#secret third thing which I will probably reveal tomorrow or in a few days I just want to see if anyone will get it

[drawn-corrosion]

even if you don't get the reference I'm going for, there is still trixie with rick shades in their pocket to enjoy here. but hey! perhaps someone will know

[momentofmemory]

Rafael McCall & Controlling the Narrative

for @teenwolf-meta​ week, day three: close read

Rafael McCall haunts the first half of Teen Wolf. We don’t even know his name until the third season, but we know from the very first few episodes that Melissa feels strongly that they’re “much better off without him,” even in the face of open antagonism from Scott’s teachers about being a single mother (1x05).  When it seems like Scott is starting to act out in the second season, Melissa fears it has something to do with Scott’s feelings about his father (2x07). Once Rafael finally does appear, Stiles is openly antagonistic towards him (3x10). Perhaps most strikingly, Scott is snappish and disinterested around him (3x12), and after the sacrifice, Rafael’s presence comes close to sending Scott over the edge altogether (3x13). 

In 3b, we’re finally told that Rafael had left his family for a very specific reason, which the writing teases before it is revealed. When Stiles confronts Rafael in Illuminated, he threatens Rafael with the fact that he knows what exactly made him leave (3x16). Later, in De-Void, the Nogitsune taunts Melissa with this knowledge, too: “How are you going to hold up when Scott knows the truth? […] When he finds out why his dad really left?” (3x22). It’s an ominous set up, for an upsetting secret: Rafael’s drinking led to his son being seriously injured.

The way Rafael discusses what happens suggests that this incident was part of a much larger pattern of manipulation and control. 

The red flags begin as soon as the scene starts, because Rafael shouldn’t be in the McCall house at all. Despite being divorced for several years, Rafael still has a key to the house (3x17), which he uses as he pleases—even and especially when no one else is home (3x11). Scott is verbally upset by this, but Rafael sidesteps the issue by pointing out that Scott shouldn’t be there “either” (3x23). The ease with which Rafael forces Scott back onto the defense—equating Scott being in his own house with Rafael coming in uninvited—demonstrates how little Rafael respects Scott’s personal boundaries.

This disrespect isn’t limited to just physical impositions, either. Rafael doesn’t respect Scott’s time. When Rafael asks to talk and Scott tells him “now’s not a good time,” Rafael immediately disregards his wishes by just repeating “we need to talk” (3x23). Scott tries to bargain, asking if they “can’t do this tomorrow.” But that still isn’t enough for Rafael, as he replies with “That’s actually something I’ve been saying for a long time. Come here.”

It would be one thing if this were the climax of many attempts to discuss what happened, but that’s not the case. Although Rafael has had several scenes with Scott this season, he hasn’t tried to initiate any conversations with Scott—except to interrogate him about legal matters (3x12, 3x16, 3x17). And Scott’s not even being belligerent in this scene—he’s genuinely busy, and offers a time for them to talk about it later. That’s not enough for Rafael, however, because his response to Scott is about what Rafael has been doing, not what Scott wants.

Rafael controls the place and timing of the conversation, and then through his language, tries to control how it’s received. He begins by leading Scott over to the stairs, squatting down in front of it and using a clinical and professional tone:

RAFAEL: You see this? This indent in the floor? That was from your head. The night before I moved out, your mother and I were fighting. You came out of your room. I grabbed you by the wrist. You pulled back... And you fell. We watched you tumble down those stairs. You were out for probably twenty seconds. When you came to, you didn’t remember a thing.

The conciseness of the story suggests this is something Rafael has practiced: the version he’s told himself over the years, carefully pared down to the sparest of details. 

And the details are telling. Rafael’s primary tactic of control is to tell the story as if he had little agency in what happened. His attempt to slant what happened is broken down, roughly, into four parts:

1. The problem is made out to be not Rafael, but Rafael and Melissa. Rafael uses the phrase “your mother and I were fighting,” instead of “I was fighting with your mother,” and “we watched you,” rather than “I watched you.” This shifts the focus from Rafael’s actions and responsibility, equalizing the dynamic between Scott’s parents and suggesting Melissa was equally as involved.

2. Far more attention is paid to Scott’s actions than to Rafael’s. “You came out of your room,” “you pulled back,” “you fell,” “you tumble[d],” “you came to” and “you didn’t remember,” which makes Scott the most active person in the story, despite the reality that he was the person with the least amount of agency.

3. Rafael strips his own actions of context. “I grabbed your wrist” is the only statement Rafael attributes directly to himself, but gives no explanation for why he might have done that. “I grabbed your wrist” is said as simply as one might say “I grabbed a book,” except unlike a book, there is no reason for Rafael to have grabbed Scott. Scott was apparently just walking out of his room—that Rafael felt the need to physically restrain him suggests something deeper was going on.

4. Finally, after giving his account of what happened that night, Rafael ends with three lines:

RAFAEL: Your mom told me to be out by the morning. That was the last time I ever had a drink. And that’s why I left.

Once again, the first sentence frames Rafael’s sudden departure as Melissa’s fault, not the result of his actions. Then, instead of dwelling on any guilt or responsibility, Rafael follows up with a strange sentence: “That was the last time I ever had a drink.” While it could have been inferred that Rafael had been drinking, based on his history (3x18), this is the first and only time Rafael actually brings it up—and only to say that actually, he’s stopped now! This reframes the purpose of Rafael’s explanation: he hasn’t been apologizing at all, but rather he’s been presenting a case—as a defense lawyer might present proof of innocence.

This is why Scott rejects Rafael’s “apology.” Rafael hasn’t actually taken any responsibility for his past harmful actions, and if anything, has only shifted the blame further.

Since Rafael chose to present what happened as an accident, Scott responds by pointing out other accidents in the house. His last example is particularly relevant: “This used to be glass until I fell on top of it trying to catch a lacrosse ball from Stiles.” Scott was hurt playing lacrosse. Scott was hurt playing with Stiles. But all of those are still in Scott’s life—even the table that broke!—because accidents don’t disqualify something, or someone, from being involved.

Toxic patterns, however, do. The show leaves it ambiguous as to just how intentional Rafael’s actions were—as Scott challenges Rafael, “Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was worse”—but it was inarguably the last straw of a long buildup. While the stairs incident was likely the only act of physical violence, there are many ways to make people’s lives miserable. Rafael’s primary flaw, as demonstrated in this scene, is control. He disrespects Scott’s time, space, and desires, all for the sake of an apology he wishes to make—and then manages to not ever actually apologize.

It’s no surprise Scott tells him “See you at graduation, or whenever you decide to show up again.”

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely.  Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear.  “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel.  I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN.  They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern?  Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09.   You look like shit.  They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way.  Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy.  Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered.   Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram  you sent.  Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

[thefirstknife]

Sorry for the long ask, but as somebody who's recently been enjoying the tries revamp and the accessibility it gives to middling pvp players, I've been getting into the lore on the trials gear, and there's a lot of entries so I'm having trouble keeping track. I've mostly been interested in Sola, who only seems to come up a few times? She ends up torturing a guardian in the trials, looking for 'something inside them like in her.' It's interesting though, because the power she wields, (and seemingly seeks when Aunor catches her tracking an anomaly in arrivals) isn't described as darkness or stasis, but some kind of corrupted void light? I can't find mention of anything else like this, and I feel like there's lore entries I'm missing?

Anyways, Trestin, another trials guardian, gets killed unnecessarily viciously by Sola (I think, that lore entry mentions they're competing against Crimiq-5, who is on Sola's fire time, so this seems right) and later goes on to become obsessed with stasis, torture house salvation refugees as well as her own fireteam, and gets put down by Aunor as well. Is this a coincidence? Does Sola do what she does to Trestin because she sees the same temptation towards corruption? Or is it more direct? It almost seems like she passes it on, virulently, and I'm mainly wondering if that's something that has any other evidence when it comes to corrupted guardians. I figure you might know, I'm having trouble searching since some of it is trials gear, some isn't, and they don't all mention everyone's name

Took me a while to get the full info on this because I wanted to put all of the lore entries in order and they're kinda scattered around!

Okay, so, this story is told on Trials weapons lore. First batch was released in Season of the Worthy and then the sort of conclusion in Season of the Chosen. There's a minor update in Season of Arrivals on non-Trials gear (Temptation's Hook). The first batch of lore details a single Trials match between two fireteams.

One fireteam consists of Trestin, Yara and Sadhij. The other fireteam is Sola, Crimiq-5 and Katake. Roughly in some semblance of order, the lore on items is as follows:

The Summoner - This seems to be the start as it shows Trestin meeting up with her fireteam and going into the match. The one important thing to note here is that Trestin was apparently deeply affected by what happened on the Moon (during Shadowkeep and the discovery of the Pyramid) and seems to be resigned that the end is coming and that there's nothing anyone can do about it. It appears she was somewhat influenced by the Pyramid into despair and losing hope.

Astral Horizon - This is somewhere at the start of the match. Sadhij tells his teammates Trestin and Yara that he's going for one of the enemies (Katake). He charges with a shotgun and uses Thundercrash which completely obliterates Katake. No surprise there. However, at the end, there is a rifle shot and then silence.

Exile's Curse - This details the start of the match from the other team's perspective. We see the same event of Katake being Thundercrashed by Sadhij from the eyes of his teammate Crimiq-5 who warns Katake about being out of line of sight. Crimiq-5 witnesses Katake being obliterated.

Eye of Sol - Again from Crimiq's POV, he is standing in the back with a sniper rifle and he watches Sola attacking Trestin. He seems to be very distraught about this:

Sola had ripped through their previous opponents with off-putting ferocity, and Crimiq was ready for this to be their last match of the day. He looked over her through his scope. Sola's silhouette marinated in an eerie shimmer that distorted the air as she moved.

He shoots a warning shot at her position to keep the third opponent (Yara) in cover. Then he hears Katake's cry for help against the Thundercrash and aims there, killing Sadhij. That's the rifle shot at the end of Astral Horizon lore.

The Scholar - This moves us to Sola's POV, where it's described that she's torturing Trestin and telling her that she can feel "it" in her too. I assume that both Sola and Trestin were deeply affected by the Lunar Pyramid and were both in the early stages of corruption by it. Sola felt it in Trestin.

"So…" Sola's intent bit deeper, malleable claws that flexed against her prey's Light. They probed through blood and muscle to an umbral center. "…it's within you too."

After the torture incident, Saint steps in to end the match and reprimand Sola. He also reprimands Crimiq, but Crimiq says he doesn't want anything to do with Sola. This further angers Sola and she leaves, telling everyone they're "as good as dead anyway." Note the same kind of despair and loss of hope that Trestin exhibited even before she was attacked by Sola.

Tomorrow's Answer - This brings us a bit back to the final person who has a POV which is Yara who witnesses what Sola did to Trestin:

A violet shockwave pushed away the dust. Trestin knelt a few paces away, beaten. The Warlock bent her glowing hand into Trestin's chest plate, lodging a vortex grenade into her armor. Yara met her eyes and saw the Void overtake her. She did not hear the scream, or the splitting armor. She only saw flickers of Trestin break apart and scatter as the vortex ate away at her.

Sola lodged an entire vortex grenade into Trestin. Horrible way to die. Yara yells at Sola about Trestin not deserving that and Sola snaps back:

"None of us 'deserve.' It's about what you can get." The Warlock smiled and raised a hand of gnarled Void. "Brace yourself."

This shows how far gone Sola was. Definitely far more corrupted than Trestin. Presumably, Sola also finished off Yara in the match before it ended.

In Season of Arrivals, there's an update about this on Temptation's Hook. It's shown that Sola has been captured by the Praxic Order. The Praxics lead by Aunor know that Sola took another Guardian "to the outer system" and that they did not return with Sola.

I assume "the outer system" means Europa, but that's only because now we have additional information from Season of the Chosen. Since this is from Season of the Worthy, it could also mean that Sola and Trestin went out further into the outer system and met with the Black Fleet (the Black Fleet lurking at the edges of the system is mentioned in this lore). Sola also says some strange things:

"I learned the secret. The one your hounds have hidden away in that quaint little vault." Sola smiles red through split lips. "You're on the losing side."

"Do you think you have nothing to lose, or that I wouldn't take it from you? You're sorely, and soon to be regretfully, mistaken."

Sola spits in Aunor's face. "You have limits. You have masters." A twisted Light shimmers in Sola's hand as she moves to attack. "Enjoy hanging to death in your strings!"

This is probably referring to the presence of Darkness on Europa to which Sola and Trestin were either directly exposed OR they may have been told about it during their visit to the Black Fleet (depending on where they went exactly). It appears her Ghost was also exposed. Both Sola and her Ghost are contained by the Praxic Order: Sola killed and her Ghost disabled from resurrecting her.

The next, roughly chronologically would be The Messenger. Some time has passed. Aunor meets with Ikora about the problem of another corrupted Guardian who tortured Eliksni civilians, asking them about Eramis and how she accessed Darkness, as well as torturing her own teammates. It's revealed that the Guardian in question is still located on Europa and trying to access Darkness as well as that the Guardian's name is Trestin.

That leaves us with the final entry which is Sola's Scar. In it, we follow Trestin on Europa as she's nearing the Darkness obelisk, eager to get its power. She details how she betrayed her fireteam and what was driving her:

Over the radio, Lord Saladin's voice grew staticky: "Cabal incursion… Vex… up ahead." Without a word, Trestin's Ghost switched it off. There were others nearby to carry out the Iron Lord's orders. He wouldn't miss them.

She doubted anyone would—her ex-teammates least of all. She had betrayed them, or so Sadhij had screamed: "We're supposed to be the thin line drawn before the Darkness, you traitor!"

|| Thin indeed. So why not step over it? ||

Because they didn't have it in them. She checked. Cracked them both open and dug deep, just to be extra sure. But it wasn't there. That hunger, immense and buried, like the ocean under Europa's glacial crust. A riptide, undetectable from the surface, yet unrelenting in its pull. She never meant to betray anyone. She just wanted release.

|| Soon, you will have it. Soon, you will be freed. ||

She has brief memories of her fireteam, namely one of Yara's jokes. Darkness makes sure to tell her that such attachment is weakness. Just before Trestin reaches the obelisk, Aunor catches up to her and asks her to come quietly. Trestin disobeys and Aunor strikes her down with a sword.

I assume the name of the weapon where this lore is written, Sola's Scar, refers to the "scar" that Sola left in Trestin when she tortured her during the Trials match. Both Sola and Trestin seem to have been deeply affected by the Lunar Pyramid and it drove them to extremes which eventually led to both of them becoming corrupted and betraying the Light. It's interesting that in Sola's case, there's no Stasis involved: her Light was corrupted. Specifically her Void.

Not sure about Trestin and if she ever got Stasis and which other power and/or knowledge she was seeking from the Darkness, but either way the corruption of both of these Guardians came from the same source, entwined them together and eventually led to both of them being taken down by Aunor.

It's a really tragic story and the reason why I really like this type of lore about just some other Guardians and how they're experiencing the events we go through with in the game. Especially how it highlights just how much of an outlier the Young Wolf is and how things we do are really difficult or downright impossible for other Guardians to deal with. Both Sola and Trestin were victims of powers they could not handle.

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ hannah meets up with one of her close friends to catch up; alternatively: the fox and the quokka meet again

⇢ set in mid april 2021

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. feedback is highly appreciated!

Hannah shook her head fondly as she watched Yoonmi race down the hall towards the recording studio frequently seen on vlive. She and Yeonjun exchanged amused looks as the young girl excitedly entered the room, yelling the name of her older brother.

“Come on,” Yeonjun placed a hand on her back and sped their pace up, “or else Chan hyung’s gonna use us not being there as an excuse to stay longer.”

She scoffed at that, following Yeonjun regardless. “Please, he’d drop everything for Yoonmi anytime, and you know that.”

Yeonjun’s laugh was the only response she got as they entered the studio. The door opened immediately as they arrived in front of it, revealing Yoonmi dragging a chuckling Chan away to probably her manager’s car.

“Looks like they’ll be gone for a while,” Changbin laughed from the inside before nodding at her with a smile and turning to Yeonjun. “Let’s go before Wooyoung and Haknyeon decide to make us pay for being late.”

Yeonjun nodded and stepped out with Changbin, ruffling her hair on his way out. “See you in a bit, Hannah.

She glared at him a little before turning towards her friend who remained cleaning up the studio. They haven’t been able to see each other since their promotions overlapped. Or since the award shows, actually. “Hey, quokka.”

“Miss foxy,” Jisung playfully bowed at her before continuing to gather up his stuff, “long time no see. You hungry?”

“Always,” she playfully rolled her eyes at him, “or have you forgotten already?”

“Not when you and Yongbok have been constantly sending each other desserts. No cookies recently?”

“Yoonmi makes the best cookies, and she always sends some over to Chan hyung for you guys. Felix told me.”

The betrayed look he had on his face when he realized this made her laugh. It dawned on her that, though Chan may have told Felix to let the others get some cookies whenever they want, Felix must have kept it a secret. He loved Yoonmi’s cookies, so it was no surprise.

“He never told us!”

“Come on, let’s go eat.”

The two friends found themselves in the JYP cafeteria, food paid for with Jisung’s credits. He had a whole set of food in his tray, which was quite a drastic difference from her single bowl of salad. He frowned when he saw her tray.

“Just a salad?”

She shrugged. “We’re in the middle of promotions, so I’m dieting.”

“Nope,” he placed a plate of pasta on her tray and some extra side dishes, “your boyfriend and members are gonna kill me if I don’t feed you. Our food’s all organic, anyway. It’ll be fine. We’re sharing side dishes, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes but followed him to an empty table. They settled across from each other and began digging in. The conversation carried smoothly, as if they didn’t have a solid four or four months of not seeing each other. It switched from the food to normal catching up to preparations.

“Your comeback’s really good, by the way,” Jisung noted. “I listened to the whole album. Really good. You worked on lyrics, too!”

“Just a bit,” her tone was humble as she moved the salad around on her plate. “I thought it was fitting since it’s our first full album, so I did my best. Sorry for bothering you for help, by the way. I know you’re pretty busy with Kingdom.��

“Please,” he shook his head, “I needed the distraction. We were so caught up on preparing for the show, so I needed to forget it just a little.”

“How are you guys, by the way? I’ve seen your past few performances.” A teasing smirk made its way up to her face while she looked up from her food to meet his eyes. “I liked your cover of I’ll Be Your Man. Very impressive high notes there, mister main rapper. Very desperate.”

Jisung snorted and tossed a little sausage from their side dishes onto her plate. “Shut up, you know the performance is supposed to seem desperate.”

“What’s coming up? The collaboration stage, right?” She took a moment to recall the last episode’s ending. “It’s a shame that you guys aren’t working with The Boyz. You, Eric, and Sunwoo rapping together would have been cool.”

“You’re friends with Sunwoo?”

“We’ve met, but you already know I talk to English line the most.” She jolted up straight upon remembering something, startling Jisung into hitting his leg against the table. The boy curled in on himself a little, making her laugh. “Sorry about that. Did you hear? Changmin oppa invited me to co-host your sports day!”

That was the reason why she had been in a meeting the day before right after their schedules. She didn’t expect that she’d be brought straight to the company right after her schedules with NCT Dream, much less did she expect that she’d be meeting with a few higher ups and some Mnet staff alongside her senior for a cameo.

Jisung raised an eyebrow at her. “What? You’re coming to watch our sports day?”

“Co-host, but yeah.”

“This is gonna be so funny,” he laughed. “You know that, even if you have a boyfriend now, Juyeon hyung has an idol crush on you, right?”

“Stop!” Her hand went to her forehead in embarrassment. “Eric always mentions it whenever we talk, I swear.”

The smirk on her friend’s face sent a chill down her spine. “But there’s also Seonghwa hyung and Chani… Oh my god, man! What is it with you and these older guys, huh?”

“One more word out of your mouth, Han Jisung, and I’m telling Chan oppa that you had a crush on Yoonmi.”

Ah, yes. This short-lived crush her friend had on her other friend which amused her to no end every time he’d talk to her about how Yoonmi’s lyrics hit different, how her on stage persona is captivating, how she’s adorable in BTS content, or how her rap is unmatched by any other girl idols. Jisung, like many other fourth generation idols (and some from third generation) had fallen for the international sweetheart, and she made sure to tease him about it whenever given the chance.

Jisung groaned, “Of course I tease you about other’s having a crush on you, but you can’t tease me about people liking me.”

“Hey, if it means anything,” she began, “I used to like you the slightest bit back in late 2019 when we did those collab stages. Nothing much, it died as soon as it started, so don’t get too cocky.”

The slightly astonished look on her friends face made her remind him that it was a momentary thing rather than a prolonged crush. This, of course, didn’t stop Jisung from poking fun at her.

“Aye, I’m so telling your boyfriend,” Jisung laughed.

She gave him a pointed look. “Nothing is kept a secret in our group, and he’s in the same unit as one of the people most overprotective of me.”

The 00-liner wisely kept his mouth shut, making her laugh. A silence passed between the two before they silently agreed on not speaking about these infatuations ever again. She finished the last of her food before rummaging around her bag and pulling out a small bottle. It was something she didn’t use often, but prefered whenever she didn’t have to promote. Black nail polish.

“I brought this, by the way,” she mentioned as her phone started ringing. “I don’t know why you asked for it, but here you go.”

“Nice,” he took the bottle, “now answer your phone while I finish my food.”

The familiar face on her screen brought a subconscious smile to her face the moment she got her phone out of her pocket. It was her none other than her boyfriend, Liu Yangyang. She chuckled a little before answering the phone.

“Hey, Schnucki. I’m with Hannie right now. Jisung, say hi.”

She brought the phone closer to Jisung’s face, where he awkwardly greeted the boy on the other end of the phone. The awkwardness made her laugh and take it back. Maybe she should have waited until after he swallowed before making him say hi.

“Me again!”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Yangyang asked her with the slightest hint of concern in his voice. “Renjun told me you skipped out on the food your manager got you guys on the way home.”

“Hwang Injun, that snitch.” Her mumbling was easily caught by Jisung who snorted in amusement. She lightly smacked his arm from across the table then went back to her conversation. “I just ate dinner! JYP Entertainment’s special organic food is pretty filling, don’t worry.”

“Alright,” his voice sounded relieved. “How long are you gonna be there? Will you be back too late? You still have an early start tomorrow.”

She chuckled at her boyfriend’s questions. Ever since their jacket shoot, her schedule had been filled with preparations for NCT Dream’s comeback. Yangyang had been texting her good morning everyday without fail and constantly checking up on her to make sure she was still functioning properly somehow. For some reason, she found this endearing about him. He usually wouldn’t seem like that type of boyfriend, but he is.

“I’ll be here until Yoonmi finishes shopping for her future nephew and Yeonjun oppa comes back from dinner with the 99s. Hannie’s taking care of me, don’t worry.”

Jisung’s scoff from across the table made her send him a pointed look.

“Could you put me on speaker?”

“Hold on.”

One more warning look was sent towards Jisung as she placed the phone on the table. Jisung looked at her curiously before turning towards the phone.

“Yangyang?” he called out cautiously.

“Hi, Han,” Yangyang greeted. “I know we only spoke a few times, but I hope it’s not too much to ask to take care if Hannah?”

“No problem, bro,” the Stray Kids member nodded despite the fact that the WayV boy couldn’t see him. “We’ll just be here in the company, there’s a bunch of places to lounge in and a lot of food.”

There was a laugh from the other end of the phone. “Thanks for taking care of my pet fox.”

“Excuse me,” she interjected, making the two boys laugh, “I will sheer your hair off your head, you sheep.”

“Kidding! Anyway, Han, you’re Hannah’s friend, so I’m trusting her with you. As a friend, right?”

Jisung chuckled. “Of course. No need to worry.”

Hannah snatched up her phone and turned speaker off before the conversation could get any longer. “Is that it?”

“I’m at the dreamie dorm right now, so I’m expecting cuddles when you get back.”

A slight chuckle escaped her lips as she playfully rolled her eyes. “As long as you’re out of the dorms by 1:30am at the latest, okay?”

“Of course, babe.” The wink was evident in his voice, she didn’t even need to see him to know he did. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“See you later, Schnucki.”

With that, she hung up her phone and looked up to find Jisung looking at her with a teasing smile. “What?”

“You’re so whipped,” he drew out. “Honestly! The smile on your face says it all. It’s different from when you’re talking to your members or your other friends.”

“My smile?”

Looking back on it, Jeno did mention that there was something different in the way she looked at Yangyang. Donghyuck mentioned it as well while jokingly whining about her not giving him as sweet of a smile. Even Yoonmi told her that she sometimes catches Mark smiling at her the way Hannah smiles at Yangyang. Was it really that noticeable?

With a shake of her head, she picked up the black nail polish bottle once again. “What do you want to do with this?”

“Could you paint my nails?”

[rouiyan]

𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛 𝘖𝘍𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘍𝘐𝘌𝘓𝘋 [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

synopsis: we’re all sprinting towards one thing or another. the players to the ball, mark to his class, and haechan right to you.

✧ soccer player!haechan x (fem.) reader + best friend!mark ✧ high school au, best friends to loverz, inspired by heather (conan gray)

✧ genres : some fluff, some angst, some pining what’s new ✧ word count : 2.3k ✧ disclaimer : swearing

✧ author’s note — wrote this in ap stats, probably should have been paying attention instead bc i can't figure out how to do the hw for the life of me.

"did you see y/n today?" 

haechan thinks, by the sound of the voice, that it's mark who's speaking. he pulls the rest of the sweatshirt past his head, "no, did you?" haechan's grabbing for his socks, he swears he stuffed them in the front pocket of his backpack. "that's why i'm asking, idiot. she told me she would be here today." a tongue of frustration juts out from haechan's mouth, he hopes it just looks like he's agitated about his missing socks and not the fact that you always tell mark those things, always mark and never him. 

haechan is out of the locker room in seconds, sneakers slipped on without socks. he's adjusting the hood of the sweatshirt, tucking his locks under the material, when he sees you lingering by the bleachers. you smile sheepishly when you see the boy coming from the locker rooms, "somehow, i thought it started at four and i thought i got here early but your coach told me you guys just finished." haechan can't help but laugh, so that's why you weren't here, "and we won, too. did he tell you that?"

he's by your side now, seated, though his feet are planted on the ground while yours are swinging back and forth, "he did tell me that, congratulations haechan, wish i could've seen you score today." haechan tucks a lip under his teeth, now's not the time for him to be so obvious, not when it's just you and him. he thinks that yet, his stares linger on you for a little longer than normal, his fingers are fiddling with the ridges of the bleachers, and his cheeks host the brightest hue of cherry red. 

"hey, y/n, where were you today?" haechan's nose scrunches at an emerging mark, he really thought he could have the moment with you. mark approaches and sits on the other side of you. captain mark lee, haechan notes with shrewd annoyance, is wearing your sweater, his favorite of yours, the one with the worn polyester fabric that's pilling all over but still holds warmth snuggly. the one that haechan's been wanting to wear since day one. 

mark swings his legs as well and haechan watches as you point it out, giggling now that mark is trying to swing in sync to your own pace. "wanna come over? my mom's been asking you to come over for dinner," marks eyes are on you, haechan can see that much, but he also misses the way your own eyes shift to himself. and what haechan doesn't see, mark does, and his lip twitches into a knowing smile, "haechan, you should come too, my mom misses you."

the boy himself is already in over his head and passing up the offer is the only way he sees to escape the despair that comes with being a third wheel, "no thanks, i have a shit ton of homework to do today." your hum in response is mixed with an undertone of a sigh, one that haechan is too sidetracked to notice. he takes his leave, "well, i'll see you two tomorrow i guess."

you and mark sit in silence for the minutes after his leave, mark sneaking small glances at your ever-changing expression, an open book to all your thoughts. "next time, y/n, next time." 

well shit, maybe mark wasn't as clueless as you pegged him to be. 

in agitation, mark shoves the last of his books into his backpack, class is about to start soon and if he doesn't get going now, well then he might as well give up his perfect attendance, no tardy record. haechan leans against the locker next to his own, a seemingly bored expression on display to hide the inner rumblings of his thoughts.

"so how was dinner last night, did you guys miss me?" haechan's trying to come off as nonchalant, he hates it when he has to pry just to satiate his curiosities. mark shuts his locker, swinging his backpack across one shoulder, "uh, dinner didn't happen and no, i didn't miss you but i bet y/n did." haechan's left in confusion on all fronts, "what do you mean it didn't happen? why would she miss me- wait, why did you not miss me?"

"well y/n said she was busy all of a sudden, something like that. as for-" the bells rings, signaling the end of passing period, and effectively cutting off the answers to all of haechan's worries. marks eyes widen and before he can even catch the boy by his arms, to shake and spill the words out of him, he's already sprinting down the emptying halls. 

haechan sighs. he should be sprinting too but he's already late, might as well walk. the campus grounds are vast and he decides to take a stroll outside, the much longer way to his physics class. haechan is passing a few classes on his left, all of them filled with the chatter of students before a teacher begins their lectures, but there's one class that catches his eye. the window into the ceramics class reveals a clear view of you, eyebrows furrowed and trying to shape a little figure on the table before you. you've told him many times before that ceramics was your least enjoyed of all your courses, that you had taken it simply because you needed an art credit and while that might've been the reason you'd signed up, haechan can tell by the way you handle the little mold of clay, that you had stayed for much different reasons.

he thinks to tease you of it later but it's then during lunch where he stops himself because before he even so much as reaches the table your group frequents, there you are, showing the little figurine to mark, eyes glistening with pride and joy. "i think i did quite well this time, i even got praised." as haechan comes close, he sees the clay figure in full clarity for what it is, an ambiguous sitting shape with a heart cradled in its lap, lumpy in certain spots but emanating in the care and thoughtfulness with which it was made. 

haechan slides into the seat across from you. "look," you sound softly to him, holding out the little figure in both your hands, "do you like it?" haechan swallows thickly when he looks up from your hands to your eyes, he sees the way they light up, he hopes. wordlessly, he nods, a small smiles tugs at his lips. he likes it, he really does so he questions, "what inspired you to make it?" it's in the way that you immediately eye mark, and the way that mark immediately hides his oncoming giggle, that haechan relinquishes his hopes.

mark walks you to class after your lunch break that day, he's a grade higher but a thousand times dumber, you think. "are you insane? why would you laugh at that specific moment?" in between small giggles, mark does his best to provide a reply, "you should've just told him that he was the one that inspired you." smacking his elbow, you purse your lips, "but then he'd know!"

the older boy stops walking for a second and you're five steps ahead when you notice. you turn. "what now, mark?" he holds a mischievous glint in his eyes, "he'd know what?" now his eyebrows are making little squiggly lines by his hairline and you take a few steps back to drag him by the arm. flushing, you whisper, figuring he already knew as much, "he'd know i like him."

if mark is considered your best friend and potential crush, then what about him? possibly also a best friend, though he could only hope you would talk to him a bit more, spend a bit more time with him, make more conversation with him during breaks. potential crush was for sure out of the picture right? the way you look at mark, the way you share you everything with mark, objects and secrets and everything in between, haechan isn't sure he can say the same for himself. he texts mark anyways. tell y/n ur busy, something bout soccer.

haechan's out the door a minute and a half before the bell rings, his teacher yelling at him to come back. he doesn't give a shit. mark always walks you home, he always does and haechan is so fucking fed up with it because he himself lives closer to you so why should he get to walk you home. 

he arrives at the door to your last class just as the bell signals the end of the school day. there's only enough time for three deep breaths, panting breaths, before the door to your classroom is propped open and students begin filing out. 

"y/n, over here!" he calls. your eyes widen at the sound of his voice and you turn to it, a smile already lifting the corners of your mouth. you're walking side by side with him, and haechan starts leading in the direction of your locker, despite needing to go to his own. "i can walk you home today." you turn your head to him, "what do you mean? i usually walk with-"

"mark, i know," he says it with a disclosed derision, "he's busy, had to go talk to coach or something, i don't know. but i can walk you, plus my house is just two streets down, remember?" he watches in anticipation as you retrieve your phone from your bag. his eyes do their best to peer over and he sees your lockscreen light with a notification from mark. "oh, yeah he said he's busy with soccer stuff." haechan's lip quirk in victory, his plan unfolding itself into perfection. 

"can we go to my locker first though? i need to get some stuff, and we're on the way." he nods as if it wasn't in his intention to head in this direction and for that reason. he merely disregards the need to go to his locker. who cares if he has to bring a whole ass chemistry textbook home if he gets to go home with you. 

it isn't until he's at your front steps that he musters up the courage. you're in the middle of keying in the pin numbers to your door pad when he speaks up, "hey y/n?" you give a hum in response, messing up the last two digits after hearing him voice your name. you abandon your attempts, turning to look at the questioning boy. "would you like to come watch my match next week?"

you take a step down so that you're two above from where he's standing, now the same height as him. frowning, "of course. i'm going to see you and mar-"

it seems that haechan really doesn't want to hear that name come from your mouth today because he interrupts you yet again, "yeah, but i'm asking if you'd want to come to watch me." your lips part and shut in search of what to say. haechan nudges a little further, "i want you to come watch me play, would you want to?"

you release a breath, biting down a smile, you manage a nod within all your flusteredness. your voice, a bare peep, "i want to," gives haechan all the courage he needs to grab one of your hands to give it a little squeeze before muttering a, "see you," and taking his leave. haechan's turning the corner out of your driveway when he sneaks a glance before the fence blocks his view of you. his heart hurls at the sight of you, still on your front steps, face buried in your hands. even from all the way here, the bright red flush of your cheeks can be seen through your fingers. 

no one knows why that one boy on the field is scoring goals left and right. no one knows except you and him. from the moment haechan saw you on the bleachers, the other team was done for. it isn't even about impressing you anymore, it's not about making you proud. it's not a crush, it's these stupid feelings that never go away, never fade with time, or any amount of effort, at least, not in the knowledge that you are equally his as he is yours. it's not a crush, it's the sickening feeling in his gut when he sees you with someone other than himself, with mark, when he sees that sweater on mark instead of himself. it's not a crush, it's the way he feels the need to be with you all the damn time, the lingering feelings from whenever you leave his side that tell him that moments spent without you would be so much better if you were just there. haechan moves on the field with full conviction that it's not just a crush, it's love.

and so as the last whistle of the game blows, their team securing the win with haechan's last goal, he runs, no sprints, straight off the field to where you're seated in the stands. he brushes past all the people with hushed apologies and it's only when he's right in front of you does he realize how frenzied he likely seemed. he doesn't mind for more than a second though, because you've stood up and laced your arms around his shoulders, fingers on the back of his neck. he embraces you back and the kiss he gives to your cheek is something that just feels so natural and close to home. his forehead is on yours when he asks, his voice a bare minimum, "y/n, will you be my girlfriend?"

it isn't you that answers, rather it's a mark lee with a loud, "FUCK YEAH." 

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — hey anon babe who requested this. apologies for making it fem. reader, i know you didn't specify. if you would like me to reupload with gender neutral reader, then send an ask and i'll be more than happy to. ♡

[electrictoes]

People Like Sunlight

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Appreciation Week

Day 7: Secrets (AKA another excuse for a “how the squad find out” fic)

Read on AO3

The Saturday morning trip to the zoo is long belated - Noah and Jesse have been asking to go for months but with one thing and another - Elliot Stabler crashing back into Liv’s life, Amanda’s father stumbling back into hers - they’re only now finding a day when they are both free from both professional and social obligations.

They meet at the entrance to the zoo, Noah calling out when he sees them approaching. Amanda’s got Jesse’s hand held tight in hers to keep her close by; Sonny has Billie on his shoulders already, and Amanda’s sure he’s going to regret telling Amanda not to bother with the stroller, that he’d carry Billie when she got tired, but Billie’s having the time of her life, shouting Noah’s name when she spots him from her vantage point above the heads of the crowd.

Liv greets Amanda first; a hug for Jesse and a wave to Billie, “I didn’t know you were joining us, Carisi.”

“Is that okay?” Sonny asks.

Liv smiles at him, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t mean to crash your day, I’ve just been spendin’ a lot of time with Jesse an’ those animal books Noah gave her. I just wanted to-”

“I thought it’d be nice for the girls to have both their godparents here,” Amanda cut in when she spotted a question in Liv’s expression - most likely focusing on a lot of time. “And he’s carrying Billie, so I don’t have to.”

Liv nods, “It’s fine, Noah was already feeling a bit outnumbered.”

“I wasn’t,” Noah protests, but he’s grinning, “Hi Uncle Sonny!”

Sonny lets go of Billie’s right leg to give Noah a high five, then ducks his knees so that Billie can do the same - it’s endearing; Amanda loves the way Sonny is with the girls, but he’s been this way with Noah for just as long, and it’s always brought a warm feeling to her stomach, one she didn’t have a name for until recently.

By early afternoon Noah and Jesse are grumbling about their legs hurting - Billie is yet to walk anywhere so she’s doing just fine, although Sonny definitely looks like he could do with a break even if he won’t admit it - so they stop for a picnic. Jesse and Noah chase each other around the grass once they’d finished eating, Billie has dozed off with her head on Amanda’s leg and Amanda strokes a hand gently through her hair as she sleeps.

They chat quietly about their plans for the rest of the weekend, about their day so far, about the weather; it’s nice, spending time just relaxing together, the sounds of the children’s laughter making its way back to them.

After about fifteen minutes of chasing each other, Noah and Jesse return to their picnic blanket, Jesse crashing into Sonny and reaching for her water bottle while Noah sits next to Liv. Once they’ve caught their breath Noah looks over at Sonny, “Hey Uncle Sonny?”

Sonny turns to Noah, his hand on Jesse’s back, steading her as she takes a huge gulp of water, “Yeah?”

“Can you come to our house and make pancakes for my breakfast tomorrow?”

Sonny’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as Liv shakes her head at her son, “Noah, that’s not really something you can expect Uncle Sonny to do.”

“But he went over and made pancakes for Jesse this morning,” Noah protests.

Sonny resists the urge to look at Amanda as he stumbles out an excuse, “Well, only because we were-”

“He didn’t come over for pancakes, Noah,” Jesse says, turning onto her back and leaning against Sonny, feet digging into the picnic blanket.

“You said he made real pancakes not from a box.”

“He did!” Jesse yells, sitting upright and ignoring Amanda’s reminder that Billie is sleeping, “But Mommy and Uncle Sonny had a sleepover first,” she adds.

Noah’s eyes go wide and he turns to look at his mother, but Liv isn’t giving anything away.

“Hey,” Amanda says, “Why don’t you guys go over and see the sea lions again - let Billie finish up her nap.”

Jesse, who has no idea what she’s just revealed, jumps happily to her feet, but Noah - who at nine years old realises that this is kind of a big deal without understanding why - is reluctant. He wants to watch how this unfolds.

“Go on, Noah,” Liv says, “Jesse’s too little to go by herself.”

The three of them sit in silence as Jesse tugs Noah down the bank towards the sea lions - three pairs of eyes on the children and none of them on each other.

“I think spending time with Jesse and Billie is good for him,” Liv says, and then she turns to look at them both, “So, a sleepover?”

“Well, it got late an’-” Sonny starts, but Liv fixes him with a look.

“Don’t lie to me, Carisi,” she says, taking a sip from her bottle of water, her eyes drifting between the two of them.

“It’s still new,” Amanda admits, reaching over to place a hand on Sonny’s knee. “It’s not a secret, we’re just-”

“Not advertising it?” Liv nods, “Well, whatever the two of you do in private is your own business,” she says, “But if it gets serious, then-”

“It is,” Sonny interjects, resting his hand on top of Amanda’s, “It’s serious. And we will do whatever we need to, work-wise.”

“I’m really happy for you both,” Liv tells them.

Sunday morning is more chaotic than usual this week. They’re going out to Staten Island for their first official Carisi family gathering and Amanda is nervous enough without her children running rings around them both. The girls had chosen this morning to sleep until a reasonable hour for the first time in their lives - meaning that Amanda’s assertion they didn’t need to set an alarm was proved wrong - and she already feels like she’s two steps behind. Jesse has changed her outfit twice, and Amanda has given up trying to brush her hair; she leaves her in the girls’ bedroom choosing which jacket she’d like to take and seeks out her youngest who had slipped out of sight while Amanda was persuading Jesse not to select a third t-shirt - Sonny’s escaped the chaos by taking Frannie for her morning walk; no little shadows accompanying him today because no one is ready to leave the house.

She finds Billie in the living room, crouched down behind the couch and looking very suspicious.

“Billie? What are you- is that Uncle Sonny’s phone?” Billie has Sonny’s phone gripped in her sticky hands, she’s grinning down at and doesn’t look away until Amanda tries to take it from her.

“Billie’s,” she says, gripping the phone tighter.

“Give it to Momma, please,” Amanda tells her, a firm look on her face which actually works for once; Billie releases her hold on the phone just as Amanda sees the video filling the screen, “Oh- Chief, I-”

“Good morning Detective Rollins,” Garland says, smiling at her, seemingly unconcerned by having a conversation with her two-year-old at 10am on a Sunday.

“I’m so sorry,” Amanda said, “Did Billie call you? I don’t know where she-”

Before Amanda can finish her sentence, she hears a key in the lock, the sound of Frannie’s paws on the wooden floor, and Sonny’s voice sailing down the hallway towards her, “Hey, Rollins - do you remember me puttin’ my phone down last night?”

“It’s here,” she says, but before she can warn him that she’s got Garland on a video call right in front of them he’s pressing a kiss to her cheek as he reaches for the phone, his eyes going wide when he realises.

“Chief - I didn’t- everythin’ okay?” Amanda ducks away, leaving him with the phone in his hands; she picks up Billie before she can cause anymore chaos and carries her towards the bathroom to try and rid her of the sticky residue on her hands and face.

Sonny joins her in the girls’ bedroom a few minutes later; she’s brushing Jesse’s hair back while Billie runs in a circle around them. He gives her a reassuring smile, “He just wanted to check on somethin’ for the Dyer case, Billie must’ve answered it, probably didn’t even mean to,” he tells her. “And he, uh- he said not to worry about Billie, Abby used to be grabbin’ at phones and stuff all the time. He gets it.”

Amanda finishes tying Jesse’s hair back and turns to look at him, “And?”

“He didn’t say anything outright about, uh, us. He didn’t ask and I-” Sonny stops, looking down at the phone still in his hand, “Oh.”

“What?” Amanda asks, standing up and walking towards him, avoiding Billie’s invisible running track.

“Email from Garland,” he says, turning his phone towards her once he’s opened the email - the subject line is Disclosure Paperwork and there’s one file attached.

It has been the worst Friday night Amanda has worked in a long time - she had been ready to clock off at midnight; head home and slip into bed next to Sonny; he’d let her lie in a little in the morning, tell her to get some more sleep while he got up with the girls. But a call came it at 11:25 about a missing foster kid, and now it was nearing 3am, she was exhausted down to the bone and emotionally drained - and that was pretty good shape compared to Kat; equally worn down, but with a split lip, a black eye and shaking hands to go with it. Amanda had been two steps behind her walking into that room, and she’d been quick to take down the perp, but the shock of the violence combined with the sight that greeted them when they looked up - it was enough to bring the most seasoned detective to their knees.

As they grabbed their things at the precinct, Amanda found herself watching Kat, her stiff movements, her quiet, lost gaze. She knew that look, and she knew what came with it, “Where are you going now?” she asked.

“Home.”

Amanda frowned, “Is Celine still out of town?”

“Yeah,” Kat nodded as they walked towards the elevator together, “She’ll be back on Sunday night.”

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Amanda said, protectiveness coming over her.

“It’s fine,” Kat shrugged, “I’m not going to show up at my parents’ house in the middle of the night.”

“Come back to mine,” Amanda said - it wasn’t an offer. She’d worry about letting Kat into the spaces of her life, her relationship, that she’d been keeping quiet another time; her priority right now was keeping her partner, her friend safe - she hadn’t been quick enough to prevent the physical injuries, but she’d definitely sleep a little better knowing that Kat wasn’t at home on her own.

“You’ve got kids to worry about, I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Amanda said firmly, her hand gently on Kat’s arm stopping her from walking away, “Look, we’ve got to look out for each other. You know how many times I made Carisi sleep on my couch when we were partners?”

Kat smiles at that; probably picturing Amanda forcing Carisi into her apartment after a tough shift. It was never that difficult with Carisi though - suggest dinner, time with the girls, and he’d always say yes.

“Alright, okay,” Kat gives in as the elevator arrives.

“It’ll be loud in the morning,” Amanda warns her, “But it’s better than being alone with your thoughts.”

She slips into bed later than planned; she’s set Kat up on the couch, told her to knock if she needs anything during the night. Sonny rolls over almost immediately when she touches a hand to his bare arm, and he gives her a sleepily smile, “You’re back.”

“Hey,” she whispers, “Keep you voice down; Kat’s here.”

He frowns in confusion, “Everythin’ okay?”

“Tough day - night,” Amanda tells him, and his arm comes around her in comfort, “Better she’s not alone.”

“Course,” Sonny says, pulling her little closer; he knows what that’s like. He glances up towards the door, “Do you want me to-”

“What? Sneak out the fire escape?” she shakes her head, smiling at his ridiculousness, “No, we’ve got a few hours before the girls are up, we can figure it out then.”

Amanda has slept maybe three hours when Jesse comes hurtling into the bedroom without knocking - they’re working on that - and rushes over to the bed, speaking at a volume far higher than necessary, “Mommy, Kat’s on our couch!”

“I know, baby,” Amanda says, reluctantly opening her eyes to see her five-year-old leaning in inches from her face, “She slept over. Don’t wake her up.”

“I wanna watch cartoons,” she protests. Sonny reaches for his phone on the nightstand and leans over Amanda, waving it sleepily at Jesse.

“You can watch on here,” he offers.

Jesse grins, “Can I get in bed with you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, clambering over Amanda’s body to wiggle into the small space between her and Sonny.

“Just don’t call anyone,” Amanda says as Jesse takes Sonny’s phone.

Amanda doesn’t go back to sleep - the cheery cartoon sounds coming through the phone speaker keep her on the edge of wakefulness, but some time passes before she hears Sonny and Jesse whispering to each other.

“But the sun has been up for forever,” Jesse is saying, her negotiation head on. Too bad she’s trying to out manoeuvre a prosecutor.

“That’s because it’s summer,” Sonny tells her, “Mommy and Kat got back very late last night so we’ll let them sleep a little more first.”

“But I don’t wanna stay in bed.”

“Okay,” he says, and Amanda smiles to herself, knowing Jesse definitely thinks she’s winning this argument. “You can stay here and watch cartoons on my phone, or you can come with me to walk Frannie.”

The bed shifts beside her and Amanda opens one eye to see Jesse wrapping her arms around Sonny’s neck pleadingly, “But I want to watch TV in the-”

“Nice try,” Sonny says, tickling her sides until she lets go. “That wasn’t one of the choices.”

“Fine,” Jesse says, with no small amount of drama, “Let’s go for a stupid walk.”

“Jesse-”

“We don’t say stupid,” Jesse sighs, “Sorry Uncle Sonny.” She climbs over Amanda to get out of the bed, creeping out of the door in a way she probably thinks is quiet.

Sonny presses his lips to Amanda’s shoulder as he climbs out of bed, “I’ll make it a long walk. Want me to take Billie too?”

“If she’s awake,” Amanda says gratefully, leaning up for a proper kiss before he gets dressed.

The apartment is quiet, but Amanda still can’t get back to sleep - she heard the door go, Sonny and the girls leaving as quietly as he could get them to, but sunlight is streaming in through the curtains and she’s too awake now to drift off. She gives up after ten minutes and goes to take a shower. On her way back down the hall she hears the sound of her old coffeemaker coming to life, and walks into the kitchen to see that Kat’s awake; the bruise on her eye is purpling but her lip looks less swollen than the night before, “Good morning.”

“Hi I was just making a coffee-” Kat gestures to the machine, she looks a little uncertain, or maybe that’s just the tiredness seeping in.

“It’s fine, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks for letting me stay, it was good not to wake up in an empty apartment,” Kat says, taking a second coffee mug and holding it up to Amanda who nods.

“Any time,” Amanda assures her.

Once they’re both sat in the living room with their coffee mugs in their hands, Kat looks over at Amanda, a smile on her face, “So, I saw something interesting this morning.”

Amanda bites her lip, preparing for what comes next, “What was that?”

“Counsellor Carisi… creeping out of your bedroom,” Kat looks very pleased with herself as she takes a long sip of her coffee, waiting for Amanda’s response.

Amanda doesn’t see any sense in denying it, “Yeah, you probably did.”

“Don’t worry,” Kat says reassuringly, “I’m not going to say anything to the captain.”

“It’s fine,” Amanda waves Kat off, “She already knows - we disclosed two weeks ago, we’re just not advertising it.”

Kat’s eyes go wide at that, “Wait, what? I never- well, you two have always been kind of,” she shrugs, “At least since I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” Amanda smiles, “We kind of have.”

Amanda knocks once on Sonny’s office door before pushing it open, “Hey Counsellor,” she says, a smile just for him as she slips into the office.

“Hey Detective Rollins,” Sonny says, a smirk on his own lips.

She crosses the room and perches on the end of his desk, “Work call,” she tells him, but she isn’t in any hurry to rush him along.

He leans back in his chair, closing the case file he has open and looking up at her, “What do you need?”

“A warrant for Delugo’s phone records,” Amanda tells him - it is the primary reason for her visit, although she probably could have asked him over the phone, waited until he dropped the warrant off to see him. She likes finding excuses to come over here though, to see him in Counsellor Carisi mode in his own office, even with the mismatched paint and dented filing cabinets. That isn’t new with the change of their relationship - she’s been looking for reasons to swing by the DA’s office ever since he left SVU.

Sonny knows that, knows full well that if it were any other ADA she’d have just phoned, “Alright,” he nods, leaning forward, his face much closer to hers, “but it’ll cost you.”

“Oh, is that so?” Amanda asks, fingers tracing up the tie she’d watched him put on earlier that day, “What’s the fee?”

“Hmm, I think we can negotiate something-” he says, leaning in until his lips are hair’s breadth from her own. She closes the gap without hesitating, taking his bottom lip between hers as she draws him close.

They’re interrupted by the door opening, and a familiar voice groaning at them, “Oh no. Not today.”

Amanda pulls back from the kiss, turning to look at her sergeant over her shoulder. “Fin,” she grumbles, “Don’t you knock?”

“Door’s open,” Fin says, “Didn’t realise it was getting all R-rated in here.”

Sonny rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair, “It was just a kiss, Fin.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Fin says, hands up, “I don’t know anything.”

“Everyone else already knows,” Amanda says, enjoying the way his expression changes. She is kind of touched that he would have been willing to deny all knowledge if she and Sonny were carrying on a secret relationship though.

Fin frowns at being the last to know. “Since when?”

“Your wedding,” Amanda smiles, “Not wedding.”

“Damn,” Fin shakes his head, “You’re welcome.” He steps fully into the room, holding out a manila folder for Sonny to take. “Liv asked me to drop that off on my way to the courthouse.”

“Thanks Fin,” Sonny says with a nod.

As Fin backs out of the office Amanda stands up, moving around Sonny’s desk, “I better get back. I forgot Fin was in court today.”

“I’ll let you know once I’ve got that warrant,” Sonny says; he’s not keen to see her go but they’re balancing this personal/professional life thing pretty well on the whole - and it’s easier saying goodbye when you know you’re going to be going home together.

“I’ll owe you that fee,” Amanda says, enjoying the way his expression changes as she glances back at him over her shoulder. She knows he’s watching her go; he’ll keep his eyes on her until she’s out of sight and then he’ll pick up his pen and get back to work - a smile still lingering on his face.

Summer’s drawing to a close - afternoons like this one will fade away, replaced with the dim light and cool breeze of the Fall. It’s been the best summer Amanda has had in a long time - for a lot of reasons, but chief amongst them has been letting herself have something she’s longed for since she was a child - the genuine love of a man who she loves right back, her children’s laughter filling their daily lives, friends who have become family around them and there for them.

Before summer ends and Jesse, Noah and Abby go back to school, Garland and his wife have invited them all over for a backyard barbecue, and it’s the first time they’ve all been together outside of work since the not-wedding - the first time she gets to walk into a space filled with their friends, her fingers slotted neatly between Sonny’s.

Jesse and Billie raced ahead of them through the house and into the backyard, chasing the sound of Noah’s excited yells; Amanda and Sonny follow Lamai out to join them; the sun is warm, the scent of good food wafts across the yard, music’s playing softly in the background. The children are huddled together at the bottom of the yard, and from the looks of Billie’s face they’ve already managed to sneak some cake from somewhere.

Sonny releases her hand, a kiss to her cheek before moving to where Fin and Stabler are standing near the grill. Amanda takes an empty seat next to Liv, turning to greet her friends - they’ve all got stupid smiles on their faces and she laughs, shaking her head, “What?”

“Nothing,” Liv says, “It’s nice. Seeing you two like this.”

Amanda bites back a comment about Stabler’s presence - she knows Liv is genuine and she wants to embrace it - so she just nods, leaning back in her chair as the conversation returns to its earlier topics, her gaze moving between Sonny and the children - and then to Sonny and the children when he abandons his spot by the grill to check up on them; within seconds he’s on the floor, a pile of kids on top of him as he dramatically begs for mercy and Amanda has never been more in love with this ridiculous, wonderful man.

He catches her eye across the yard and gives her a wink; yeah, she’s definitely in love.

[muse-oleum]

The Flower Shop, part 3

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Fem!OC

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; 

Hey folks! Here’s the third installment of my series. I hope you enjoy it! We’re getting into it, finally. Also, I’ve just added another prompt list that you can find here, go give me some inspiration!

Word count: 1.7k 

Warnings: none 

The camelias shivered in the evening wind. By their place on the windowsill, they overlooked the entire room, with its large bed, desk and the man sitting there. 

Harry’s books and notebooks had all been lost when his house was bombed to the ground, so he’d had to start again. Over the course of the past few weeks, he had purchased several anthologies and was still looking for new publications on the subject of entomology. 

He missed his old notebooks, relying entirely on the scribbled pages of the battered pad he’d used during his time away. 

Harry rarely referred to his time as an amnesiac entomologist as anything else except his “time away.” He was still grappling with the strange sensation of having recovered his life but he wasn’t so sure now, after so many months wishing for freedom to go find his butterflies, which life he wanted to lead. 

Kingsman had been his home for decades, ever since he’d left the army to become a secret agent. But before that? He’d been so invested in becoming an entomologist that it almost surrounded him in a shroud of wing dust for the rest of his career. His home was full of them; his head was full of them; and his heart was full of them. 

None of his friends had ever understood his passion for the small insects. To be honest, Harry himself did not understand it fully.

His father had been very fond of gardening, and his mother never allowed him to squash any insects he found in his room. Even if it was the biggest spider in the world - at least to the eyes of a little boy - she would just pick it up in a tissue and let it free outside. He had always supposed his interest came from them. But now, looking back on how he had cleaved to his ephemeral friends, he wondered if the root for his interest did not run deeper. 

Perhaps he was fascinated by their transience? The manner in which their sense of purpose carried them to their death? He envied that. The whole of the animal kingdom, except humans, seemed to have a purpose. Harry had lost his and didn’t know how to regain it. 

Sighing, he turned off the nightstand lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Before falling asleep, he remembered his promise to Rebecca to come fix her garden shed. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. At least, he had that to look forward to tomorrow. 

Monday ----, 9 a.m

The chime of the doorbell accompanied Harry’s entrance into the flower shop. At the end of a cold February month, the sight of so many blooms was a welcome start to his day. 

“You’re an early riser!” 

Rebecca stood at her cluttered counter, snipping twigs off small branches. Harry watched, strangely fascinated, as she arranged them in an elegant bouquet. She seemed to know just where to place them. 

“It’s for a wedding,” she said, matter of factly. “Apparently, the bride is fond of forest weddings and decided to go for a woodland theme.”

“A forest wedding in February? Good luck to them.”

Her singsong laugh echoed through the shop. 

“Yes, the groom seemed rather resigned, poor chap. Let me just finish with this one and then we can go look at the shed.” 

Harry followed, calling after her, “I didn’t bring any tools, I hope you’ve got something I can work with?”

Rebecca popped her head out of the shed. “Come and have a look for yourself. It’s in quite a state, but it still stands. My dad was strangely proud of that.” 

Harry fit his broad-shouldered frame inside the small shed as best he could without towering above her. Rebecca caught his eye as he attempted to squeeze himself in, chuckling slightly.

The shed was small, built out of wood that had begun rotting many years ago. Daylight filtered through cracks along the walls and dust shimmered in the air. In the corner, a box of tools, its bright red colour contrasting strangely with its surroundings, was waiting patiently for its next use. Rebecca had arranged a large pile of fresh wood and wooden panels next to it, probably to restore the cracked walls. 

“It’s dismal, I know, but the roof is still in a really good state so i’d hate it to collapse entirely.” 

Harry gently pushed against the walls. The wood cracked and moaned but it held. The problem was the rot, which had weakened the overall structure. 

“I’m afraid if you want it to stand for any number of years, we have to tear it down completely first. The wood is rotting. Best to rebuild entirely.” 

Rebecca nodded, biting her lips nervously. 

“I don’t want to ask you to do that, I thought it just needed a few repairs. But tearing it down and rebuilding it is a job for my brother; he loves to demolish things to rebuild them.” 

A small part of Harry’s heart - which he refused to acknowledge - rebelled at the idea. 

“Nonsense, I said I’d help and I will. We will just need a lot more wood than that.”

Wednesday, some weeks later ----, 6 pm

Dropping by Rebecca’s shop had become part of Harry’s routine. Nearly everyday after work, he’d go in, buy a few flowers and go. Every weekend, he’d drop by and work on the shed. He was grateful for the distraction it provided and, slowly, began to acknowledge that Rebecca had wormed her way into his heart. 

Harry Hart had never dared to think too much about love. The Kingsman code was explicit: no attachments, no weaknesses. Eggsy and, on occasion, Merlin, had expressed how incredibly stupid and bigoted the Gentleman Guide was but the former Arthur had been uncompromising. 

Kingsman was slowly adapting and changing, especially after Poppy’s missile catastrophe. A new Arthur had yet to be found but under the capable supervision of the older agents, amongst which Harry and Merlin, the newer recruits were coming into their own. Kingsman was still not operating at full capacity, what with the HQ and the London shop in ruins, but it was getting there. 

Exhausted, Harry shook out his umbrella outside the shop before coming in, tucking it neatly in a corner. It had been a long day: recruits to assess, Merlin to check on (he was adjusting to his wheelchair but threw a few dignified Scottish tantrums along the way) and paperwork to work through. 

The smell of freshly cut flowers greeted him and, immediately, he felt better. March had brought an early spring and the blooms were peeking shyly from under their green little sprouts. 

Harry heard a commotion in the back room and, nerves on alert, made his way slowly towards the garden. Carefully popping his head in, he saw Rebecca, on the ground, looking under the sofa and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Eventually, a small kitten emerged, sniffing her fingers curiously. He meowed a few times, noticing Harry by the door, and meowed even louder, asking for food. 

“I believe this little lad is hungry.” 

Rebecca gasped, nearly bumping her head on the sofa. 

“Harry! You scared the living daylights out of me!” 

He held his hands up, taking one step in, chuckling slightly. 

“My apologies. You looked terribly busy.” 

The shabby little cat, meanwhile, completely disinterested in the antics of those two humans, had made his way towards the kitchen, no doubt drawn to the smell of soup hanging in the air. One or two loud meows later, a large bowl full of ham and leftover meat had been placed for him by the table and he happily forgot all about everything else. 

“I found him in the street this afternoon. It was cold and he was shivering and crying, so I brought him in. He wasn’t a fan of being carried somewhere new and he hid under that couch for a solid hour before you came in.” 

“Well, he’s one lucky cat.” 

Rebecca laughed softly and shook her head, her long curls bouncing around her forehead. Harry resisted the urge to tuck one behind her ear. Tying an apron around her waist, she made her way towards the stove to check on the soup. 

Harry observed her, sleeves rolled up to reveal creamy skin, feet tapping lightly to no rhythm in particular, curls pinned up by a clip, out of the way. He felt his heart give a little tug and, unable to stop himself, took a few steps towards her. 

She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in diagnosing what exactly was missing from the soup. The warm smell of tomatoes made Harry’s mouth water. He could tell what was missing from that distance. 

“Have you added basil?”

She looked up at him, noticing his closeness, and a pretty blush spread over her cheeks. She tasted one more spoonful before smiling broadly, dashing out of the door and back again. She came back with a shriek, shaking the droplets out of her hair. Harry couldn’t contain his smile. 

Suddenly, as she was taking off her boots, a sparkling flash of blue caught Harry’s eye. Looking more closely, he froze. There were two blue butterflies, Adonis blues, flying around her head. One settled into the mass of pinned curls, the other kept looking for a perch. 

Harry’s heart soared. how he had missed his butterflies! Their gentle movements mesmerized him and, unconsciously, he took a step forward. He didn’t notice the curious look Rebecca shot him when he reached up to touch one of the butterflies. She didn’t stop him, didn’t move, as if she knew something was happening that she couldn’t see. 

Harry felt the flutter of the butterfly’s wings on his fingers and smiled. Rebecca had never seen him smile like that before. He had never smiled happily, always offered small, sad, smiles. She wondered what it was that made him so happy tonight. 

The moment ended when their eyes met, Harry blushing furiously and taking a step back; Rebecca reaching up to touch her hair, her blush deeper than before. 

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.” 

Her tone was curious, not displeased. Harry couldn’t help but answer honestly: 

“There were butterflies around your head. Blue ones. I’ve always loved blue butterflies.” 

Rebecca frowned slightly. Butterflies? In this season? Surely that was impossible, and she would have seen them. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground, realizing how utterly mad that must have sounded. He was ready to take his leave when she said: 

“I love blue butterflies too.” 

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt; @flybi91

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[agrestebug]

Marichat May 2020

Hey everyone! I’m so glad that you guys have been enjoying these one shots from my Marichat 2020 collection, so here’s another one! If you like the ones I've posted so far, you can always find the full collection on FFN. I’m still cross-posting other stories to Ao3, so it’s not there just yet. I’m still AgresteBug on FFN so it shouldn’t be too hard to find! And please, don’t repost my stories without permission! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

Day 27 - Secrets

Marinette let out yet another annoyed sigh, and Chat couldn’t help but ask as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, "All right, that's the third one. What's wrong purrincess?"

A softer sigh escaped her, "It's just," she turned around to face him, "I'm sick of Lila, Kitty. It's been nearly a month since you let everyone know you were dating someone, and Lila has been dropping hints for days that it's her."

He tried to smile, "Ignore her mon coeur."

"I can't!" She said frustratedly, "She is driving me crazy! I swear she is purposely doing it when I'm around, like she KNOWS something."

"Hey," he whispered lovingly, putting his hands on either side of her face, "we have been nothing but careful. There is no way she knows the truth. We went five months without saying anything, and no one was the wiser. Let her spout her lies,"

"But everyone believes her." She said, pulling his hands from her face, "You can see it in everyone's faces that they know what she is implying, and you should hear the things she says about you."

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking back to all the things he had heard Lila saying. If truth be told, he was getting sick of it too. He wanted to try and be the bigger person, and just leave Lila to her lies, but seeing how upset his purrincess was, maybe it wasn't the right route to take anymore.

"I can only imagine." He relented, pulling her back into his arms and staring down into her beautiful bluebell eyes, "So, what do you want to do? I'm game for a little of this, or a little of that." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled, "Oh I'm sure if I set my Kitty after the rat, you'd have far too much fun."

"I do quite enjoy a game of chat and mouse." He said with a smirk, "but you're my favorite mouse to catch." He squeezed her closer and a light blush dusted her cheeks much to his delight.

She completely ignored the comment and told him, "Unless we flat out reveal our relationship, I really don't know what to do. She is a master manipulator, and she'll turn anything I say in her favor. I say anything, and by the time she's done, she'll even have ME convinced that you are dating her."

"Hmm," Chat mused, his eyes suddenly sparkling in mischief that instantly made her suspicious. She stared at him hard as a wide grin spread on his face, "I think I have an idea. It might be a bit risky, but we won't have to tell anyone anything."

She knew this probably wasn't a good idea, but asked anyways, "What's your plan?"

…

'They should be on their way to the bakery from Alya's any minute now. Have fun Kitty ;)' Marinette's text read, making him grin.

He stretched out of his comfortable position on the rooftop, getting to his feet and checking to make sure the small package was securely in his pocket. With the bait in hand, he started vaulting quickly across the rooftops.

Most people were going about their day, but he was glad that a few people noticed him. This was the one time he wanted eyes on him. This way, there were a few witnesses at least.

He found Alya's cinnamon scent, along with Nino's musky herb scent. They were close. He smiled wider, spotting them just across the street. He couldn't have asked for a better set up. He vaulted straight across their path, letting the small package drop directly in front of them.

Alya let out a small gasp in shock, instantly looking around. He jumped down instantly, feigning relief, "Oh thank god it didn't fall far." He picked up the small box and saw Alya's eyes widen in joy, "Chat Noir! This is yours?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." He said sheepishly.

Alya was already pulling her phone out of her pocket, Nino shaking his head, "No sweat man. It must be important."

Chat nodded, smiling down at the little box, "It is."

Alya had her phone pointed right at him, "What is it? A gift for your mystery girl?"

He smiles into the camera, "We can't hide anything from the great Ladyblogger, can we? Yes, it's an anniversary gift for my girlfriend. I would have hated to have lost it."

Alya's face lit up with the joy of the scoop, "Anniversary huh? One month? Three, a year?"

Chat smirked, "Now, now Ladyblogger, you know the rules. You don't get any details. I told you the truth about having a girlfriend, but that's all you get."

Nino chuckled at Alya's obvious disappointment, "You did promise you wouldn't pry Als."

"What's the harm in knowing how long they've been together?" Alya tried, but Chat shook a finger at her, "Tisk, tisk, fur shame Ladyblogger. No details means no details," he added it for good measure, "or Ladybug would have my tail."

Alya asked again the same thing she had the first time, "And, Ladybug is NOT your girlfriend?"

He sighed, "No, m'lady is the best, dearest friend I could ever ask for. I do love her, that will never, ever change, but she is NOT my girlfriend."

Alya looked just as disappointed as she had the first time, "Right. Ruin my LadyNoir ship why don't you."

He saw the smirk on her face and knew what was coming, "Since you won't give me details about her, maybe you'll give us a peek of her gift? I'm dying to know what it is."

Jackpot.

He held the small box protectively, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"What are the odds that I know her Chat Noir? There are thousands of people, of girls, in this city. Odds are, I'll never see, whatever it is, ever again." Alya tried, knowing that she would actually see whatever it was on Lila at school soon enough. Lila would be tickled to know that she had run into Chat Noir and knew what the gift was before her.

Chat looked at the box with a frown before looking up at her, "No recording."

Alya beamed, putting her phone away. He told them the second the phone is in her pocket, "You have to swear you won't say anything about this to anyone, at least until Monday morning. I want it to be a surprise."

Nino and Alya instantly agree to keep their silence, and he reluctantly opened the small box.

It's a ring, a white gold band that looks like a tiara. The middle of the tiara is heart shaped, and the small diamonds lining it don't overcrowd it. It was a simple design, but absolutely beautiful.

"Wow, that's legit dude." Nino told him, impressed, seeing the usually suave and confident black cat looking nervous, "You think so? You think she'll like it?"

"Without a doubt man." Nino said without a hint of hesitation.

Alya nodded, thinking that it was a little simple for Lila's usual style, but knew it was true anyways, "It's absolutely adorable. She is going to love it."

Chat gave them a bright smile, "Thanks." He lifted the ring out of the box, showing them the inside, "I even had it engraved for her."

There, etched into the white gold, was an elegant script that read 'My Purrincess'.

"Do you really call her that?" Alya asked, teasing.

Chat put the ring back in the box and nodded not the least bit embarrassed, "Every opurr-tunity I get." He told them again, "And you won't say anything right?"

They nodded again, "Not a word." "We'll keep your secret dude."

Chat gave them a quick, two-fingered salute before vaulting back up to the rooftops and disappearing as he headed for home. He landed in his room and pulled out his baton, texting her happily, 'The secret's been planted purrincess.'

It didn’t take long for her response to come through, 'Good job Kitty, now will you PLEASE tell me what the secret is?'

He laughed to himself, proud of all the secrets he was juggling at the moment, 'Tomorrow mon coeur. I promise.'

…

Monday morning, Adrien walked into school with a pep in his step. Not only had he managed to surprise his purrincess with the ring for their sixth month anniversary, but she had finally relented and asked to know who he was under the mask.

She had cried when she saw that it was him, which he'd panicked about initially before she explained that they were happy tears. They knew it was going to be a dangerous road going forward, but it was working out for the best. Adrien wasn't allowed to have a girlfriend at the moment, but there was nothing stopping Chat Noir from continuing to date her.

Marinette hadn't batted an eye when he told her that as Adrien, his father didn't want him to date anyone right now because of the brand. To his mild surprise, she actually thought their dating in secret would be for the better anyways. This way, they could date out of the spotlight, and not paint a bigger target on their backs for being together.

Lila’s too sweet voice immediately broke through his thoughts, "You sure you are okay Alya?"

He only looked around for a few seconds before seeing Lila walking towards the stairs with Alya who was frowning, "Yeah, everything is fine. You are sure you didn't see anyone special this weekend?"

Lila giggled, making him roll his eyes, "You know I can't tell you if I did or didn't."

He followed behind them at a safe distance, keeping his smirk to himself. He knew what Alya's problem was. There was no ring on Lila's finger.

"H-Hey Adrien. Good morning."

He turned instantly, smiling brightly as she walked up to him slowly, "Good morning Marinette."

They smiled secret smiles at each other before Marinette held out a small box to him, "Oh, I brought these for you."

He took the box as he told her softly, a slight blush on his cheeks, "You didn't have to do that." He opened the box and saw the small array of goodies. There were chocolate covered croissants, a couple of cheese danishes that he was sure weren't going to make it past the first hour if a certain kwami got a hold of them, and his favorite passionfruit macarons.

She said it somewhat teasing, "Well if you don't want them, I'm sure someone else,"

"NO!" He told her, holding the box to his chest, "I want them."

She giggled and leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek before whispering it, "I thought so Kitty."

He whispered back with a grin, "Careful purrincess, or someone might see."

She tapped his nose with a wink, "I know how to keep a secret. Trust me."

They laugh before heading upstairs together to class. As they took their seats, with Lila nowhere in sight, Alya told Marinette instantly, "Someone looks extremely happy this morning."

Nino snickered as Adrien pulled out a chocolate croissant, "Here too."

Adrien took a bite and melted against his seat, "Don't judge me Nino." Nino laughed anyways and turned to Marinette, "Where's the treats for everyone else?"

Marinette's response was instant, "You ate them all this weekend when you and Alya came over. Adrien didn't get any since he had that photoshoot."

Adrien nodded instantly, "Exactly! I missed out and deserve these."

The girls giggled, Marinette's right hand going to cover her mouth. The tiara ring twinkled beautifully in the light, and Adrien made his move as he saw Alya eyeing it in shock, "Hey, that's new, isn't it?"

Marinette blushed instantly, looking at the ring on her middle finger, "Oh, uh, yeah."

"Can I see?" He asked innocently. She held her hand out to him, Alya and Nino both leaning closer to get a better look. Adrien thumbed the ring lightly, the shocked exchange of looks between Nino and Alya didn't go unnoticed.

"Wh-Where'd you get that dudette?" Nino asked, trying not to sound nervous.

Lila walked into the room at that exact moment as Marinette answered, "Oh, someone special gave it to me last night as a surprise. It's pretty, don't you think?"

All three of them nodded, and Lila of course, stopped to add her opinion, "Wow, that is such a cute ring Marinette. It's simple, but perfect for you." She said it with a slight flair in her tone, "MY special kitten gave me a ring when we first started dating. I can't wear it out of course, it's so big I'm sure someone would try to steal it."

Adrien saw the slight scowls on Nino and Alya's faces, knowing that they knew now that Lila was lying. He asked them concerned, "Are you guys okay?"

They both instantly smiled, trying to act like nothing was wrong. He smiled at them, before turning back to Marinette, "Do you mind if I take a closer look at the ring?"

Marinette pulled it off and held it out to him. He started commenting on it out loud, making sure to keep Lila's face in his peripheral, "The band is white gold, not silver or a gold-plated overlay either. You can see the Maker's mark for 20 karat gold, which is the highest quality of white gold out there."

He smiled to himself, seeing Lila's face harden, "And the design is simple, sure, but elegant. The tiara is beautifully crafted and the way the heart is integrated into the design is genius."

He held it up to the light, the diamonds catching and sending small prisms everywhere, "The diamonds themselves are flawless and colorless, easily D quality, not one has a bit of cloud or yellow tinge. Based on how many there are, despite them being smaller, there is at least a carat and a half worth of diamonds here."

Lila looked like she was practically seething in jealousy now, and he brought the ring closer, adding it innocently, "Whoever gave this to you must love you immensely. Even the inside engraving of 'My Purrincess' is flawlessly done."

She took the ring back from him, putting it back on her finger quickly as she said it hushed, "You weren't supposed to see that."

He glanced at the others, seeing the surprise on their faces before he faked it himself, lowering his voice, "Purr-incess, that sounds a lot like, are you the one dating Chat Noir Marinette?"

Marinette blushed heavily but didn't say anything to confirm or deny it. Lila stormed off towards her seat without another word, Alya asking her again, "Are you?"

Marinette smiled at her, saying it calmly, "My boyfriend just has a thing for cat puns, that's all."

Adrien grinned at her comment, giving her a small wink as Nino and Alya held knowing stares.

Marinette grinned happily, knowing that his plan had worked, and glad that their secrets were working out after all.

[nala-raines]

Secret Santa

Author’s note: This is a Secret Santa gift for @choices_fangirl on Instagram. I can’t make an edit or draw, I don’t have tiktok, but I’m told I’m a good writer. I hope you like this.

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Anna Blake)

Summary: Anna convinces Ethan to participate in Secret Santa with her friends and some hospital staff. Ethan just thought about getting a universal gift, that is until he got Anna for his Secret Santa. He stresses trying to find the perfect gift.

“How did I let you talk me into this?” Ethan asked as he was being dragged by Anna to the break room. They were heading there to fill out a form and draw names for Secret Santa. Ethan was reluctant to do it, but Anna per usual, had managed to talk him into doing it.

“Because you love me. And you know that it’ll be fun.” She says with a smile.

“You know I’m just going to get a gift card, right?”

“You can be no fun sometimes.” Anna says before covering a yawn. Their shift was over, he just wanted to take her home, make her food, and snuggle in bed. But this was important to her so there he was.

“If you say so rookie.”

They walk into the breakroom hand-in-hand and are immediately greeted by Sienna, Rafael, Naveen, Bryce, Jackie, Aurora, and Elijah. Everyone grabs a form to fill out and gather around a table so they could still catch up on the day's events. After a few minutes, Ethan offers to return the forms for everyone. They hand him all the forms, and begins to stand. When he places the forms in the basket, Harper approaches him,

“Ethan Ramsey? Dr. Blake must have you wrapped around her finger for you to be here.” She said turning in her own form.

“You could say that.” Ethan responded. He and Harper have had a professional relationship after they broke up, but after going public with Anna the two became friends again. “The things you do for the people you love.”

What he didn’t know was Harper was jealous. She knew that Ethan was happy with Anna, happier than she’s ever seen him. She just wished that she could've made him this happy.

“I’m happy for you. Looks like we’re about to start. I’ll see you later.”

“Yes. See you later.”

Ethan and Harper return to their seats while Naveen explains the rules. There is a 25 dollar spending limit; when you pull out a form, you can’t have a redo; and the form is there to help give you an idea for the gift. If you have something else in mind, you can get or make it as long as it doesn’t exceed the limit.

After everyone understands the rules, doctors and nurses take turns taking pages out of the giant bowl and opening them up as they walk away. Some were excited with who they got, others were mad, and others either didn’t care or were petrified.

When Anna goes up and gets her Secret Santa, she looks happy, but she bites her lip telling him that she’s nervous, but she looks overall excited. Then it was Ethan’s turn he walked up, reached in and pulled out the first form he felt. He just walked back and out the paper in his back pocket. When he sat down, Anna turned to him,

“Aren’t you going to see who you got?” She asked, looking a little sad.

“I was planning on looking at it later.” Ethan just sighed, pulled the paper out and opened it. He read over the name at the top of the page Anna Blake.

“Do you pull a board member?” She asked, knowing that two board members were participating as well. Everyone knew that Ethan and the board don’t get along.

“No. I just… didn’t expect to get this person.”

Two hours later…

Anna was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. It was her turn to stay at his place for the weekend, even though they had to work tomorrow. Ethan had read the form Anna filled out three times, his mind was reeling. He already had gifts picked and planned, but none of them were 25 dollars or less. 

Ethan never loved anyone like he loves Anna. So, he refused to get anything cheap or go half way when it came to getting her gifts. Whether it was 100% real, thought, or time he wanted to show, in as many ways he could, he loved her. She said as many times “You don’t have to buy expensive gifts for me.” But he wanted to.

He pulls out his laptop and starts looking up nice necklaces, books, and nice cardigans or sweaters. But nothing was saying Anna to him.

“Shopping for your Secret Santa? I thought you were going to get them a gift card. Pretty much everyone drinks coffee or tea at Edenbrook.” Anna said, startling Ethan.

He closes his laptop as Anna pulls back the covers and snuggles into Ethan’s side as he laid down and wrapped his arm around her.

“Maybe I’m shopping for gift cards.”

Anna just rolls her eyes and snuggles closer.

“At least whoever you got will be able to get something nice for themselves.”

“Sweet dreams, rookie.”

Three days later, Ethan is in his office, taking a break and once again looking for a gift for Anna.

‘Anna. I had to get Anna. I already had all of her gifts picked out. Why couldn’t I have picked one thing that was under 25 dollars?’ Ethan thought, kicking himself mentally. He was never this worried about getting people gifts, not even for the few people he was closest to. But Anna was different, she is his everything.

He read over the list again, trying to think of something. He hit her favorite color: purple.

‘What in the world am I supposed to do with her favorite color? Anna is my everything she holds the...’ Then it hit him. He quickly typed something into the search bar and found something that would work for that he had in mind.

“That’ll work.”

“What will work?” Anna asked walking into the office with Baz and the news member of the team Tobias. Who transferred to Edenbrook after when he heard about that doctor Mr. Bloom wanted to bring in. He and Ethan had a fist fight, but they worked out their issues, became friends again, and now they work well together. Ethan pulled up a patient file that thankfully provided a cover story.

“Just a theory I have about a patient. I just need to run a few tests. Now, let’s get down to business.”

“To defeat the huns?” Anna says, with a smile. Tobias and Baz laugh, Ethan just shakes his head. But after that, they all got serious. 

Two days later, he received a package while catching up with Naveen. Ethan signed and opened it up. He smiled when he looked inside.

“What’s that?” Naveen asked.

“Something I needed for a secret Santa.” Ethan responded, saying nothing more. 

Naveen looked at the package itself, not inside it. The package was about a foot and a half wide, and 7 inches tall. But didn’t pry.

That night, Ethan put together his gift. It took three hours but it was worth it. All he had to do was wait.

One week later, the Christmas party and the Secret Santa reveal.

‘On Christmas Eve, naturally.’

Everyone was pleasantly surprised by their Secret Santa. Ethan picked up his gift, it was a picture of him and Anna on Halloween. She had conceived him to dress up in a 1920’s suit and she wore a 1920’s flapper dress and accessories. Sienna had taken that photo, it may have happened a few months ago, but it’s one of his favorite memories. There was also a little book, 100 recipes to make in under 30 minutes. The cover was hand-written, and it looked like the entire thing was made by hand.

Ethan simply looked at Anna before asking,

“Alright who got me this? Anna or Sienna. I honestly lost track of who had who.”

“Didn’t you tell me we had to be observant and listen to the people around us?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you, rookie.”

“You’re welcome. But how did you know it was me?”

“I recognized your handwriting.” He gave her a deep, long, and sweet kiss. Before Anna picked up her gift. A small box, with purple wrapping paper. She tears into the gift, opens the box and pulls out a note and an old fashion key.

“What the…?” She then reads the note…

Don’t worry, you’ll know what this opens when you see it.

She didn’t recognize the handwriting, and there weren’t any other clues. She looked at Ethan, he just shrugged and kissed the top of her head. No one stepped forward to claim responsibility for the gift. Anna thought about it most of the party.

After drinking, talking, and dancing with Ethan, she was ready to leave. She looked for Ethan, but she couldn’t find him.

“Hey Naveen, have you seen Ethan?” She asked.

“I think he went to the diagnostics office. He probably needed a break.”

She nodded and went to get him to take her home. But when she got there she saw a box with an old fashion lock, that matches the key she got. Anna quickly scans the area, but finds no one. She carefully walks over the the box to take a closer look at it. 

The box had the same purple wrapping paper. It was over a foot wide and about six inches tall. When she got to the box, she noticed another note, it read,

I told you once that ‘I want it to be as special as you’. Well, that know applies to every moment. Because every moment is special, when I spend it moment with you.

Anna unlocks the box and finds a few thin photo albums. She picked up the top one, which has some photos inside from Halloween, Christmas, the vacation they took in July, but it was the next album that caught her attention. It was white with little bell cutouts, Anna’s mouth dropped. She picked it up and saw that there was a third one. This one has splashes of baby boy blue and rose blush pink, with little booties in the same colors. Her eyes fill with tears, as she fully realizes who her Secret Santa is.

“Well? What do you think? Do you like it?”

Anna turns to find Ethan standing behind her, his hands behind his back.

“I love it. But what is it... ?” She asks, nervous and hopeful. She thought she knew what was happening, but she knew that Ethan didn’t want to get married or have kids. So, she didn’t dare hope.

“Please, I want to get this out. I want you to hear what I have to say.” Ethan says as he takes her hands in his. “Anna, when we first met I wasn’t looking for a relationship. All I wanted to do was make sure you would become the best doctor you could be. I never thought I would fall so madly in love with you, that I would do anything to help you or make you smile. After my mom left, I never saw myself married, or having kids, only to abandon them.” Ethan pauses, a few tears spill from his eyes, as he wipes away hers.

“That was until I met you that is. You turned my whole world upside-down, and I am so glad that you did. I refuse to imagine a my life without you in it. You make my life complete. I love you, Anna Blake. My rookie.”

“Ethan…” Anna says, breathless. Ethan gets down on one knee, reaching for something in his coat pocket and he pulls out a small box.

“I bought this for you a month ago.” He says as he flips the lid open. “Anna Blake, I have always loved you, even when I pushed you away, but from now on, I just want to pull you towards me. I want your face to be the first one I see in the morning; and the last face before I fall asleep. I even want kids that are just like you, Rookie. With that said, Anna Blake, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She couldn’t believe what Ethan had just said. So, she wasn’t paying attention to the box, only the man in front of her. When he finished, she finally looked at the ring. It has a simple design, one large diamond in the center and a silver band. She just couldn’t breath, it took her a minute, but she only had one word on her mind,

“Yes.” Her voice was just a whisper, but Ethan heard her. He just wanted to much sure, but before he could ask,

“Yes. Yes. YES! Yes Ethan, I will marry you.” Anna tackled Ethan to the ground, her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Ethan was relieved, he used one arm to prop himself up and held her close with his other arm. After a moment, they pulled back and kissed each other, they channeled all of the love they felt into the kisses. When they pulled apart to breathe, Ethan slid the engagement ring onto her left-hand ring finger.

They heard their phones go off. When they checked the notifications, they saw that Sienna had sent a group text, it read Merry Christmas Everyone! They looked at the time 12:00 am. It was Christmas Day.

“Merry Christmas, Ethan.”

“Merry Christmas Mrs. Ramsey.”

[obeymeluv]

Ohhh how about the boys reacting to a lower demon hitting on reader? Like aggressively hitting on them that it’s already quite uncomfortable? Or it could be the shy, almost sweet type?

Hey there! Holy wow, how long has this been here? I usually check Tumblr from my phone and I guess message notifications don’t come through? So sorry T_T

Either way, Nonnie, this isn’t good :o

Divider from Glitter Geeks

♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥ ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥  ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥

“It cannot be helped, for I am born of sin and they inspire it in me.”

♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥ ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥ ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥

Lucifer

This is the BIGGEST, ULTIMATE NO

Like, all of Mammon’s past transgressions don’t POSSIBLY add up to this insult

At first Lucifer pays no mind because you seem to be integrating into the Devildom and furthering Diavolo’s grand plan. Good!

Then it starts to gnaw at him and he really pays attention. Call it the keen eye of an ex-angel, to watch over humans

Half of him is earnestly trying to plan things to say on the way over, not hearing how his own footsteps echo thunderously with impending doom, but half of him can’t even concentrate due to the overwhelming sense of wrong.

You seem very uncomfortable, this lesser demon is more incompetent than he thought possible, and there’s something hot and nauseating burning in him. It almost hurts to clear his throat, honestly

It feels like the part he’d forgotten about...almost all that Satan was. He honestly thought he didn’t have any wrath left in him, for pride seemed far nastier a thing to be stuck with

He lets those big black wings, once the pride of the Celestial Realm, unfurl in a great and terrifying display. He used to shine in the Celestial Realm when he revealed his true form, but in the Devildom it translates as pure heat

He fans his wings to cool the air around you but the lesser demon now knows his looming shadow and his terrifying presence

If the demon is bold enough to stick around, Lucifer introduces you as the resident human transfer, discourages them from making you late, and suggests any further interaction happen in the presence of one of your seven guardians (“Of which I am one.”)

Although he mentioned seven guardians, it’s clear that he’s the key guardian. The one who will oversee all, and that’s enough to send the demon skittering away.

It takes a few minutes for the air to cool and his wings to fold back in and Lucifer uses that time to glare a burning hole into the lesser creature.

Finally he looks at you and asks you how you’re feeling. Nothing bad happened? Do you need to file paperwork?

Would probably consort with Diavolo to cast a minor enchantment so you could protect yourself if one of the brothers weren’t around

Mammon

You think another demon’s going to get close enough to talk to you? While in the presence of your NUMBER ONE MAN?! Ha!

Mammon may complain about having to go to classes and tries to convince you to ditch more often than not, but he really does look out for you

And boy is Greed’s Avatar so he’s not going to skimp on the company

That also means he’s not going to share your company when he doesn’t feel like it

Mammon may not be openly flirtatious like Asmo, but he knows all about swindling people for their heart (for it is just as valuable as money) and he knows when this demon comes slithering up that he’s BAD NEWS

He’s clever with money-making schemes, has successfully stolen from almost all of his brothers to pawn things, and has brokered deals with witches in such a way that he’s barely affected. Boy’s going to know how to dodge a creep

And for a while, it works. He teaches you back passages and all sorts of little things

But, inevitably, you have to face it alone. He’s not going to always be there.

And he kicks himself when he’s not. Seems he’s only minutes late but ANYBODY who knows you--like your number one man!--knows you’re uncomfortable and THE GREAT MAMMON has to do something!

What does he do? The biggest, loudest, flashiest thing possible. THE BIGGEST SIGN YOU COULD GIVE ANYBODY

If the demon isn’t discouraged from Mammon yell-talking at you halfway down the corridor, Mammon gets to see the delicious way he deflates after he throws an arm around your neck and starts apologizing to ‘his human’ about being late

If he’s in a bad mood that day, he’ll probably toss the demon a single Grimm and tell him to get lost or go buy himself something nice.

The height difference is probably pretty significant so it’s easier for him to just scoop you under his arm and carry you down the hall. Or let his tail wrap around you and walk you down the hall.

Leviathan

I’d be interested to see Levi in this position, honestly. Part of me thinks he’d be too shy to do anything, instead sulking in his room, but part of me thinks once he sees you as a friend (or something more) he’s going to go to bat for you

If it’s that second one, he’d be slyly demeaning. Being the third-born, he’s probably got an intelligent sarcastic streak like Lucifer and a subtle underhandedness like Mammon.

As the Avatar of Envy, his main game is to make the lesser demon feel insignificant by pointing out how little they know you. They’re not your real friend like him so obviously they’re nothing.

He’s much better, anyways. They’re an NPC, he’s Player 1.

I’m also very, very curious about his position in the Devildom Navy. Is that some kind of a switch-flip moment where he can command a room no questions asked, or is it some kind of wickedly good strategy innateness?

Being a background person (and having Asmo as a brother), he probably overhears a lot of gossip. He’d probably drop some real gossip, something embarrassing. Probably say you were needed by Lucifer, as that’s more to-the-point and believable

The aim of the game is to send the demon away, to create distance. Mission accomplished.

Satan

He won’t intervene until he gets the idea that you’re uncomfortable. It’s a whole process with this one.

On the one hand, he wants you to be able to handle yourself. If you are not enough to send the creature away, then he’ll intervene. Partly because he’s technically responsible for you, partly because he cannot stand idly by and entertain this idiocy.

Satan has many tricks but his favorite one is to freeze the demon out by ignoring him.

Totally dominates/inserts himself into the conversation. Makes the demon feel like he isn’t there.

If that doesn’t work and your scrambling to corroborate him or just back out of the conversation, Satan speaks for you. (”We’re studying later.”, etc.). If the demon tries for another day, Satan just coolly adds ‘and tomorrow’ or ‘for the rest of the week’ until the point is made.

The longer this issue continues--despite his help--the more the Avatar of Wrath begins to reveal himself. That aura alone is usually enough to send anything running.

Kinda feels like he made an ass of himself no matter what, and apologizes after you two are alone. Is very cute and embarrassed.

Gives you a biting book. It’s an enchanted tome you can train not to bite certain people. You two are the only ones that can hold it. He looks forward to seeing how many people it bites before the week is over (a little too happy). 

Asmodeus

Oh the many ways this could be handled! Asmo has so many ideas!

At first his little heart skips a beat because how cute is this?! A cliche romance unfolding in the halls of RAD between a human and a demon? Then his little ‘radar’ begins to ping and he realizes not all is well or cute

He was kind of glad, honestly. You could do MUCH better (like him!)

It could be as easy as Asmo sliding in and charming the lesser demon to leave you alone, walking away in a stupor, or more complicated and sinister

Asmo’s never done anything truly, intentionally sinister but rumor mills can be pretty devastating. The lesser demon may find himself at the center of some unsavory rumors that cause him to slink around the general populous

The narcissistic fifth-born probably has something of a following. He may appoint some of his followers as body guards or just extra eyes to keep you safe

Or he could do a total 180 and make this lesser demon seem totally dreamy to others so they get chased and leave you alone. Yes, he quite likes that one!

Then there’s the traditional route, the most obvious (which Asmo prefers because, honestly, you two would be the CUTEST couple) where he’s your boyfriend and you guys didn’t want to tell anyone but OOPS! SECRET’S OUT! Great, now go away! Wait, take a picture for his Devilgram first! Okay, now go. 

Beelzebub

Probably takes Beel a bit to notice your discomfort. If he’s not distracted with food, it’s because he didn’t want to act in bad faith. What if you actually liked talking to that demon? What if you were just awkward like Levi? It’s a delicate matter.

Beel is no fool, though. He’s very friendly. If he introduces himself and the lesser demon doesn’t quit his behavior, Beel will then turn serious.

Tries to emphasize to the demon that you’ve said no

May show muscle or offer up a challenge. Sometimes people are hard-headed like that and need action.

“You want to date them? Beat me in an arm-wrestling competition.” (they won’t)

Beelzebub can be down-right crafty. “You want to date them? Beat me in an eating competition.” (he’s the undisputed champion).

I think he’d use his size in a good way. If this demon keeps cornering you/pestering you, Beel’s going to make a habit of walking between you or just picking you up until the demon gets the hint that if Beel’s around, he’s not talking to you

Belphegor

The smallest part of him is too tired to deal with this but he’s powered by the sheer amount of HELL NO and decides he has to fix it.

Fix it once and it stops

Belphie, like Satan and Lucifer, has  a low tolerance for stupid things. This demon is one of them.

Very cut-throat and point blank. “They’re not interested. Go away.”

Lord Diavolo and Lucifer expressly mentioned they couldn’t use their powers on YOU, not other demons. Belphie can probably make people really sleepy. He’d make this demon so deliriously tired that he couldn’t flirt with you

Definitely the type to make the demon pass out in the hall and leave him there. Head injury? No clue, he had to go to class. It’s okay, the other RAD students probably won’t step on them.

So mad about the demon. “Honestly!” as he fluffs his pillow angrily after you two have settled in your next class. It’s the angriest nap he’s ever taken.

I don’t think he takes his pillow to school but you can bet he’d but a brick or something in it and whack them. Maybe try to suffocate them. Probably wouldn’t risk his precious pillow like that.

I bet he’d fake nap if the demon tries to flirt with you in class. LOUD, OBNOXIOUS, GRATING fake snoring.  

Hope you liked it :)

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 5//

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)

(Tags: @thron3ofbooks @df3ndyr @courtofjurdan @art-e-mis @herondamnn @the-third-me @im-still-trying-here @emikadreams @paytin77)

It was all I could do to keep from bursting into joyous tears as Madja announced that I was ten weeks along in my pregnancy. Upon revealing that my suspicions were true, she completed a thorough examination. She determined that since I was in the early stages, that was the cause of lingering sickness and fatigue. Unfortunately, those symptoms would continue until I was about halfway along; where most females felt the best and most of the unlikeable symptoms eased a bit. I was also surprised to learn that a fae pregnancy lasts five weeks longer than a human’s, but it made sense on a larger scale. As powerful immortal beings, we needed more time in the womb to develop.

After her examination, she prescribed a few prenatal herbal teas that I would need to drink in order to aid in the baby’s growth. I smiled at the word, brushing my fingertips along my abdomen again—knowing this would become a new habit for me, and for Rhys. A baby, our baby, growing strong inside of me as Madja promised. He would be as strong as his father, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, and with my powers combined…

My smile faltered as I realized what this meant.

Years ago, Rhys confided in me about his concern over any potential offspring he might have, afraid they would be hunted and sought after by his enemies. If his children inherited his abilities alone, they would be just as powerful. What did that threat mean now with my blood mixed in?

Cursebreaker. Cauldron-blessed. The first ever High Lady in Prythian, who inherited a drop of power from all seven of the High Lords after being resurrected.

What powers would my child inherit from me? Combined with Rhys’s, our child’s strength would surpass both of ours alone; which meant the same for all the other High Lords of Prythian. We had alliances now, but how many of those would change after they learned about my son? After they saw a fraction of their power in him, in combination with Rhysand’s? My mind began to race and breathing became difficult as I looked down at my stomach, my fingers gripping my tunic in panic. Would he be in danger? Who were we close enough with to know that they would never consider such a thing? What if they came after him before he was born? Would they target me? I had to do something, but what if there was nothing I could do?

I had to protect him—my baby.

Protect, protect, protect.

“My lady,” a gentle voice interrupted the rising chaos in my mind, even gentler hands gripping my shoulders and I saw the healer’s dark eyes meet mine as she leveled a look at me.

I became aware of my ragged breathing, hunched back and tense shoulders, trembling. Her delicate, wrinkled hands moved from my shoulders to either side of my face. A blue aura illuminated those hands as they touched my face, and slowly I calmed. Slowly, my shoulders relaxed and I slid my eyes closed as my breaths evened out, a few tears escaping past my lids.

After a few seconds of that peace, Madja slowly let go of my face and straightened, “You mustn’t be afraid, my lady. Your child will be a very powerful high fae, but you are surrounded by friends—family. The uncertainty the future brings may be frightening, but there is also joy in it,” she said gently as she handed me a handkerchief. “That is what you must focus on right now. The joy in a healthy and developing baby.”

I sniffed as I dabbed at my eyes, nodding in agreement “Thank you Madja. I just felt so overwhelmed for a minute,” I lamented.

“Oh, I see this reaction more often than you would believe. First time mothers have many fears, and you will be no different. Just remember the joy in it,” she reassured.

She was right, I couldn’t allow the fear to consume me. I wouldn’t let it control me or take away from this moment of happiness. This baby, our son, was a miracle. Fae children were difficult to conceive, but Rhys and I had done it. We were going to have a baby; over half a millennia later one would be born into the Night Court’s ruling family—my family. He would be cherished by our Inner Circle, and loved by the people of Velaris; just as they loved Rhys. My heart swelled as I pictured what the moment of joy would look like on his face when I told him; how those violet eyes would brighten and sparkle like the stars and how he would grin. I wanted to paint that moment more than anything, and now after a decade of waiting, I finally would.

“Shall I call the High Lord in for the good news?” she asked as she began packing up her bag of supplies.

“Oh no, please don’t tell him yet,” I urged and she raised an amused brow at me as I flushed, “I want to surprise him...tomorrow at Starfall.”

She nodded her understanding, “I see,” she said as she finished packing and grabbed my hands, squeezing them lightly. “The High Lord will be thrilled, my lady,” she said, and the genuine delight in her voice caused my eyes to burn.

She laughed heartily at the silver lining my eyes, “Expect more of that. Your hormones will cause plenty of surges in your emotions,” she explained empathetically.

I grimaced, “In other words, I’ll be an emotional mess.”

She laughed again and patted my hands, “All completely normal. For now, drink that brew of herbs I gave you three times a day, get plenty of rest, and I will be back next week to check your progress.”

I nodded and walked her to the door of my bedroom, “Thank you Madja,” I said.

“You’re welcome my lady,” she said sweetly before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I touched my stomach tentatively, knowing underneath layers of skin and muscle my child was growing—safely. He was finally real; a manifestation of the love Rhys and I had for each other. So far, only the healer and I knew of his existence, and soon Rhysand would know as well. For the moment, I caressed my still flat stomach and cherished this little time we had alone.

XXX

The hours leading up to our Starfall celebration would be torturous.

Once I emerged from my room and the healer left, everyone was eager to hear her diagnosis of my condition. I did my best to reassure them all that I was perfectly fine, and simply needed more time to recover from my previous illness. Not a complete lie, but I knew they were all unconvinced—especially my mate. I immediately knew that keeping up a façade would be difficult, but luckily, I had plenty of experience with masks of deception. Years in the Night Court with occasional appearances in the Court of Nightmares, and serving as High Lady would certainly assist me in hiding my pregnancy for at least the next twenty-four hours or so.

Later, after we turned in for the night, Rhys begged for a detailed account of Madja’s official diagnosis. I again had to convince him that I was all right, which was technically true. I was pregnant, not sick; so aside from my body working hard to grow a high fae baby, I was fine. An hour into him trying to pry me for more information, I finally managed to silence him by pushing him onto the bed and straddling his hips. This morning however, was more of a struggle. Madja warned me that the fatigue would linger throughout the next several months of my pregnancy, but I soon realized it was going to be an uphill battle to force myself from bed, let alone try and convince my mate that I was still on the road to recovery.

Thankfully, Starfall was finally here; one of our rare days off, and I could use it to my advantage. It had been a while since we spent a day alone together; in the weeks that followed since his return from the Illyrian mountains, we fell back into our regular routine with our schedules as High Lord and Lady. Despite our initial reunion and the brief mating frenzy renewed, which caused us to sneak away from time to time throughout the day, we still attended to our responsibilities. But today was our holiday, and a year from now our child would be here to celebrate his first Starfall. Soon it would no longer be just the two of us, my sisters and our Inner Circle; soon there would be an infant for us to raise and love, so I wanted to continue to take advantage of our time alone while we still had it.

I convinced Rhys to let us spend the morning in bed together, where we took our time worshipping each other's bodies, ate a hearty breakfast and lounged together well into the afternoon. By lunchtime, I felt my energy renew and we enjoyed our lunch in the gardens before we parted to finalize last minute details for the party. Traditionally, that meant Mor and I attended to any directions Elain might have for us and the Illyrians did...well whatever they liked to do before a party.

“They’re probably at Rita’s right now having drinks,” Mor wondered aloud as she and I rearranged the refreshments table in the grand hall.

I stepped back to review my work, and shrugged, “Maybe, but there’s plenty of drinks here, so that doesn’t make much sense,” I reasoned.

“Neither does ‘I’m getting over a cold, I promise,’” she mocked.

I glared at her, but she threw her head back with a laugh, “Don’t look so serious Feyre, whatever secret you have is safe with me.”

I bristled, moving to fuss with a flower arrangement by the table, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said as casually as I could.

“I’ve been keeping a secret for most of my existence, Feyre, I think that makes me an expert,” she said.

I paused and looked her way, “Mor-” I began but she held a hand up to stop me.

“Like I said, it's safe with me,” she said and a look of understanding silently passed between us before she turned to the next task Elain set out for her.

Maybe she did already know, and maybe she didn’t. Either way, I believed that she wouldn’t reveal it to Rhys or anyone else for that matter. I took a step back again to examine the room, happy with the decorations Elain meticulously had installed every year. Sparkling bowls of fae lights lit the room in a warm glow, allowing the white marble floors and moonstone columns to illuminate naturally. The delicate chiffon curtains adorning the windowless arched walls were decorated with tiny sparkles of fae light, a design Elain created herself, and accentuated the varying shades of cream, ivory and silver flower arrangements spread out throughout the room. They framed the horizon perfectly and opened up to the expansive veranda that led right into the gardens, allowing guests to move in and out of the estate easily and a perfect view of the spirits' journey across the night sky as we all danced. It was initially my idea to host the people of Velaris in the grand hall, remembering that these were the kind of memories I wanted to make in our new home.

I touched my stomach briefly when Mor wasn’t looking. What would he look like in a year? He would be too small to run around and try to disturb any decorations, so perhaps I would walk him around the estate and show off all the adornments before Rhys and I would put him to bed. We’d no doubt be exhausted, but happy. Maybe we’d celebrate Starfall privately in our suite, just the three of us. I felt that glimmer in the pit of my stomach and I smiled. Would you like that, little one? I thought to myself, wondering if he could hear me.

“It’s perfect!” Elain cheered as she and Nesta walked into the room.

I quickly moved my hand from my stomach as I turned to face them, but not fast enough for Nesta not to take notice. Thankfully, she only raised a perfectly arched brow at me, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Your guests will be arriving shortly,” she reminded me.

I nodded, “I was just about to leave,” I said as I looked over their attire.

Elain wore a delicate soft pink strapless A-line gown with a glitter ombre falling from her bust line down to the floor; a braid crowning the top of her head with the rest of her hair flowing just past her shoulders. Nesta, as conservative as ever, wore a long-sleeved gown in a similar fashion, only in a deep violet with a more subtle glittering effect. Her hair was pulled back in a loosely braided bun, a few loose strands of curls framing her face. Despite her controlled face and aloof attitude, I was glad Nesta still joined us after Cassian all but dragged her here for our first celebration in the estate years ago.

“Nuala and Cerridwen are waiting for you in your suite, Feyre. You go get dressed, and I’ll greet everyone, don’t worry,” Elain said sweetly, brushing her hands over her gown when she realized I was looking, silently asking for my approval.

“Just as she does every year,” Nesta interjected as I offered Elain a nod of assent.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and began walking out, “I’ll be back with Rhys before it starts,” I said and made my way back up to my suite.

As Nuala and Cerridwen began my dressing routine, I began to play different scenarios of the speech I would give Rhys when I announced my pregnancy. Only to realize I didn’t really have a speech at all, and began scrambling for one. As memorable as I wanted this moment to be, I was sincerely lacking in creativity and eloquence. I sighed in defeat as I stood before the mirror, checking over my appearance—the same blue-white liquid starlight gown I adorned every year, and my hair swept away from my face with the same diamond studded combs I wore on my first Starfall. In an attempt to make tonight more memorable for Rhys, I wanted to recreate our first celebration together; I asked the shadowed-twins to style me the same way they had that night.

After dismissing themselves, I ran tentative fingers along my abdomen again before inhaling a deep and anxious breath. “Let’s go tell your father,” I said quietly, resigned with the fact that I would just have to wing whatever speech I would give Rhys for the news.

XXX

An hour into the party, after mingling with our friends and guests, the estate’s lights dimmed naturally and everyone began pooling out into the veranda as the star-spirits began their glittering descent. The sky was soon decorated with the spirits twirling and sparkling forms as the guests cheered with raised champagne glasses.

“Raise a glass, my love,” Rhys purred in my ear as he stepped up behind me, his chest brushing against my back as he offered the glass before me.

I hesitated, knowing it probably wasn’t wise to drink now that I knew I was expecting, but took the glass anyway before turning to face him, “Let’s go to our balcony,” I said as I straightened the collar of his traditional black jacket, tracing over the silver-lined pattern on his lapels lightly.

“Now?” He asked with his smug feline grin, “Usually we stay at least an hour after the dancing’s begun.”

“I know, but,” I paused, chewing over what to say next, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Something you can’t ask me around our guests? He asked through the bond, his feline grin turning into a teasing one

I rolled my eyes before brushing past him and striding down the hall, not bothering to look back to make sure he was coming. Well?

“Oh, I’m right behind you Feyre darling,” he purred in my ear again as his hand brushed over the small of my back, walking in step with me to the hall leading to our balcony.

“As you should be,” I said haughtily.

His dark chuckle reverberated through me, my stomach fluttering as I fought a smile and we stepped onto the balcony together. I walked up to the railing, setting my champagne glass aside and stared up at the sky as the star-spirits continued to sparkle and dance. Rhys’s fingers brushed up and down my spine softly as he watched with me, both of us in a comfortable silence. I watched from the corner of my eye as the stars illuminated his handsome face, a warm smile on his lips and I reached a hand down to hold his.

He turned that smile to me, “What did you want to ask me, my love?”

My heart skipped a beat as a question I was genuinely curious about popped into my mind, “What’s the first memory you have of Starfall?” I asked.

“That’s what you dragged me out here in the cold for?” He asked with a smirk, moving to stand behind me as he slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin atop the crown of my head.

I leaned into his embrace, perching my arms on his. I really do want to know

His sigh was peaceful as he contemplated, searching his memory as we continued to watch the sparkling display. Should I show you or do you want me to tell you?

“Tell me,” I answered quietly. My mind too tangled a mess to allow myself into his without the possibility of revealing my secret prematurely.

His arms tightened around me slightly as he smiled into my hair, “I was five years old. My mother and father brought me to the House of Wind, as they did every year. It was the first I managed to stay awake long enough to actually see the star-spirits,” he explained.

Gentle swells of music began to play behind us, and he swayed us from side to side smoothly. “It was years before they began to drift apart, so their relationship was strong. I remember it was the first time I realized how much they actually loved each other; for a time at least. I used to wonder how honest their love actually was, and my mind would always drift back to the memories of them dancing together on Starfall to remind me. It was also the night my mother announced she was pregnant with my sister.

“We were on the balcony at the House of Wind, watching the star shower. I was sitting on my father's shoulders, pointing out every spirit I saw. I was completely in awe of them. I think seeing my reaction made my mother cry, and when my father asked her what was wrong, she said to him ‘I can’t wait for our next child to look at the stars the way he does.’ The look on his face; the genuine elation in his eyes was enough to convince me that, for at least a part of my childhood, they had real love for each other.”

My eyes burned and my throat thickened as he relayed his memories, holding me close as we continued to sway together as the music continued to play. I moved to squeeze his hands lightly, his arms still wrapped around me from behind.

“That’s a beautiful memory, Rhys,” I whispered, my tears still threatening to spill.

He moved to bury his face in the crook of my neck, planting a kiss there as he breathed a peaceful sigh through his nose; still moving us along to the music, “Beautiful as it may be, my favorite Starfall memory will always be the first we shared together Feyre darling,” he whispered back.

I couldn’t help the few tears that fell as I closed my eyes with a smile, squeezing his hands a little harder. Words failed me in that moment and I opened my eyes again, both of our gazes turning to the sky as a large sprite glittered close to us. I gasped as the star-spirits began vaulting across the sky in greater numbers. They decorated the horizon in an endless dance—like liquid starlight sparkling above us as they danced and twirled. I heard the excited cheers of our guests on the other side of the estate and grinned. Mor was right, this year the spirits returned in vast amounts, unlike I ever imagined or thought possible.

A thought for a thought, Feyre darling?

I smiled and grabbed his hands, moving them from my waist and resting them on my abdomen right as that glimmer pulsed through it. “I’m thinking, I can’t wait for our baby to look at the stars the way you do,” I said.

Rhys stiffened at my words and I turned in his arms, making sure his hands stayed on my stomach as my eyes met his, my eyes burning again “I’m pregnant, Rhys.”

His eyes widened and looked down at where our hands rested, as though he might see the evidence now that I said the words aloud. A second later he dropped to one knee before me, eye level with our joined hands as he caressed my stomach fondly.

His eyes, now lined with silver, met mine again, “You’re pregnant?” He choked out.

I nodded with a sob, my words failing me once again and he sucked in a breath as he looked at my abdomen again. “My son, the son you showed me on your birthday, is growing inside of you...now?” He asked, his throat thick.

I sobbed again, a wet laugh escaping as I nodded, “That’s what pregnant means,” I rasped.

I heard his own strangled sob before he shot up to his feet, pulling me into an embrace and lifting me off the ground as he spun me around, chanting my name over and over again. “FeyreFeyreFeyre,” he sobbed in my hair.

I laughed and sobbed and cried all at once, my arms wrapping around his shoulders as he planted me back onto the ground and held onto my waist. His forehead rested against mine and I brought my hands up to brush his tears away while my own shamelessly poured down my cheeks.

“When I first noticed how different your scent was, I thought it was possible, but I didn’t want to say anything and get our hopes up,” he explained as he brought his hands up to wipe my tears away as well.

“You were suspicious this whole time?” I sniffed with a laugh.

“You’re my mate, I knew something was going on, but you didn’t even seem to realize it so I didn’t say anything,” he said, thumbs running over my cheeks as I held his wrists gently.

I smiled, “To be fair, I didn’t catch on until yesterday, after I fainted. I can’t believe I was so dense,” I laughed in disbelief.

He shook his head, returning his hands and gaze to my stomach “You weren’t...neither of us saw it coming,” he said softly.

“We tried for so long Rhys,” I whispered, my hands coming to rest on his chest.

He caressed my stomach again, “We’re going to have a baby,” he swallowed and his violet eyes met mine. “I love you beyond measure, Feyre. You’ve given me more than I could have ever dreamed of, more than I could possibly deserve, and now,” he dropped to one knee, again surveying my stomach as he continued, “I can’t wait to meet the son you’re blessing me with.”

I sobbed again and wrapped my arms around him as he leaned in to place a kiss on my abdomen. He stayed there for a minute before rising again, slipping his arms around my waist and capturing my lips with his. I kissed him back deeply, holding him close as we resumed moving to the music—dancing slowly as the stars continued their whirling journey beyond the horizon. Our brows pressed together as we swayed, and I draped my arms over his shoulders as his hands held my waist.

After today, this better be your new favorite Starfall memory, I said down the bond.

His answering smile was mischievous. Until next year, when I can dance with you on one arm and my son on the other.

My heart tightened at the thought, and I kissed him again. To the stars who listen, Rhys.

To the dreams that are answered, Feyre.

[xbaepsae]

our little secret | drabble

“To say you are nervous would be an understatement.”

[jeongguk x reader]

genre: brother’s best friend!au

word count: 3.2k

rating: pg-13

a/n: helloooo! for some reason, the original fic has been getting a lot of traction recently. so, i finally found inspiration to write a little follow up drabble. i really meant for this to be a true drabble (which i consider less than 2k words) but i couldn’t stop writing lol. anyway, please excuse any grammatical errors; i never really proofread & enjoy :) xoxo

also, if it isn’t obvious, please read the [original fic] before this drabble to save you from spoilers!

“Why is it harder to see each other now that we actually want to see each other?”

It’s been a few weeks since the beach trip. You haven’t told anyone about the relationship yet. For now, you just want Jeongguk all to yourself.

“So, you didn’t want to see me before the beach trip?” Jeongguk smirks at you, hair disheveled and torso barely covered by your bed sheets.

You don’t think you’ll ever get over the way he looks in your bed. It’s a sight that just looks, and feels, so right. “Of course, I did. What I mean is, now that you’re my boyfriend…I want to see you more—not just to fuck.”

“Say that again,” he smiles.

“Not just to fuck?”

He laughs, “No—the boyfriend part.”

You reciprocate the laugh, “Oh. Hey, boyfriend.”

Jeongguk’s response is to pull your body against him. Your hands cup his face for a kiss, never getting tired of the taste of his lips. His hand move down your body and cup your ass. Beneath you, you can feel him getting hard again. You’re about to tell him you’re ready, but your phone starts ringing.

Pulling away from your boyfriend, you groan and answer the call. “Hello?”

On the other line, you hear your mother’s voice. She asks you how your day has been so far, and then asks, “Are you hungry?”

“Uh…no. why?” you ask, confused by the question.

“Because I’m on my way home right now.”

That has you off the bed, “What?”

“I’m five minutes out—leave the door open for me, yeah? I’m bringing food!”

“Why are you coming home?” The second the words come out of your mouth, Jeongguk gives you a weird look. “Aren’t you working?”

“Your father and I aren’t workaholics all of the time, sweetie. Besides, I thought the rest of today could be a girl’s day. I’m about to turn into our neighborhood right now.”

Your mother hangs up and you look at your boyfriend with a panicked expression. “Fuck—my mom is on her way home right now!”

“Why?”

“Food—I don’t know. But that’s besides the point. You need to leave!”

Jeongguk haphazardly pulls all of his clothes on, hair still completely messed up. You do the same, pulling a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on. After you two are dressed, you throw his things at him and rush him down the stairs. Before pushing him out the door, you press a chaste kiss on his lips and tell him to stop by again tomorrow.

You shut the door with a stuttering heartbeat; and as you finally catch your breath, the door opens again to reveal your radiant mother. “Hey, mom.”

“Hey, sweetie. Hungry?”

“Starving,” you offer a smile, praying she doesn’t inspect your haphazard self too closely.

Your mother hums in response, bypassing you into the kitchen. “I thought you said you weren’t hungry when I called earlier?”

“Umm…I guess I am now?”

You follow her into the kitchen, watching her pull out little tubs of Chinese takeout from the paper bags. Now that you smell the food, you realize you actually are starving. All you ate earlier was a bagel with strawberry cream cheese—not the most filling thing ever.

Grabbing two plates and utensils, you begin to dig into the food. For a second, your mother just stares at you; you’re almost sure she’s caught onto your act. However, the second she begins to eat too, you know you’re safe.

Silence engulfs the kitchen afterwards, the both of you too engrossed in the food. You nearly finish an entire tub of noodles when your mother sets her utensils down. “Did you realize this hunger before or after I saw your boyfriend run across our yard?”

You choke on the noodles and begin to cough violently.

“Honey, haven’t you heard of that saying: mothers always know?”

“I mean…” it’s starting to feel a little too hot in here, you realize.

“I’ve known since we were at the beach, sweetie,” she says, and you suddenly feel beyond embarrassed. “When were you going to tell us?”

Your face feels like it’s going to explode, “Umm…eventually I would’ve said something.”

“But you’re dating Jeongguk—he’s not just anybody, honey. That boy is your brother’s best friend and someone we’ve welcomed into our home with open arms. It’s not that I don’t trust him or anything…but you’re my daughter.”

“I know, mom. He’s not just anybody to me either…” you release a breath. “I like him a lot…even love him, mom. I think I’ve always been in love with him.”

Her expression softens at your words. “I can tell, love. I’m honestly fine with it—whatever makes you happy, makes me happy.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Just…please don’t sneak around anymore. That boy nearly gave me a heart attack earlier.”

You’re unable to contain the laughter that bubbles through your lips. “Okay.”

“I guess the real question is, have you told your brother yet?” your mom asks.

“Nope,” you sigh. “You know how he can be sometimes.”

“Of course,” she laughs, “I gave birth to that little rascal, so I know firsthand.”

You would consider yourself close to Taehyung; he’s your older brother—by only a year and six months—and is generally protective of you. Not in an overbearing way, but enough that it made you off the market while you two were in high school together. Obviously, you were, kind of, off the market in high school despite that notion; but Taehyung doesn’t know that.

In the Taehyung-Jeongguk friendship, you’ve always been the third wheel. Growing up, they made a bit of an effort to include you; but for the most part, you’ve never fit into their duo dynamic. It’s just always been them plus you on the side. So, you don’t know how your brother is going to react.

“What if Taehyung hates me? It’s like I stole his best friend.”

“Your brother wouldn’t hate you,” your mother says. “He’s protective of you and loves you.”

“Yeah, but him and Jeongguk are like this,” you twist your pointer and middle finger together. “They do everything together.”

It’s your mother’s turn to sigh. “True, but I think it’ll be fine.”

“Are you going to tell dad?” you ask.

“If you want to tell him yourself, I won’t. But I don’t think your father would care either way. He loves you, and he loves Jeongguk too.”

“You can tell dad, but I want to tell Taehyung myself. He deserves that at least.”

Your mother smiles, “Good choice.” Suddenly, her eyes light up. “Why don’t we have a dinner together—just our family and Jeongguk—and you can introduce him as your boyfriend.”

“What kind of old school—”

“Hear me out,” she interrupts you. “The dinner will serve as a buffer. Your brother won’t suspect a thing, and your father and I will be there just in case something goes wrong.”

You blink. “Like, you mean if Taehyung decides he wants to beat Jeongguk up.”

“Precisely.”

“Oh god, mom,” you groan. “That would be the worst possible outcome.”

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

***

To say you are nervous would be an understatement.

You’ve been pushing this day off not because you don’t want to confront the situation, but because you’re afraid of how your rather temperamental brother will react. Well, maybe you should call him idiot brother instead because you don’t understand how one person could be so blind.

It’s not like you’re still purposefully trying to hide the fact that Jeongguk if your boyfriend. You think it’s pretty obvious. Now that your parents know, you haven’t really bothered to hide anything. Then again, boys are quite stupid. You would know, you’re dating one after all.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Boys are stupid,” you respond, and the way your boyfriend’s nose scrunches does weird things to your heart. Good kind of weird things. “Especially you.”

Confusion quickly changes into defense on Jeongguk’s face, “Hey, I thought we were over this already—didn’t we decide that we’re both stupid for not saying anything?”

You almost laugh, “Not that. I’m just saying in general.” A sigh leaves your lips. “Why do you have to be best friends with my brother?”

“If Taehyung and I weren’t friends, how else would we have met?”

“We would still have gone to school together,” you offer, but he just raises a brow. “Okay, maybe you’re right—you were too cool in high school anyway.”

“I thought you were cool in high school too,” Jeongguk smiles, “you didn’t care about what other people thought about you—or the fact that you were connected to us.”

“I mean, how else was I supposed to act? Girls were always throwing themselves at you, and they tried to be my friends too,” your mouth presses into a straight line. “I had to be nonchalant.”

Your boyfriend takes that opportunity to press a quick kiss against your lips. Immediately, your lips turn up into a smile. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“From overthinking? Yes,” he says, and you know he’s referring to the Taehyung situation. “It’ll be fine.”

“You sound like my mom right now.”

“If even your mom said that, I believe it.”

Maybe they were right—maybe everything was going to be alright. You just needed to be more positive. It was a beautiful day, with beautiful weather, and you had a rather beautiful life. “I should probably go home and help my parents with dinner.”

“I have to be over by seven, right?” Jeongguk asks.

You nod, “My mom and I are sending my brother to pick up a cake at six-fifty, but the cake isn’t supposed to be picked up until seven-fifteen. This is giving us some time to kill, so come any time in-between.”

He laughs, “Sounds good.”

With a departing kiss, and a few whispers of reassurance, you take yourself off of Jeongguk’s couch and drive home. Once you are home, you see both your parents in the kitchen cooking up a storm. “Woah, what is going on here?”

“We’ve got to impress your boyfriend, right?” your father cheekily asks.

“Ha ha,” you roll your eyes. “But seriously—what is with all this food?’

Your mother only smiles, “Food is the best distraction.”

“Okay…” you don’t get it, but whatever. “I’m going to take a shower before dinner.”

After a quick shower and a little bit of makeup—to make you look more alive than you feel—you run back to the kitchen. There, you see Taehyung talking with your parents and you feel your stomach sink just the slightest. This is all too real.

Hearing you coming towards them, he turns around and narrows his eyes at you, “Tell me again, who this boyfriend of yours is?”

“It’s a surprise,” you reply, forcing your nerves down.

“How come you never said anything before? Like, when you came home from school? He goes to school with you, right?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” you try to change the subject. “Don’t you have a cake to pick up?”

Taehyung scrunches his face, “I’m just saying…it’s a little suspicious.”

Ignoring his comment, you just watch as he grabs his car keys and walks out the door. With the rev of his car engine, you force your nerves to calm down—though it really doesn’t make the nausea go away.

After ten minutes of setting the table and plating the food, you hear the doorbell ring and the nausea ceases for a moment. Ever since you told Jeongguk that your parents knew, he started ringing the doorbell. Despite that housekey, he wanted to appear more “proper” in front of your parents. This admission just made your mother laugh.

Opening the door, you’re about to greet Jeongguk when you realize that you can’t see him. Instead of your boyfriend, all you can see are flowers; a giant bouquet of flowers. You’re speechless at the array of roses, baby’s breath, and sunflowers—all of your favorites, all bundled into one. Not only are you surprised at the mere fact that Jeongguk got you flowers, you’re even more shocked that he knew your favorites. When did you ever mention it?

“Do you like them?” his voice breaks your thoughts as he slowly reveals his face. You notice that his smile reflects your own.

“But how did you know I like sunflowers and roses?”

Jeongguk merely shrugs, a smirk stretch across his lips. “Just a feeling.”

“Well, thank you, boyfriend,” you rise on your tippy toes to kiss him, and he meets you halfway. “I love them.”

As he walks across your threshold, you forget why he’s here in the first place. You forget about Taehyung. You forget about all of your trivial problems. When you’re with Jeongguk, everything fades away—all your worries and stresses; all you can think about is him. Setting the bouquet down, you realize that Jeongguk is staring at you.

“Are you still worried?”

You stop in your tracks, “I wasn’t…until you mentioned it now.”

His gaze meets yours, and in his eyes you know is telling you not to worry. You’re trying not to worry, but it’s a little difficult not to. Especially, when—

Behind you, the door jingles open and your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach. Instantly, your thoughts are running a million miles per hour. You feel the onslaught of panic and anxiety begin to fill your system.

“Hey Jeongguk,” Taehyung walks into the room carrying the cake your mother ordered. “I didn’t know you were coming to dinner.”

Your boyfriend takes the slightest step towards you, which helps to ease a little of the dread you feel. “Yeah, your mom invited me.”

“Did she tell you that my sister’s boyfriend is coming to dinner too?” Taehyung laughs, nodding towards you. “Isn’t that funny? Can’t wait to see who this dude is.”

“I’m standing right here, you idiot,” you roll your eyes, nerves mostly calm. “If you’re going to talk about me, at least wait until I’m not around.”

Taehyung bypasses you, setting the cake down on the kitchen countertop. “Anyway, where’s this boyfriend of yours?”

“How did you pick up the cake so fast?” you change the subject. The cake wasn’t supposed to be ready for another 10 minutes.

“I don’t know,” your brother shrugs. “It was ready when I got there.”

If only you could strangle that cake lady. You had very specific instructions for that cake, and she wasn’t supposed to let Taehyung walk out of that bakery until a certain time. “Well, isn’t that great?”

“Anyway, where is this boyfriend of yours?”

You narrow your eyes. “Why? Are you excited to meet him or something?”

“Maybe…maybe not.”

“You know,” you start, “if you weren’t such an idiot we wouldn’t even—”

“Is he a no show?” Taehyung smirks, cutting you off. “Couldn’t handle the heat?”

“I think he’ll be fine.” Turning around, you notice that your parents are standing beside Jeongguk. When did they get there? Your parents look done with both of your sibling antics, but your boyfriend just blinks at the scene. “Why don’t we all have a seat?”

“But mom,” Taehyung pouts, “what about…”

She silences him with a simple look, and you all make your way to the table. You slow behind your brother and parents, hoping to find solace in Jeongguk’s embrace. He brushes along the small of your back and whispers, “Breathe.”

Everyone takes a seat, and surprisingly—or maybe your brother isn’t a total idiot—Taehyung notices that there were only five seats and plates set up. And they’re all taken now. You watch your brother glance around the table, circling back-and-forth between you and Jeongguk. Oh, come on, Taehyung; don’t make me have to tell you.

“Something’s not right here,” he finally says, and you want to smack him upside the head so bad. “Where is the boyfriend supposed to sit?”

No one says a peep; instead, they all turn towards you. You said that you would tell Taehyung, but you didn’t want to actually have to do it.

“Don’t be mad, but…” you take a deep breath and look to Jeongguk for support; he smiles, and you feel alright. “I’m dating Jeongguk.”

You watch Taehyung’s face morph from confusion to shock, and then back to confusion before it becomes completely blank. For a moment, you’re worried that he’s upset or—even worse—mad at you for dating his best friend. But before you can voice an apology, your brother breaks out into laughter. He’s laughing. What?

“You’re dating…” his fingers point to you and Jeongguk, “each other?”

He waits for conformation; when Jeongguk nods, Taehyung breaks into another round of full-bellied laughter. Now, it was your turn to be confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because I can’t believe it,” he manages to say in-between laughing and crying—you really can’t tell the difference at this point. “We had a dinner just for this?”

“You’re the idiot who couldn’t tell.”

“Well,” Taehyung finally sobers up, “thanks for telling me, I guess.”

You bite your bottom lip, “Are you…mad?”

“Oh, I’m furious,” he says, shocking you. Your brother turns to Jeongguk and instantly narrows his eyes. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you asshole. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from my little sister?”

“Language,” you mother chastises.

“So, are you mad at me? You know, for stealing your best friend?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek.

He turns towards you, and the fury simmers down. “Of course not—Jeongguk and I will still be friends no matter what. I’m just mad that out of all the girl in the world, he had to pick you…you know? You’re my sister and I don’t think anyone’s good enough for you.”

You don’t see this side of Taehyung often—the protective, angry, older brother side of him. Especially not anymore since you’re both adults now. But, although it’s a bit shocking, you admit that you appreciate his reaction. Also, you realize your mother was right; even if he doesn’t voice it much, your brother does love you.

“That’s sweet,” you finally say, “but just so you know, Taehyung, I love him. So, you better get used to it.”

Taehyung scrunches his face before turning to face his best friend, “Well, asshole, aren’t you going to say anything?”

“You’ve always known I had feelings for your sister,” Jeongguk says. “I’m not going to apologize for falling in love with her, but I am sorry that I didn’t say anything earlier.”

“Hmm…” your brother flattens his mouth. “I guess you’re going to pay when I kick your ass.”

There’s a certain gleam in his eyes, along with the knowing smile on Jeongguk’s face, which lets you know that they’ll be alright. What a relief. And when your boyfriend turns to face you, you know that even though this might’ve seemed like the hardest battle, there is bound to be more hardships. However, you’re ready for anything—excited, even. Because as long as Jeongguk is with you, you’ll take it all in stride.

“But can we eat before you guys do that?” you ask with a smile. “I’m starving.”

[cherryrogers]

bittersweet {9}

pairing: boxer!bucky x rogers!reader

warnings: none for this chapter i think ??

synopsis: The world of boxing wasn’t something you knew much about, but after a certain boxer with blue eyes and an irresistible charm wove his way into your heart, you soon learned that it went far deeper than red gloves and gold medals — you thought that the boxer happening to be your brother’s best friend was bad enough, but darker affairs had only yet to come to light.

a/n: ok this part is a bit of a filler to lead into the climax of the story so i’m sorry if it’s not that great !! i honestly didn’t like writing it lmao,,, it was gonna be longer but i thought you know let’s save all the chaos for chapter 10 ;) enjoy the last chapter of (sort of) peace lads x

series masterlist

Warmth gathered in your chest as you took a prolonged sip of scalding coffee, ignoring the burning sensation at the back of your throat. You were onto your third cup of the afternoon, which didn’t necessarily help with the stirring in your stomach. It seemed to only enhance the unsettling thoughts that were overwhelming your mind with worry. However, you feared that without the energy boost the caffeine provided you with, you’d end up just shutting down.

It’d been a few hours now since you’d gotten home from the gym. Steve had tried to persuade you to spend the night at your home home, but you weren’t sure you could bare trying to process everything he’d told you with him around.

You knew that there wasn’t any time to waste. Friday was only four days away; the match would be happening in the blink of an eye as long as you weren’t willing to accept how real everything was. The fighting ring, the illegal trafficking, the case of a missing man which could easily be closed by Alexander Pierce anonymously tipping off the police — how were you even supposed to deal with the situation if you couldn’t comprehend the reality of it? Would you ever be able to?

There was a time when you and Steve were just kids, when you thought that getting into college and finding a job were going to be the hardest things you’d ever had to face. Brock Rumlow was a kid once, too; had he known the horrible impact he’d have on the lives of people who he then hadn’t met yet, you wondered if he’d still want to become who he was today, if he really never had any morals, any sympathy for those vulnerable enough to be manipulated by him.

Bucky had called earlier, and even through the phone you could tell that he was holding back on his words. He only asked you if you were okay, and said that Steve had let him know he’d told you it all. You couldn’t pretend that you weren’t aware of his own secret, though. You were past the point of letting anyone keep secrets about the fighting ring, especially now that you knew you were directly involved.

“You used to be a part of the ring,” You’d stated simply after ignoring his concern over you. “You told Steve; why didn’t you tell me, Bucky?”

The line was silent for a solid five seconds, and you considered just hanging up on him. As if he could sense your impatience, the boxer tried to reason with you. “(Y/N), whatever you think I did, whatever you think I was involved with—”

“What I think, is that my brother is being threatened with a fucking murder charge if he doesn’t fight on Friday, and somehow you were able to get out of the ring without a target on your back. How is that, James? Why are the rules different for you?”

Bucky felt a twinge of shame in his chest. It wasn’t like you were wrong; he hadn’t needed to agree to a deal to leave the ring. He’d most likely had the best experience getting out of there than any other guy had. However, he wouldn’t be surprised if Rumlow still held a strong grudge towards him. Perhaps there was a target on his back that he wasn’t even aware of. Anyone that was unfortunate enough to know Rumlow would tell you he doesn’t like when people go against him, people that he once considered friends. Bucky wasn’t afraid of him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t unnerved by what he could do with the power he had. The power that Pierce could give to him. After all, Brock was just another one of his puppets. Pierce probably had the power to have every single on of his ‘boxers’ locked up, and somehow, he’d be able to get away without a trace.

“Look, I can come over. I can come over right now and explain everything.” He offered, ready to run out if the door in only sweatpants and an undershirt if it meant he could make things right quicker.

“No, I don’t— I can’t. Not today, I can’t talk about it anymore today.” You sighed, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you.

“I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I’m one of them,” Bucky admitted. “You have to know there’s more to the story—”

You cut him off. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Bucky. I don’t think you’re one of them. I-I know the person you are now, I know that you’re nothing like them,” If Steve had his own reasons that’s he was involved in the ring, then you were sure that Bucky did too. It wasn’t that you were worried about; it was why he felt that he had to keep it a secret that didn’t sit right with you. “Can you come over tomorrow? I just— I just need tonight to take it all in.”

The boxer responded evenly, though he could feel his stomach churning. Tomorrow was a day closer to the match, and he still had no idea how he was going to help Steve if everything went south. “Yeah, gorgeous. Tomorrow’s good.”

“See you then, James.” You let out a relieved breath. As Bucky said his own goodbye, you put the phone down and ran a shaky hand through your hair.

You weren’t even mad at Bucky; you hoped he didn’t think you were. Not finding out from him first that he was involved with the fighting ring had you a little disappointed, admittedly, but that didn’t mean your trust in him had disappeared. Today had been... a lot, frankly. You imagined that talking to him the next day would be more productive, and it meant that you could utilise the rest of the day trying to figure out what to think about it all.

Being alone in your apartment, however, meant that your mind wasn’t easily distracted from your problems. That’d been obvious when you decided to set off to see Steve just after Bucky had dropped you home.

The call with Bucky had ended over an hour ago and still, thinking about the entire situation had your heart beating twice as fast. Almost subconsciously, you found Natasha’s contact on your phone and pressed the call button, bringing the device to your ear hesitantly.

Within a number of seconds, she’d already agreed to come over as quick as possible. Upon hearing the waver in your voice when you began speaking, she swore she’d be at your apartment within ten minutes. Even if you couldn’t tell her about what was bothering you, she’d at least be able to take your mind off things for the night.

Unless — you did tell her what was going on?

She worked at a police station, maybe just as a receptionist, but surely she’d be able to do something. Though Bucky had told you the police weren’t ever able to find any evidence of the illegal ring, the circumstances had changed. You were now involved. You were set to be a witness of their crimes in only a matter of days. What if you could be the evidence that the police needed?

Though, both Steve and Bucky had warned you about the secrecy of the ring. If you got the police involved and they weren’t able to find anything again, you’d be majorly screwed. But Natasha wasn’t dumb, and from the way she spoke about her boss, you presumed that he wasn’t either. If you could create some sort of plan before you had to go to the match, maybe the fight could end up being Pierce’s downfall — emphasis on maybe.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Perhaps you’d had too much caffeine; were you really trying to devise a plan to take down an international fighting ring?

Natasha didn’t waste any time sitting you down on the couch when she came bustling inside, insisting that you told her what was going on. She’d never been one for beating around the bush; if there was something wrong, she was always eager to fix it, even if she ended up doing it herself. You weren’t so positive that she could fix your problem this time, however.

But when she called you out for zoning out mid-conversation again, poking at your arm with her pointer finger, you couldn’t help but ask a question that there was no coming back from.

“Do you know who ‘John Preston’ is, Nat?”

The teasing smile playing on her lips fell slowly, replaced with an expression of shock. After a few moments, she swallowed. “The guy that went missing a couple of years back?”

You gave her a nod.

The redhead exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him. I didn’t work at the station when his case was active, but I remember when it was on the news... why d’you ask?”

It was now or never. If you didn’t do anything, Brock Rumlow was going to find a way to win the match on Friday, or he’d have Steve in the back of a police car, or maybe the sick bastard would screw the both of you over, you wouldn’t put it past him. All of a sudden, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“I know what happened to him.”

...

You’d never seen Natasha Romanoff speechless. Her mouth hung open, eyes searching for a sign that you were joking even though it’d be a terrible thing to joke about. Waiting for some sort of response, you only stared at her wide eyed. Then, the shock disappeared.

“Steve knows what happened to him, doesn’t he?”

...

“What?” Now it was your turn to look dumbfounded. “How— you know about—”

“I’m not a receptionist at the station, (Y/N),” Nat revealed, her expression twisting into one of unease. “God, I was gonna tell you. I was gonna tell you months ago, but then somehow Steve got involved and—”

Placing a hand on her knee, you cut her off. “Nat, slow down. What— what do you mean you’re not a receptionist?”

“I was one, up until a few months ago,” She started. “Fury, my boss, he’s sort of... like a father to me. Apart from you, he’s the only person I really trust. One day, he told me he thought I’d make a good officer and that should start to train at the police academy. I told him I wasn’t going to do that, not when I’m twenty years old and college is already enough on my plate. But he was adamant that I should work with him. I’d helped him out on his cases before over lunch, I’d looked over evidence and managed to find things that he couldn’t. So, I became his right hand girl. I don’t work with the police, but if Fury needs help with a case, then I’m the first one he calls to do some investigating.”

“He’s allowed to do that?”

“It’s Fury, he does what he wants.”

That explained why Natasha was constantly at work. How she was balancing working towards a degree and investigating crime, you had no idea.

She continued with an exhale. “Only a few weeks ago, a guy was brought to the station for getting involved in a bar fight. I only saw him as he was being brought through the lobby to be detained, but I noticed that he had a tattoo. I knew I recognised the design from somewhere; it looked like a skull with tentacles coming from the mouth. I managed to dig up some research from when John Preston first disappeared, and apparently the cops found a business card with that exact logo on it in his apartment in New Jersey. No number or email on it, just the logo.”

While her description of the tattoo was vague, you couldn’t help but feel like you knew what she was talking about. The skull, the tentacles... you’d seen it somewhere, you were sure.

“So who was the guy with the tattoo?” You questioned.

“He had a weird name; Wolfgang, I think. Again, I did some research and found out that he was a boxer, a boxer at the gym that’s been speculated to be part of an illegal fighting ring for years — a friend of his had also said he was planning a trip to Brooklyn before he disappeared. I thought that was a little suspicious, so I did some more digging at the station and managed to find the CCTV tapes from the cameras outside the gym from one of the inspections the police did around the time John disappeared. I thought if Wolfgang was a member of the gym around that time too, perhaps I could connect John and the gym together, and maybe even the supposed fighting ring too...

... when I looked at the tapes, sure enough, Wolfgang had been boxing there at the time; he was seen entering the building almost every day. And then I noticed someone else that went there as often as he did... your brother.

I didn’t know what to do. I know Steve isn’t one of the bad guys, so I didn’t report it to Fury that I knew who he was. And there was no other evidence to look at; I still didn’t know if the fighting ring was just a myth, or if John Preston had something to do with it. So I left the case cold, again. But I guess I wasn’t wrong if Steve knows what happened to him. (Y/N), you have to tell me everything you know.”

“He won’t go to prison, will he? If I tell you what I know?” You asked cautiously. It was selfish to ask such a question, you knew. Hundreds, maybe more, people could be saved from trafficking and torture if the fighting ring got shut down, and you were concerned for the fate of one person? One person you know would do anything to protect you, however.

“I can’t promise anything,” Natasha smiled apologetically. “But if the fighting ring does actually exist, he won’t have done anything compared to what other men have done; he won’t deal with the consequences they’ll have to.”

Hesitantly, you nodded. With a nervous breath, you began to recite the story that Steve had told you only hours ago, every word still fresh in your mind. You’d repeated what he’d told you enough times to yourself to know you wouldn’t be missing out any details. First, you talked about Steve’s story, still unable to fully understand yourself how he’d went through all of that for you. Nat seemed a little shocked by it too, with the way her brows raised and her lips remained parted. Though, she was glad to know he had his own reasons for being part of something so horrible, and when she thought about it, she wasn’t actually so surprised at him. He would’ve done it in a heartbeat for anyone who he cared about, especially you.

Then, you told her about where you came into it all. With the match on Friday, you weren’t sure if she’d be able to do anything to help your situation in such a short space of time. But if it meant she knew the fighting ring was very real and who the men behind it were, the ones in Brooklyn, anyway, then you’d be getting somewhere at least.

“Shit,” She let out a deep breath once you’d finished speaking, her face contorted with thought. “I’m sorry you had to get dragged into all of this. This is some dangerous territory to be in.”

You nodded in agreement, biting your lip. “So, could you tell your boss everything that I told you? Could you get the place shut down?”

A light laugh escaped her lips. “I wish it were that easy. It’d be your word against maybe fifty of theirs down at that gym. Plus, it’s been investigated a hundred times and no evidence of illegal activity has been found; we need proof that this is all real.”

“Can’t you question Wolfgang again?”

“I don’t think that’d be such a good idea. They can’t know we’re investigating the speculation of the fighting ring again, otherwise they’ll make it even harder to find out who’s involved and any proof of the crimes they’re committing.”

Natasha sighed. So close. She was so close to being able to prove the fighting ring was real. If she had the evidence to prove that everything coming out of your mouth was true, every single person involved would be getting put behind bars. Flicking her eyes up at you, she furrowed her brows when she saw you deep in thought.

“What is it?”

The realisation had hit you like a truck. “The tattoo. I know what you’re talking about, I’ve seen it before.”

The girl cocked her brow, urging you to go on.

“Sam has a portfolio of every tattoo he does. I remember looking through it and seeing that design; the skull and the tentacles. I didn’t think anything of it then, but now...”

“But Wolfgang has had that tattoo since John Preston went missing, before the tattoo shop had opened,” Natasha pointed out. “I saw it when I was looking at the CCTV footage. It couldn’t have been Sam that did it.”

Leaning back in your seat, you shrugged hesitantly. “Maybe he’s not the only one with that tattoo.”

There was a pause, and for a moment you thought Nat was going to burst out laughing at your attempt of getting somewhere with finding proof. Instead, a smirk pulled at her lips, and she immediately jumped up from the couch.

“Looks like we’re paying Sam a visit.”

* * *

The tattoo shop was only ten minutes away from closing by the time Natasha and you had arrived outside. Sam would undoubtedly be pissed that you’d decided to start a whole investigation only minutes before he could head home, but the any information on the tattoo may have given you some sort of a starting point in trying to bring down the fighting ring.

And if you could connect John Preston’s disappearance with the people that actually killed him, then Steve could finally stop running from his past. And perhaps Bucky, too.

Walking into the shop, you gave Maria a warm smile. She was just about finished packing up her stuff for the day, black jacket on and her bag resting comfortably on her shoulder. When she raised a brow at you and asked you why you were there so late, you only shrugged, being the not-so-great liar that you were.

“Oh, no reason. Where’s Sam?” You asked perkily, your voice an octave higher than usual. Natasha rolled her eyes from beside you.

“Just tidying up in the back,” She replied casually, shaking her head at your odd demeanour. “I’ll see you later?”

“Sure, yeah.” You nodded, forcing a smile as she chuckled under her breath before exiting the shop.

Natasha nudged your arm playfully. “Why are you acting so weird? We just need to see the portfolio.”

You sighed. “I just don’t like lying; it feels immoral.”

“Like when you told Steve that Peter was your boyfriend?” She challenged, earning herself a glare. “I feel like that was kind of immoral—”

“Not the time, Nat.” You huffed, relieved to move on from that conversation as Sam entered the reception area. While she didn’t think hiding your relationship with Bucky from your brother was at all a good idea, she couldn’t exactly blame you for doing so given your current... situation.

The man crinkled his brows as he locked the back door behind him, and the way his eyes narrowed suggested that he wasn’t too happy having late visitors. “You know I close at this time, (Y/N). What do you want?”

Not bothering to joke around with him, you cut straight to the chase. “I’m sorry, Sam, but it’s urgent. There’s... a lot of things going on right now which I can’t explain, but we need your help.”

An unconvinced laugh left his lips, and before he could ask what the hell you were talking about, Natasha decided to speed up the process. There wasn’t enough time to explain anything, not if you were going to start taking down an international illegal fighting ring in four days. Well, try to.

The redhead stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m a private investigator working alongside Captain Fury with the NYPD. We think some of the guys we’re looking for might’ve gotten tattoos here in the past.”

That made Sam snort, and Natasha cocked her brow questioningly. “You’re not a private investigator.”

“How do you know?”

“You’re a twenty year old college student, that’s how I know.”

“Sam,” You said firmly. “This isn’t a joke. I know it sounds crazy, but we’re running low on time here. I swear once everything is over, I’ll explain it all to you.”

The amusement on the man’s face faded upon seeing the seriousness on yours. He wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, but if Natasha really was somehow working with the police, then he guessed it wasn’t something he was meant to get involved with. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you guys are in trouble...”

“We’re not in trouble; just investigating.” Natasha lied, since you were in deep trouble and you were both painfully aware of it. However, the less that others knew, the easier things could get done.

Sam still seemed apprehensive, but after a few moments, he gave in with a sigh. He didn’t take you or Natasha for liars, and truthfully, he just wanted to get home as soon as possible. Hesitantly, he asked you what you needed, and soon enough the three of you were crowded around the reception desk, flipping through Sam’s tattoo portfolio.

The book was thick; Sam’s business had gotten a lot of attention over time, and it seemed that finding the one design you were looking for was going to be impossible. It took around ten minutes, but when you finally turned a page and saw a skull staring back at you, you snapped your gaze up to Natasha.

“That’s it.” You breathed, and you couldn’t help but grin thankfully. Hopefully, this meant you were getting somewhere.

“Do you remember doing this tattoo, Sam?” The readhead turned to the man eagerly.

His brown eyes scanned the design carefully, and after a couple of seconds, he nodded. “Yeah, I do. I remember because around six guys came in wanting this exact tattoo. I just thought they were part of a club or something.”

A club, that was one way to put it.

“Do you remember any of their names?”

He shook his head. “I’m not that great with names, but I think I remember one guy... He didn’t come to get the tattoo, though. He wanted it removed. I think it was... Peter? Or Pietro?”

Pietro Maximoff. The boxer Bucky had told you about; he’d been part of the ring and managed to get out at the expense of losing contact with his twin sister, which explains why he got the tattoo removed if it was a symbol of being apart of the ring.

Natasha glanced over at you, and you offered her a nod to indicate that was all you needed. The two of you thanked Sam for the help before finally letting him close the shop, and your friend didn’t waste any time holding back on asking questions once you’d climbed into her car.

“Do you know Pietro?” She asked, turning in her seat to face you.

You nodded, explaining to her what Bucky had told you about him, as well as his sister having to move out of the country in order to avoid any danger.

“This could be really useful. What if it means that everyone who boxes at that gym has the tattoo? If we manage to shut it down, it’ll be easy to find everyone involved. What if every guy in every gym involved has it?”

That would be convenient, for sure. The theory had you wondering if Steve ever got the tattoo, or if he got it and then had it removed once he managed to get out of Pierce’s clutch. And again, you found yourself wondering if Bucky had the tattoo at some point too.

“So where do we go from here?” You questioned hesitantly. While you and Natasha had made a start on collecting evidence of the fighting ring’s existence, you were going to need a hell of a lot more to make sure that Pierce didn’t find a way to worm his way out of being convicted for every single crime he took part in.

Plus, you were still at risk of being essentially kidnapped by Brock Rumlow in only a number of days; you needed a plan, and you needed one soon.

The girl pursed her lips in thought. “Honestly, I’m not sure. But you’re not going anywhere on Friday, (Y/N). I’ll think of something, I swear on my life.”

Natasha wasn’t one to make empty promises, so her words provided you with a vague sense of relief. It was only a matter of whether the odds would work in her favour, and yours.

* * *

“Hi, James.”

As you smiled softly at the boxer stood in your doorway, you couldn’t help but notice his anxious demeanour. He still thought you were frustrated with him, you could tell.

“Hey.” He breathed. No pet name, no hug; your heart melted for him. Sure, you were a little disappointed you had to find out from Steve rather than Bucky himself about his own past, but if he wanted to make things right and set the record straight, then what reason did you have to hold a grudge?

Sighing, you grabbed one of his hands and tugged him inside, quickly shutting the door behind him before turning to look at him properly. “I’m not mad at you, you know. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Furrowing his brows, Bucky shook his head in disagreement. “No, I shouldn’t be keeping things from you, especially after I told you about everything else—”

“What matters is that you’re here now,” You interrupted him firmly, assuring him that he didn’t have to apologise anymore. “Lets just sit down and talk about it all, okay?”

When he only gave you an unconvincing nod, you leaned in and pressed a long, gentle kiss to his lips. The reassuring gesture seemed to work, as you felt his body relax once he began kissing you back. After pulling away and seeing a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, you couldn’t help but grin too. You didn’t think you could ever be mad at him; you weren’t sure why he was so worried that you were, not when you were so, well, in love with him.

In love; you figured you had to be. Maybe you were simply naive and starry-eyed and you had no idea what it even meant to be in love. Perhaps it was the safety you felt with him, or how his touch managed to ignite a burning fire of affection inside of you. You could talk to him about your mother without feeling awkward or burdensome, the apartment you’d loved so much because you lived in it alone even felt more homely when he was around, resting comfortably on the couch with you in his lap like he was meant to be there.

And maybe he was. Whether it was wrong in the eyes of your brother, in your own eyes even, it didn’t feel wrong. Nothing about being with Bucky felt wrong.

It was the calm before the storm; you were painfully aware of that. Every bittersweet moment spent loving Bucky Barnes was only adding up to the dreaded point where chaos finally ensued. Bucky’s involvement with the ring. Steve’s match. The deal he made with Brock. Steve learning the truth about you and Bucky.

In only days, everything could be different. Everything you know and love could disappear with the snap of Brock Rumlow’s fingers as he remorselessly strips you of your freedom.

So as you took Bucky by the hand and guided him to your bedroom, you savoured the feeling of his calloused fingers against your palm. And as he began to open up about the part of his life he kept locked away, you listened to his every word intently.

Because after the match against Rumlow, as despairing as the thought was, you mightn’t be able to hear the sound of his voice again for a long, long time.

* * *

@kimvmarvel @printedpeterparker @buckyandsebastian @ilovesupersoldiers @asgcrds @bxrnsfeyson @peterparkerbabyyy @broco8 @hotheadbarnes @stormi-ames @founding-fuck-bois @fizzahocleirigh @loveofmychips @fanfuckingtastic04 [ if your tag isn’t working please let me know !! ]

[frostmarris]

notes: hope you enjoy! this ended up being almost twice as long as the first chapter lol but i finally got to the scene thats been in my mind for over a year

Chapter Two

If Deidara was upset when he saw her without the gloves the next morning, he didn't let it show on his face. 

Sakura steps out to find him etching shapes into the snow with the toe of his boot, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and his breath visible in the chill of the winter morning. He looks back as he hears her shut her door, glances to her hands, and turns around to face her with a grin that never falters. She's relieved that he doesn't comment on his gift (or lack thereof) but inwardly feels guilty as she knows he's probably disappointed. But she doesn't want to ruin the gloves by wearing them before they're ready, so she'll take his silent disappointment just for this morning and make sure he sees her wearing them tomorrow.

She has the weekend off, which means today is the perfect opportunity to get the gloves taken care of and run some errands. Of course, she doesn't mention to Deidara that she's not headed to work this morning, wary that he might ask to tag along.

Not that she wouldn't mind him accompanying her for a grocery trip. It's just that her first stop is somewhere… special.

Deidara walks her to the bus stop just like always, subtly hinting for her to drop some sort of baked good off at his place sometime - "Sucks that the apples don't grow in the winter. There aren't a lot of good pie fruits in season this time of year, yeah?" - and she makes a mental note to see what she can find at the farmers market. If she has no luck there, she can always go for canned cherries or just cave and make cookies again.

Sakura waves goodbye as the bus pulls in to the stop and she ends up in a seat on the other side, her window facing the street and not letting her see when Deidara’s smile turns a little sad as he heads home.

She idly checks her emails on her phone as the bus drives its route, getting off at the third stop rather than the fifth. It's a short walk down the downtown avenue, the shops and restaurants not as busy yet as they will be later in the day, until she reaches a small antique store nestled between a smoothie shop and a dog groomer. It's only just opened and Sakura heads in, waving in greeting to the old man behind the counter next to the door.

He looks up from the watch he's tinkering with, easily recognizing Sakura and waving her off.

"Ah, the pink one again," He grumbles, that ever-present grouchy look settled on his face. "Go on, go on. Head on in - and mind the lamp! Some little shit nearly knocked it over last week."

"Yes, sir, of course!" Sakura calls with a small smile as she heads to the back of the shop. "Have a good morning, Mr. Masumi."

He answers with a dismissive, "Bah!" and she carefully makes her way through the crowded, winding path of the antique shop until she reaches a door at the back left corner. Heeding the shop owner's warning, she edges past the lamp settled on the edge of an old dresser as delicately as she can, being sure not to bump the stained glass lampshade with her elbow. Once through the door, Sakura passes a second one on her right marked 'Cleaning Supplies' and walks down the short hallway to the doorway at the end. 

This one says 'Employees Only' but she pushes it open anyways, revealing a small, empty room barely bigger than a closet. Sakura steps inside and shuts the door, not removing her gloved hand from the doorknob as she silently counts to 25 in her head.

Once she hits the last number, she turns the knob, pulls it open, and steps out into a park.

The trick had taken some getting used to, as she didn't have any real magic herself besides her accursed touch and her ability to see the dead. So, she'd had many failed attempts of counting too quickly or too slowly before she finally got the hang of it. Now she was able to come and go with ease, well-practiced after a couple years.

Sakura pulls the door closed behind her and, though she can't see it through the swirling mist contained in the space of the stone archway, she can hear it click shut. She quickly steps forward and out of the way in case there are any other arrivals, looking out over the snow-covered park fondly.

Behind her is the collection of four stacked-stone arches, each facing one of the cardinal directions and connected by short stone walls, making a perfect square. The Landing, as it's called, sits in the direct center of the small, secret park, each arch standing tall and strong and older than Sakura knows. Though the tops of the arches and the corner walls are covered with snow, she can still easily see the sigil carved into the front of each keystone, placed there by whoever had crafted the gateways.

The park, formally named Bowerfield after the flowering vines that climb a majority of the trees and those waist-height stone walls (but never the arches themselves, as they're meticulously kept away from the gates so as not to damage them or meddle with the enchantment), was a lucky find on Sakura's part.

She'd been living in the city for a few months and had no idea how to find its secret magical community - or if it even had one - until she'd happened upon a friendly soul (quite literally) who'd told her about Bowerfield. He'd been a witch while living and could tell there was something supernatural about Sakura and, after a seemingly one-sided chat in the city's library, he'd directed her to the antique shop.

And now Sakura can enter the park freely and visit the… special shops situated around the outside.

The buildings formed another perfect square, encasing the park and closing it off to the rest of the city. The few alleys between some of the buildings all ended with brick walls and the shimmering field stretched overhead kept it hidden from outside eyes. It was a more useful feature in recent years due to things like drones, but had been put in place around the same time as the Landing, from what Sakura had heard.

Bowerfield itself was located somewhere in the southern half of the city, but she wasn't quite sure where. And she wasn't about to try to figure it out. So long as she had access to the secret park, she didn't care where it was hidden.

Sakura follows one of the pebble-covered dirt paths out from the Landing and through the trees to get to one of the walls of shops, double-checking the time on her phone to make sure she wasn't too early. Several of the businesses are still closed and there are few people out and about, but she can see the lights of the storefronts and the twinkling Christmas decorations through the last section of trees, welcoming and warm.

There are a variety of shops surrounding the park. Some are specialty stores - a couple witch shops, magical tool repairs, boutiques for less-standardly shaped beings, etc. - that are able to sell their goods and conduct their services openly without the need to hide, like some places outside Bowerfield. The rest are relatively normal businesses - such as restaurants, a laundromat, the salon, a clinic, and a supermarket - but provide a safe space for people who can't easily disguise their more obviously magical features.

It was the perfect place for someone with, say, an extra set of limbs or wings to go shopping for clothes and grab lunch, all without worrying about normal humans spotting them.

Sakura's destination is a small shop on the northeast corner, strings of red and white lights decorating the face of the building and a small flock of black birds perched wherever they could. A couple of the birds - ravens, judging by the size of them - let out harsh calls as she approaches and Sakura sends the familiar birds a quick smile and a wave before she heads inside.

The ring from the bell over the door is accompanied by another bird's caw, this time from a crow that flies overhead inside the shop. It heads to the back to land on the wooden counter, hopping closer to the dark-haired woman currently securing a paper-wrapped package with sturdy string. Another raven stands just next to her, perched on one of the prongs of a driftwood branch attached to the countertop.

The woman glances up and smiles brightly as she spots Sakura, raising her hand in greeting.

"Ah, Miss Sakura! What brings you in so early?" A magpie flies down from the railing of the loft on the second floor of the shop to land on her raised hand, earning itself an amused huff from the shopkeep.

"Good morning, Mrs. Uchiha," Sakura greets, heading for the back of the store and chuckling when a blue jay drifts down from the second level and lands on her shoulder, playing with her pink hair.

The woman sighs but smiles at her, shooing both new birds away.

"I keep telling you to call me Mikoto, dear," She chastises gently, running her fingers down the crow's back. "You've been coming here long enough."

At Sakura's chuckle and nod, Mikoto's smile returns and she finishes tying off the package before securing a leather strap around it. Holding her wrist out to the perched raven, it steps over onto her arm and is then transferred to the package, its talons curling around the handle attached to the strap and soon taking to the air. Carrying the package, the raven circles the empty air of the upper level before flying out an open window high on the front of the shop, disappearing with a short call.

"Now," Mikoto says, turning to fully face Sakura. "What can I help you with?"

"Just the usual," She replies as she digs through her bag to pull out a fresh box of latex gloves and Deidara’s gift. Mikoto eyes the black gloves curiously and carefully takes them as Sakura hands everything over, a red bubble of magic appearing around the items and floating above her open hand.

"Only the normal enchantment, dear?" The witch asks, writing Sakura's name on the outside of the bubble with a finger. "I can add an anti-snagging spell to the black ones to protect the embroidery!"

Sakura smiles and nods, reaching out to let the crow curiously nip at her fingers. "That'd be nice, actually. They're a gift from a friend."

She waves off Mikoto's sly smile and rocks back on her heels as the woman laughs and heads through a door behind her. When she returns, the red bubble is gone and a second crow is perched on her shoulder, eyeing Sakura curiously.

"They'll be ready in a few hours," She transfers the crow to the driftwood perch and starts to ring her up, shooing curious beaks away from the register. "I can have Itachi deliver them if you won't be in the park around then."

"Itachi…" Sakura mutters questioningly to herself, inspecting the little stand of luck charms on the counter before she glances up at Mikoto in confirmation. "That's your eldest, right?"

The witch nods, smiling happily. 

"Yes! He's visiting for a few days, so I tricked him into working." Mikoto winks before gesturing over her shoulder. "He's probably back in the aviary finding a spot to hide away in and nap. I swear, that boy's become such a night owl!"

Sakura chuckles, vaguely able to put a face to the name, before perking up and sending her an apologetic look.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. I need a rack of phials or something similar - they work really well for propagating plant cuttings." She smiles sheepishly, hoping the witch wasn't too far in the checkout process to add anything else to her bill. "Is it too late to grab it?"

"Of course not!" Mikoto answers, laughing and waving her off. "I should have something like that up with the potion making tools in the loft, left side. Go ahead and take a look, Sakura dear."

She nods in thanks and heads for the set of stairs against the right wall of the building, quickly climbing up to the second floor. The loft itself only covered about half of the space available on the upper level, most of it reaching out from the back to stand over the check-out and a few shelves below. To the left, an arm of the loft stretches out to the front of the store, connected to the opposite wall of the stairs and just wide enough for a few displays. The main section of the loft only had a few shelves and stands, however, as most of it was clear space to give the birds access to the aviary. Against the back is a single door and several, large, open window-slots, with a few perches jutting out from the wall.

There are a couple other corvids sitting on the perches and watching Sakura as she comes up the stairs, calling in greeting and ruffling their dark feathers. She smiles and quickly steps aside as she hears a caw from behind her, letting a magpie glide past as it flies from one of the three large windows at the front of the shop right through a slot and into the aviary.

Hurrying past in case there are any other arrivals or departures, she moves towards the arm of the loft to find those phials. Typically, only Mikoto or one of her employees were allowed up onto the second level, but Sakura had been visiting for long enough that she'd become fairly good at dodging birds. She usually only visited to get her gloves, both latex and the white cotton ones she used daily, fixed up with an enchantment that protected them from her touch, but it was fun to occasionally browse the shop.

Sakura searches the shelves of bottles and tools used for standard potion making before she finds a metal rack with five glass phials, smiling in approval. As she turns to head back towards the stairs, the door to the aviary opens and a young, dark-haired man steps out. She gets a brief glance into the aviary itself, more corvids flying around the large, dome-roofed room from nest boxes to perches to feeders, but quickly refocuses on the man.

His black hair is pulled back in a low ponytail with bangs framing his face and his eyes, just as dark as his hair, look tired - especially with the dark circles. He's pale, but he doesn't have much skin showing for Sakura to be able to tell if it's just his face's complexion or not, and taller than her by at least a full head. The long sleeves of his black shirt likely keep his arms protected from talons and the collar rises halfway up his neck, neat and trim and only a few stray feathers clinging to the fabric.

He blinks at her before nodding his head in greeting, a crow following him out of the aviary before he can close the entrance. It lands on his shoulder and he reaches up to rub the base of its beak, turning to pull the door shut.

"You must be Itachi," Sakura says, holding the rack of phials carefully so that it doesn't slip against the fabric of her gloves. "It's nice to me-"

"Itachi?!" Comes Mikoto's voice from below, her sudden call making a few of the birds squawk and caw. "Finally out of the back, you lazybones?!"

Itachi sighs and moves his hand to have the crow step off onto his fingers, eyeing Sakura before heading towards the stairs with her. 

"Yes, mother," He calls back, just loud enough for her to hear. "I'm here."

"About time!" Mikoto plants her fists on her hips as they come into view, regarding her son with a fond yet motherly-disapproving look. "We've been open for nearly an hour."

He simply bows his head in apology and moves to the counter to collect the other pair of crows, one on each hand and the third perched on his forearm.

Mikoto sighs but shrugs, gesturing to Sakura, who sets the rack on the counter and digs her wallet out of her bag.

"This is Miss Sakura," The witch introduces, disappointed when Itachi only nods again. "She's a long-time customer of ours."

Itachi turns to regard her again, clicking his tongue softly when two of the crows start to squabble.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sakura," He says politely, finishing her sentiment from earlier. "Can I help you find anything?"

Sakura offers a small smile in return and shakes her head, patting the glass phials gently. "No, I'm all set. Thank you though, Itachi."

He nods again and, transferring the third crow to join the pair on his other arm, heads through the door into the backroom. Mikoto sighs once more when he's gone and sends Sakura an apologetic look.

"He's always been such a quiet boy." She shrugs and turns to grab a pen from a cup next to the register, pushing it and a sticky note pad towards her. "Before I forget, go ahead and give me your address, dear. I left my book at home, apparently. I'll pass it on to Itachi and he'll send a crow from his flock to deliver your gloves when they're ready."

Sakura nods and quickly scribbles down her address, soon helping Mikoto wrap up the glass phials once everything's paid for and tucking the package into her bag.

"Take care now, Sakura dear! It's going to snow again tonight, so watch for ice tomorrow."

She smiles and waves before heading for the front door, knowing the witch's forecast was always more accurate than the weather channel's. More black birds (and the occasional blue jay) caw and take flight as she exits the shop, but she pays them little mind and heads back towards the center of the park. Bowerfield is getting busier now that the day is fully underway and, with no other errands to run in the secret park, she's ready to head back out into the city, take a short walk over to the farmers market, grab some groceries, and head home.

Going back through one of the Landing's portals is a little tricky, but Sakura’s much more confident than she was a year ago. She simply reaches a hand into the wall of swirling mist, feels around until she finds a doorknob, thinks of the antique shop, and opens the door. The familiar muffled creak lets her know she's on track and she steps through the mist, entering the small Employees Only room at the back of the shop.

With the door pushed shut once more, she waits 25 seconds exactly and pulls it open, smiling as she finds the short hallway in front of her once again.

There's a few people idly browsing the shop when she leaves the backroom behind and a couple near the display of porcelain dolls send her odd looks when they see her step out, but Sakura simply heads to the front, offers Mr. Masumi a wave in farewell (to which he replies with a short grunt but a wave in reply as well), and steps out onto the street. The air feels different outside of Bowerfield, but Sakura's sure it has to do with the thrum of magic that fills the park, making everything feel duller by comparison for the first half hour or so that she’s back in the normal city.

She walks back the way she’d come but turns when she reaches the corner of the block, heading into the more shopping-focused area of the city's downtown. It takes her about ten minutes to reach the covered pavilion next to an old brewery, already full of the stands and stalls of the farmers market and bustling with early-morning shoppers. 

As she's only only here for a few specific things, Sakura tries to stay focused and not get distracted by the different goods, heading right for a particular product stand that she usually gets veggies from. She pulls a mesh shopping tote out of her shoulder bag and leaves the stand some minutes later with carrots, squash, and potatoes, starting her search for reasonable pie-fruit.

"So, what, I just fuckin' chomp the straw and eat it whole?"

Sakura pauses as she passes by a honey stand, glancing over curiously to see a very exasperated beekeeper and a silver-haired man who seemed to be about five seconds away from taking a literal bite from a honey stick.

"No, sir," The beekeeper says tiredly, obviously trying to resist the urge to run his hands down his face. "You just bite the end to pop it open and then suck out the honey. Please don't eat the tube."

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but the conversation did remind her that she was low on honey at home. Might as well grab a jar.

Sakura eyes the man as she steps to the other side of the stall, inspecting a stack of wildflower honey jars but unable to stop from listening in again as he rears back slightly and curls his upper lip.

"Do I look like a hummingbird or some shit?"

She barely suppresses her snicker and the stand owner quickly turns his attention to her, relieved to have someone else to assist. The beekeeper ignores the silver-haired man's indignant huff and stops in front of Sakura, putting on a smile as he greets her.

"Can I help you find anything, Miss? Would you like a free sample?" He gestures to the stacks of jars and bottles, pretending not to hear the other man complain that he hadn't been offered any free damn samples. "The bees we keep produce really great honey  - the orange blossom is my favorite."

Sakura chuckles and picks up one of the wildflower jars, passing it over as she retrieves her wallet.

"Just this one, please."

"Excellent choice!" The beekeeper quickly starts to ring her up and the man, who still hasn't left, gives an overly-dramatic sigh.

"Fine, keep your damn sticks. Just tell me where I can find a stand that sells rocks and shit."

The owner groans tiredly but Sakura steps in, fairly familiar with the market.

"There should be one on the other side of the pavilion," She offers, finally taking a good look at the man as he turns to her. His silver hair is slicked back and shiny, just long enough to reach the bottoms of his ears, and his eyes are an odd magenta color, scrutinizing Sakura curiously.

He looks rather out of place with his studded leather jacket and ripped jeans - especially considering how cold it is today - and she's fairly confident that he's never been to the farmer's market. 

The man nods and rubs his chin, his jaw sharp and strong, as she continues, gesturing towards the north part of the market.

"They're usually near the people that sell all the house plants and succulents. So look for a lot of green and you should find it."

He looks her over one last time before grinning and raising his hand in thanks as he turns to head the way she’d directed.

"Thanks, lady." The man says, rolling his shoulders to adjust his jacket. "At least someone up here is fuckin' helpful."

Sakura sends his back a curious look as he walks away, but shrugs it off and passes cash over to the relieved beekeeper. With the jar of honey slipped into her tote, she heads off to find her fruit, trying her best to not get distracted again. She keeps an eye out for that odd man but soon gets distracted by another produce stand, grinning at the sight of fresh pomegranates.

Vaguely remembering a recipe in one of her books for a pomegranate pie, she hurries over and starts to pick some out as she tries to recall how many she'd need.

If Deidara wants a pie, he's gonna get a pie.

: :

Sakura's just in the middle of peeling potatoes when something starts tapping at her kitchen window. She glances up, stood at the sink, to see a crow on the windowsill and softly pecking the glass with its beak. It gives a muffled caw and flaps its wings when it sees her looking back at it before hopping down to her small bistro table in the backyard, a wrapped package sitting next to it.

She smiles and slips her rubber gloves off to reveal cotton ones before hurrying to the back door and out into her yard, careful to be quiet so that Deidara doesn't happen to hear her and look outside. Even carrier pigeons aren't exactly a common sight among humans nowadays, so she isn't sure how she'd explain the crow and its delivery.

Closing the door as gently as she can, Sakura steps out onto the snow-covered yard and approaches the table, smiling in greeting at the bird and reaching out to give it a soft pat before she reaches for the package. Unclasping the leather carrying strap, she unwraps the paper partially to make sure it's her gloves before nodding to the crow, humming gently. She gives it a quick scratch under its chin before starting to step away, tucking her package under her arm.

"Wait just a moment, please," Sakura says softly, the crow tilting its head to watch her curiously. "I'll grab you a treat before you head back home."

It gives an enthusiastic caw and she chuckles, hoping her neighbors hadn't heard as she quickly returns to her kitchen. She sets her wrapped gloves on the table before retrieving a shallow bowl to fill with some lukewarm water, grabbing a handful of blueberries, and heading back out. Pleased to see the crow waiting patiently on the bistro table, Sakura moves to clear some snow off before setting the water and fruit down, smiling when it hops closer and eagerly accepts the treats.

"I thought birds are supposed to fly south for the winter, yeah?"

She fully jumps in surprise, startled by the sudden sound of Deidara's voice. Looking up, she sees him leaning out of a window on his second floor and lets out a huff as his grin grows wider.

"Sorry, Sakura," He says, stifling a laugh and crossing his arms as he rests them on the windowsill. "Did I scare you, hm?"

"You just surprised me," She looks back down to the crow, picking up one of the blueberries and offering it to the bird as she ignores Deidara’s chuckle. Relieved that she'd taken the package inside already, Sakura pets its feathers and glances up again when he continues.

"Make a friend? I heard it squawking and couldn't help taking a peek, yeah." He scrutinizes the crow with a curious frown, snorting when it gives a harsh caw and flaps its wings in his direction.

Sakura calms it with another blueberry and steps back when the bird takes off, finished with its delivery and snack. Shrugging, she picks up the bowl and dumps the water out, making a mental note that she really should put a bird feeder or a birdbath out here for future deliveries from Mikoto.

"It was probably just passing through," She answers finally, crossing her arms and leaning against the table as she looks up at Deidara. "I saw it through my kitchen window and wanted to see if it'd take any treats. Maybe I can make friends with a flock of ravens like those stories on the internet."

She deliberately misidentifies the crow but he seems eager to change the subject, propping a first under his chin.

"You got home early, hm. Short work day today?"

Sakura looks away and brushes a bit of snow off her sleeve, barely feeling the chill through her gloves. "I was just out running errands."

"Awww," Comes Deidara's voice, a slight whine to his tone. "I would have come with you if I'd known!"

She doesn't bother to hide her smirk but quickly crosses her arms again when a breeze passes through the yard, trying to suppress a shiver.

"How do you feel about pomegranates?" Sakura asks, changing the subject herself. She plans on making that pie tomorrow, but it'd probably be best to make sure he actually likes the fruit. When she looks up at Deidara, his expression looks rather conflicted and he sends her a slightly disappointed smile.

"Good shit, yeah. But it's cold out; you should head back inside, Sakura," He sighs, obviously wanting to continue the conversation but very aware of how another breeze makes her shiver. "I don't want ya getting sick just 'cause I'm a big chatterbox."

Her smile turns fond and she pushes off from the edge of the bistro table, brushing any lingering snow off of her house robe before raising a hand in farewell.

"See you later, Deidara. Stay warm."

He returns the sentiment, not budging from his spot until she's back inside, and she misses how he looks in the direction the crow had flown. Deidara frowns to himself before finally pulling back and closing his window, locking it with a soft click.

: :

Monday morning, Sakura heads out dressed in her usual white button-up, silk scarf, and long skirt combo. But, this time, she's sure to tug the black, embroidered gloves onto her hands, smiling as Mikoto's enchantment holds and they don't turn to gold. House keys in hand, she steps out to see a fresh layer of snow on the ground and Deidara shoveling his stoop clean.

He looks up to greet her but, at the sight of her hands, he cuts himself off and the brightest grin she's ever seen from him bursts onto his face. Dropping the shovel, he practically vaults over the hedge separating them and stops just short of taking one of her hands in his own, still beaming but looking a little more sheepish as he steps back.

"You're wearing the gloves!" Deidara says, foregoing greeting her as he's obviously too excited. "How do they fit, yeah? Not too tight?"

Sakura smiles gently and he backtracks as she steps down and moves for the street, slipping her keys into the bag on her shoulder.

"Morning, Deidara." They immediately fall into their morning routine as she heads for the bus stop, his smile never leaving his face. "They fit just right. Thank you again."

His grin widens and he rubs the back of his head, avoiding a pile of snow that was most likely hiding a trash can.

"Great! Awesome, yeah!" He nearly slips on a patch of ice in his excitement and Sakura quickly reaches out to catch his arm, chuckling under her breath when his face turns a little pink.

"I-I'm glad!" Deidara says, trying to brush the moment off and recover. "They look good on you."

"You've got good tastes," Sakura replies, holding a hand up to appreciate the embroidery. "The stitching is excellent."

He's got an admirable pep to his step and, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, Deidara tilts his head slightly as he looks at her, his blue eyes sparkling.

"I can give you a referral if you wanna update your collection. Or get some of the older ones embroidered, hm."

Sakura hums thoughtfully, taking a sip from her thermos. "I might take you up on that, actually. The all-white look is a little plain…"

Deidara’s smile grows all the wider and he's quick to pull his phone out, typing silently for a few moments before he sends her a text with all the information. Sakura feels her phone buzz in her bag but decides to check the address later, instead turning her focus to discussing the benefits of touchscreen-compatible gloves versus the ruined aesthetics of the pad on the fingertips. They chat amicably as they walk, careful of ice and snow on the ground before, eventually, they're at the bus stop.

Sakura inconspicuously brings up pomegranates again while she waits for her ride, planning on bringing the finished pie by his place after she gets off work. She'd overestimated just how many she'd need for the recipe and had ended up with enough seeds for a second pie but, by the time the bus pulled up, she was confident that she'd only be eating one by herself.

Deidara wishes her a good day as she boards and Sakura waves at him through the window once she's seated, pulling out her cellphone. As the bus pulls away from the curb, she checks his text and looks up the shop, saving the location for future reference. Maybe she would get some of her plain gloves touched up with some nice embroidery or something.

The bus ride passes uneventfully and, by the time she arrives at the coroner’s office and gets her assignments for the day, she's pretty sure her shift will pass uneventfully.

That is, until her assistant unzips the black body bag and Sakura finds a vaguely familiar face on her examination table. 

Her hands, holding the clipboard and pen, low slightly as she frowns in confusion, trying to recall why this corpse seems so familiar. Jun sends her a curious look and she shrugs it off, beginning her external examination as she pushes her confusion to the back of her mind. She writes down a few notes as she speaks aloud, her Dictophone sitting nearby on one of the counters against the wall and recording her verbal report.

"Identity: Unknown. The victim appears to have suffered a gunshot wound to the forehead," She says, circling the table while her assistant drags the rolling tray of tools closer, waiting for her to give him the go-ahead to start removing the clothes. "Judging by the powder tattooing and seared skin around the entry wound, but the lack of a muzzle imprint, the shot was likely taken at close range, but not in contact with the victim's head."

She moves her head around for a better angle at the hole in the man's forehead, but doesn't reach out to move his hair away from the wound yet. The hole is circular and about half an inch wide, the edges of the skin blackened and burned with a wide zone of powder soot around the entry point. The reddish-brown stippling on the skin (pinpoint abrasions from unburnt powder grains leaving the gun) indicates that the man had been alive when he was shot.

"Complexion: pale. Hair: short and silver. Eyes…" Sakura reaches out and carefully lifts one of the corpse's partially-open eyelids with a gloved finger and pauses at the sight of magenta irises around the dilated pupils. She blinks, lips parted, and suddenly realizes why the man seems so familiar.

"Dr. Haruno..?"

Sakura glances up as Jun calls to her and straightens, clearing her thoughts.

"I'm alright - let's continue."

She takes a much better look at the corpse's face and inwardly confirms that this is definitely the man she'd bumped into at the farmers market two days ago. Vaguely recalling that the report had stated the body had been found outside the hospital this morning, she makes a mental note to read it more thoroughly after the examination.

Sakura always suspected that, one day, she'd end up performing an autopsy on the body of someone she kinda-sorta knew, but this is the first time that's happened. Rather unprepared, she's feeling a little… off her game. But also more intrigued than usual.

She can't help but wonder about the motive, about what had led to the silver-haired man being shot nearly point-blank. The body was in the very early stages of rigor mortis, which meant he hadn't been killed very long ago - most likely just before he'd been deposited on the hospital street. He was dressed in different clothes than she remembered, so he had at least made it home that evening.

"The victim is familiar to me," She says aloud for the recording, ignoring Jun's sudden, shocked expression. "A report will be made to the case investigator after the autopsy is completed."

Her assistant looks like he wants to say something but glances to the Dictophone, so Sakura steps over, pauses the recording, and turns to him.

"You have something to say, Jun?"

"Excuse me, Dr. Haruno," He answers, looking a little embarrassed at having stopped the examination. "Do you… know this man?"

He asks the question cautiously, unsure if she had some sort of emotional attachment to the victim and if he should go get Dr. Sato. But Sakura waves off his question and readies to start the audio recording again.

"I saw him in passing when I was grocery shopping the other day," She answers, shaking her head slightly when Jun relaxes. "I just recognized his face."

The external examination continues and Sakura keeps an eye out for any lingering shapes in the corners of the room. But she finds none, even after the initial review is completed, Jun finishes undressing and bagging the clothes, and they bring the body back from radiology and pin the X-rays up.

Sakura turns the lifeless head to take a second look at the exit wound, having already reported that there don't appear to be any other signs of injury on the man's body. She continues to speak aloud as she measures the larger hole at the back of his head, Jun pulling an empty cart closer as she begins to remove broken, misplaced skull fragments and tries to clear the wound as much as she can. She takes pictures both before and after and then has her assistant clean the wound while she grabs a few more photos of the body, providing evidence that there likely hadn't been a struggle.

Once the exit wound is clean, Sakura moves to take another picture, but pauses as she notices something at the nape of his neck. She rolls the body onto its side and angles the overhead light before grabbing a rectangular magnifying glass off the cart of tools.

"Did you find something, Dr. Haruno?"

She feels carefully at a spot at the back of his neck, just below his hairline and to the left of his spine, with her fingers, frowning as the round, red spot on his skin seems to belong to something hard puncturing his flesh. She glances to the X-rays but doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"The victim appears to have something embedded in the back of his neck," She says aloud, detailing its location before grabbing one of the rulers on the rolling tray. With Jun holding the ruler in place just next to the red spot, Sakura takes a couple pictures and verbally logs the size.

"The foreign object measures a quarter-inch in diameter, is a perfect circle, though slightly jagged around the edges, and is red in color." She exchanges the ruler for tweezers and has her assistant hold the magnifying glass as she attempts to spread the skin around the spot with her fingers, giving her better access to get the tweezers around it. It takes a bit of finessing, but she soon gets a grip on the object and carefully pulls it out.

It's only about an inch and a half long, with one end (the outer end) flat and the other sharp and pointed. Sakura holds it up to the light and notes that the red color is due to the blood coating it and, after placing it in a shallow tray on the cart, moves back to the man's neck. With a little searching she finds a second spot on the opposite side of his spine, perfectly mirroring the location of the first. She repeats the process of describing the foreign object, measuring, and taking photographic evidence, before removing a nearly identical shard.

With both items placed in the tray and the ruler held next to them for reference, she takes another few photos before sending Jun to clean them.

"Is it glass, doctor?" He asks as he takes the tray. To which Sakura answers with a curious, "I don’t think so."

While he cleans off the shards, she examines the wounds left behind, takes another photo, then rolls the body onto its back once more.

Once everything is clean and Sakura can better identify the foreign objects, she realizes they're small crystals of some sort. The edges aren't perfectly smooth like quartz - instead, they jagged and ridged, but run evenly down the length of the crystals, as if someone had taken hundreds of incredibly thin sticks and fused them together. They are white but not completely opaque, allowing the blood to reflect through and make the flat ends look red from the outside.

She recalls how he'd been looking for a 'stand that sells rocks and shit' and can't help but wonder if it was connected.

Sakura takes several pictures from different angles before bagging the shards for evidence and making a note to try to identify them later when she was on her computer. Returning to the autopsy, she takes tissue samples for histology and blood for toxicology and typing before turning the examination inward.

The organs are measured and weighed, checked over for any abnormalities, and returned to the body. With no evidence of soft tissue trauma or even a single broken bone - 

(It's rather odd, she can't find any signs of old injuries, not even scars from childhood. For such a rough-looking guy like she remembered, it was strange that he seemed to have not retained evidence of a single even mildly serious injury in his life.)

 - anywhere besides the hole in his skull and the bullet path through his (otherwise normal) brain, the case is shaping up to be a fairly standard gunshot-wound-to-the-head homicide.

Besides the odd crystals she'd found stabbed into the nape of his neck, of course.

Sakura stitches the body back up, returns it to its bag with help from Jun, then approves it to be taken down to the morgue while she compiles her findings. All the while, she searches out of the corner of her eye for a lingering spirit, disappointed when she finds none.

It wasn't uncommon. Sometimes souls passed on by themselves without her aide or simply wandered off elsewhere. But, she can't help admitting that she is curious about this case and wishes she could speak one last time with the silver-haired man and find out what might have happened.

For now, however, she has other cases to attend to.

: :

It takes some searching, but Sakura eventually identifies the crystals as selenite.

She lingers on a web page describing its 'abilities' in aiding in sleep and deep peace for a moment before closing the tab and adding her find to the report. She'd already called the investigator in charge of the case to set up a time to talk about how she'd seen the man before and was now mostly through with her reports for her other cases and recordings for the day. He still hadn't been identified and no one had come forward with a missing person's report, but he'd technically only been dead for about twelve hours, so it might be a while before someone realizes he's missing.

It was hours later now, already past the end of her day, and Sakura debates opening back up that tab she'd just closed, wondering if the crystals were toxic. But, she's tired and it's been a long shift, so she'll save that idea for tomorrow and finish downloading her audio file and photos for the silver-haired man's case before locking up and heading home.

She leans back in her chair and balances a pencil on her upper lip as the files upload, alone in her office as Sato had already left for the evening. Her gaze crawls over to the corner of the room every so often, still hoping his spirit would appear, but she truly is completely alone. When her computer alerts her that the transfer is complete, she takes a moment to scroll through the photos and pauses as she realizes she'd missed something.

Though she had pictures of the silver-haired man with the trail of blood running down his face and his hair in a disarray, she'd apparently neglected to take a photo of him all cleaned up and his features much more identifiable.

Sakura curses under her breath, drops her pencil in a mug of pens, and slips the memory card back into her camera. Quickly emailing the audio recording to the transcriptionist, she closes down her computer, grabs jer coat and bag, and decides to get a picture before she goes home. Leaving her office, she heads down to the changing room next to the lab but forgoes changing into her scrubs. Instead, she simply swaps Deidara’s gloves for a latex pair, tucking the former in her skirt's pocket, and steps into a pair of sterile booties to cover her shoes.

She keeps her coat folded over her arm and her camera in hand as she heads to the pair of swinging doors that lead down to the mortuary. Once through the entrance, she follows the sloped incline path on her right down to the sub-level. It turns once, doubling back in the direction she'd come but still in a descent, and the stone walls, painted white, are far enough apart for her not to feel claustrophobic. There's enough grip on the shoe coverings for her to not slip on the linoleum and she passes a janitor swabbing down the flooring, raising a hand in greeting.

It's always quiet in the Northwest building, as the doctor offices and patient rooms are in the East wing, but it's late enough in the day that most employees have already gone home. Sakura isn't too bothered, as she's used to staying late, and she enters the morgue fairly quickly after swiping her ID card when she reaches the locked pair of doors at the end of the sloped hall, heading for the wall of steel fridges. There's only the single entrance into the chilly room, with the ramped corridor leading upstairs rather than an elevator to better transport bodies up to and down from the pathology department, and it's completely empty - besides whatever's in the coolers.

There's a tall rolling table near the entrance, the metal top covered by a long sterile sheet that someone had left out. The edges of the fabric reach down to the floor on three sides and Sakura clicks her tongue at the sight, wondering who'd neglected to put it up, but deposits her coat on top of the table anyways. She searches the wall of body drawers for the right label and eventually opens one of the doors, pulling the sturdy metal tray holding her mystery man out of the just-under 40 degrees Fahrenheit cooler. Making sure her latex gloves are secure, she pulls the sterile sheet covering the silver-haired corpse down to mid-chest and looks over his admittedly handsome face one last time before brushing his hair away from the hole in his forehead and raising her camera.

Sakura takes a couple photos before reaching out to lift an eyelid, needing to get a shot of his eyes.

She jerks back with a startled gasp, however, bumping the tray with her leg, as she finds those magenta irises surrounding constricted pupils.

Hand on her chest and her eyes wide, she stares at the body for a long moment, wondering if she'd just imagined that. Pupils are supposed to be dilated after death until rigor mortis makes the body's muscles begin to tighten once more. And the frigid temperature of the drawers was supposed to postpone those effects; he shouldn't have entered that stage yet.

Sakura keeps staring for a moment, noting that she'd disturbed his arm when she bumped the tray and it was now hanging limply over the edge. Taking a breath and inwardly telling herself that she'd been mistaken, she steps forward and moves to lift his arm back up onto the metal top, but pauses as she notices something on his palm. Holding his wrist, her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she inspects the odd symbol drawn on the palm of his hand, absolutely certain that it hadn't been there before.

She traces a gloved finger over the curves of the line but freezes when the dark brown mark begins to turn red. When it starts to glow, Sakura quickly shoves his arm back under the sheet, covers his face again, and moves to push the tray back into the fridge. Something was going on and she wanted no part in it.

She stops mid-push, however, at the sound of a loud thud out in the hallway and glances over her shoulder. It must just be the janitor but Sakura steps away from the corpse anyways, leaving the tray pulled completely out, and approaches the double doors of the morgue. 

The two doors, sturdy and coated in a sheet of sterile metal, have twin windows at the top third and she curiously peeks out into the hallway, her eyes going wide as she sees the janitor collapsed on the ground. The upper half of his body is just within view and the rest is out of sight around the corner of the turn in the hall and Sakura hurriedly moves to grab her ID card. She pauses as she pulls away from the door as her eye catches movement and she watches as the janitor's body is dragged out of sight, leaving a trail of blood on the linoleum.

Slapping a hand over her mouth as she gasps, Sakura quickly pulls away from the door and presses up against next to it, no longer within sight through the window. She takes a breath and just barely peeks over the edge, her stomach dropping as she spots two figures dressed in black rounding the corner.

Heart pounding, she ducks down, backs away, and searches for another exit, though she knows there aren't any.

But the soft groan from behind her makes her freeze and, reluctantly, Sakura slowly turns around.

The body of the silver-haired man is sitting upright on his tray, a perfect 90 degree angle and the sheet still covering his head. As his hand raises to slowly pull the cloth down, the symbol on his palm glowing bright red and an unwounded forehead coming into view, Sakura can hear the beep of the scanner outside the mortuary as an ID badge is swiped. She shoots a quick glance over her shoulder, filled with panic, and grabs her coat before diving under the tall table nearby.

She takes just a moment to right the edges of the sheet laid out over the table, the uncovered fourth side luckily being the one that's pressed against the wall, and lays as still and as quietly as she can. 

Listening to the sound of the doors opening, she can hear a quiet conversation abruptly stop as the intruders undoubtedly notice the moving - living? Reanimated? - corpse. All is quiet for a moment and Sakura is able to peek out from under the sterile curtain hiding her just enough to see shoes near the doors.

She can't stop how she jumps when there's a sudden gunshot but does manage to hold back her startled shout. 

Ears ringing and the floor cold under her, pink eyebrows furrow at the indignant, "What the fuck," that comes from the direction of the silver-haired man.

"You fucking shot me, asshole!" Comes his familiar voice again and she watches one pair of boots rush towards him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Growls a new voice, followed by a grunt.

"Same question to you, jackass!" Another grunt and Sakura can hear bare feet hit the ground and the sound of two bodies struggling to grapple each other before another gunshot. This time it's muffled and, from her left, she can see knees hit the ground hard and a puddle of blood quickly drip onto the floor.

"Quit it!" His voice again, but he sounds more annoyed than a man who'd just been shot - again - should be.

(Well, maybe the annoyance was justified. But there wasn't any panic or fear in his tone.)

"That fucking hurts, you shit-for-brains! And not even the good kind!"

"Shut your damn mouth before I blow your brains out." The second man's hiss is furious and he obviously doesn't appreciate when the silver-haired should-be corpse laughs.

"Too late!"

"What's he doing here, Sakon?" Comes a new voice, Sakura's head turning to look in the direction of the third man. "Why's he- Is he naked?"

The conversation and scuffle abruptly ends as they all, Sakura included, hear the sound of someone running down the incline hall above. They're headed down for the mortuary and a low, quick whistle from 'Sakon' has the other man moving away from the open door to crouch down next to the table she's hiding under.

She freezes and muffles her breathing in the fabric of her coat, glancing from the shadow to her left to what she can see of the exit just a few feet away from her. The footsteps slow as the new arrival approaches the doors and she can hear the click of a gun being readied next to her.

"Hidan?" Comes a cautious voice, and Sakura's heart nearly drops at the familiarity of it. "What the fuck did you d‐"

"DUCK!"

The shout was preceded by a grunt and a yelp and then immediately followed by the newcomer dropping to the ground and the sound of a gun being fired just seconds later. There's a chorus of curses, grunts, and shouts and the sound of fists hitting flesh until everything falls quiet again.

"Alright," Says intruder #2, panting and still standing just next to Sakura's hiding spot. She can see another pair of boots just in front of his own and guesses that he'd grappled the newcomer into a hold and was likely threatening him with his gun.

"Let my brother g-" He cuts himself off and Sakura looks out to her left, bare feet planted behind another pair of boots and facing the men next to her. "Wait, you don't even have a weapon!"

She moves her gaze to the unblocked, still open door, trying to determine how long it would take for her to scramble out from under the table and run for the exit. As silently as she can, she removes the plastic coverings over her shoes.

"I don't fuckin' need one when I've got this!" Silver-haired man says, probably showing off… something that warranted a growl from the intruder and his apparent brother.

"What the hell are you snakes even doing here, hm?" Comes that painfully familiar voice. Sakura bites her lip and stays silent, waiting for some sort of opening as she moves her knees under herself.

"None of your business. Now shut up before I put a bullet in your chest. I know you won't heal like loudmouth over there."

She hates that she can't see much of anything, just the white fabric walls around her, but listens intently to every sound and movement. It's all she's got to give her some idea of what's going on above her, trying to figure out where all of the men stood based on what she can see of their shoes and her knowledge of the mortuary's layout. 

There's another grunt and the sound of a gun muzzle being jammed harder against a body before she sees newcomer's boots slowly turn and plant more firmly on the ground.

Though Sakura isn't able to see the silent conversation that passes between two of the men's gazes, she's acutely aware of the low humming that suddenly starts to build near the wall of fridges.

"What the fuck is that noise-?!" 'Sakon's' question is abruptly cut off by a sudden crack and boom and Sakura glances over just as a body hits the ground and the slack face of man she doesn't recognize comes just barely into view. She sees pale blue - nearly grey - hair and green-painted lips and hears a furious shout from above her, followed by a gunshot and a second body collapsing next to the first. There's the sound of grunts and muffled punches and the splatter of blood and Sakura knows this is her chance, while everyone is either distracted or incapacitated.

As the newcomer drops down and rolls to avoid a shot from the remaining brother, she tears her latex glove off with her teeth and reaches one hand out to touch the boots still stood next to her hiding spot. 

They instantly turn to solid gold and, as he takes a step to go after the man with the horribly familiar voice, the new heavy weight of his shoes takes him by surprise and he falls forward. Sakura scrambles out from under the table, clutching her coat and camera, and races out of the room, just barely catching a glimpse of a blond-haired man's back as he crouches down behind a counter across the morgue.

Her gaze meets a shocked black eye and a face identical to the one she'd seen just moments earlier but she's already out the door and around the corner before she can really think on it. Nearly tripping on the janitor's body as she races up the hallway, Sakura stuffs her camera in her bag, still on her shoulder and crossed over her body, and curls her ungloved hand into a fist. She keeps it held close to her chest but doesn't let it touch her clothing and, once she's shoving through the swinging doors and back on the upper floor, she runs for exit to the loading bay near the storage room.

The heavy doors are propped open, a disturbing sight, but she races through them anyways and enters the delivery dock just as she hears distant gunshots from behind her.

It's only once she's a full two blocks away that she stops running, panting heavily as she leans against a brick wall and tries to catch her breath. She hadn't been followed, fortunately, and she debates calling the police, groaning as she slides down to collapse on the concrete. 

She knows she should but she can't bring herself to do it, recalling that voice she knows so well and that familiar blond hair. 

What was Deidara doing there? He'd called the other man, the silver-haired corpse, 'Hidan', which meant he knew him. It couldn't have been a coincidence that he'd just randomly showed up either. Something was going on and Sakura neither knew nor wanted to find out.

She shivers as a cold breeze passes through the street, bringing a fresh snowfall with it, and takes a deep breath to calm herself down. Her coat is still folded over her arm, but she needs to get her ungloved hand covered before she can even attempt to put it on, not wanting to ruin it and have to lug it back to her home. 

A few snowflakes drift down and land on her curled fist and she curses under her breath as they turn to gold before they can even begin to melt against her skin. The light from the street lamps catch on the golden snowflakes as she shakes them off her hand and she digs around in the pocket of her skirt for Deidara’s gloves, glancing down the dark street.

Sakura's stomach sinks when she only finds one of the black gloves.

She hesitates, digging around in her pocket again and then searching through her bag just in case, before finally standing. Luckily, the remaining glove is just the one she needs and she worriedly tugs it on, one hand covered with black and the other with latex. A look back the way she'd come confirms that she hadn't dropped it just now and she pales slightly, realizing it likely fell out of her pocket when she had left her hiding spot in the mortuary.

Running a hand nervously through her hair, she stands there on the street for a long, long moment, staring back in the direction of the hospital, before finally turning around. She pulls on her coat and crouches down to collect the golden snowflakes, her expression grim, until she's satisfied that she's found them all.

Straightening up, she sends one last glance over her shoulder before hurrying down the street to find a bus stop. She needs to get home.

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 3

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing and fluff. I think that’s it.

A/N: Italics are internal thoughts.

Chapter 2

Deciding not to keep the fact the Chris texted you a secret from Scott, you quickly fired off a text to let him know about the exchange. He probably already knew. After all, he did give him your number. But just in case he didn’t know, you wanted to give him the heads up. Not that it would become a regular thing. Of course, it wouldn’t. Sure, the two of you texted for almost two hours last night, but it was probably a one and done kind of thing.

Y/N: Are you just passing out my number to random dudes now?

It was pretty early in the day for you to text him, but you were already at the venue for the Jonas Brothers concert and you weren’t sure what time you’d be home.

After grabbing a beer and picking out a seat in the press box of the arena, you grabbed out your trusty notepad and favorite pen and waited for the show to start.

The boys opened with Rollercoaster which got the crowd pumped, not that it took much to get the screams going. When they sang your favorite song Cool, you couldn’t help but sing along. You recorded yourself singing along with Nick to Jealous, sending it to Jana and then to Scott.

 With traffic, it was close to midnight before you got home. Changing into your pajamas and washing away today’s makeup, you fell into bed. Tomorrow was Sunday and you had nothing on the roster besides writing your review of the concert for Monday’s paper.

You were attempting to read a novel Brooks had recommended to you on your Kindle for the third time that week when your phone buzzed from the night stand.

Scott: Are you home?

Y/N: Yep. All snuggled into my bed.

Not five seconds after you hit send, your phone was ringing.

“Good evening Scott,” you answered.

“Hello Pavarotti. Who knew you had those pipes?” Scott greeted you.

“Pipes? Are you talking about my chest?” Fake shock in your voice.

“Har-har. Did you send your little video performance to my brother?” he asked.

“What? No. Why would I do that? It’s not like we’re friends or anything?”

“So, it was strictly business last night? He just texted to apologize and nothing else?”

Is he a mind reader?

“Well, no,” you hesitated. “But it’s not like I’ll hear from him again. He was just being nice.” You shrugged your shoulders even though you knew he couldn’t see you. You really needed a dog or something for times like these.

“We’ll see. How was the concert?” he asked.

“No. No. No. Let’s back up. What do you mean we’ll see? You can’t just change the subject like that on me.”

Scott chuckled through the receiver. “I just meant that my brother has a habit of not letting people go once he likes them. He said he thought you were funny.”

Hmm. Funny. That’s as good a compliment as any. Chris Evans thinks you’re funny.

You’d have to try really hard not to let that go to your head.

 Scott ended up being right, though you wouldn’t tell him that. Chris didn’t let you go. He technically didn’t have you, not that you would have complained, but he kept texting you. The two of you didn’t chat as often as Scott and you did, but it was more than you would have ever expected.

It started casually enough with him texting you a few nights after reaching out to you the first time.

Chris: It’s my right to be hellish, I still get jealous

Y/N: He sent you the video, didn’t he?

Chris: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

A day or two would go by and you’d get another text similar to the last. Just a random musing reaching out. You never initiated because you still weren’t sure what the two of you were. He was your friend’s brother and you weren’t one to push boundaries.

Chris: If you overnighted me a Mickey Premium Ice Cream Bar, what are the odds it would get to me not melted?

Y/N: Aren’t you in Cali? Can’t you just go to Disneyland or send someone to get you one?

Chris: Send someone 🙄

Chris: I’m in New York for Fallon

Y/N: Oh, fuck, that’s right. Don’t tell Scott I forgot.

Y/N: Most grocery stores sell boxes of the bars now by the way.

Chris: It’s not the same.

Y/N: You’re right.

Chris: Usually am sweetheart.

You’re stomach flipped at the nickname. You wouldn’t be telling Scott about this conversation. Nope, you’d keep that one to yourself.

 It was just after seven when you walked in your door, two grocery bags in hand and your phone ringing in your purse.

“Hold on. Hold on,” you called out as if the person could hear you.

Dropping the bags on the stovetop, your dug into your purse, grabbing your phone, catching the call on what was sure to be the eighth ring.

How many rings before it goes to voicemail?

“Hey Scott,” you answered out of breath.

“Hey Sassy,” he replies. You hear someone repeat the nickname in the background. Chris, maybe. You’re not sure. “Chris and I are having dinner with Jimmy and his wife, so I wanted to give you a quick call. Just wanted to let you know the show was completely a snooze fest, there is no need to watch it.”

“Don’t listen to him Y/N. Watch it. A few times maybe,” you hear Chris say in the background.

You hadn’t talked to him on the phone, only via text. It was kind of weird to hear him say your name. Sure, you exchanged a few words on the ride at Animal Kingdom, but this was…different.

You chuckled at their antics. “Jimmy and his wife. As if I’m on a first name basis with him. Cute,” you replied.

“I don’t know who else you know. You’ve got two Evans brothers as friends, who knows what other friends ya have,” he replied.

“You are a dork. I’ll be sure to watch tonight and give you my notes tomorrow. Have fun Grumpy. Say hi to the other dork for me.”

You hear him tell Chris what you said.

“Bye sweetheart,” Chris shouts.

There goes your stomach again.

“Bye sweetheart,” Scott mocks. You hear a muttered “shuddup” before the call disconnects.

Since the Tonight Show didn’t start until eleven thirty at night, you made sure to be ready for bed before it started. Pajamas on. Check. Teeth brushed. Check. Makeup off. Check. Glass of water on your night stand. Check. Cellphone on hand to harass Scott if need be. Check.

You sent a text to your friend April back in Minnesota to let her know Chris was going to be on. She was a huge Chris Evans fan with a Captain America merchandise collection that could rival any extreme collector. She of course already knew he was going to be on but thanked you anyway. She didn’t know about your new friendship. No. Acquaintanceship with Chris. No one did besides Scott, Jana, and Brooks. It was better to keep it that way.

Chris’ segment was great and you expected nothing less. Revealing that he spoiled the end of Endgame for Anthony Mackie was both funny and sweet. He looked good in his stripped shirt and navy blazer and you expected nothing less in that aspect as well, even if his white sneakers were a little too white for your liking.

When Scott joined Chris on stage to play “Know Your Bro”, you knew the segment was going be hilarious.

The audience as well as yourself were giggling after Scott told the story of Chris pushing him as a child, causing Scott to split his head open resulting in the need to get stitches.

“You know you pushed me. Listen,“ Scott said

“Yeah, but that was between us,” Chris replied, finding it hard to keep his laughter under control.

It was Chris’ turn to tell a story and it was one that you would be sure to bring up in the future. Scott had stomach issues when he was little and for lack of a better word, pooped his pants three times while out skiing with his family. This was not the story Scott expected. You were laughing so hard you were crying. It was great segment. You spent the better part of a half hour searching YouTube for past segments with the two of them.

Before calling it a night, you sent Scott a text knowing you probably wouldn’t get one back tonight.

Y/N: You two should hit the road together. Like a traveling two-man act. I’d pay top dollar to see this act in person!

To your surprise, you did get a text back.

Scott: You couldn’t afford us.

 Traffic was a nightmare with cars on the road at a virtual standstill and you weren’t exactly sure why. Traffic would move a little with your car reaching fifteen miles per hour and then the brake lights would all hit at once again. Really, on I-4 it could be anything causing this back up, but you usually were able to time your day so that you missed most of the congestion. You had a meeting at the office that you couldn’t be late for. Part of the agreement with planning your own schedule was that you had to be at the paper for meetings. This would be the second time you were late in the years you’ve worked there, but you weren’t sure if it was three strikes and you’re out kind of thing. Your phone started to ring, figuring it was the office, your answered it via your steering wheel since it was hooked up to Bluetooth.

“This is Y/N,” you answered.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s Chris.”

There goes your stomach again.

“H-hey Chris. What’s up?”

Chill out. Breath. This is cool. You are cool.

He had never called you before, so this was different.

“Not much. Just wanted to see how you were. Do you have me on speaker phone or something?” he asked.

“Um, kind of. I’m driving.”

“Oh, anywhere fun?”

“Nope, just to the office. What are you up to?” you asked, trying your best not to hit the person in front of you.

“Just hanging out in New York for another day. Not much. Scott disappeared on me, nothing new there.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, clearly distracted from the stop and go traffic you were stuck in. “Fuck,” you swore under your breath.

Chris laughed out loud which brought you out of your haze. “You okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to be late for a meeting and am stuck in traffic. I really can’t be late.”

Chris didn’t say anything for what felt like a minute and you thought maybe you lost the call.

“What’s the address of your office?” Chris asked.

“Why?”

“Just answer the question Sassy,” Chris teased.

“Now you’re both calling me that?” you chuckled. “Um, it’s six three three North Orange Avenue.”

“How far are you?” he asked.

“Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes probably with this traffic,” you replied.

“I’ll call you back in a few,” he said, ending the call before you could reply.

“Well that was really freaking weird,” you said, turning the volume back up on the radio.

True to his word, Chris called you back about five minutes later.

“When you pull off the freeway, you need to go to five five seven East Amelia Street,” he said.

What?

“Chris, I don’t think you understand. I’m late for work. There’s no time to stop anywhere,” you said, clearly exasperated.

“It’s a bakery. There will be an order there under your name. It’s already paid for and they promised it would be all boxed up and ready for when you arrived.”

“I don’t understand. An order? Chris.”

“If you’re late for something, it’s best to show up with a peace offering. Just trust me sweetheart. Call me later,” he said.

“Okay. Um, thanks, Chris.”

“No problem. We’ll talk soon. Bye,” he said.

 You pulled into the bakery a few minutes later, sure enough, two twelve count boxes of cupcakes were waiting for you. One box was marked vegan. He really did think of everything.

Walking into the conference room was nerve racking to say the least. Your boss James eyed you but didn’t call you out. You set the boxes on the table before taking a seat. Once he finished his thought, you cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you licked your lips and steadied yourself for the lie. “I wanted to pick up a treat for everyone and it took longer than expected.” You stood up, and got to work opening the boxes. “Please help yourselves,” you said with a smile.

At the end of the meeting, everyone had a smile on their face, including James. There was one cupcake left, you grabbed it out of the box and walked it over to James.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” you said, placing it in front of him and offering a wink while everyone cleared out of the room.

He offered you a smile before you turned to walk away.

It was just after eight when you picked up your phone to call Chris. You were nervous, so nervous. Even though he was the one to call you first, it was still nerve racking to call him. The two of you had been texting for a couple of weeks, but talking on the phone felt more intimate. Before you could change your mind, you clicked on his contact and the line was ringing.

“Heeeelllo,” he answered.

Immediately he put you at ease. “Hey, you dork,” you replied.

“How’d your meeting go?”

“Much better thanks to you. That was very sweet and really smart thinking on your part,” you said.

He scoffed. “You think so little of me?”

“Well, I was led to believe Scott had all the brains.” You couldn’t help the smile on your face.

He scoffed again. “Wait a minute. Where do you get off lady? Thinkin’ my baby brother has all the smarts. I’ll have you know, I read.” Boston accent on full display.

You started to crack up. You tried to get your breathing under control, but it was coming out as wheezing. He started to chuckle and you shook your head.

“I apologize. Truly. Please forgive me sir.”

“Fine. Fine. As long as you never doubt me again,” he said.

“Never.”

 You went to bed with a smile on your face that night and woke up with one as well. Chris was your friend. As strange as that was, it was true.

Unplugging your phone from the charger, you saw you had a couple of texts from Chris.

Does he ever sleep?

Chris: 'Cause you're too sexy beautiful           And everybody want to taste, that's why, that's why           I still get jealous

Chris: Heading to LA. Have a good day sweetheart.

Chris was your friend. Yep. He was just your friend and you needed to remember that.

Chapter 4

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