a date night, but it could be fun. It was also very close to your home, so if an emergency were to happen, you'd be able to dash back...

"Thank you. So...what have you got planned?"

"Well, I've always found places like this interesting. Every person here probably has a different story..." he sighed as he looked around the crowd, before dragging his gaze back to you. "I just thought we could take a walk, reach the end of the street. Maybe browse some stalls. What do you think? Cause there's a nice restaurant nearby, so if you don't like it then...." He chewed on his bottom lip, worried that you thought his idea was lame.

"No, this sounds fun. Let's do it." You shrugged. His relieved grin made your heart flutter as he hesitantly took your hand, leading you down the street.

Jisung knocked on the door, clutching the bag in his hands tightly as he waited for Hyunjin to open up. You’d called him and told him to bring Hyunjin ‘some clothes’. Hearing your voice again had made him realize just how much he’d missed you, despite only being away for one night.

When Hyunjin finally opened the door, Jisung lifted an eyebrow as he noted his bare chest, and the tight sweatpants which he remembered seeing you wear on more than one occasion. Could you have...no. Slightly uncomfortable, he ignored the android’s cocky smirk as he pushed past, heading for the couch and dropping the bag there.

“Here are some clothes that hopefully fit you.” He wrinkled his nose, trying to avert his eyes from the scantily clad android. “So...you don’t have to walk around looking like that.”

Hyunjin hummed, taking a banana from the fruit bowl and handing it to Jisung as he sifted through the clothes. “Thank you.” He said simply.

Jisung regarded the banana with disdain, dropping it on the table as he looked around. “Do you...do you know where Y/n went?”

Hyunjin picked up the nervous edge to Jisung’s voice. Hmm.

“I don’t know, she didn’t say. But...my guess is she was going on a date. She dressed up real cute.” He shrugged, grabbing Jisung’s discarded banana and peeling it.

“A...a date?” Jisung swallowed, hating the mass of jealousy clogging his throat. “Y/n never dresses up...”

“Hm.” Hyunjin bit into the banana, talking with his mouth full. “When’s the last time you took a shower, dude?”

Jisung fought the urge to snap, his patience wearing thin. ‘I’m a mechanic, pretty boy. This is what I do for a living.” He wiped off the grease on his chin, looking up. ‘Did I get it?”

Hyunjin tilted his head in amusement. “Uh huh.”

Jisung glared, pausing as his neodisk’s alarm set off. Shit, he had to be back at the workshop in 15 minutes. He had really wanted to ask Hyunjin some questions, though. Why was he hiding from the palace? And how long was he expecting to do it?

“Bye.” Jisung mumbled under his breath, heading for the door. He didn’t know if it was jealousy or an actual fear of being found out...but he needed Hyunjin out of your apartment, as soon as possible.

"Those are fake, right?" You noted, your eyes falling on a stall lined with numerous neodisks and netscreens. "There's no way those are authentic, especially when they only cost that much." You said firmly.

"They most probably are." He shrugged, as you continued walking down the street.

So far, the date was going very well. Minho was funny, good at conversation, and he seemed to care about you a lot. This was the most fun you'd had in ages.

It was nice not having to be riddled with worries and burdens. For once in your life, someone else was taking the lead. It felt liberating.

The two of you had already consumed a fair amount of dumplings as well as managed to piss off every other person in the Sound Sensitivity stall, when your neodisk's extremely loud ringtone sliced through the silence, causing you to stumble and knock over an entire shelf of deflectors. Needless to say, the two of you were now banned from that particular stall.

You regretted pushing him away, wishing you'd given him the chance to show this side of him before.

"Oh look!" Your eyes suddenly focused an array of jewelry, laid across the table, most of the pieces looking suspiciously authentic.

"That looks interesting. Wait, look at those..." He said slowly, pulling you to the stall and running his finger over the item that had caught his eye right away.

You peered around him, letting out a small gasp as you saw what he was looking at.

There were a pair of beautiful, delicate rings lying on the table. Wow. You found yourself wondering about the history behind them. They seemed to be really ancient.

Minho took one in his hand, inspecting it as he turned it around. "Wow. This looks like a real ruby...if it's fake, then it's very well made."

"Are they wedding rings?" You noticed in awe as he handed the other, more petite one to you. Turning it over, you made a small sound of appreciation.

Unable to control the temptation, you slid the ring down your finger, raising your hand to look at it. It was so beautiful...

"Do you really like it?"

"I do..."

"Then buy it."

"I didn't bring any crescents with me." You sigh, moving to take the ring off. "It's okay-"

"No! Just...wait. Let me find out how much it costs, okay?" He quickly stepped into the stall before you could protest. You sighed, continuing to look through the rest of the jewelry as Minho found the shop owner, sitting at the back in a chair. He noticed her blinker, realizing she was an android. Fuck, she wouldn't be easy to bargain with.

"How much are these?" He asked, raising up the ring.

The woman paused, squinting at it before nodding. "If you want the pair, 1021 crescents."

Minho groaned inwardly. He didn't want to let you down...but if you knew he bought something that expensive for you on the first date, you would probably be weirded out. It's not like you knew how rich he was.

Sighing, Minho nodded. "Okay, I'll buy them." The lady nodded, handing him the crescent processor. He punched in his code, the woman taking the device back as it let out a tiny ping.

"All yours." She said, turning around and going back to her chair. Minho bowed gratefully before heading out again.

He walked over to you, smiling. "I got them."

"Oh, how much were they??"

Shit.

"Um, only 15 crescents."

You hummed in approval, smiling as he slid his ring on as well. "Wow, that's less than I expected for rings this intricate, but I guess this place isn't a certified jewelry store or anything. It makes sense."

"Yeah." He swallowed. He didn't like lying to you, even if it was just a tiny white lie...but he'd gotten used to lying. The smile on your face as you looked at him was enough, though. He watched you observe the glinting ring on your finger, swallowing. Maybe he should tell you those were real, and not a cheap knock-off...but no, you might think it's weird and return it. He definitely didn’t want that. Something about you wearing the ring he bought for you was making his heart thud impossibly fast.

His smile grew wider as you grabbed his hand again, tugging gently. "I'm hungry." You pouted.

"Didn't we just eat, princess?"

"Well yeah, but we didn't have dessert..." You mumbled, looking up. He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Okay, let's go get something sweet. Like what, though?"

You looked around, your eyes falling on an ice cream truck right across you, letting out a sound of happiness in the process. Minho followed your gaze, smiling as he saw the stall.

"Do you want ice-cream, hm, baby?" He teased. You nodded, flashing him doe eyes as he tried to maintain his control, your innocent expression affecting him in a way he couldn't quite describe.

The two of you made your way to the stall.

After a lot of thought, you decided on a pinkberry popsicle. Minho chose not to have one, claiming he didn't have much of a sweet tooth.

You walked down the street, swinging Minho's hand lightly as you licked and sucked on your popsicle with fervor. It'd been so long since you had ice cream of any sort, choosing to ration your crescents to buy what really mattered. Humming under your breath, you glanced up at him, only to find his gaze burning into you, his expression having changed.

Minho tried to ignore the heat rushing south as you swirled your tongue around the tip of the popsicle, seemingly oblivious to the effect you were having on him. But no, you’d noticed.

You averted your eyes from him, his heavy stare causing your insides to twist. You tried your best to consume the ice-cream in a less...provocative manner, but it wasn't as easy as it sounds.

Eh, fuck it. You might as well have some fun with it.

You licked a stripe up the base of the popsicle to the top, sucking on it as you looked up at him, winking.

When his eyes darkened considerably, you knew you'd been playing a dangerous game. Minho kept his eyes firmly locked on the street in front of him, his hand tight around yours as he chose to ignore you.

You sighed under your breath at your failure to rile him up, choosing to finish your ice-cream silently as the crowd started thinning out, the two of you nearing the end of the street.

The road was now quiet, and the absence of the bustling noise you'd grown accustomed to around these parts made the atmosphere even more intense. You carefully avoided eye contact with Minho as you discarded the naked popsicle stick into a waiting trashmachine, not wanting to see his expression.

"You really seemed to be enjoying that ice-cream." He said lowly, his tone sparking something carnal in your lower half. God.

To tell the truth, you weren't big on sex. The only passion you'd ever harboured was toward your knives...So the deep arousal settling itself in your core was surprising, to say the least.

What did you have to lose?

"I was. It was delicious." You mumbled, leaning in closer to him and working up your courage.

"I'd rather taste something else, though."

Minho swore under his breath at your boldness. That was it, he couldn't hold himself back anymore. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you into an empty alley, pushing you up against the wall as his eyes bore into yours.

"Naughty kitten. I didn't expect this from you." He mumbled almost to himself, his finger coming up to tilt your chin higher, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"I like the bold ones, though." He whispered in your ear. His proximity was blindingly intoxicating, and you let out a small whimper when you felt his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

Minho's eyebrow raised. "What was that?" He let out a drawn out chuckle. "I barely did anything, kitten. Why are you already so riled up?

"I'm not."

His finger brushed across your cheek as he cupped it gently, his lips forming into a mock pout. "Your face is redder than a tomato...I guess I finally managed to fluster you. Yay me." He mumbled, his eyes on your lips.

"I never get f-flustered. Especially not by you."

Minho paused, his smirk growing wider as he noticed the way you couldn't quite look at his face, the slight tremble of your lip as you uttered the lie.

"Sure, whatever you say." Minho leaned in until his bottom lip brushed against yours. He found himself relishing the blown out innocence in your expression. For once, you didn't look completely self assured, confident you know what happens next. The light helplessness he had thrust you into was turning him on even more.

Your lips parted as you stared up at him, too shy to make the first move.

Inhaling, Minho let out a soft sigh. His breath tickled your chin as he finally molded his lips with yours, gently.

Your eyes blew wide as his admittedly soft mouth moved against yours, slowly drifting closed as you kissed him back. He tasted so sweet...

Minho's hands snaked behind you, gripping the backs of your thighs as he lifted you up, slotting himself between your legs.

"I've been wanting to do this for such a long time..." he mumbled against your lips, teeth pulling on your bottom lip as he stared into your eyes.

You held onto him tightly, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your lips back to his, parting yours. The two of you made out, each swipe of his tongue drawing out a moan from you, making you want more.

He broke away after a few minutes, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours.

"You-"

You were interrupted as he rolled his hips into yours out of nowhere, the thick bulge in his pants rubbing against your clothed folds. Letting out a choked moan, you whined softly, bucking your hips as your mind begged for more.

"Patience, kitten."

"I'm p-patient."

He raised an eyebrow, one hand sliding up your dress to cup your breast, his thumb running over your covered nipple and drawing out another whimper from you.

"Really? Doesn't seem like it."

"Please-"

"Please, what?"

"Please make me f-feel good." You managed to get out, looking up at him with pleading eyes and making him swear as he let go of you, setting you on the ground again as he pulled you out of the alley, his grip on your wrist firm as he walked to your apartment as fast as he could.

Fuck, it hurt. But it had to be done. Hyunjin stared at the bloody tracker in the sink. Setting the knife down, he breathed out slowly.

Smashing it with his fist, he made sure it was destroyed before tossing it into your trash can and sighing. He used his elbow to wipe the drops of blue on the counter. Shit, he was going to need a shower after this.

No matter what, one thing was for sure. He couldn’t let them find him.

Never.

As the two of you got closer to your apartment, your addled brain suddenly remembered the fact that you were hiding the royal android in your apartment- and here you were, bringing someone who worked for the government right to him. Damn it, all the making out had made you forget.

You stopped in your tracks right in front of your front door, Minho turning to you with a raised eyebrow at your hesitation.

"Open the door, Y/n."

"I...um..." you tried to gather your thoughts together. You couldn't send him away now. Fuck. You were already in too deep, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't need him inside you right away.

"I...um, my room is really messy. Uh, just let me go in and clean it a bit-"

Minho let out a low growl, trapping you against your door as he leaned in. "I don't give a shit about your room, kitten. I just want to fuck you until you're dumb and begging me for more."

You looked up at him, mouth opening slightly as you tried to think of what to say, his words effectively rendering you mute.

"P-please?" You managed to get out, pouting up at him. Minho's expression softened slightly, and he stepped back slowly with a sigh. "Fine. Go ahead." He leaned against the wall, raising an eyebrow at you. "Be quick. I don't want to stay out in this hallway with a boner any longer than I have to."

You smiled gratefully, quickly unlocking your door and shutting it behind you as you went into your apartment. Swearing under your breath, you quickly searched your tiny apartment, unable to find Hyunjin. Your heart started beating faster as you wondered where the tall android could have possibly gone.

Finally, you found him in your bathroom.

Naked.

"What the f- Hyunjin! I thought I told Jisung to get you clothes-"

"He did. I can't take a shower clothed, though, right?" Hyunjin smirked, clutching your towel in his fingers as he glanced up at your red cheeks.

"You look worked up."

"It's not because of you." You hissed, and the man scoffed. "Whatever you say, princess."

Your eyes widened as you heard your front door open, cursing.

Fuck this. You really didn't have time for this bullshit.

"Stay. Quiet." You snapped quietly, ignoring Hyunjin's confused expression as you quickly darted out of the bathroom, locking the door from the outside as you leaned against it, trying to seem nonchalant.

Minho walked in, his eyes falling on your messy bed as he pulled his shirt off, making you gulp at the sight of his chiselled torso.

"Well, you didn't really do a good job of cleaning, did you?" He laughed. "It's okay, I don't blame you."

He came over to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he tilted your chin up. "I'm going to ruin this pretty face of yours." He mumbled, pressing his lips to yours again as you whimpered against him. He groaned, his hands roughly kneading the flesh of your ass as he deepened the kiss even further.

He bit your lip again, his hand coming down to your thigh to lift it higher, his bulge gaining better access to your heat. "Fuck, I can feel how wet you are. Tell me, baby. How do you want me?"

You whined, the words stuck in your throat. You were acutely aware of Hyunjin's presence in the bathroom, and the fact that he was overhearing all of this.

Minho's hand suddenly came down on your rear, a sharp smack that snapped you out of your thoughts, making you yelp. "Answer my question." He growled.

All your hesitation melted away in that moment. You were too far gone.

"I w-want you, Master."

Minho's eyes widened a little at the title, swallowing as he noted your embarrassed expression at what had slipped out. He felt himself get harder, his pants constricting him uncomfortably.

A smirk grew on his face as he picked you up, kissing you as he sat down on your bed with you on his lap. “Good girl.”

You grinded down on him, moaning softly at the feeling of his erection. "M-master, I wanna taste you..."

He looked up at you, nodding. "Whatever you want, kitten. Get master's cock all wet, hm?"

You slithered down, unzipping his pants hastily. Consumed with the need to feel him, you pulled down his briefs as quickly as you could, the sight of his cock drawing out a groan from you.

Long and pink, a bead of pre-cum rested on its tip. Unable to control yourself, you leaned in and swiped your tongue over it, humming at the taste.

Minho threw his head back, the view of your soft lips wrapping around the head of his cock making him feel drunk on an emotion he never knew existed. On instinct, his fingers curled in your hair, making you take him even deeper.

You tried to focus on your breathing as Minho's cock hit the back of your throat, pulling on your hair roughly as he started fucking into you. "That's right." He hissed. "Little slut. Take this fucking cock-"

He grunted, reaching down to pull on your top, exposing more of your cleavage to him. Scared he was going to rip your dress, you reached behind you to unzip it.

Minho let you pull off his cock for a second, helping you slide the offending material off. As soon as you managed to get the dress on the floor, his hold on your hair was back, shoving you all the way down on his cock once more.

The lack of oxygen was making you lightheaded, as Minho resumed his almost cruelly rough thrusts. You loved it, though. The heat between your thighs was demanding your attention, but you just couldn't bring yourself to pull away yet. Just a little more...fuck, his groans above you sounded so heavenly. You wished you could hear them everyday.

Minho finally seemed to take some mercy on you, his grip on your hair tightening as he slid his cock out of your mouth slowly, inch by inch.

"Pretty." He mumbled, his thumb running over your lip, slick with his juices. You let out a mewl, wanting him to ruin you already. You wanted to be fucked stupid, like he said. Wanted to be his helpless little doll.

It scared you, how much you were willing to give away all your power to this man. Throw away any semblance of control, just to not be able to make decisions for once, for someone else to take care of you for a change.

Minho pulled you onto his lap, playing with the waistband of your panties as he gazed into your eyes. "I'm going to have my way with you, sweetheart." He said, pulling your panties off with a sudden, almost eerie calmness. ‘And you’re going to take it all like a good slut, hm?”

Minho's hands on your hips guided you over his cock, and your breath hitched as you feel his tip pressing against the velvet of your folds, his eyes falling on your chest. ‘Y-yes, Master.”

Minho's lips latched around your clothed nipple, nibbling on it gently as he pulled your other breast out of its cup, toying with the bud.

"Master..."

"Hm?" His eyes shot up to yours, and you're shocked at how different they look. Dark, filled with irate lust and an apparent need to claim you.

"I need you."

"Beg for it."

You swallowed, hesitation filling you. You looked up at the ceiling as your brain reminded you for a second about the asshole in the other room who was most likely having a field day eavesdropping. He was probably really enjoying it. You wouldn't put it past him.

The image of his dick, that you'd accidentally stolen a glance of, suddenly flashed in your head, turning you redder. It was beautiful...almost weirdly so. Inhumanely perfect. Obviously, it was manufactured to be, but that didn't mean you weren't going to-

Minho's squeeze on your ass cheek brought you back to the present, confusion filling you as you looked back down at the man, his head tilted as he glared at you.

Why the fuck were you thinking about that pain in the ass, when you had this god of a human underneath you? Honestly, Y/n, get it together.

“I told you to beg.”

You felt your uncertainty melt away as you inhaled, the neediness making a reappearance.

"Want my p-pussy destroyed. Want master to fill me up. Make me his." You said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He buried his nose in your neck, humming in content. "Good girl. My good girl." He mumbled against your skin, lining his cock up with your entrance, pumping himself as he did so.

You let out a strangled moan as you felt him push his rigid length into you slowly, your walls hugging him tightly as you tried to adjust to the feeling. "F-fuck-"

"It feels good, doesn't it?" He said, tone a little softer compared to before. You nodded desperately as his hands found your waist, moving you and forcing you to take more of his cock, until you were sitting on him, him entirely inside of you.

Was sex always supposed to feel this good? It was almost euphoric, how good his length felt, stretching your pussy to its absolute limit. The pleasure shot through you, filling you up completely. Using your waist as leverage, he slowly started fucking up into you. Slow at first, and then his thrusts turned more animalistic, stretching your ass cheeks to take you deeper.

"It feels a-amazing, Master." You were finding it hard to speak incoherently, the sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room as you descended into a flurry of whines, as he bit your boobs, his lips kissing everything he could reach.

His mouth found yours again eventually, his lips parting yours as he pulled you close to him, your bodies sweaty and pressed together.

“Shit...”

Minho growled into the kiss, flipping you around and hovering over you as he lifted one leg over his shoulder, the new angle enabling him to hit your sweet spot accurately. The sight of your pussy twitching around his cock, stretching to accommodate all of him, was pushing him closer to the edge. You were perfect. So fucking perfect.

Minho had imagined having sex with you before. He'd never imagined it would be this heavenly, though. You were a completely different person now, the snark having disappeared completely. There were small whimpers falling out of your mouth, rather than the sarcastic comebacks he'd gotten used to hearing.

"My cute little slut. My bunny. Fuck." He snarled at the feeling of you clenching around him, his words driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. "You like this? Being a little whore for your master?"

You nodded in desperation, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he drove his cock into you like he was possessed. And he was, his emotions blurring as he felt you tilt your head back.

Minho bent down over you, hurriedly removing your bra and throwing it on the floor. He needed to see all of you. Running his hands over your boobs, he bit your neck, running his tongue over the marks he was making.

"I...I'm going to cum-" You cried out, raking your nails down his back as you squirmed. He held you down, your expression pushing him impossibly closer to his high. Minho frowned as he felt his heart pound. Even when he was inside you, he somehow wanted to get even closer to you. Groaning, he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. The metal of the ring he’d got you brushed against his skin, making his heartbeat accelerate.

For a second, he wondered why you were even letting him fuck you. Was this going to be a one time thing? Or did you really like him?

Did you want to be with him?

Minho opened his mouth, a groan leaving him as he looked at the spot where you two were connected. "Y/n..."

You looked up at him, quivering as you felt your orgasm overtaking you, hitting you full force. Waves of pleasure crashed through you as you tried to listen to Minho, your brain a mushy mess as your orgasm forced you to forget how to breathe.

"Y/n, I love..." Minho frowned, trailing off as he continued thrusting. No...fuck, he was too scared.

"...your pussy. Taking me in so well. Cum all over Master, there you go..." Feeling the sparks of pleasure in his abdomen build, Minho rutted into your limp body, desperately chasing his high. Maybe some other time.

"M-master...want your cum, please..." you whispered into his ear, unable to take the overstimulation for any longer. You felt him pounding into your sensitive pussy, the sensation overwhelming you.

"Fuck, take it then, bunny-" Minho growled, slamming into you as he came. You whimpered, feeling him paint you white. The stars behind your eyes faded slowly as you blinked, Minho's face a blur above you.

He rode out his high, collapsing gently on top of you, his head in the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss on the sensitive skin. Panting heavily, Minho lifted himself up, his eyes running over your naked body as he pulled out.

"You're beautiful." He mumbled, thumb stroking your wet cheek. You smiled weakly, sitting up a little. Minho followed your gaze to your pussy, his cum dribbling out from between your folds and forming a small pool on the mattress.

"Hm, we need to get you all cleaned up." He stood up. "Do you want to take a shower?"

You almost nodded, but then you suddenly remembered. Fuck.

"N-no! I...I'm tired. Cuddles?" You held your hands out to him, pouting as innocently as you could. Minho shook his head, grinning as he grabbed his shirt from the floor, pulling it on.

"Fine, just tell me where you keep the towels, then." He said, heading towards the door of your bathroom. Oh god.

You jumped up on your wobbly legs, stumbling a little as you went over to him and grabbed his hand, stopping him. He looked at you, an eyebrow raised at your weird behaviour. You opened your mouth, wondering what to say.

A sudden sharp ring cut through the silence, coming from his discarded pants on the floor. You let go of Minho as he crouched down to pull his neodisk out of his pocket, frowning at the screen.

Oh no. 

"Shit. Uh....Y/n, I've got to go." He looked at you in concern, clutching the device in his hand as he sighed, barely concealing his frustration. "Will you be okay?"

You tried to conceal your curiosity, knowing this would be to your advantage. No longer having to come up with an excuse, you nodded quickly, answering affirmatively. "Yeah. I'll be okay."

Minho quickly pulled his pants on as your eyes surreptitiously glanced at the bathroom door. You thanked whoever was up there for the distraction, watching as Minho clothed himself hurriedly.

Glancing back at you, Minho bit his lip. He really didn't want to leave you like this. He wanted to hold you close, wanted to kiss your face and tell you what a good girl you'd been for him. But he was helpless.

He needed one more kiss, though. Now that he'd tasted your soft lips, he wasn't sure he could stop himself from wanting to kiss you all the time. You'd always been intoxicating, but now you were even more so.

Walking to you, he grabbed your cheeks, staring into your eyes, his own straying down to your lips. Leaning in, he kissed you, soft and sweet.

"See you tomorrow, baby." He mumbled against your lips, giving you a half-hearted smile before turning around to leave. You sighed as he left, your heart cursing Hyunjin.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you twisted around, pulling on your clothes and walking quickly over to your bathroom. Your hand paused on the handle, as you felt the embarrassment bubbling up again. Whatever. Suck it up, Y/n.

You still craved Minho, wanted him to wrap you in his strong arms and make you feel safe. Shaking your head, you reminded yourself to snap back to the present. There was nothing you could do.

Hyunjin raised his head as you opened the door, his infuriating smirk still on display. And he was still fucking naked. 

“Well, you seemed like you were having fun out there.”

“I was.” You snapped, shaking your head. “Did...did you really hear everything?”

Hyunjin stood up, walking close to you. Again, too close. He seemed to like invading your personal bubble.

“M-master, I n-need you~” He mocked, making his voice high-pitched in an attempt to mock you. Your glare grew icier. He shrugged, voice back to normal. “But you still sounded really hot. I bet I could make you feel even better, though. Make you moan louder.” His tone dropped deeper on that last sentence, making you swallow as you stepped away.

“Fuck off.” You muttered, trying to not show your expression on your face. “Now get out. I need a shower.”

He smiled. “A-”

“If the next sentence out of your mouth is a suggestion to join me, no thanks.” You grumbled. He chuckled at that, shaking his head as he eyed your limp with contempt.

“No, I was just asking if you were hungry. I have a million different recipes embedded in my memory, and I wanted to try and cook today. You know, as a thank you for letting me stay.”

You paused, turning your head and sighing. “Well, I’m not that hungry...but sure, go ahead.”

He smiled, bowing. “You won’t be disappointed, princess.”

You grimaced as he left, stripping naked once more as you stepped into the shower, not wanting to think about the possible feelings you had for Minho or Hyunjin and his annoyingly stressful presence in your house. You really had to ask him what he was planning on doing sometime soon. How long would this be going on?

Minho knocked carefully on the door to his father’s study, his heart pounding.

“Come in.”

He swallowed slowly, shoving the door open. His father was sat at his desk, his table piled with documents.

“You needed me?” He asked, voice quiet.

“You were supposed to hand out the Phantoms’ equipment today.”

Fuck. “I...well, I handed it over to Mr. Kim. He said he would-”

“Minho.” He turned around, rubbing his forehead, his face filled with exasperation. “Minho. You had one job. Oversee the Phantom processes. You’re the supervisor. You were supposed to be there, son.”

Minho let out a shaky exhale, looking down at his feet. “I know. I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time.” He promised.

“You better. Or I won’t pay heed to the fact that you’re my son. Now tell me, what was so important that you had to ditch official government business?”

Minho didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Fiddling with the ring on his finger nervously, he tried to come up with an excuse. But it was useless.

“That’s what I thought. Good night.” His father dismissed him with a disappointed sigh, turning back to his work. And that was that.

Minho left for his bedroom, blinking back tears of frustration as he climbed onto his bed. Taking the ring and his earrings off, he stripped to his underwear, burying his face in his pillow. He let his thoughts drift to you again, like they usually did this time of night. Usually he'd just be slipping into reveries and imagining you as his. Except this time, there was the tiniest bit of hope that you liked him back. He still couldn’t believe he’d kissed you. Fucked you.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face, despite it all. He really did love you, and he was willing to take his father's wrath over and over again if it meant he could keep you in his life.

Hyunjin let out a groan as soon as you close your bathroom door, rushing over to the sink as he felt his body burn up again. He didn’t know what was happening. He’d dug out the tracker in his wrist a while ago, but the overheating still hadn’t ceased.

Advanced android. Hyunjin let out a bitter chuckle. If only they knew. If only they fucking knew what the ‘royal android’ actually was.

He opened the fridge, the cool air calming him down. Ahh, that was much better. He let out a satisfied hum after a few minutes, feeling cooler. 

He turned around, wanting to make his way to your room to apologize for his earlier behaviour. It hadn't been his intention to flirt with you endlessly, to the point of annoyance. But now that he'd started, he found it hard to stop.

His mind replayed your moans and whimpers from before. He'd been telling the truth back then. Although he liked playing off his flirting as jovial, there was a small part of him that definitely meant every word. You were a beautiful woman after all, how could he not be attracted to you?

Consumed in his thoughts, he almost didn't see it coming. The punch to his face was sudden and powerful.

The force of it was strong, and so searingly painful he screwed his eyes shut as he gave out, slowly rocking back and forth before crashing onto the floor. Flickering lights, and a robotic whirr...the shock barely had enough time to sink in as he desperately tried to make sense of what his eyes were seeing.

Before he could, everything went black.

[idy-ll-ique]

Winter Baby.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Requested: Nope

Summary: Bucky and Y/N meet when he goes to her library for the first time.

Author's Note: Hi there!! Whew, that was a long hiatus... anyway, I feel like some of you might enjoy this; personally, I'm not a big fan of my old writing but since I've not written anything new recently (marvel-related), I don't have a choice. So enjoy!

---

Y/N POV:

It wasn't easy owning a whole library alone.

But for money and livelihood, anything.

That was my mindset, I'm Y/N. I owned a small library in Manhattan, New York. To give you a more detailed address, it was on the same block as the Stark Tower, where the Avengers resided. 

Customers swarmed my library frequently, it had been well-known for decades. The thing is, it was inaugurated by my grandpa. It was then handed over to my mom and now, after her retirement, I handled the shop with a few of my friends. I loved the library with my life. 

Currently I was sitting on my seat at the reception, a Kafka book in my hand. When I heard the bell above the door ringing, I groaned in my mind. 

"Welcome to Twice Upon A Time, how may I help you?" I drawled, without looking up. When I heard someone clearing their throat, I looked up. My eyes widened slightly but I smiled at the Kennedy assassin, also known as Winter Soldier, or White Wolf, or, Bucky Barnes. 

"How may I help you, Mr Barnes?"

I was alone in the library, my friends having gone to eat lunch. I kindly refused, because someone needed to stay at the library. 

"Please tell me where the Divergent series is kept, doll," Mr Barnes questioned politely with a friendly smile. I stood up and led him to the fiction shelves. He got whatever book he needed, put the money on the counter and left. He said he'd return the book within seven days. As he left, I stared at the back of his head. 

To be really honest, I had a crush on him. I genuinely had a problem, I think, falling for the wrong person. First, my school bully (yuck), then Loki for a brief amount of time and now Bucky. As soon as I had seen him on the news, I was enticed. Obviously, I didn't tell anyone about my infatuation with Bucky. They'd judge. 

Once, I saw him in a café with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, laughing and having fun. That was the day when I realized I had actual feelings for the guy. My heart involuntarily fluttered in my chest, snapping me out of my thoughts. I chuckled, shook my head and continued reading Kafka. 

Bucky POV:

I stared down at the book in my hand, which was suggested to me by Nat. It was the first book of a four-book series. I entered my bedroom, running a hand through my hair. 

As I sat reading, my mind wandered back to the small, cosy library, with the cute receptionist. I think she was the owner, I wasn't sure. She was famous in the area. 

I did hear a lot about the bookstore, everyone had something promising to say about it. That's what made me go there in the first place. Now I know why everyone said that 'Twice Upon A Time is a great place to buy books!' One round around the bookstore, I fell in love. 

The library held all kinds of books, from educational to adult, fiction, non-fiction, sci-fi... I shook my head and continued reading Divergent. 

Throughout the book, I couldn't get the owner's face out of my mind. Her Y/H/C hair, eyes as grey as mine, small figure, her curves, her clothes... whoa.

"Goddamn it, Bucky!" I groaned to myself, snapping the book shut. I stood up, deciding to go back to the library to ask her her name. If I didn't, I knew I wouldn't be in peace until I did.

And maybe ask her to coffee, suggested my mind. I agreed. The library was quite close by, it took me five minutes to get there. When I walked in, I didn't see her anywhere. A guy was sitting on her spot. "How may I help you, Mr Barnes?" he asked, smiling. "Uh... you know that girl who was sitting in your spot an hour ago? Where is she?"

"Oh, Y/N? Wait." He got up and disappeared into the back of the library. I stood where I was, Divergent still in my hand. My hands started to sweat. 

Why was I so anxious? Maybe because Y/N was so cute. The guy returned, Y/N behind him. "Hello, Mr Barnes," she greeted with a smile. 

"Hi, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something," I implored, glancing at the guy who was watching us with a smile. He got the indication and departed. 

"Anything," she mumbled, perplexed. "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to have coffee sometime," I chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. 

"Of course, Mr Barnes, I'd be honoured! Shall I give you my number, so you can contact me?" she asked with a cute smile after being momentarily stunned. I readily handed her my phone. She added her number in and gave the phone back. "I'll text you," I nodded. "Okay, Mr Barnes, have a good day," she called out as I turned to leave. 

"Bucky, please." I gave her one last smile and left the place. I went back to the Stark Tower, only to bump into Steve on my way in. "Hey Bucky, where have you been?" he inquired with a smile.

"Twice Upon A Time," I shrugged, holding up my book. "Oh, the owner of that store is a really sweet gal, do you know her? She's so polite!" he gushed. He knew her too? Damn. "I'm taking her out for coffee."

Hearing that Steve smirked at me. "Have fun, okay? She's awesome, I'll be the happiest if you two start a relationship," Steve wiggled his eyebrows. I gave his shoulders a push, laughing. "See you, champ." We did a fist-bump and he left the building. I went inside, straight to my room. 

I smiled to myself as I started reading Divergent again. This time, I didn't mind having Y/N's face implanted in my brain. I read the entire book in 5 hours. When I finished reading the book, I gasped. That was such an interesting book, I wanted to read the second part! 

The next morning I borrowed the second installation of the series, met Y/N, went home, read the book and finished it within a few hours once more. That happened until I finished reading the series. After finishing the series almost 5 days after I met Y/N, I finally decided to ask her out. I couldn't stop thinking about her, she was... attractive. 

Y/N POV:

“Jesus, fuck-” I cursed when my phone startled me. Why would someone want to call me at midnight? Sighing, I picked up the call. "Hello?" I answered, instantly recognizing the voice on the other end. "Y/N, hey, I was wondering if we can have that date tomorrow."

"Oh." I checked the calendar, "Sure. Tomorrow's Saturday anyway, the library is closed on Saturdays." He dramatically heaved a sigh of relief, which made me titter. "How about 8 pm, we meet at the restaurant down the lane?" he asked hopefully. "El Diablo? Sure! I love that place! Bye Bucky, I'll see you later!"

He ended the call and kept my phone away. I stood up and stretched, yawning. I turned the TV off, picked up my phone and went to my room. 

---

“Where are you, Buck?” I was waiting at the entrance of El Diablo for Bucky, dressed in a sweet, green dress. It reached my knees and it was strapless. I normally didn't dress like this, I felt uncomfortable. My friend, Anne said I looked beautiful and I trusted her, so... When I looked around again, I saw Bucky walking towards me, dressed in a suit. 

I almost drooled, damn, he looked so handsome. His hair was tied back, a few loose strands hanging around his shoulder. His stubble seemed too perfect to be real. His grey eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on me. A smile bloomed upon his face as he walked towards me. With each step he took, my heart fluttered. 

"Hi Y/N, you look beautiful."

He took my hand and pressed a kiss to it. Such a gentleman! I smiled as both of us walked into the restaurant, Bucky's arm around my waist. Half the restaurant turned to look at us. Their eyes widened, because what was the sweet bookstore owner doing with the Winter Soldier?  Bucky and I ignored the looks and sat down at a table. Water was served and two menus were placed on the table. I didn't even bother. 

This date seemed too fantastical to be real. Never in a million years would I have imagined I would be on a date with Bucky Barnes. Yet, here I was maintenant...

When Bucky was done with the menu I called the waiter over and placed our orders. When he went away, Bucky turned to me.  "You didn't even pick up the menu," he teased. I shrugged and crossed my arms, unfolding them with a blush when I realized they attracted his attention towards my accentuated... ahem...

"I have been here 2-3 times before, I know my favourite dish from here," I chuckled, playfully glaring at him when he smirked at my blush. Both of us were  chatting until our food arrived. We talked about our favourite book series as we devoured our food. His favourite series at the moment was obviously Divergent, while I was an avid Potterhead. 

---

After dinner, Bucky decided to take me back to my house. As we walked down the lane, a gust of wind blew, making me shiver. "Cold?" Bucky asked instantly, taking off his jacket. He placed the jacket over my shoulders and I thanked him. When we reached home, I turned to him. 

"Bye Bucky, I'll see you tomorrow."

I hugged him, kissing his cheek in the process. When he pulled away, both of us grinned at each other. He left. After the first date, Bucky and I hung out at the library a lot. Sometimes, he even bought Steve and Sam along, who were fun to hang out with, too.

Eventually, a few weeks later, Bucky asked me out again. This continued for 3-4 dates. As the 4th date ended with us standing outside the door to my house, Bucky turned to me. "Hey, Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

I froze and looked at Bucky, who was smiling at me, confident. “Wasn’t that already established?” I smirked, crossing my arms. “I thought so too, just wanted to make sure you knew.” I laughed loudly at his joke and a lopsided grin bloomed on his face.

My laughter abruptly stopped when he pulled me close to him, cupping the back of my head and holding it close to his shoulder with such intensity that I melted against him. When the hug felt too elongated, I tried to pull away. Bucky surprised me again when he gently pressed his lips to mine in a perfect kiss, according to me. 

I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms went around my waist, pulling me closer. “I wanna tell you something, don’t be mad,” he murmured against my lips. I hummed in a questioning tone, my mind still reeling in from the brilliant kiss.

“I love you. I know it has been only 4 months since we’ve known each other but I’m sure I love you. I’m not expecting you to feel the same way, but I wanted to get it off my chest. I really do love you, darling.”

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was flabbergasted. He loved me? Me, of all people? To be honest, I didn’t want to ruin this moment with unnecessary questioning, especially since I loved him back.

So I smiled.

“I love you, too, winter baby.”

“Never call me anything else ever again.”

“Deal, winter baby,” I chortled.

---

A/N: Please leave a like, it would mean a lot! Thanks for reading :)

[gills-corn]

Once there was a boy and a butterfly.

It wasn't a butterfly at first, of course - the boy picked up a lone caterpillar one scorching May morning and nursed it to adulthood. As it molted and grew wings and learned to fly, the boy played under the sun, showering in the sunshine and the summer rains.

The butterfly flew away, right out of a window and to the sky. The boy was outside, running around with a group of children his age, playing whatever their heart desired. He didn't even had the chance to say good-bye.

He cried himself to sleep that night, inconsolable. The next day, he's back on his feet after a friend gave him a cone of ice cream, as fickle as the summer day that shined down upon him.

He became just a boy, with no butterfly, but a boy who knows more about leaving and losing than the day ago.

The next years repeated the same way - a boy, alone in the universe, but bodies still orbited around him, people he knew loved him but he couldn't quite comprehend why or how. He had long forgotten is butterfly. People came and went - friends, classmates, family members - and he had learned how to cope. He had learned about the importance of them arriving, of them leaving, of them tracing a solitary mark on his life.

Still, the idea of having something you value so dearly, so tenderly is lost on him. But what does he know? He's sixteen and miserable and alone, not entirely friendless or lonely, but there's still a vacuum around him, warping around his from like a black hole.

"I don't think I'm capable of love," he had mentioned to his friend once, in the throes of drunkenness. There's a sad smile on his face, reminiscent of a boyhood not-so-lost but drifting away.

"You are. Everyone is," his friend answered, his eyes fluttering shut. He rested his head on the other boy's shoulder.

The silence rang through the boy's ears as other bodies slept around him, his friends that fancied themselves as rebels but didn't do more than sneak a few bottles of beers. He examined his friend's face and returned to his drink, his body thrumming.

He was nearly seventeen, crying in the bathroom, his heart threatening to burst out of his tight chest. A boy with no butterfly, no love to give, no best friend to hold onto, whether they're drinking, laughing, or exploring the blissful tragedy of teenage-hood.

He thought he knew how to say good-bye. He had practiced this all of his life - see you soon, hope you'll be okay and, in times of death, I'm so sorry for your loss. This was worse than death itself - it was something that was torn out of his life, like a page from a book, except the page was inked with memories he could never forget and things he wished he had said.

First there was sadness.

Then there was anger.

He tore out fistfuls of hair from his head. He threw away comic books they once shared, mixtapes they made for each other, notes passed around class, naughty and mischieveous and immature. He kicked his door and teared up because he stubbed his toe. He tore his curtains down and immediately repaired them, not wanting his mother to be more worried than she already is.

Finally, it was the numbness, the calm.

Everyone was too worried about him, too careful about the words they said. The hurricane had soon departed, he thought to himself, but everyone was afraid to start another one. He did not have the energy nor the time for it anymore. He had wasted enough time as it is. He had school to focus on, friendships he wanted to revive, apologies he had to give out.

He was trying to be a better person. But why did it feel like he's only making himself worse?

"He told me you thought you didn't know how to love," a friend told him. She blew a gust of smoke on his face from the cigarette she'd been smoking.

Something wrenches behind his ribcage. "Yeah."

"I'd say you were wrong," she replied. "You acted out because you love him. And you can't bear to see him leave."

"I know," he murmured. He raised his head. The familiar warmth of his friend's eyes, the slope of her nose, the crookedness of her teeth were all a gentle reminder of a childhood diminished but he hoped to cling onto it as much as he can. He tried to stop his voice from cracking as he added, "I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be. We're all upset. And sad. He's our friend since, like, forever. But the world goes on. If you don't catch up, you might just get left behind."

That was the thing he liked about this friend. She was never too gentle.

He was able to move onto seventeen without a hitch. His remaining friends helped him celebrate, throw a party, down a few shots. He made him realize that was able to love and he had been loving them since he knew them. And he knew they loved him back.

Seventeen felt new, fragile. Maybe he was just being overdramatic but he was getting closer to adulthood. He wasn't much of a child anymore, with overgrown limbs, unwanted hair and things he was not able to control, but the thought of moving to adulthood was too daunting. Sometimes, your past selves are the ones who leave and you must still know how to depart from them properly.

The universe goes on and he moves on. Slowly. But he's getting there. School was ending. The number of summers of spending with his friends was dwindling. Soon, there'd be university, jobs, apartments. A few years later, relationships, marriages, children would start to appear in his life and rubbed on his nose, whether he liked it or not. The future was vast, terrifying, like the expanse of the wide, deep space. He decided that he'd take on his last summer as a child, even though he had lost the title years ago.

He knew things left. He didn't always expected them to come back.

Everyone rejoiced at his best friend returning for the summer - everyone, that is, only his friends. They all were planning for their last hurrah before departing their own ways after the next school year. He didn't know how everyone just became happy and fun and excited as if his friend's loss didn't rip out a piece of his soul.

Summer was ruined. He should have known that days of fingers sticky with melted ice cream, skin smelling just like sunshine and jumps into creeks and pools were long gone. He stayed in his bedroom for as long as he can. He knew that with him coming back, he'd be leaving again.

"Are you avoiding me?" his friend asked him, lying side by side as they stared on the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

He was not able to get out of the end-of-summer sleepover. He did not want to disappoint his other friends and their powers of convincing were straight out of an telemarketer.

He breathes out, his heart rattling. "What do you think?"

"I'm sorry. I - I know you're still upset with me leaving."

"Well. That answers your question now, doesn't it."

"You can't hide from me forever. I can't handle it."

"Do you think I knew how to handle it when you walked away from my life?" he shot back.

Tears clawed at his throat and he felt something hot behind his eyes. He closes them, hoping to get out o this nightmare.

"I didn't have a choice. My dad got a promotion, my mom's unhappy with her job here - "

"You could have told me," he replied. His voice was quiet, pinched. "At least I could have prepared myself."

"Can we talk outside?" his friend whispered urgently.

The two of them stood up. They were both the same height now, all awkward limbs and unharnessed strength. His friend gleamed under the glow of the silver moon outside, his tears glossing on the tops of his cheekbones. He stretched his hand, beckoning him to come closer.

He had no choice but to take it.

That summer night was cold but everything else was bright. If they were seven years younger, they would have howled at the full moon and ecstatic that they had managed to be awake past midnight. Nostalgia gnawed through his heart like an unwanted termite. He clasped his chest as his friend sat on the grass, not minding the stains on his white pajamas. He sat beside him, listening intently to the silence.

"Do you still think you can't love anyone?" his friend answered.

"No, not anymore." He smiled. A little. "I realized that I actually love all of you. My parents. Even my little sister. I was just drunk and melodramatic."

His friend laughed quietly but in a way that was still distinctly his. "I get what you meant, though. Sometimes, I - I feel like there's just something missing and it makes you all hollow inside."

"But you still loved, right?"

"Yeah," his friend replied. "I have never felt more love. That was cheesy but it's true."

"You're right. Maybe truth is a little cheesy. Maybe we need a little cheese in our life."

"I am so, so sorry. I can't - I did not know what to tell you, really, that I was going to go."

"But you told Tom - "

"No, I meant you. It's just - just the thought of saying good-bye to you hurts. Hell, even physically. I did not want to lose you. Or anyone. But especially you."

"Well, you tend to lose people in your life. That's sort of how it works."

"But then I wouldn't know how to live."

"Don't say that. Losing people does not mean losing yourself, too."

His friend sighs. "I know. What I'm trying to say is - I didn't want to make you upset, disappointed, sad or whatever. I know what I did probably made you more like those things and I apologize. Really. It was selfish of me. I didn't want to think about you not being there right by my side."

"You were right." He sat up straighter. "I - I didn't know what to do with myself when you left. Losing people means losing a part of you, I know, but I never seemed to realize that you were such a large part in my life that it made me crumble."

"Remember the first time I gave you ice cream? We were like eight or whatever. It was from my savings from school. I wasn't actually full that time. You were just so sad and you loved ice cream so. . . I gave you a cone."

His eyes crinkled as he gazed upon his friend's open and vulnerable face. "My butterfly left the day before. Of course I was sad. But why did you do that?"

"You know how I always get you ice cream, right? You, only you. Always vanilla and chocolate in a wafer cone. Whenever you want one or whenever you're miserable, I give you an ice cream cone. Sometimes, there wasn't even any reason. I just gave you one."

"Yeah, but Kay and Rachel are lactose intolerant and - "

"I'm trying to say that you're special. To me. Ever since we met. And I can't - I did not know how to say good-bye. Especially to my favorite person."

They were grasping hands, sweat intermingling.

"I know. But we all have to, right? Eventually. But seems like I still need to learn that lesson."

"Why?"

"You're my favorite person as well and I - I can't bid you farewell for the second time."

"Well. We don't have to think about saying good-bye right now, you know. We can think of what we should be doing now."

"Like what? Sleep?"

"No." A beat passes, like a flap of a butterfly's wings. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

As their lips meet, bittersweet yet refreshing, filled with shed tears, unfurled emotion and whispered love confessions, they say hello and bid good-bye to each other again and again, like two butterflies floating in the air.

[plaidbooks]

May I PLEASE have a Sonny Carisi x reader fic where they're fake dating?! Thank you in advance my lovely ❤️

Undercover

A/N: What? Two Sonny fics back-to-back? That’s right! I love this trope too damn much, and I was done with the whole “home for the holidays” cliche, so this is different. Also, the second-hand embarrassment in the beginning killed me. Hope you enjoy, Karen, and thanks for the request @the-baby-bookworm <3

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1640

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

You had an arm wrapped around Sonny’s waist, his arm around your shoulders, as you walked through the park. You chuckled lightly, pretending he had said something funny as you both moved closer to the perp you were tailing.

“He’s heading for Alice,” Fin’s voice came through your earpiece. But that was the plan; Alice was the bait to draw out the man who had assaulted her. On a different trail, you saw Amanda stretching in her tracksuit, subtly watching the perp. You and Sonny moved closer, making sure Alice wasn’t in harm’s way, that you could grab this guy if anything happened.

And then, someone cut off your line of sight. “[Y/N]?? Hey! How are you?! And who’s this??” they asked. Your eyes focused, and you panicked; it was your cousin.

“Shhh! Abby, not right now,” you whispered, trying to look to see if the perp had heard any of this exchange. So far, it seemed like you were still in the clear.

“Is this your boyfriend??” she asked, looking Sonny up and down. He grinned nervously, trying to be polite, his eyes still trained on the perp.

Fin’s voice came over your earpiece. “What’s going on? Who is that?”

“Abby, look, this is a really bad time—” you started before she cut you off.

“He’s cute, though! Good job, [Y/N]! You have to bring him over for dinner though!” Abby was gushing, her voice getting louder and louder. The perp turned and looked over at the three of you, and you gave Abby a huge smile, playing the part.

“For sure! I’ll bring Dom over later…tonight work?” you asked, trying to just get rid of her now.

Sonny, sensing your plans, pulled you closer, kissing your temple. “Yeah, I’d love to meet some of your family, babe.”

Abby smiled. “Tonight sounds perfect! 7 o’clock work?”

“Yep! Bye now,” you said, just as the perp started walking down the trail again. You and Sonny pushed by your cousin, keeping on his trail. Sonny quirked an eyebrow at you, but you simply shook your head; you’d explain later.

 ********************

Thankfully, the run-in with your cousin didn’t blow your undercover, and you were able to apprehend the perp. But by the time you caught him, made it back to the precinct, interrogated him, and sent him to processing, you had completely forgotten about the encounter with your cousin in the park.

After filling out the paperwork for the arrest, you made a cup of bad, precinct coffee and downed half of it in one gulp, making Sonny chuckle as he watched.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

He grinned. “I’ve never seen anyone actually drink this sludge, let alone that much.”

You opened your mouth to reply but stopped when your phone chimed with an incoming text. Brow furrowed, you glanced at it, seeing it was from your cousin, Abby, reminding you to come over at 7pm. You let out a groan. “Fuck, I forgot about dinner at my cousin’s place!”

“Oh shit, I did too…have you told her I’m not actually your boyfriend? That we were undercover?” Sonny asked, leaning back in his chair.

You shook your head slightly. “Nah, Abby’s kind of an airhead. I don’t know if she even knows what the word ‘undercover’ means….”

Sonny was silent as he thought this over. “So…” he started. “Are we going undercover at your cousin’s place?”

You swallowed at what he was suggesting, touched that he would do this for you. There was no rescheduling when it came to Abby, no explaining things away. You’d have to go to this dinner, and you’d have to bring Sonny. Even if you did tell her you weren’t dating, she’d still insist you were, tell everyone in the family.

“Even if we did, this means my whole family’s gonna be asking about you,” you murmured, staring at your half-empty coffee.

“And if we blow off this dinner?”

Your cheeks burned. “Then the rumors Abby would spread would be a hundred times worse…and the family would still be asking about you.” You remembered the last time you were late bringing an ex over, and Abby not-so-subtly tugged the collar of your shirt down, looking for hickeys.

Sonny chuckled. “Well, I guess that leaves us no choice, now does it…honey?” He grinned at you, his eyes crinkling in that way they do when he’s amused, and you shot him a playful glare.

“I’ll owe you cannolis for a month,” you promised, and he laughed, shaking your hand, and sealing the deal.

 ******************

You and Sonny stood on the doorstep of Abby’s brownstone, waiting for her to answer the door after you knocked. “Thank you again for this,” you murmured, heart in your throat.

“Of course. We’re partners. I’d take a bullet for ya…or pretend to be your boyfriend for a dinner,” Sonny replied, making you laugh.

“Glad those are on the same level for you,” you rolled your eyes as the door opened.

“[Y/N]! Welcome! And Dom!” Abby greeted, and you furrowed your brow, trying to remember if you really called Sonny be his first name in the park. You normally referred to him by his last name only. Guess you were sticking with Dominick tonight.

Abby moved out of the way, letting you enter her place. “Thanks for having us over,” Sonny said, smiling.

“Nonsense! I’m happy to meet [Y/N]’s…friends,” she gave you a knowing look, and you grimaced. “She’s always so busy with work, I’m amazed she has time to date!” You groaned and Sonny chuckled good-naturedly. “So! How’d you two meet?”

 ***************

Abby’s husband came home soon after you had arrived, their two children with him. Then dinner was served. Abby never stopped asking questions, and to Sonny’s credit, he answered everything thrown at him—mostly about his family and life. He answered truthfully, neither of you really lying, even when asked “couple” questions. When asked how long you’ve been together, you were able to answer how long you were partnered at SVU. Having worked so close for so long, spending many days and nights together, meant you could answer pretty truthfully, even if Abby didn’t get that you weren’t really dating. Your only issue was catching yourself almost calling him Carisi, which only happened a few times, and you quickly corrected yourself. Otherwise, you answered everything perfectly. Except for one question, asked after dinner, when Abby was watching Sonny play with the kids.

“So, any talks about marriage?” she asked, sipping on her glass of wine.

You choked on your own wine, putting the glass down as you coughed. “Ah, no—not yet,” you sputtered.

“Well, you should get on that. I mean, look at him,” she said, gesturing at Sonny. One of the kids, the five-year-old girl, pushed his chest, and he dramatically fell backwards onto the floor, making both kids squeal with laughter.

You grinned at him; it was adorable watching Sonny with the kids. This wasn’t the first time you thought your partner was cute, but it hit…differently this time. Your cheeks burned as you caught yourself starting to feel…no. You stopped the thought right there; you were not falling for him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, finishing your wine. “Well, it’s getting late.” You walked over to Sonny, helping him up off the floor. He got up, pulling you close, placing a kiss on your cheek, and your heart stuttered.

“Ready to go home, love?” he asked, nuzzling his nose into your hair, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Yep! Let’s get out of here,” you replied, squeezing him to you before pulling away. “Thanks for dinner, Abs; it was delicious. Nice seeing you, too, Jake.” You hugged them both while Sonny high-fived the children, then said goodbye to Abby and Jake. Placing a hand on your lower back, he led you out into the night, heading towards his truck.

“Thank you again for tonight, Dom,” you said once you were far enough away from Abby’s place.

Sonny grinned at you, and you melted. Fuck, you really were falling for him. “Of course, doll. I had a lot of fun tonight, undercover or not.”

You climbed into the passenger side and Sonny slipped into the driver’s seat. He turned the engine on, but didn’t move to put the truck in drive, instead gripping and regripping the wheel nervously. “Listen, [Y/N]…would you, uh, like to go out for coffee with me sometime or something?” he asked.

You turned to look at him, dumbfounded. “Like…like a-a date?”

Sonny swallowed. “Y-yeah…I mean, if you wanted…. Look, just forget I asked—”

“I’d love to,” you replied, smiling.

He looked at you, eyes wide before he broke into a wide grin. “Okay, great. That’s…that’s great.” You both sat there for what seemed like forever, just grinning at each other like idiots. “Oh! I guess I should take ya home, huh?” Sonny asked, his cheeks going red.

You laughed. “That would be nice, yeah…. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, it has…but a good day.”

“A fantastic day,” you agreed, making his grin grow. You had butterflies in your stomach as you thought about going on a date with Sonny, your heart fluttering. Your heart full on stopped when he parked in front of your apartment, though, pulling you in for a chaste kiss over the center divide of his truck, his face beet-red after he realized what he did.

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Sonny said in a small voice, leaning back in his seat and looking embarrassed.

You smiled, leaning over and kissing his burning cheek. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.” He watched you leave his truck, waiting until you made it through your front door before driving away. You smiled to yourself, thrilled about going out with your partner, excited to wake up in the morning.