#and didn't come to see if they were needed as a cashier which meant i had to be there

[strwberri-milk]

May I request something super sweet for Diluc and wife reader?

So, Diluc's been busy these past few days so his sweet wife is worried for his well-being. So, she decides to secretly make him a packed lunch.

The next day, it was another busy day for poor Diluc. Noisy customers, bar fights, Kaeya. He wishes he could eat his beloved's cooking. As if the Archon's have heard his prayers, his wife arrives to the winery with the packed lunch she made for him.

diluc is me after i do a day of the train bro i thought i was signing yp to be a cashier wtf

Diluc was always a busy man and that was something you commended him for. It was amazing seeing how much genuine effort he put into doing literally anything, but you knew that it was at the detriment of his own health. It always was.

You loved spending time with Adelinde not just because she was good company, but also because she helped teach you some of Diluc's worst habits. You didn't need to pay attention too closely to his habits and quickly developed the ability to assess his state of being without asking him questions he would just avoid.

This meant that you were now getting your plan to help him in motion. Adelinde had been your kitchen buddy for quite some time now which meant you learned everything you needed to to make sure that you made him his favourite food.

Happily, you pack up the homemade lunch you prepped for him. You wanted it to be as fresh as possible, knowing that you wouldn't necessarily have to walk far from just the kitchen to locating the vines that he was working on for today.

On the other hand, Diluc was most definitely struggling. He was tired from having an early start to his day after not really sleeping and with Kaeya deciding it would be such a fun way to spend his time antagonising other drunkards Diluc was also nursing a headache from all the yelling he had to do to calm everyone down.

If you think he looks rough, you should see the people whose fights he had to break up.

He's two seconds away from collapsing onto the ground and keeling over, but he knows he can't. He's got too much work to do, and if he falls behind even further than he already has then things are going to get even worse. He already feels so bad about leaving you alone so much from working constantly and this is not helping matters at all.

When it comes time to break for lunch Diluc decides instead to use the time to catch up on his work. Maybe if he manages to finish something today then he could come back inside to have dinner with you. If he's even luckier there's a chance it'd be your cooking that he's eating.

All his other dinners have been so cold as he eats by himself, the red head uncharacteristically pouting as he pushes around the food. It would be an adorable sight if you didn't notice how downright haggard he looks.

This is all to say that when Diluc closes his eyes, he doesn't expect to see you towering above him. He opens his eyes and there you are, serving tray in hand as you waited for him to realise you're there. When he does he practically springs up, carefully putting the tray aside for you to give him a warm hug.

He happily eats the food you gave him, work the last thing on his mind as he feeds some of it to you. Maybe he should start carving out some extra time in the day for himself. If it means he'll get more of this special treatment. It's healing the way your cooking just makes all of his worries melt away, making both his heart and stomach feel so full.

[blueberryarchive]

Jimin from Hollister (pjm)

The first time Jimin saw you was at his old job at Hollister. It was a quiet Monday, and the blond had a hangover throbbing in his temples, pills, and several empty water bottles next to the cashier waiting for someone to enter. His co-worker was on break, and the store was all to himself, which meant one thing: he was in charge of the music.

Give It Up To Me by Sean Paul echoed in his poor ears as he walked among the T-shirts arranged on the hangers, running his hands over the cotton. His head moved along with the bass. Even though the hangover was deteriorating him, he couldn't miss the moments when could play music for him.

Walking down the men's jeans aisle, there you were: the shortest skirt he's ever seen, a coat that hugged your tits deliciously, and the most delicate earring dangling from your navel. You looked at the pants, moving your waist slightly, looking at the prices. Jimin wanted to reach out slowly, grab the belt loops of your mini skirt, and move you gently, pressing his now hard-on on you.

"How come I haven't seen you here before, doll?" He said, getting closer to your ear.

You opened your eyes, and the boy in front of you was chewing gum and wearing a white T-shirt, a small metal ball in the center of his tongue. 'Hello, my name is Jimin,' read a small card on his exercised chest. You smiled.

"What did you say?"

"I asked if you need help," Jimin spoke louder, once again having an excuse to get a little closer.

"Will you do it?"

The bubble Jimin was making exploded in his mouth when you dared to look him up and down. He nodded, a smile appearing on his features.

"I need a gift for my boyfriend."

Boyfriend? No surprise, you were a little piece of molded heaven. It's not like he cared, either. Jimin knew that he could take what he wanted, he had done it before and had no regrets.

"What does your boyfriend do?"

"He's a law student."

"Boring."

Surprised by his bold response you could only laugh with him. You hadn't realized but his body was so close to you that you didn't need to shout over the music.

"Is this part of your job?" You asked.

"What?"

"Giving opinions about customers."

"If I'm interested, yes." His responses were quick, he grabbed the gum from his mouth and threw it down a hallway. "Now, where do you work? Juicy or Spencer's"

"I study." You responded.

"Interesting, smart girl. I haven't been with one of those before."

"My friend warned me about Hollister employees." You mumbled, earning a chuckle from Jimin.

"And what do you think of them now?" 

You liked what you saw, a lot.

Your boyfriend was a sweetheart, seriously. But he was so stupid, thought he could change the way you dressed, how you put on makeup, or who you went out with. Like you were a project or something.

Jimin from Hollister, though, was ogling you. Eating you. His eyes staring at your waist uncensored, Daddy Yankee's 'Impacto' was ringing in your ears, and the lights were low enough to make you feel like having a little fun.

You raised your hand and Jimin took it without a second thought. You turned around and approached his baggy jeans. Jimin bent over until his head was resting on your shoulder, both of you moving with the music, his hands guiding your waist with agility.

The smell of strawberry perfume had Jimin on the verge of kissing your neck, your delicate hair, and the pink lipstick. You were like those Barbies his sister played with.

You turned around again, still moving. Jimin lowered his eyes to where you both pressed. He could see your nipples standing up and prayed they were pierced, too. His tongue passed over his lips just thinking about it.

Your diamond belt falling apart on his fingers without him realizing it out of nowhere.

"Like that, baby, slow. Let me see you." He whispered as your waist began to move slower.

You hissed as both of his hands squeezed your ass, you saw him bite his lip before moving closer to you.

"What flavor is the lipstick?"

"Cherry." You laughed as he pulled you closer. His sly smile had you melting.

"Will your little boyfriend mind if I try it?"

You denied and he wasted no time. His quick footsteps pushed you into a changing room, your back arching at the chill of the mirror behind you. His hands went to your hair, roughening it and undoing your high ponytail. Your Juicy glasses fall to the floor next to your pink bag.

"Won't he mind if I use you either?"

His hand guided you until you had your face resting on the mirror, you moaned as you felt your thong break on his fingers as if they were made of paper.

The rings on his fingers marked your skin as he squeezed the soft, inviting skin on your ass.

"You have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen in this store."

That made you blush, the juice falling to your thighs. You loved being told how pretty you looked, how adorable your tits were in that top, how long your legs could be in your favorite shorts, how you were prettier with cum on your face. What a shame you had to look for your boyfriend's friends and other men to tell you.

Jimin licked his hand with his pierced tongue and rubbed the tip of his cock, red and ready. The sting of feeling his thick member wanting to enter your tight pussy made you see stars, your legs failing.

"No, no, princess. Don't fall yet. Come, I'll hold you." The murmurs were tender as he grabbed your hair tightly and his forearm under your belly.

"B-big, too big."

"I know, sugar, I know. Just take it like a good little slut."

Penetrating completely, Jimin hissed, letting his skillful hips touch that spot inside you to make you wetter.

"You look like a bitch in heat, princess. Has it been long since you felt like this?" He cooed, leaving pecks on your cheeks and neck.

"You have no idea," You whimpered, creating a mist in your reflection with each moan.

"You had to come with a stranger to put it deep inside you, make you a mess," Jimin growled, grabbing your hands above your head, your manicured nails searching for something to clutch. You felt like you were going to explode with every crash against your ass.

Jimin wanted to leave you without panties and let your pussy spill his milk while you walked through the mall that afternoon. That you thought of him every time the inside of your thighs felt slippery.

When he came, he was so hard with your poor little body that he marked the sides of your meaty thighs so you wouldn't move, his cock throbbing and pumping cum until you were overflowing.

"Oh, fuck me. Fuck you, God, this pussy-mm" He mumbled incoherently.

Your used doll face was so sweet, with your drooping eyelashes and your mouth red and swollen from biting it so much. So heavenly.

Jimin zipped up his jeans, fixed his hair in the reflection next to you, and kissed your neck. Your Fliphone vibrated in your coat pocket, and he grabbed it.

"Yes? Yes, this is her phone. I mean...she's a little busy in the fitting room. My name? Jimin." Jimin frowned as the call closed. "Your boyfriend is not very happy. You lied to me, I think he does mind that I used you a little."

You tried to get up but were still weak. The information Jimin told you didn't faze you, your dad would probably get mad, but you didn't care.

"Come tomorrow at five, I'll buy you another one of those thongs if you're good. Yes?"

You nodded and received another grateful kiss. This time soft, sweet, a see you later.

If you want to read more about this couple here is another drabble about them ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ and ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

[jujitto]

🕯️﹒𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖦𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖡𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 ♩ ⁺ 𝖸𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇

⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ۪ ׂ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ cw ۪ ׂ 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ wc ۪ ׂ 𝟢.𝟫𝗄

⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ۪ ׂ 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁. 𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄? 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗎𝗁. 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍´𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇´𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍���𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌? 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌?

Jungwon was never one to stray off from the task at hand. He was the leader for a reason. Which meant he had to be focused for the others to be focused as well. But as of late, his members have noticed their leader has been a bit distant.

Maybe even distracted? But to Jungwon he felt like his normal self. He didn't see anything wrong. Maybe his members were overreacting. Deep down inside he knew they were right and he knew the reason they were right. The reason being a girl with the warmest brown skin, soft curls, pretty brown eyes, and the prettiest smile you'll ever see. Though his members didn't know that.

Jungwon didn't know the girl and he had never spoken one word to her but yet he wanted to. And that was quite an inconvenience itself because she just so happened to work at the local CU. The thing is before a few weeks ago he hadn't noticed her so she must have just started working there.

But what had drawn him to her? That was the one thing Jungwon was confused about. Maybe it was the way she was kind to just about everyone she met, or the way she had patience with even the slowest people, or the softest in her voice as she talked to anyone, or just her prettiness in person and personality-wise.

Or maybe it was just him having a crush on her. He didn't know but the boys were slowly starting to clue it all together. They had noticed each time they had visited said convenience store their leader would get a bit flustered anytime he would see the new cashier working. Most of them just took it as him thinking she was pretty. But slowly over time, they started realizing that he slowly gained a crush on the said cashier.

The boys wouldn't be the best members if they didn't try to at least get their leader to talk to the girl he liked. So that's what their plan was. Sunoo stood at the entrance of the dorm waiting for Jungwon to come as they were going to the convenience store.

Sunoo gave a raise of his eyebrow at Jungwon who was flustered as they walked to the store. Probably because he was getting to see the girl he liked. The cool air of the store hit their skin. The girl sat at the corner smiling at them as they entered.

Sunoo smiled back before going to get the items that he needed. Jungwon walked beside Sunoo looking at the items he was picking up. "I think you should talk to her," Sunoo spoke looking over a cup of ramen before looking at Jungwon who shook his head.

That's the last thing he wanted to do. Embarrassing himself is not the way he wanted to introduce himself to the girl. Sunoo rolled his eyes. If his member wasn't going to introduce himself to her then Sunoo would gladly do the pleasure of doing so.

Sunoo gave Jungwon a raise of his eyebrow and a smirk before continuing to shop. If only Jungwon knew what his Hyung had planned for him. Jungwon stayed quiet during the entire shopping trip. Even as they walked up to the counter. Jungwon would sneak a few glances at her from time to time as she scanned their items.

"So how long have you been working here?" Jungwon heard someone say before looking over at his Hyung who was smiling at the girl. He narrowed his eyes at Sunoo who didn't pay him any attention. "Only for a short time. I just started a few weeks ago. I like working here because most of the people are nice." She spoke softly still scanning the large number of items.

Sunoo nodded peeking at a glance at Jungwon who was staring at the female. Once she looked up Jungwon turned his attention back to the ground. "You know out of all the times I've seen you guys here I still don't know your names. I'll start by telling you mine. Hi, I'm Y/N as the nametag clearly says." She spoke packaging up their items.

Sunoo nodded before introducing himself. "I'm Sunoo and this is Jungwon," Sunoo replied smirking at the girl who chuckled before turning to look at the other boy. Jungwon smiled a soft smile. When he heard her call him cute under her breath he blushed.

To y/n she thought Jungwon was cute which she had thought for quite some time now. But seeing him up close took the cake. She smiled. "It's nice finally seeing your face." You spoke looking at Jungwon who was still blushing. Sunoo looked between the two and smirked. "I think you guys would make a lovely couple." Sunoo teased as Jungwon gave him a deathly glare.

You just chuckled. "Oh really? Well, aren't you going to ask for my number to see if what he's saying is true?" You question as Sunoo nudged the boy forward. Jungwon smiled at you making his dimple pop out at you which made you almost coo over the boy's adorableness. "C-can I get your number, please?" He asked as you smiled and nodded before writing it down.

Sunoo rolled his eyes thanking you for your time as you waved goodbye as they left. Jungwon just stared at the small slip of paper in his hands. His cheeks were red with flush as he stared at the number you had given him. He had gotten it. The girl behind the counter's number. Y/N's number.

[gyubby99]

@disneyanddisneyships MORE MAL LORE?!?!?!?!?

So as far as we know this is what she looked like in her past life

So- as we all know.. again

Full name: Mallory Carrington

Age of death: 20 (2010's)

Nationality: 🇯🇵🇺🇸

So.. we're only going to talk about her life. Cast aside the hell part.

No specific year of birth but probably in the early 1990's

Just some background for her parents.. and then leading up to Mal!

No picrews of them yet 😔 (i promise I'll make them)

Her mom was originally named 'Tsubaki', but she had to move to the US wherein people were oddly unaccepting of foreign people like her and she badly needed a job to fend for herself and her family (she came from a non-priveleged family) so she changed her name to "Carmellia" and that's when she got a job as a waitress at a restaurant that pays well, and that's when she met Mal's dad. His name was James Carrington.

He was.. ok. Carmellia was fresh out of college and he was.. barely getting through life in his mid-20's. He works as a pharmacy cashier, lives alone and everything. Seems like a simple guy.

Right?

So, they met when Carmellia was getting some remedy for a cold. He was stunned because he thinks she's the most beautiful woman that's ever graced this country so.. they make a little small talk, and the third time she came there, he asked for her number.

Carmellia was new to love and she didn't know how to handle it so she gave him her number. They called, they got to know each other, James visited her often in the restaurant, they dated, and for a while it was perfect.

No tf it's not. He was an alcoholic. An addict. Always put Carmellia on the spot when she didn't want to. Drew unwated attention on her.. physically hurt her when he got too drunk.. I guess in his head he thought he finally found someone who tolerates his bs. Cause lemme tell you this guy is one of those guys most likely to say "Everyone always leaves me" like they're the problem.

Carmellia stayed for a while, because as much as he kept abusing her like that, he kept coming around and she felt stuck, and it became a cycle.

And hoo boy when they got married, She almost couldn't see her family because of him. James thought he had free reign over her now.

Then he starts hitting her with the "You really think I'd ever love a foreigner like you?"

Carmellia never knew what to do.. she had nothing to go on for.. she almost wanted to pull a Carolyn Brennan until one day she just started feeling sick. She threw up frequently, had cravings, so she went to the doctor, and they suggested she took a pregnancy test.

Then she saw it. Two lines. Positive.

And when she saw that, she finally had a choice. She ran away from her and James' home, went back to ger country to live with her parents. James tried his best to find her, but everytime he reached out she never responded.

Until a month after Carmellia gave birth, he finally found her. She tried telling him off, but it was no use. She let him stay with her for a month, and he swore he would change.

So a month later. Carmellia gave birth (yay) and it was a baby girl. She wanted to pick out a name, and she wanted it to be like her old Japanese name. So she decided she would name her "Hotaru" which meant firefly, because in their culture fireflies are a beloved. A metaphor for love and passion for poetry, or something along the lines of that.

James opposed, and said that it wouldn't be accepted in his country (why is that his concern lmao) and said that he has a hard time pronouncing it (cry harder bitch) and so he decided to name her "Mallory".

At first Carmellia hesitated, and said it would mean a lot for her, but James said it was for the best. And so they went with "Mallory", which meant "unfortune". Now Carmellia is very serious on name studying, and questioned James on this, but James just said "does it actually matter? Why do you make everything a big deal?"

So she just dismissed the thought of her husband calling his own daughter a misfortune. Bad luck.

And soooo few months after Mallory was born, James just kept stressing Carmellia out more, going back to his old ways once again. So carmellia dumped divorce papers onto his face one day and he was livid. He said he didn't do anything wrong and told her that she was just like the others leaving him.

Carmellia had enough of it. And at the end James ended up signing it, and unfortunately Mallory was left under his care. He convinced them she was deranged and that he never actually abused her physically so that he wouldn't get a restraining order.

Still, they had an agreement that she would have her daughter for two or three months, then the rest was with him. And so every summer vacation or christmas vacation she's with her mom. Growing up she learned to be fluent in her mom's language, even taking summer classes for it when she can.

Now.. James as a dad.. is pretty.. eh. He pays more attention on other things that his siblings and relatives had to take care of her more. He still takes care of her somehow.. but he does the bare minimum. His relatives basically RAISED her. But Mallory was clueless about it, and she loved both of her parents equally.

So, growing up, Mallory really liked to sing. And so both her parents sent her to do choir classes. She had a long way to go, and people never really seemed to like her because she was mixed which is weird because they were kids and who even taught them that. Anywho, she never had any friends.. just acquaintances. Even in school.

Well.. not until she met someone by the name of Lillian Carlton. Her and Lilly hit it off immediately and they became the best of friends. Even James and Deborah became sorta friends. Lilly helped with her bullies a lot, and Mallory learned to defend herself and her friend.

So, Mallory.. onto her crushes.. she never really had one. She wasn't big on that. Everyone was mean to her. She likes nice people, and none of them were.

So, I guess Lilly WAS her first crush. At first she was a bit confused because she thought of Lilly like a girl would of a boy she had a crush on.

Confused bb gorl.

She had a crush on the nice girl with cute glasses. But that went away in time.. but ever since she did have that silly lil crush

They remained friends. They were two peas in a pod. They even got their first period at the same time and joked about being in sync all the time. They bonded over music. Fought over who's the hottest one direction member between Zayn and Niall. The most 2000's-2010's teenagers that have ever teenager'ed

So, with her first crush AND bestfriend, she got out of grade school. And here's where the real torture began.

Seventh grade.

She was becoming more open-minded about certain stuff. More curious also.

That's also the age where she would come home to her father drunk off his ass.

One time he went all out on her..

He was like, "you were the reason your mother left! You're why I'm like this. All hell broke loose the moment you were born. You bring nothing but unfortune to my life."

Mallory figured he was just drunk, so her AT THE TENDER AGE OF TWELVE, Took care of her drunk dad, and it ultimately lead to him dying because of all his vices. She was 13 when he did. But those words stuck on her head for a long time.. until it became voices.

So, her uncle and aunt had to take James' place.

Lilly was always there for her, though. When she heard about James passing away, she ran to comfort Mallory. She had no clue of everything that's happened in her life. She trusted Lilly, but she was just scared.

So under her uncle's care.. we all know how that ended up. She was molested at 13. When she turned 15, she ran away from home, something her dad's side of the family never really cared about. So they just pronounced her dead.

But her mom.. she wanted to look for her. She fled Japan and looked for her in every possible place she could think of. She asked Lilly.. Deborah and Charles.. she wanted her baby to be alive.. to be okay.. but she just couldn't find her. Despite her in-laws saying she was dead, she had a feeling she wasn't. There was no body found. She still put up posters, asked random people... anything. Anything for her daughter. Her little firefly.

Carmellia, after a while.. broke down. She went absolutely insane. She went to delusion.. she believed her daughter was still there.. that Mallory was out there.. needing her help.

But Mallory.. where was she? She hid herself from the world. From whoever could recognize her. she was, and have always been a great liar.

No one found her. No one could. She was keeping the bad luck away from everyone. Then she started to get angry.. if she was going to change everyone's life for the worse then so be it. She killed a man at the age of seventeen. Some mafia took her in, taught her things.. basically grooming her in the process.. she had nothing else to live for. She began referring to herself as "Mal."

Not until Lilly came across her somewhere. She tried convincing her, but Mal only lashed out on her for trying to help. She said she didn't need it, and told Lilly to have a family with Jace.. to never ever end up like her. A mess. A monster. She will just change everyone's life for the worst anyway..

So, they drifted apart.. and Carmellia's insanity ended up killing her. It ended up on the news, but Mal only felt spite. Because she thinks her mom never cared when she went missing. Her mom probably thought she was bad luck, just like what her father said.

And she started to really own up to the meaning of her full name. She figured if she was going to make one's life a living hell, then the person must deserve it. So she went to clubs, sold drugs, lured men and rapists to their deaths. Fifty seven of them. Until she got caught, but never got arrested as she got into an accident in the process. She was dead on arrival.

And the rest was history.

So.. she was never bad luck. People are just.. terrible people. James never changed. He never tried. And Carmellia wanted to protect her child in the way that she can. And she felt like she failed to do that.

And in all of that, Mallory never knew.

Mal never knew.

Haha anyways

[musekicker]

Single dad Buster au drabble, on the subject of Bryce needing bright colored clothing in the snow.

That time of year and the snow was coming down in giant flakes. And at the quick pace it was falling it was building up on the ground a good amount in a short time.

Bryce of course wanted to play in the snow with the other kids.

However the fact that his sons fur was all white presented a bit of a challenge when in the snow. He would just about disappear in the snow if it was snowing hard enough. And though Buster had never lost his kid in the snow, he feared that day would come if he did not do something about the situation.

This was why Buster always bought Bryce the brightest colored winter clothes that were available and in his size. 

And this was still the case this day when Bryce's old jacket had ended up getting it's zipper broken. Which of course meant time to get a new jacket.

Bryce now was at the age where he could make judgements on how clothes looked. Given the look on his face this new jacket did not meet his standards of fashion. Not that a eight year old's idea of fashion was always great. Buster didn't blame Bryce for disliking this coat though. Even Buster was having a hard time putting a nice spin on the look of it.

"Aww, do I have to wear that coat? It's such a ugly color." Bryce said.

"It's not ugly it's... a different use of a neon color that aren't normally used on jackets." Buster said.

The jacket in question was a unappealing shade of neon green with stripes of bright pink on the arms. Just looking at it made Buster's eyes hurt a bit. Bryce himself was refusing to look at the thing more then he had to as well. Instead he focused on Buster and glared.

"Dad... just say it's ugly. I know it is and I know you know it is." Bryce said. "Also please don't buy that."

Buster didn't budge on the ugly label issue. Just as he was not budging on the idea of buying the coat. 

"If I let you out into the snow without bright colored winter clothes, you'll either get hit by a car or you'll be lost to the snow and I'll never see you again." Buster told Bryce.

"You're being a bit dramatic." Bryce said.

"I work in the theater son. Of course I am dramatic." Buster said.

Bryce had to give his dad that. Still he did not back down on the issue.

"If you let me outside in the ugliest coat in the world the other kids at school will laugh at me until I die!" Bryce cried.

"Now whose being dramatic?" Buster asked.

Buster folded the coat over his arm and moved towards the check out counter.

Bryce could see that yes, this coat was going to be in his future like it or not.

"Did you find anything you liked?" the ox cashier asked.

"No." Bryce mumbled.

The cashier over the years had seen their share of kids that were pouting or had temper tantrums. That was just a thing that happened when shopping with kids. More so something as boring to most kids as clothes shopping. The cashier was attempting to move on when they saw the coat.

"Oh that is... a interesting coat." the cashier said.

Bryce looked to his dad at those words.

"See? Even the cashier, whose job is to sell the thing is sad for me and doesn't want to sell it to us." Bryce said.

"Now I never said I didn't want to sell it-" the cashier said.

Bryce pointed to the cashier.

"Aha! So you admit that you are sad for me because of this ugly, ugly coat!" Bryce cried.

The cashier was silent, taking a moment to try and come up with a diplomatic reply that a child would buy. Buster noticed a line was starting to form behind him and Bryce. He could feel the impatience and judgement from where he stood.

"Could you give me and my son a quick moment?" Buster asked the cashier.

The cashier nodded and took Bryce aside of the line that moved up as soon as Buster and Bryce stepped out of it.

"Ok look, I'm really, really sorry that you hate the jacket." Buster said. "But it's the brightest thing in your size. And we need to get you a new winter coat now."

Bryce huffed and crossed his arms, looking very sullen. Buster sighed.

"Tell you what. I buy this jacket and I'll keep a eye out for a nicer looking jacket in your size. You'll just have to deal with this one until I can get you a um.." Buster said.

"Come on, call it what it is." Bryce said.

Buster sighed again.

"Okay. It's a ugly coat. But I will get you a less ugly coat later I promise." Buster said.

Bryce frowned, still unsure of agreeing to a smooth purchase of the ugliest coat in the world. He thought a second.

"Add in getting a snack at the pastry store." Bryce said.

Buster was not beyond bribes to get Bryce to do something like his homework, time to time. And it was near lunch time. Getting something to eat wouldn't be a bad idea.

"Okay. Future better coat and a snack at the pastry store today." Buster said.

"Deal!" Bryce said.

The promise of snacks in the near future had put Bryce in a better mood. Though that mood was somewhat dampened when he did have to actually wear the coat after it's purchase. 

[stillfruit]

.

[petitebonnie]

♡FNAF 1 x Reader ♡

Characters: Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and foxy.

Incudles: Soft loving fluff <3

You've been working in the pizzeria for two years now? Yeah, two years. You were first a cashier, but you didn't make much. Parents were always complaining about something. Normal stuff, but the complaints are ridiculous.

It could literally be a cup with one of the animatronics that had a wrong colored straw in it- but you didn't care cause that wasn't your department. But if you were really honest with yourself, you only worked there to be close to the animatronics.

It made u so happy how they were so kind to children and how flawless their designs were.

You wanted to be a technicne. You wanted to be there whenever they needed fixing, help with malfunctions, or fix the rotting artificial fur that falls off during shows. You'd be there to clean them throughly, care for them as if they were your own babies.

Thankfully, u were able to make it as a technician, which was great! The pay was doubled. People who worked there before you were creeped out by the animatronics, but.. They meant the world to you, and you meant the world to them.

Time skip

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/N)?" She chirped, Chica was looking all over for you. She checked the stage, parts, and service- but u were nowhere to be found - the pizzeria was already closed, and you promised her to bake her cupcakes!

Yes, yes, she looked in the kitchen, but u weren't there. But you did say u had to clean a few things.

"Bonnie, have you -"

“Noo, for the last damn time, Chica. I ain’t seen (Y/N)."

Bonnie sighed annoyingly, picking the strings with the chubby part of his thumb. Chica frowned, rolling her eyes as she headed over to the security office.

Bonnie watched her go down the hall, his ears perked hearing light clattering noises coming from the kitchen. " Bingo. " He smirked. He walked over to the kitchen door, watching Chica go into the security office. "Dumb duck."

Maybe you might be there? Chica thought - sighing as she arrived in the office.

Nope- you weren't. Sometimes, u were there on the tablet, checking on them. She groaned in frustration. She looked in the girls' bathroom.

Maybe you were going potty?

Instead, she found Freddy. She cringed and tapped his behind his shoulder, making the big bear jolt..

"Have you seen (Y/N)? annnd what are u doing in the GIRLS bathroom? Again."

" I- uhem-" Freddy tightened his bow a bit, looking around, trying to compose himself. "No particular reason, Chica. I've last seen her in the kitchen." He said with a soft, embarrassed tone.

Chica smiled, thanking Freddy and bolted down the hall. She gasped in awe, smelling the delicious aroma of cupcakes baking behind the kitchen door. How didn't she smell it before? Maybe she needs to replace or fix her sensors for being able to smell certain things.

It wasn't her fault her mechanisms failed. Children were ruthless and liked stuffing cake or candy up her nose- which lends her many times to the Parts and Services.

She opened the door and gasped in pure horror.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, giggling while Bonnie was in between your thighs, making silly bunny jokes to you. Your flustered expression and playful bantering with Bonnie only made him grin with satisfaction. She HATED seeing u laugh, especially with the snot nosed bunny. She likes to call him.

"(Y/N) !!! You were here the whole time! And you!" She huffed, pointing at Bonnie. He smiled, putting his hands up in defeat. You looked over at Chica, nervously laughing at her anger towards the bunny.

"You said you didn't know where she was! Shoo shoo!" Before u could blink, she was right in front of u moving Bonnie away from you. Bonnie smirked a bit. He sat in a chair somewhat near the both of you. Watching Chica fume in a jealous fit.

He leaned back against the chair. "Careful now, Duck. I was just havin' a laugh with my Sugar Plum~," he purred, chuckling. Chica hated when Bonnie called her a duck - clearly, she was a chicken.

You gently rubbed chicas back, trying to calm her down. "Heya Chica, it's okay. We were just talking, okay? And look!" Chica turned to you and squealed in delight.

The whole reason she was looking for you.

♡ it was cupcakes. ♡

She took a cupcake and shoved it in her mouth, your eyes lighten widening. She made happy noises while chewing. You laughed, laying your head on her shoulder. "You know, you're supposed to eat small pieces, Chica." You raised an eyebrow at her, She blushed.

"OH- right.. I was craving them all day!"

You shook your head a bit, smiling and grabbing a napkin, cleaning frosting off her beak.

But she really craved you too.. She misses when u only pay attention to her. You two would always hang out, bake together, or even do karaoke. But you equally gave them all love and attention once u got to know everyone fully.

Which She hated..

She hugged you tightly, nuzzling you. "Ohh, I missed you so much cupcake! I looked all over for you!" Cupping your cheeks, giggling like crazy- hearing a scoff from Bonnie.

" When aren't yah craving somethin.. and keep your hands off, would yah? Wouldn't want your.. nasty duck hands all over my (Y/N). " Bonnie gritted his teeth, tapping his foot impatiently.

" What makes you think she is -" You covered her mouth before she could finish. She looked at you with sad eyes- letting go of your cheeks .

" Okay, you two - you both know I love you evenly. " You sighed, looking at Bonnie. " Be nice bon's, she's a chicken, not a duck. " Bonnie held his chest in hurt. He was very playful that way. " Oh, Sugar Cube, you broke my non-existent heart. " his ears flopped down. You rolled your eyes, smiling. " awh, I did? Sorry honey buns, " you cooed.

" (Y/N) ! " She muffled against your hand. You whipped your head, too, her removing your hand. "Oh, sorry, Chica - but have u seen Freddy?" Chica sighed, wrapping her arm around yours. " Yeess.. why?. "

" I wanted to give them cupcakes, of course, Bonnie already had one. "

Bonnie stood up, grabbing your thigh - easily sliding u a bit across the counter towards him, glaring at Chica. " I ain’t bein replaced by a smelly bucket of KFC -" Chica glared daggers. Before she could hit that damn bunny with a frying pan, she looked at u.

" Wait- they?.. "

You pinched Bonnie's cheek lightly in annoyance. "Bonnie -" you warned, earing a grumble from him. "Yes, Chica, I'm planning on giving one to Foxy. I know he doesn't like being bothered, but I have to try -"

Chica smacked Bonnie's hand off your thigh. Hearing a "ow!" From him.

" DONT EVER DO THAT AGAIN-. "

She turned to u, " okie, love! Can I come?! Please, please, please cupcake?. " Bonnie rubbed his hand. He gently kissed your hand that was pinching his cheek.

You smiled at bonnie, hopping off the counter. Grabbing two cupcakes with a small napkin for them both. " No, Chica, you have to stay put, alright? I promise I'll come back as fast as I can. Kay?. " You kissed her cheek.

She sadly nodded in response, giving u one last hug and dragged Bonnie by the ear. " Cmon road kill - " She hummed. "Ow ow- ! Hey, let go! I didn't get too -" Before Bonnie could cry his pleads to you, Chica dragged him out the kitchen.

Yeah, those two never get along well, especially sharing you. They are the most protective and jealous type out of the whole group - more than Freddy sometimes.

Soon, you met Freddy by the stage. He was cleaning his hat and was practicing his vocals for tomorrow. " Heya Fred bear! I got you something. " You walked over to him, handing a cupcake to his big paw.

He closed his eyes, smiling, nodding to you. " Thank you, miss (Y/N). It smells heavenly. " He sniffed the cupcake, placing it besides his hip. He knows he can't really eat it- but small amounts wouldn't hurt. "Of course, fur ball, enjoy mkay?" You kissed his forehead.

Freddy let out a small hum of satisfaction.

You waved and quietly headed over to Foxy's cove. Clearing your throat, you left the cupcake under the napkin. " Heya, Captain.. I hope you're feeling better. I made you something okay?. " Patiently waiting for a response.

" Okay, Foxy, I'll see u later. " Turning your heel as u walk away from the cove.

A hook gently pulled the curtain, revealing your small form walking away. A bright glowing gold eye watching you go.

" Thank ye (Y/N) "

[randomshyperson]

Palm Springs - Leigh Shaw

All Works Masterlist

Summary: In Palm Springs, Leigh meets you. The season one finale re-imagined.

Warnings: (+18), smut, cursing, dom!reader, bottom!leigh, explicit language, explicit consent, brief mentions of harassment, fluff, brief rivalry dynamics, hopeful ending.

Words: 5.378K

Notes: My love, @abimess, this is my apologies for you. I kept mistaken "Wanda" instead of "Leigh" at some points in the writing, but it all worked out in the end. I hope you all enjoy the read, this is my first time writing for this character.

//-//

You threw the signed divorce papers against the passenger seat, ignoring the thick tears that welled up in your eyes.

Raising your hand, you turned up the radio and kept driving. Your cell phone started ringing the next moment, but you ignored it. It was probably Bucky or Steve calling to find out where you were after your little outburst at the company fundraiser.

Honestly, it wasn't your fault. You were handling it all very well, but Carol decided it would be a good idea to give you the divorce papers while you were surrounded by your closest friends, and that was the trigger. But now you were driving to Palm Springs, finally taking the damn vacation your ex-wife had put you through so much hell to get, but now, the seat next to you was empty.

It took a few hours to get there, since the complex is in New York, but you didn't care, having spent most of the way trying to understand how you managed to lose a woman like Carol Danvers.

No bags, you ignored the curious look one of the hotel staff gave you as soon as you pulled into the parking lot, smiling slightly as you took off your sunglasses and asked for directions to the front desk.

You frowned slightly as you were almost run over.

"Watch where you're going!" You shouted angrily at the driver, and the woman returned you the same angry look. Great, you've barely arrived and you almost died. This weekend was promising.

Stepping back, you waited for the woman to drive, not failing to give her a wry smile as she passed you. After this, you walked to the reception desk, and the area was quite full, which was normal for a weekend.

"Reservation in the name Danvers." You said to the receptionist after the greetings. He smiled as he checked the information.

"Valentine's suite, I see." He commented cheerfully. "Shall I prepare a second key for your partner?"

"It's just going to be me, buddy." You grumble, ignoring the uneasy feeling in your stomach. The man smiles awkwardly, but doesn't apologize.

After checking in, you go up to the third floor.

The room makes you sigh with disgust, the flowers and chocolates give you a headache. It takes ten minutes to find a chambermaid and ask her to remove all the decorations.

While your room is being cleaned, you decide to buy something to wear, since you didn't bring anything to spend the weekend at the hotel.

"Good morning." You mumble the greeting as you enter the gift store, your gaze wandering around.

"How can I help you, dear?" The saleswoman asks politely, smiling at you.

"I need something to wear for the two days I'm staying. It was a last-minute trip." You tell her, and the saleswoman looks surprised, but doesn't comment.

The woman eventually showed you the summer shirt section, and you sighed softly as you looked through the options. She walked away to attend to another customer, and you left your attention to the clothes.

A moment later, you picked out a few pieces and turned to talk to the saleswoman, only to run into the woman who had almost run you over earlier looking at the book section.

"You again." You let it slip not so low, attracting the woman's attention. She frowns for a second, and then she recognizes you. But before she can say anything, the saleswoman is speaking.

"Oh, you two know each other already?" She asks excitedly. "It's amazing how we can find friends here in Palm Springs isn't it?"

"We're not friends." You both inform at the same moment, and you squeeze your eyes shut slightly. The woman straightens her posture, pressing the book lightly against her chest as you switch the shirts on your arm. The saleswoman's curious expression prompts you to speak.

"Actually, she almost killed me." You say. "It was going to be quite a headline for this hotel. I'd be careful about the people you guys host around here."

The saleswoman looks at you with confusion, while the other woman lets out a dry laugh.

"You're the one who walked across in the middle of the street!" she defends herself. "It's not my fault if you weren't taught how to cross the street in school."

"Oh, so it's the victim's fault now?" You retort and the woman looks at you incredulously. A third customer enters the store and stares curiously at the argument, but the saleswoman is quick to gesture between you, smiling wryly.

"Oh come on, I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding" The saleswoman remarks and you sustain the annoyed look the other woman is casting at you. "There's no need for an argument."

"Of course not." The woman says forcing a smile, but her posture remains aggressive. "We are both civilized adults."

You bite your tongue to avoid another provocation, looking away from the green irises in front of you.

"Of course you are." The saleswoman says smiling, and then her gaze catches the shirts hanging from your forearm and she lets out a light exclamation. "Come on, I can finalize your purchase if that's all, dear."

You turn toward the cashier next, and it is only after you have paid for the clothes and are leaving that you see the other woman again on your way back, but she does not look away from the books to you. You couldn't care less.

//-//

In your room, you can't resist the urge to look at your phone.

Bucky has called five times. And Steve even sent you an email. You sigh weakly, feeling guilty as you catch a glimpse of Tony and Natasha's message notifications.

Your friends didn't care that you started crying in the middle of the meeting you were at because your ex-wife decided to bring a sensitive topic like the end of your five-year marriage to the table, but you were hating yourself for it.

At this point, you didn't even know what you had been crying about anymore. You and Carol had always had a difficult relationship, and since you got married, you began to wonder why you had done it in the first place.

You loved her so much when you first met her, and then everything gradually broke down. The lack of compatibility, the jealousy and possessiveness, and the lack of time. Carol was a soldier in the army, and you were a Shield special agent, and your jobs took up a lot of your schedules. But you knew that this was just another empty excuse. After all, your best friend, Natasha, was also an agent, as was her wife, and they made everything work properly.

Maybe things were meant to happen that way. That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

After taking a shower, you grumble lightly as you realize that you forgot to buy a bathing suit. And well, everything special about Palm Springs was the magnificent pools.

You figured the shorts and top you had would have to fit.

The pools were considerably more crowded than the rest of the hotel, and this was probably due to the current temperature.

You decided to buy a drink before sunbathing, realizing that most of the chairs were occupied.

The bartender was a pretty girl and smiled mischievously at you when her gaze fell on your collarbone exposed by the cut of your shirt, but you just gave her a half-hearted smile. Being newly divorced wasn't exactly the best scenario for flirting.

"What can I get you?" The woman asked as she rested her hands on the counter in front of her. You bit your lip thoughtfully, running your eyes down one of the menus left on the wood.

"Honestly, I don't know anything here." You say. "But I would like something sweet."

It takes a few minutes for her to prepare a drink for you, and you thank her as you accept.

As you sip a drink that tastes like strawberries and condensed milk, you look around the surroundings.

You frown slightly as you recognize the woman from the store, watching her sit in one of the chairs that has just been emptied in front of the bar. She doesn't notice you, but you notice her exposed legs, mentally scolding yourself for doing so.

As you take another sip of your drink, your tongue getting used to the sugary sweetness, a man approaches the stranger in front of you. From this proximity, you can hear the conversation, or rather the small harassment that he was doing.

Rolling your eyes at the stranger's clearly offensive attempt to approach the other woman, you force yourself to get up and walk over to them.

Well, Nat always said that you were a person with a natural talent for theater and you wish she were here now to see the little scene you caused.

Pretending to trip over the sunshade support, you made a sudden movement and knocked your entire drink against the man's collarbone, who let out an exclamation of anger and surprise as he stood up.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You asked in a falsely guilty tone, forcing an expression of shock. Before he could say anything, you were already grabbing one of the towels left on the little tables beside the chairs and throwing it harder than necessary against the man's face. "Here, honey, clean yourself up."

The man blinked in surprise, and glared angrily at you for a second before muttering "whatever" and turning to leave. When he was already a safe distance away, you turned your face to look at the seated woman.

"Sorry about your book." You speak as you notice that the spilled drink has dripped a little on the pages. "But if you ask me, the ending sucks."

"Thanks, I guess." The woman mumbles not keeping her gaze on you. "I didn't need you to help me, by the way." She adds and you roll your eyes, realizing that the chair next to her got empty after your little commotion. When you sit down, she raises her gaze to you in disbelief.

"Who said I was helping you?" You retort. "I love throwing expensive drinks at strangers."

Your joke elicits a nasal chuckle from the woman, who softens her posture.

"If you want to lose money, I suggest donating rather than wasting it." She teases back and you bite back a smile, shaking your head slightly. When she opens the book again and leans her back against the chair, clearly deciding to ignore your presence, you copy the position, but stand with your arms folded across your chest and close your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun against your skin.

You are tired from the trip, and eventually fall asleep. When you open your eyes again, the woman is no longer there.

//-//

Since you have napped until the afternoon, there is no chance you will sleep early. You try to distract yourself with television, but most of the programs are pay-per-view and you have probably already exceeded all the limits that a Shield salary can afford, so you decide to spend some time on the activities included in your weekend bundle.

After putting on a shirt to join the lobby, you take the elevator down and step out into the outdoor area, not surprised to find the place as busy as before. The difference is perhaps the lack of children because of the time of day.

You walk toward the bar and roll your eyes slightly when you notice the same man as before being loud and boisterous along with a small group partying near the place. But you ignore them as you sit down on the first stool you find.

"Well, if it isn't my knight in white armor." A female voice comments wryly beside you, surprising you mildly. You look at the woman with a raised eyebrow, but she is looking straight ahead.

"So you expect me to call you a princess? We don't even know each other." You retort in the same tone, and watch the woman bite back a smile, rolling her eyes slightly.

You stand in silence while you order a drink, this time smiling in the same way that the bartender smiles at you. While you wait, you can' t help but look over to the side.

"You know, I think I might need to get your name." You begin in a tone of false seriousness, not knowing why you want to pull conversation with the stranger, but doing it anyway. "Since I need to know who to sue for attempted hit-and-run."

The woman laughs lightly, and as she sets her drinking glass back down on the counter, she turns her body toward you, without getting up.

"The smart thing then wouldn't be to say my name, don't you think?" She retorts with amusement in her voice. "That way I avoid a lawsuit."

You smile in a corner, shaking your head slightly. You lean your arm on the counter, and it takes a moment for her to speak again.

"I'm Leigh."

"No last name so I can't find your ID, right?" You tease and she smiles, licking her lips for a moment. "Well, I won't tell you mine either then." You comment before telling her only your first name, and she laughs lightly. "May I at least know your profession? Or, I don't know, where you're from? I need that information to track you down."

You joke, and Leigh makes a thoughtful expression for a moment.

"I'm from everywhere actually." She says mysteriously. "Because I'm an international jewel thief."

You smile at the mixed tone of seriousness and playfulness in her speech, respecting her right not to want to tell you the truth, and acknowledging the identity she chooses to assume.

"Oh, really?" You ask joining in the joke. "And let me guess, your disguise happens to be as a fashion stylist, right? And you have a red motorcycle and deadly poison hidden in your lipstick?"

Leigh holds back her laughter, nodding.

"I can't confirm any of that information, actually." She says. "After all, a little incident happened and I wasn't able to finish the story."

You laugh at the teasing, taking a sip of your drink. Before the moment of silence lasts any longer, you ask if you can approach. When Leigh consents, you take the seat next to her.

"And what do you do?" she asks as soon as you sit down. You clear your throat lightly.

"I'm a secret agent, actually." You tell her and from the woman's expression, she still believes you are joking. You do not correct yourself however. "Lasers and villains, the whole story."

Leigh smiles, murmuring in understanding.

"And what is a secret agent doing in Palm Springs?" She asks next and you assume a dramatically thoughtful expression.

"I got a hint actually." You reply. "A jewel thief, fugitive from the government. I'm trying to gather information to effect her arrest."

Leigh fakes an expression of horror making you laugh.

"If I see anything suspicious, I'll give you a heads up." She jokes and you smile, enjoying the whole thing. Before you can add anything else, the small group next to the bar let out loud laughter and they attract your and Leigh's attention.

You frown slightly when you witness the guy from earlier whistling at one of the hotel staff, the people with him finding his little scene of harassment funny.

"I guess a drink in the face isn't enough for some idiots." You comment and Leigh sighs mildly. She looks at you at the same moment you look at her.

"Maybe more drinks will be enough."

That's how you end up doing a little mischief that involves distracting the stranger with comments about his muscles while Leigh approaches and manages to get the man's card. When you walk away, after she hands the bartender the hotel ID after ordering a round for everyone at the bar on the stranger's behalf, you were laughing.

"I'm beginning to believe your thief story." You amused comment as soon as you and Leigh reach the trail out of the bar area. She just smiles at your words. You clear your throat next. "I guess I need to show off my secret agent skills then."

Leigh looks at you curiously, but you just smile as you nod in the direction of the gardens.

You walk for a few minutes in silence, and you remember everything you have observed since you arrived at the hotel, and are able to find the small opening in the fence that you saw some staff members pass through in the afternoon.

"Please, milady." You joke as you make room for Leigh to cross the path first, and she rolls her eyes with amusement before doing so.

You end up in some kind of unfinished private garden, but one that is still very pretty.

Perhaps it is an area under construction for some kind of party, as it has a stage set up in the center and some folded chairs scattered about.

Your attention falls immediately to the piano that has also been set up high on the dark stage.

"How did you find this place?" Leigh asks as she looks around, and you walk past her to get on the stage, eliciting a giggle.

"Field study, of course." You reply with false seriousness. " A secret agent never goes anywhere without studying the whole place first."

Leigh murmurs in agreement, deciding to follow you to the stage. You take a seat on the piano bench while she remains standing in front of the organ.

"Do you have any requests?" You ask looking down at your fingers as she studies your face.

"Old Mac Donald had a Farm." She replies and you choke on a laugh.

"And I thought your taste in music was as good as your fashion sense." You tease causing her to raise an eyebrow.

"Is that your way of complimenting what I'm wearing?" She retorts but you just bite back a smile, moving your fingers across the keys.

You decide to play a melody that she may not recognize, but is exactly what you feel you should play.

When the first notes of " Spring - Ludovico Einaudi" echo in the room, Leigh looks at you in surprise, but you just smile.

It takes a moment for her to surround the piano, and to sit down next to you. You continue to play, enjoying the sound and concentrating not to misplay the notes.

When you make a particularly fast movement on the piano, Leigh looks at you impressed, but you just push your shoulder lightly against hers, smiling. Neither of you regains the distance from before, and you continue to play.

When you finish, you are silent for a moment.

"Where did you learn to do that?" She asks in her low, impressed tone as you both look down at your hands on the keys. You sigh slightly, moving your fingers away and placing your hands in your lap.

"I used to play when I was a kid." You reply. "Before I was a secret agent, of course."

Leigh smiles, biting her lips lightly. You look away from the movement, to her hands quickly.

"Let me show you." You whisper as you reach out your hand to hers. When she accepts, you position her fingers on the keys, and then fit your hand on top of hers. "You start like this."

The sound is far from perfect, and Leigh laughs every time she misses a note, so you don't really care.

You stay like this for a few minutes, until you can get her to complete five notes without making a mistake.

"See? You' re almost a pianist already." You comment with a smile, looking at her face. She mimics your movement, and you feel your heart skip a beat from the closeness.

You feel the tension build in the room, but before you can think of doing anything, a male voice is breaking the spell.

"Sorry, but this area is for employees only." Informs the young man from the hotel, seeming slightly embarrassed to interrupt. You and Leigh quickly walk away, standing up and muttering an apology in unison to the guy, who waits until you leave by the trail he guides.

When you reach the entrance to the social area again, the employee closes the gate, waving slightly. You and Leigh exchange amused smiles.

"So... what do you want to do now?" You ask the next moment, wanting to prolong the evening.

"I want to swim." She declares and you frown slightly, then shrug. You nod in the direction of the pools and you exchange a glance before starting to walk.

//-//

At the edge of the pool, you sigh slightly.

You exchange a look with Leigh, standing next to you, and then you laugh softly as you both begin to undress.

You can't resist the urge to look at her, especially since she jumps in first and you catch a glimpse of her body covered only by a bikini. Ignoring your uncompensated heartbeat, you jump into the water next.

It's a good thing the water was cold, because you are feeling your face and body heat up at the way Leigh looks at you.

Trying to lighten the mood, you swim around her, casually meeting her gaze again as she mimics the movement.

You laugh lightly when you realize that you are swimming in circles around each other, and decide to stop. Leigh swims in front of you a moment later.

"Hello, superspy." She greets you almost in a whisper waving her arms to continue on the surface in front of you.

"Hello, international thief." You speak back in the same tone, your gazes locked on each other.

You wonder if she would like you to break the distance, as her gaze has lowered to your lips for a few seconds. But before you can surrender to this urge, she takes a step back.

"I'm cold."

And then she swims away, and you wonder if you have taken the whole thing the wrong way.

Following her a little way back, you look for towels.

//-//

"Which floor are you on?" You ask as you reach the elevators, each with a towel around your body. You watch Leigh tighten her arms against herself slightly.

"Second." She replies half-heartedly, and you nod.

"Let's go together then."

She gets into the elevator first, and after she presses the button, you stand next to her, your back against the wall.

The tension is back the moment the doors close, but after the pool, you find it best not to take any action, not wishing to make Leigh uncomfortable.

You reach her floor a moment later, and when she doesn't leave, you hold your breath.

You risk a corner-of-your-eye glance at her, but she continues to stare straight ahead, sighing slightly.

Trying not to look like a complete mess, you wait for your floor to arrive.

//-//

The way down the hallway is silent, and despite your nervousness, you don't fumble to open your room.

Leigh enters first, and strides into the room as you close the door.

She stops in the center, her gaze scanning around for a moment before returning to you. You hold your breath, and then she lets the set of clothes in her hands fall to the floor.

You bite back a smile, mimicking the movement. Taking a deep breath, you do the same with your towel, and ignore the heat in your cheeks as Leigh's gaze descends to your body covered only by your underwear.

She removes the towel at your waist next, and you stare at her exposed legs for a moment before moving slowly toward her.

You smile shyly as you stop in front of her, and it takes a second for you to slowly lift your fingers to touch her, tracing the outline of her arm and watching her skin shiver.

"Everything okay?" You ask softly raising your gaze from where your fingers were touching to her eyes. Leigh sighs, shaking her head in agreement. You give her a short smile, placing your hand on her cheek, and watching her lean into the touch slightly. "Use your words." You ask in a whisper, your other hand repeating the motion of your fingers from before, even more slowly.

"Y-yes." She confirms half breathlessly. "And you?"

"Yes." You say, your hand reaching for the strap of her bikini. "I'm going to kiss you now, Leigh."

She nods in understanding, sighing heavily. You didn't correctly calculate how attracted you were to her, because the moment your lips touched, you felt your head spin and it was hard not to push her against the bed immediately.

You both sigh against the kiss, and you slide your tongue into her mouth next, your hand on her face running down to her neck, deepening the kiss even more.

Leigh seems hesitant to touch you for the first second, but then she gasps against your tongue, and brings her hands to your shoulders, bringing one of them up to the back of your neck and scratching the skin, making you sigh.

With the hand that was on the bikini strap, you use your fingers to pull the strap down, and with the other hand you repeat the movement on the other side. When the bikini falls to the floor, your hands go down to her waist, and you pull her toward you.

Leigh gasps at the contact of your breasts bumping together, breaking the kiss with a wet sigh, and you take the opportunity to move your mouth down her collarbone, enjoying the sounds you manage to get out of her whenever you bite her sensitive skin softly.

You lean against her to lower your kisses to her breasts, and when your mouth finds the hardened nipple, she arches her back, closing her eyes as her fingers force your head forward against her breast.

"Oh." She moans as she feels you suck on her nipple, your other hand moving up to give her other breast due attention, your fingers playing with the tip. " Oh, fuck, that feels good."

You smile against her skin, feeling your core tighten with the sounds you are tearing out of her.

When your hand on her waist moves down to her ass, squeezing the flesh and pressing Leigh's hips against yours as your mouth continues on her breast, she moans loudly as she throws her head back, shuddering against you.

It's enough to make you lose control. You need to know how she tastes.

Gasping, you move your kisses down again, and Leigh holds her breath as you get down on your knees.

You kiss her thighs first, while your hands pull down the fabric of her panties.

When the fabric falls away completely, you swallow dry, your gaze glazed on the exposed intimacy of the woman in front of you, your mouth salivating to taste her.

"I-I'm gonna fall." She comments shyly, and you notice how her knees are already shaky. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand up.

You take Leigh by the hand to your bed, and she stands there, making you smile. You move forward against her mouth again, and she sighs, almost losing her balance from the intensity.

"Lie down." You ask between one kiss and another, making her moan softly. "Spread your legs for me."

Leigh gasps against your lips as you slip your fingers through her folds for a moment, before pulling away until she obeys. You bite your lips as you watch her lie down.

Before you join her, you remove the rest of your clothes. Leigh's cheeks redden, but you give her no time to register this, climbing onto the bed with your knee between her legs and kissing her again.

As she begins to squirm beneath you for more friction, you move your kisses down her body.

She closes her eyes when your mouth is at the level of her belly, breathing hard.

When your tongue touches her pussy, you both moan loudly. You are amazed at how wet and hot she feels, the taste filling all your senses. And Leigh bites her lips to stop herself from moaning out in pleasure when your tongue begins to move against her clit, sucking and licking her devotedly and making her whimper.

"F-fuck." She moans breathlessly, her hips thrusting into your mouth. "Yeah...right there... don't stop..."

You lift your hands to her thighs, holding her open. Your own intimacy pulsing from the way Leigh is surrendered to you and the sounds she gives you.

Keeping the strokes of your tongue as deep as you can and being sure to press your clitoris in return, you feel her pussy tighten and Leigh's body begins to quiver in spasms.

"I-I'm... close... fuck..." she begins to whimper disconnected words, long moans escaping her throat. It takes only two more strokes for her to come on your tongue, her moan loud enough to be heard in the next room, but neither of you care.

You drink all of her cum, enjoying the taste and feeling on edge, without even having been touched yet.

Moving up your kisses again, you deposit slow kisses against Leigh's skin, waiting for her to recover from her own orgasm.

When you reach her mouth, she kisses you back with the same intensity.

You just know you're not going to sleep early tonight.

//-//

When you wake up, your bed is empty. You are surprised by this, really.

The night was very good. Much better than any one-night stand you have ever had.

After getting dressed by finding your articles of clothing, you walk to the front desk.

It takes a few minutes to find Leigh, and you frown when you realize from the bag in her hands, the documents, and the car key that she is leaving.

"Wow, you weren't even going to leave a note." You tease as you catch up with her. She is startled by your sudden presence, but forces a smile.

"Look, I'm sorry..." she starts but you shake your head.

"No need." You interrupt by putting your hands in your pockets and shrugging. "It was just one night after all."

"Yes." She reaffirms what you say, staring at you. You hold her gaze, and a long minute later she sighs. "No, it wasn't."

You swallow dryly, watching her. She seems conflicted about something, her expression going from worried to guilty in a few seconds, and then she takes a deep breath and shakes her head before looking at you again.

"I can't." She says, and you sigh lightly. "I just... can't."

"It's okay." You decide to say, ignoring the way your stomach is flipping with nervousness or your heart is racing. "We are civilized adults, aren't we?"

Leigh smiles, and you watch her eyes water for a moment before she quickly hides her emotion. You feel the same way.

" This is a goodbye." Leigh says next, and you look away to the floor, nodding in understanding.

"Goodbye, Leigh. It was nice meeting you." You say as you look at her again, forcing a smile even though your eyes are watering.

She smiles, approaching to kiss your cheek close enough to your lips to make you shiver. She doesn't pull away immediately, raising her mouth to the height of your ear, she whispers "I left a note." and before you can understand what has been said to you, she is gone.

It is only at the end of the day, many hours after she has left, and you are already inside your car that you rummage in your pants pocket looking for the car key that you find the note.

It is a piece torn from the page of the book "Unmoored in milan", the paper stained with drink. In the corner, in cursive letters it is written. "to my favorite secret agent. Leigh Shaw, Los Angeles."

You smiled at the words, and as you were driving back to New York, you wondered how long it would take Natasha to find out Leigh's phone number.

//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

@mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @HELLOALYCIA // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm

// @sxfwap // @table57

[helloalycia]

overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)

summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.

warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.

author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x

part two | masterlist | wattpad

"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.

When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.

When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.

Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?

I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."

I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.

"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."

The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.

She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.

Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.

"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to– shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."

She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.

"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."

I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.

"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."

It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.

"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."

I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.

"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."

The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.

"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."

The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.

Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?

The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.

More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.

Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?

I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.

No, I had to go there. She needed backup.

—

Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.

I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.

When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.

There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.

As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.

"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"

I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"

He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"

My stomach dropped. "The what?"

"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."

A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.

"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"

After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.

Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.

Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.

"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"

He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"

I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.

"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.

"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.

My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."

"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."

Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."

When I couldn’t, I added in my head.

He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.

"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."

I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.

Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.

"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"

I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."

Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."

My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.

Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.

She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.

"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"

I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...

"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."

She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.

"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"

"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."

She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."

I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.

Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.

"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."

She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.

"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."

At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."

Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.

"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.

With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.

We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.

I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"

She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."

"Oh, I don't have to do that–"

"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."

I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.

"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.

"I'd like that."

I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."

—

Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?

As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.

When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.

About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.

"When are you leaving?"

I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.

"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.

She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."

I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.

She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."

I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."

A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | Drabble 5

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Another little drabble! It's hard to give this couple up 🥺 this is also a scene that was basically deleted from the main series, so it's been given a time jump! I didn't want people to think it was a cliche moment (it kinda is) but...I think this gives some good clarity on how the MC has grown! Unedited as on mobile.

-

"Do you think your mom will like this?" You query, brows farrowing together as you turn the elegantly decorated plant pot around in your hands. It would match her current living room decor and she loved gardening.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah...why?" Hoseok asks with a distracted tone, his attention grabbed with the collection of fake plants. The two of you had come to a home decoration store as you wanted to redecorate your bedroom. He wasn't hugely interested in how it was done and you were pretty sure that he was here just to spend time with you.

Which was sweet and you loved that he was content to just be with you, but he wasn't being very helpful right now.

"...her birthday? It's next week, we're taking her out for dinner, remember?" He pauses for a moment before his lips turn into a circle.

"Oh yeah, shit. I need to book the table for that." Before you can say anything else, he's pulling out his phone and tapping away on it.

Sighing, you place the pot into the cart and begin to look with an eye for your bedroom. You wanted to inject more plants into the house but Kasumi just tried to eat real ones, so you were stuck with fake plants.

"How about C'est Bonne? Wait no, she doesn't like French food. Hmmm, Italian feels boring though. Do you think she'd like Thai, I think that'd be alright." Hoseok is muttering to himself as he scrolls and you smile affectionately.

To say he'd completely forgotten, you weren't surprised that he was throwing himself into it now.

"Hoseok?" For a moment, neither of you respond. You, because it wasn't your name and so you weren't conditioned to respond to it, and Hoseok because it wasn't your voice.

His head jerked up in confusion, gaze going to you first before looking around. The voice calls again from your left and you turn to see who it is, wondering who was calling out your husband's name.

What you didn't expect is for Hoseok's face to open in surprise, shocked recognition taking over his expression. Like, real shock and you're even more confused and intrigued.

"Yoona?" He asks, his tone slightly unsure and you realise it's obviously someone he once knew. You've heard him mention the name at some point, but you can't remember why you know it.

"It is you! Oh my god, it's so good to see you. How long has it been?" The woman in question, Yoona, smiles brightly and you observe that she's pretty. Very pretty with the kind of hair you see in commercials.

She's wearing plain black jeans that conform to her legs alongside a subtly flowered shirt. Her black pea coat tops it off with a matching deep purple scarf and beanie to cope with the colder weather.

"Err...a while." Hoseok laughs, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck and you recognise the awkward movement. He's a little uncomfortable and your stomach turns as you wonder if this is one of his hook ups.

Surprisingly, you'd never met one of them given how prolific he'd been. Though you did wonder how many of them had also been drunk and probably didn't remember him at all.

Still, you feel the urge to comfort him and move closer, resting your hand on his back in assurance. He straightens a little at the touch before relaxing into you, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulder and hugging you into him a little more strongly than you'd anticipated.

"Oh, Meeps this is Yoona, the girl in college who got me to sort my shit out?" Hoseok's brows rise as his voice turns dry before he looks back at Yoona. "This is Y/N, my wife."

Her eyes flick over to you and surprisingly enough, she doesn't give you a once over. You almost expected her to view you as some kind of threat or rival, but the reassuring smile she gives makes you realise how silly that would be.

"Really? Oh my god, Hoseok! I'm so happy for you, and for you, Y/N! I always knew he had the makings of a good partner, even if he couldn't see it. I'm glad you finally took my advice." Yoona says before reaching out to shake your hand politely.

Surprisingly, it's not nearly as awkward as you'd think to meet one of your husband's ex-flings. Especially one who'd had such an influence on his life.

"Erm, thank you. Hoseok's talk about you sometimes, thank you for helping him back then." You say shyly, feeling your stomach twist uncertainly as you take your hand back and play with your fingers.

Just like he always has, Hoseok instinctively knows when you're not comfortable and he reaches for one of your hands. 

"I've told her lots of things over the years," He grins before kissing your forehead. "My therapy was very good, I promise."

That's directed to Yoona who laughs sweetly and nods in appreciation.

"Good, good, I'm glad. Anyway, I've got to be going but...it was nice to see you! And I'm really happy that you've found someone. I'd love to get to know you better but I'm sure you're amazing. Gotta be to have captured this guy's attention." She smiles and gestures towards you, causing you to feel hot with embarrassment.

"Erm, thank you." You mutter, unsure of how to react. But you're surprisingly okay with her and don't feel any form of threat, even with her important history with Hoseok. It was clear there were no feelings between either of them and you genuinely felt that she was a good person.

Before either of you could say anything else, she said her goodbyes and headed towards the cashiers at the front of the store. There was a brief moment of silence as you both tried to compute what had happened and Hoseok recovered quicker than you did.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his words laced with concern that matched the worry in his eyes. You knew why he was feeling like that - Yoona was beautiful, once upon a time he'd slept with her and she'd helped him realise how to move forward. Or at least take the steps there.

If this had happened in the first year of your relationship then you probably would feel disconcerted, unsure what to think about this blast from his past. But you weren't that girl anymore, and whilst you still had your anxieties, you had full and complete faith in Hoseok.

Plus, he'd been as blindsided by her as you were. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was nice to finally meet the famous Yoona, she seemed nice." You comment, slipping your arm through his and leaning against him as you both walked towards the bedroom section. Bring so close to him meant that you could practically feel him relax at your words.

"Good, good. I didn't...well I didn't know what to think, really. I was worried you'd be upset or something." Hoseok admits, trailing his hand down your coat sleeve until he can grasp your fingers between his own.

"No, I know all about your history and it was only a matter of time before we met someone. And like I said, she was sweet." There's still some uneasiness in his demeanour though and you squeeze his hand before gently poking the back of it with a finger.

The movement makes him smile and you feel relief at him looking a little happier.

"Seriously, I'm okay. Are you okay?" It was probably a big thing to accidentally meet up with such an important fling, but but could understand why he wasn't comfortable with it all.

That was a part of his past that he wasn't entirely happy with colliding with his very happy present. So you just held on to him as he worked through his feelings.

"Yeah...yeah I am. It was just weird to see her, you know? Never expected that." He let's his free hand trail over a soft, velvet cushion idly and you hum in contemplation.

"I get it. But don't fret over it, okay? I'm fine with it all and...well, it was nice to meet the woman who helped to bring the Hoseok I know to life. Or at least, started the process. Without her, we wouldn't be here."

Hoseok is silent as he considers that, his lips twisting before he licks at his lip ring and nods.

"Yeah, you're right. She's the one part of my past that I'm okay with you seeing in person. I should've thanked her…" Muttering, he sighs before shrugging with a lopsided smile.

"Oh well, let's carry on shopping. Your decorations await! And I need to finish booking that table...I'm actually thinking of maybe trying that Lebanese place…"

[comfortscripts]

May I Have This Dance? ¬ Steve Rogers

Plot - After retiring his shield, Steve's partner realises that he seems to be missing something.

Requested? Yes/No

Genre - ☁️️Fluff ☁️️

Note/Warning - Steve didn't return to Peggy after Endgame (I refuse to accept that ending honestly), I think this is GN but please let me know if I have used fem!pronouns, also the reader wears a dress in this so if you are uncomfortable with that be aware.

Word Count - 1.7k

After your husband Steve retired from the superhero living, life seemed dull in his eyes. You could see that his once vibrant baby blues had lost their sparkle, their joy for life.

Whilst him having more time meant that your relationship thrived, Steve was missing something and you were missing him being truly happy.

It was Sunday and a rule of the Rogers relationship is that Sunday was an "Old School Day".

No technology, no going to the city and no current news or media of any kind.

It took a while to get use to but you soon learned to love it because it meant that you had the whole day with your soulmate, no distractions. But today was different, there was one thing that had taken up your entire focus all day.

A few days prior, you were in line at the supermarket when you spotted a flyer.

DANCE YOURSELF BACK TO THE 40s!

Have you ever wondered what a 40s dance was like?

Well if the answer is yes, get yourself down to the Michaelton Hall this Sunday at 7:30pm

The cashier was a motherly looking woman in her late 60s named Dorothy, her family had owned the supermarket here since the 1920s and being a cashier here was her first job. Twice a week she would come down and "relive her youth" as her husband always jokes.

"I thought that might catch your eye" Dorothy spoke after watching you inspect the flyer. "The old music, the clothes and just that feeling of a simpler time. I'm hoping to convince William to take me but getting him to dress up like a princess is more likely than getting him to dance."

You laugh at the woman's joke but mainly at the idea of William in a frilly dress. William and Dorothy had been married for 52 years but the only time William ever danced with her was on their wedding night, a story that you thought was sad but Dora took it in her stride.

"Well I am thinking that this might be a good way to get Steve out of his funk, even for only a night" You say with a wistful look on your face whilst piling fruit into your shopping bag.

"What a wonderful idea my dear!" Dorothy exclaimed whilst scanning the final item "There is a quaint little vintage store about half a mile out of town, I am sure you'd find a dress to knock Steve's socks off"

Smiling at the woman, you hand her some cash before taking one last look at the flyer "You are like a fairy godmother Dora. Have a lovely day and hopefully see you at the dance".

By the next morning, you were keen to start prepping for the Sunday surprise. Giving your husband a kiss goodbye, you headed off to 'run some errands'.

First stop was buying the tickets, then that left you with finding the perfect 40s dress.

You headed out of town to the vintage store Dorothy mentioned but you were not prepared for how beautiful the shop was. Flowers in corners all over the place, fairy-lights decorated the clothing racks and old pieces of sparkling jewellery was displayed throughout the store.

You could have spent hours in there, it felt like a visual time machine but it seemed luck was on your side. As you strolled further into the store, you noticed a stunning pastel floor-length satin dress with light embellishments near the sleeves. That was exactly what you needed.

Everything was ready. Tickets were bought, dress was found and Steve's old military suit was ready to be worn. All you had to do now was keep it from your husband till Sunday.

Making it to Sunday evening was difficult, you had nearly exposed the plans twice but thankfully Steve believed the excuses you came up with. But now it was time to get ready.

"My love, guess what I found the other day in the attic" You call out to your super-solider husband. "Your old army uniform. Perfect condition as well".

Handing the outfit to Steve, you see his eyes light up with the memories of his time back in the 1940s. Although he looked only slightly older than he did the last time he wore it, it was like looking back in time.

"Wow, I didn't think I would ever see this again." He spoke caressing the material.

"Steve, do you think you could maybe try it on again? I would love to have a glimpse of what use to be the fashion" You asked carefully, trying to make sure he didn't suspect anything else.

A small smile graced his face. "Of course, I probably would have wanted to try it on either way" And with a laugh, he headed upstairs to suit up.

Whilst the super-solider was getting ready, you slipped into your dress and quickly slipped on an oversized shirt which made it look like you were wearing a long skirt and t-shirt. Applying a bit of makeup before double checking that your purse was ready with the tickets, car keys and some other essentials.

Hearing footsteps descend your staircase, you turn around to a fully suited and confident looking Steve Rogers. This man has managed to make you fall more in love every day for the past 6 years but in this moment, he took your breath away.

"You look so handsome. How did I ever get lucky enough to call you my husband?" You express as you reach up to lay the corner of his collar down. Even though you compliment your husband all the time, Steve still flushes a bit red at the sweet words.

Leaning in to give him a small kiss, you suddenly remember that you are on a time constraint. You pull back with a mischievous grin dancing on your face.

"Oh no, I know that face. What have you done?" Steve asks with a little chuckle. Instead of responding, you grab his hand and head out to the car. After instructing him to get into the passenger seat, you settle yourself in the driver's seat and start the car whilst Steve sits beside you watching like he was trying to solve a puzzle - the puzzle being you.

"I have a surprise for you but I am going to need you to put this blindfold on whilst I drive us there" With a grin on your face and your hand offering a silk blue blindfold to your incredibly confused but handsome husband.

Cautiously Steve reaches for the blindfold and puts it on, he would trust you with his life so why not trust you with a small surprise.

After driving for 15 minutes or so, Steve feels the car stop and turn off.

"Wait one second" You say before he hears you open your door.

Bubbling with excitement you quickly discard of your t-shirt, place some kitten heels on and apply a sultry shade of red on your lips before throwing anything you don't need in the trunk.

Walking over to Steve's side of the car, you calm your nerves slightly with a deep breathe. Opening the passenger door, you take a hold of Steve's hand and carefully guide him towards the entrance of the hall.

Sounds of Moonlight Serenade songs fill his ears as he enters, still completely oblivious to his partner's scheme. He notices that it is far warmer in this area and that he can smell a mix of perfume and whiskey.

"Okay baby, when I count to 3, you can take off your blindfold" You finally say.

"1"

"2"

"3"

As Steve removes the silk blocking his vision and is immediately hit with a feeling of nostalgia. The hall looked like something out of his memories; men and women dressed in 40s fashion dancing the night away, a small band playing all the most popular songs from the decade he yearned for, men who reminded him of Bucky trying to pick up girls at the bar.

Steve thought that he was blown away until he saw his Y/N. The person who made life worth living, who made everything seem light again. There they stood, looking like they had just walked off the silver screen from an old movie. Steve never really believed that he could live such a happy life but somewhere along the way, he must have done something right because now he is married to an angel.

Walking up to you, he placed his hands on your waist and looked deep into your eyes. Drowning in Steve's ocean blue eyes was a favourite past-time of yours but this felt more than that.

"I noticed you have been a bit down since you gave up the shield and I couldn't see you frown anymore." You whisper quietly as if you were nervous that this plan wouldn't work.

"I know I say it constantly but I love you, Y/N Rogers. Your kindness, your care, your effortless beauty, you." Steve recited, filling every word with pure love and appreciation. "Sometimes I think that I am no one if I am not Captain America or I don't belong in this world but you. You, Y/N, you made me realise that you are my home, not the past. You are the only one I need in this life-time or any other life-time because you taught me who I am beyond the shield."

Tears start to well up in your eyes as you hang off his every word.

"This dance is amazing but what makes me happy is that I get to spend tonight and every night with my soulmate" Steve takes a step back and extends his hand. "So, may I have this dance my darling?"

Reaching for his hand, you make your way onto the dance floor amongst the other couples. As the song dies down, Stella by Frank Sinatra starts filling the hall with a romantic atmosphere and you feel Steve place his hand on your hip before placing another in your hand. This was truly a night to remember.

As you sway with your husband, you let your eyes wander to the other dancing couples and near the centre of the dance floor, you spot Dorothy and William smiling and swaying like teenagers again.

All you can do is hope that you and Steve will be dancing together when you are old and grey.

[hughiecampbelle]

Dating Ajak Would Include:

Requested: anon

She never meant to fall for a human

Ajak knows how, in comparison, small the mortal life is. How fragile they can be. She never wanted to love someone like that, love someone who wouldn't be there for very long

And yet, when she found you, she couldn't help herself

You hadn't met Ajak until she moved into her home

Your home was the closest for miles, the both of you enjoying your seclusion. You never even realized anyone moved into that house until you saw her a few times, going into town, running errands

You wanted to introduce yourself, be neighborly

Everyone in town knew everyone, had been there since they were born and wouldn't leave, not even after they've passed- so it was exciting to be able to talk to someone new

If only you knew how I yetesting she would be. . . .

You of course didn't show up empty handed, making something comforting you hoped she'd like

Ajak wasn't expecting anyone when you knocked, and was a little hesitant to answer the door, but she saw your smile, slightly embarrassed but excited, and knew she could trust you

You didn't want to be a bother at all, not wanting to impose, but she insisted you come in, join her for coffee or tea

You were the first person, besides some of the cashiers she made painful small talk with, she ever got to know in this town

The first thing you noticed was Ajaks kindness

She had an easy laugh, she was warm and welcoming. You knew wherever she went she lit up a room. The house, which had been abandoned for some time, seemed so much warmer now that she owned it

Normally she was private and would have kept to herself, but she liked you. There was something different about you. She'd warned the others about how complicated any relationship (platonic or romantic) could be when it came to blending in with the mortal world

She wasn't afraid with you

She wasn't afraid at the idea of being something with you

Of course you were just friends, that's all, but she couldn't stop thinking about you, about being more than just friends . . . .

In fact, she invited you back again, surprising herself

Eventually you were coming over a few nights a week, and she was coming to your place, sharing dinner, swapping stories

She kept hers vague, innocently forgetting names, though you were hearing some of the most embarrassing secrets her family had

You became close instantly

When you didn't see her, just for a few minutes, your day felt off

The both of you came up with the silliest reasons to knock on one another's doors and talk

It took a lot of courage, eventually she asked you out. On a real date, she clarified, where you got dressed up and went out

You wanted nothing more

It's like you'd already been on a dozen dates before. There was no awkward silence, there was no shyness or small talk. It was comfortable, though her beauty did make your face hot. . . .

Ajak was strategic in what she did and did not share about her life

She couldn't bear the thought of scaring you away with everything

Still, she knew you'd have to find out eventually

You were basically a couple before you ever put that kind of label on it

She wasn't big on PDA, but when it was just the two of you she was very affectionate, always needing to be close to you

You slept over one another's houses, taking care of your animals together

She surprised you by cooking all your favorite meals

One thing about Ajak, she was a fantastic cook

You knew it was something out of a middle school, but you did it anyways: giving her a note, asking if she wanted to be your girlfriend, yes or no?

What kind of a question is that?

She still has it, circled yes with a bunch of heart doodles around it

Part of her feels like you were always meant to be, that something in the universe wanted you to be with one another

It wasn't until after months into your relationship did she finally start to tell you everything. . . .

If it was anyone else, she would have waited until you were a few years into your relationship, but she knew definitively that you would be together for a long time

She needed you to know before it was too late

She started off with the most shocking thing: she was eternal

"This is a joke, right?"

You were waiting for her to laugh or to say it was a prank

She didn't of course

It was then she talked about her family, the people you'd heard tons of stories about, this time with their real names, their powers, how they came to this world, about Arishem and the Deviants

She explained that she was the leader, the mother figure, but when she couldn't keep them all together, safe and happy, it hurt her the most

When the Deviants were all gone, they went their separate ways

Sprite still visited her, the little girl you saw often, the one Ajak claimed was her "neice"

Then she showed you her healing abilities

"This, this isn't real."

She knew how it sounded, that it was a lot of to process, but she needed you to know. She didn't want to lie to you anymore

She gave you the time and space to process, fearing you didn't want to see her again, but understanding why you wouldn't, too

However shocked you were, you couldn't stay away from her for more than a week

You weren't really sure what to say, though you didn't want to hear any apologies. It's who she is and you love her, even if she is millions of years old

She looked pretty good for her age, you had to admit

There was one thing on your mind that kept you up at night, that made you the most worried and scared. Finally, you had to ask her

"I just need to know, are you in danger?"

She assures you all the Deviants are gone

It doesn't change the way you think or feel about her, though of course you can't stop being in awe every times she heals a cut or bruise

And it doesn't change your relationship

You ride horses together. She excitedly wakes you up to watch the sunrise. You fall asleep to cheesy old movies. She is always there to make sure you're wearing your coat or have enough hot water

She never stops taking care of you, and in return, you never stop taking care of her

She tells you stories about her family, about the people she knew and helped in all the years she's been on Earth

You cherish all of them, thankful you get to hear those pieces of history

You already love her family, even the members who are more than a little moody and confrontational

Neither of you ever question your love for one another

You love and life are so simple, so easy, so sweet

It's perfect

More than perfect, of course

That is, until Ikaris shows up. . . . .

[shayprose]

On my gender identity

When I was really little, I was othered almost immediately. I never could be sure why; I played outside like all the other little boys, I loved climbing trees, I went fishing and camping with my dad and brother, I played soccer and ran cross country. I did all the rough-and-tumble things that kids my age did, and I enjoyed them.

Despite those objectively masculine activities, there was always a specter of difference hovering around me that everyone could see but me. My dad's friends would curl up their lips in revulsion at me when I would tell a story about the hummingbird I saw in our feeder and the cashiers at our local supermarket would make snide remarks to my mom when we were checking out, as if I couldn't hear them ("We gotta toughen that boy up, Cathy. He must be last picked often, eh?").

Words like "faggot" and "homo" and "queer" were starting to punctuate sentences when it came to any discourse about my existence, and all of it was said around me, never really at me. With my youthful indifference to the world, I sort of shrugged it off and assumed all of my friends experienced the same thing. Why would it be just me?

My tale isn't really a unique one, and I've told this story before. I bring it up again now because, after many, many months of therapy, something new has started to bubble up in my subconscious as a result of facing all of these scarring memories: I never really liked being called a "boy." To be clear, I don't think I would have liked being called a girl, either.

Before high school, when I was still hiding inside my very active imagination, where every tree stump represented a way to talk to the fairies my Irish grandmother taught me about, I wrinkled my nose when I'd hear people tell my parents that I "needed to harden up -- be a man." Then, when my friends started working out because it's what guys do, I felt a twinge of fear because I wasn't interested in that (but I started working out, anyway).

I started wondering why I was being told to spend my energy learning how to fight when I could be just as happy writing stories in my head about rescuing children from evil kingdoms? If "being a boy" meant I had to exchange my parents' old Halloween costumes, which let me pretend to be Winnifred Sanderson, for a set of free weights, then I wanted no part in it. I just didn't know what else I'd call myself except for "girl," and that didn't fit, either.

I knew that because my cousins explained that to me. They are two beautiful and talented, powerful women now, and they were raised in the south before they were transplanted to the ultra conservative north. As such, they had a fairly similar upbringing to mine -- girls were girls, through and through, and boys were boys.

When we'd play together, I was so excited to brush their Barbies' hair and would dress them up in different outfits, but I knew by then that I had to pretend to hate it because this is what girls did. Not boys. So I developed this covert ops way of getting them to let me play with their dolls that involved a lot of cajoling: "Come on, Aimee -- I bet I can braid her hair faster. And also, let's maybe exchange tops, because your Barbie is a princess and I think mine just wants to visit the fairy kingdom, right? Or am I wrong? I think I'm right." They would remind me that it was weird that I, a boy, wanted to play with their dolls, but they were good sports about it. Thank you for that.

As I got older, the conversations about my differences weren't happening around me anymore -- they were happening at me. It was blunt and always directed right at the tender softness of my identity, where it would hurt the most: "No one knows what you are. Are you a boy? Are you a girl?" "I'm surprised you aren't wearing a dress, you faggot," and "So many people want to kill you. My dad does, even, you freak."

So, I'll pause here because the stage is set -- you know the rest. There were a few harrowing years of suicidal ideation in high school, a lot of black clothing, and the shared desperation I found in a ragtag group of "band geeks" to round out my adolescent experience.

I was a gender betrayer and people knew it my whole life, well before I did. I paid the price in tears and blood, and am paying it now in a whole lot of therapy bills.

When I got to college and my worldview exploded outward for the diversity of it all, I learned in an anthropology class that "gay" and "lesbian" were actually their own genders now (this was more than a decade ago, folks -- go easy on me here) and that gay people in general of course didn't fit the primary genders of "man" and "woman."

'Salvation!' I thought. This explains everything. I lived my whole life as a gay and had no idea that it could mean my gender expression was meant to be different from the true men I grew up with. No WONDER I didn't fit in.

And then the bifurcation of the gay identity became clearer to me. I wasn't just a gay man -- I was a "femme." The lowest on the totem pole. This was pre-RuPaul's Drag Race phenomena, and I found myself having to work out again. In order to be heard or noticed -- or loved -- I had to pile on the masculinity, wherever it made sense, and I had to pretend to hate the rainbow-plastered paraphernalia of that culture. If I embraced it, I'd be pushed even further away from the acceptance I desperately craved, and so I dismissed a lot of what my peers were doing. "Being gay is not my whole identity," I'd say, proudly. "I am much, much more than who I sleep with."

I didn't know back then that I was constructing an even darker narrative than the one I was forced to accept when I was a teenager: the gender identity that I thought I could inhabit safely and wholly -- a gay -- ended up betraying me again, and I had no other choice but to numb that hurt (a different story, but enter addiction). Other "gays" were so quick to dismantle the familiarity I was hoping for, even at my liberal arts university. It wasn't long before I found my way to the real culprit here: language itself.

Linguistics, one of my passions in school, unlocked so many new pathways forward for me. I could haughtily dismiss the prescriptive grammarians who espoused restrictive rules and order, declaring those Old Ways dated and not vogue. I could wield the freedom of curiosity like a sword, hacking through the patriarchal power that words held over our society, and I quickly snubbed pronouns altogether. 'Why must we all be thrust into a binary?' and 'Why are some entire languages constructed around this image of the dominant male versus the subordinate female?' were conversations I liked to have with people, which quickly turned into, 'Why can't men wear dresses? Clothing is just something to cover our nakedness; men USED to wear dresses, after all!'

In short, like most college students, I gained the ability to question our world's modus operandi. The word on my lips, to the chagrin of my professors (or joy, depending on who it was), was "Why?" Why must men like sports and women cook? Why are gay men who like makeup the last picked for dates? Why are lesbians the outcasts of the queer community?

Essentially, I was every other non-hetero experiencing the bright sunbeams of their self-awareness flicker through the clouds of our society that prefer tidy predictability: why must a person who is born with a penis never cry?

Fast forward several years, and I'm confronted by the same thoughts and feelings that occurred during my identity renaissance, but at a corporate level. In my current role, hiring and firing are among my duties, and I've experienced an array of conflicting conversations regarding this practice, especially as they relate to someone's identity.

In one example, a manager said, "It's maybe my bias here, but I don't want to see the man succeed. Let's investigate why other people have encouraged him to apply and go with the woman." This manager, who I respect completely, also identifies as a woman. I shrugged, assuming I missed something -- the other candidate (the woman) scored a lot lower in the process compared to the man, and the other interviewers for this role also identified as women. We did move forward with the second candidate and the man bowed out of the process, but it all felt a little forced. A little bit of that same "othering" felt like it was coming alive here for me, despite this entire situation being centered around a man being disadvantaged.

A few weeks later, in a casual conversation, the same manager said, "Guys don't know what it's like to have to fight for everything they have. Right, Shay? You can admit that."

Ah. That was the energy I was sensing. I was being joined into the same category as the "men" again.

I agree with this assessment of inherent male privilege, as an aside. The men who were invited to sleepovers, who had a lot of other male friends, who didn't ever have any rainbows to take off, who could walk into a room and never be afraid that they would stand out for their invisible otherness, who never experienced the cruel digs at their identities before they knew what their identity was -- they probably didn't have to fight hard. But I ... I had this:

You can't play with our Barbies, Shay. You're a boy. That's gross. You can't be on our team anymore, faggot. Go play with the girls. You aren't masculine enough. Butch up. Which bathroom do you use, queer? If you're going in that one, I'll wait here. I don't know how you haven't killed yourself yet, you boy-girl.

And I know it isn't that manager's fault. She knows my pronouns as "he/him," and I've never really thought to correct that. She sees me as a tall, bearded, male-presenting person, and so the assumption is clear to her that I inhabit this body comfortably, and from my newfound confidence from these past few sober years, it probably seems like I've always been this way: happily ambiguous, makeup-wearing and proud.

She doesn't know that a few years before this conversation happened, this moment was part of my story: A time when I was sharing with someone that I wanted to join the Account Management department at a former company, and their answer was: You wouldn't fit in with that culture, Shay. It's kind of a boy's club, you know? Not for you. Stay in Support. and that people who remember me from the past say: Wow -- I didn't peg you to be the type to work in tech. Isn't that where dudes work? Weren't you better off at Sephora?

She doesn't know any of my story, actually. All she can know is that I've never corrected how she interprets my outward presentation. And I know what this sounds like. Another white guy is complaining about not being as marginalized as X.

So, I'm stuck here now, living in the distance between being proud of my fight for what I have and being afraid of how I'll be perceived if I resist when people look at my body and claim some sort of awareness about my journey. If I accept what my mirror says -- a white, male-presenting person -- then I have to ignore the gritted teeth and sheer determination (and the rape and the numbing of my memories with alcohol and the physical assault and the fear at night I have because I "can't take my rainbow off") that it took for me to break into a world that wasn't built for me. I have to start wearing only "boy" clothes again and never do my eyebrows, and I have to "butch up" and "stop crying." It would mean that I ignore the fact that my every atom resents the word "male" on government forms because I have never been, and never will be, what the world thinks of when that word is uttered. I do not share the boys' club experience; it was never an option for me (just ask the ladies at the supermarket who told my mother the 7-year-old version of me needed to be beaten up a little to "toughen me up").

I don't really mind what words you use to label me -- he, they, she, it all feels a little arbitrary -- but whatever you do, please do not tell me that you understand my journey because you can see the beard on my face. To do so would be to invalidate the hell I've climbed out of to be here. And please be kind to people who pushback on your perceptions of their identities. We all struggle in this life, and to hold everyone accountable to a binary we were born into is pretty limiting. If you feel content and whole in your gender that was assigned at birth, then first: I'm truly so happy for you. Second, I hope you can also be open and curious about other stories.

All of this to say: I don't think I'm a man or a woman. I don't know what that means or how I'll proceed from here, but it feels so freeing to stop pretending that I have to fit in. I can just be ... me, beard hair, lipstick, dresses, hiking, and all, and if my story can help someone else who's struggling to find their way, then I'm happy to have told it. This is for you.

And to all the nonbinary, gender fluid, and, most importantly, the extraordinary members of the trans community who've boldly and proudly made this language possible for me to explore: thank you. Thank you for making the world suddenly click into place for me, 34 years later.

[lovelytarou]

the language of flowers — oikawa tooru

pairing: oikawa tooru x gn! reader

genre: fluff, flowershop!au

tags: flowerboy!oikawa, slowburn, strangers to lovers

word count: 4.06k

a/n: i finally finished this after 2536484 years of procrastination! but thanks to my moots shae and julie for showing support and giving their opinions about this concept hehe. this is the longest fic i've written wow 😳

⤷ summary: the flowershop on the street you frequently walk on going home is a wonder you didn't notice until recently when the smell of flowers caught your attention. deciding to enter it one day out of pure curiosity, you met the owner of the shop and with it, the start of a blooming romance.

life was filled with repeating patterns, certain routines and habits that everybody has gotten used to doing. like the way you always took the same path when going home, passing by the familiar faces you encounter all the time, seeing the similar architecture and landscape that brings some sort of familiarity to you whenever you see it. 

your feet stopped in their own accord when a sweet smell invaded your nose. you inhaled deeply, the aroma pleasant and fresh. going a few steps back, you finally saw where it was coming from. the flower shop stood out like a sore thumb in the street with its vibrant flowers that you can see through the clear glass. the sunlight was shining down upon the beautiful flowers and they looked charming even from afar. 

you thought for a moment and decided that you'd stop by in the flower shop for a little while. besides, if the smell alone has caught your attention, who knows what else can? 

the soft tinkle of the bell on the door signalled your presence. you were simply in awe at the sight of the decorations inside the shop. it was breathtaking. numerous flowers, bouquets, wreaths, and some that you don't know the name about were placed neatly and elegantly inside the shop to let the customers feast their eyes (and noses) upon. 

giggles and loud laughter snatched you away from your thoughts, a huddled group of women and men alike are circling over something - or someone? - and they seemed to be too entertained about it than the flowers themselves. chuckling quietly, you shook your head and decided to look around the place more for yourself. 

there were buckets and baskets of anemones in pinks, reds, and purple. there were also daffodils, camellias, and tulips of many colors that you can't help but get sucked in by them. you can't think which one to go to first, there are so many! the hanging plants are wonderful as well, they can make for great decoration. the succulents look cute and adorable, it can also be manageable if you find yourself too busy to take care of a plant. 

you were too deep in your thoughts, caressing a blue tulip to even notice the sudden silence in the shop and the ringing of the bell at the door that tells you the previous patrons have exited the flower shop and you're now alone. or so you thought.

“beautiful,” a sing-songy, lilting voice spoke from behind you, causing you to jolt from where you're admiring the flower and turned towards the owner of the voice. 

if the flowers took your breath away, well he made you get your breath stuck in your throat. he looks like he's not from around him, and simply breathing in his space is something short of disgraceful. you took in his wavy side-swept dark brown hair, and his welcoming eyes of the same color that shone with mischief. his lips are stretched into a smile. 

wow, he is really tall. you're surprised he hadn't reached the ceiling of the shop. he seemed pretty intimidating with his height alone, but there's an air around him that screams playfulness.

“ah, i meant the tulips.” he apologized as a blush coated his beautiful clear cheeks, a hand touching his nape.

“oh!” you cleared your throat, immediately bringing the tulip back where it respectfully resides, “yes, they're very wonderful to look at. you have a lovely shop, uh…” 

he seemed to perk up at the inquisition of his name, he chuckled to himself before offering his hand.

“oikawa tooru, nice to meet you! and thanks, i do try hard to keep this flower shop presentable for customers like you who have taste.” he winked, walking past you and you followed suit – eyes practically glued to his form as he moved swiftly around his small shop.

“must be difficult to run a business like this all by yourself,” you wondered, fingers brushing against petals that your hand can reach. 

it's odd, but staying in there for just a few minutes has brought you a sense of relaxation. as if the flowers all around you and talking to oikawa is such a breath of fresh air. 

“well, you get used to it after a while. besides, i have my friends, uh...help me sometimes.” he nervously chuckled, he certainly knew that 'help' means that force his friends to carry things around while blackmailing them and bribing them for lunch, then sure, he had them help him. 

you only hummed in response. 

he turned around after a while, a pink lily in his hand.

“i think this suits our gorgeous customer, don't you think?” he smirked, handing the flower with a flourish which you took gently – causing your hands to touch and making you feel that slight tingle people talk about in movies and books. 

you felt silly about the way your face heats up at the small gesture, your gaze not straying away from the flowers in fear of letting oikawa see his effect on you. 

but you can try with all your might, nothing can stop him from already seeing your flushed face. he always does these things to entertain the customers but he found his chest feeling warm staring at you like that.

going back to his place in the cashier, he started to tidy up a bit for the next customers that will visit the shop. his brown eyes kept staring at you from time to time as you walked around, trying to see if there's anything else you could buy along with the lily – but we all know it's just to keep your attention away from him and the fact that he can make your heart race with mere flirting.

“i never really noticed your shop before, and i have walked this street for how many times now.” you droned on, playing with the cute pots on the shelf – some of them were heads of the cliché green alien and other space themed stuff which you find adorable, bringing a fond smile to your face.

“oikawa's flower shop is like a secret garden, my dear customer.” he boasted, spraying freesias on the cashier desk with a smile on his face.

“it truly looks like one,” you agreed, with one final look in the flower shop, you walked closer to the cashier and got out your wallet. 

“no, no. it's on the house, lovely.” he beamed, stopping the hand in your bag.

“really? thank you.” your face flushed at the feeling of his hands – the very same one who took care of these beautiful flowers – touching yours. 

he recoiled, as if burned. his face painted a deep red like the roses by the windows. both of you looked away, like two magnets of the same sign – coming in contact with each other only to repel.

“well, um, i'll see you around then.” you muttered, breaking the silence. 

“yeah, see you.” oikawa smiled warmly. hopefully much sooner, he hoped.

with one last look at each other, you turned around and exited the secret garden. you walked home that day all smiles and giddy, still feeling the lingering touch he has left on your skin, how warm and calloused they felt. maybe from how hard he was working. 

you wondered if you'll ever see him again soon. 

the second time you visited the flower shop was when you saw oikawa in one of the coffee shops you frequented. it turned out that he usually stops by for coffee and his milk bread when the shop's particularly slow. he asked to walk you home and since you're both taking the same path, you agreed. 

he turned out to be a very chatty person – not the kind that will annoy you because they only talk about themselves, but the amusing kind because he has a lot of stories stored inside his big brain full of tales about him and his friends, and occasionally asking about your life as well.

you two had fallen into a comfortable pace as you walked together, sipping both your beverages. 

“hey, let's play truth or dare!” he blurted, eyes sparkling in excitement and thinly veiled mischief, a bright smile on his lips.

“really? here? now?” you asked, incredulous. isn't this something people do in parties around a lot of people? 

“yeah! it'll be fun,” he shrugged. 

“well, okay then.” you sighed, before sipping your drink, “you go first.” 

“okay…” he pretended to think hard, eyes darting everywhere as he hummed, “truth or dare?”

“you don't really need to think so hard about that,” you chuckled.

“just pick!” 

“alright, alright. truth!” you beamed at him, trying to understand what his brain will cook up to ask you.

“ah, that's easy. what's your name?” oh, that's right. you forgot to tell him back then the first time you went in his flower shop. and so, you told him.

“y/n. what a beautiful name. okay, my turn! my turn!” he excitedly chanted, eyes never losing their sparkle. 

you ignored the butterflies that erupted in your stomach the moment he said your name, as if he's taking his time and tasting it around his tongue like a foreign delicacy he hasn't tasted before. 

you cleared your throat, averting his gaze as they zeroed in on you, “truth or dare, mr. milk bread?” 

“hey, they taste really good, i'll have you know.” he scoffed, before his face morphed back into excitement again, “dare!”

you thought for a moment, there isn't really anything too interesting to do while walking. and then you smirked.

“i dare you to greet the person who will walk this corner as if you knew each other for a very long time,” you grinned devilishly. he gaped at that, before darting his gaze towards the street corner you were talking about. 

“y/n-chan, i didn't know you would be the type,” he teased, you were about to retort when a huge, buff man walked around the corner. he looked intimidating, even for you and you wondered what oikawa might be feeling right now. 

but you didn't need to wonder about it any longer as he was already walking up to the man, confident and grinning. he raised his hand in the air before slapping the guy on the shoulder. 

“hey, long time no see, man! say hello to the wife and kids for me, will ya?” the man gave him a weird look before shaking his head, walking past and minding his own business muttering about 'kids these days'.

once the guy was out of earshot, you and oikawa bursted out in laughter, looking at each other with relief and surprise.

“i thought he was going to pulverize you!” you wheezed in between chortles.

“i know! me too! i thought he'll get mad at me or something,” he threw his head back as he laughed. you stopped your own giggles to stare back at him. he looked radiant as he let himself go, you thought he looked attractive with the way he candidly showed his happiness.

“something wrong, y/n-chan?” you hadn't realized he stopped laughing and was left staring at him. his head was tilted in curiosity as he peered at you in concern.

“not at all!,” you catch yourself, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed, hoping he didn't notice you ogling him, “where were we?”

“it's your turn now, truth or dare?” feeling bold, you chose dare next. 

oikawa gave you a broad smile, his hand extending towards you as if encouraging you to take it, “i dare you to stay a little longer with me in my shop,”

to be honest? you expected him to get back at you and maybe make you do an equally embarrassing (if not more) dare, but you did not expect this. 

what you also didn't expect is the fact that you had stopped in front of oikawa's flower shop with your back turned to it. how did you reach there so fast? it seemed like talking and walking with him made time stop. a part of you would like to keep it that way, if only it was possible.

“i would love to,” was your answer. oikawa opened the door to his shop, letting you in first. he then led you near the back of the shop, opening into a wide backyard that resembled a small, gorgeous garden with different kinds of flowers. some even you haven't seen him display in the shop inside. 

the two of you sat on the two seated table. you were simply at awe with how ethereal this all looked. your eyes couldn't get enough of all the wonderful colors that it landed on.

“wow,” was all you managed to say, taking in your surroundings and appreciating every nook and cranny presented to you.

“i spent most of my breaks here,” oikawa came back with two glasses of water and placed them on the glass table. 

“usually talking to myself and talking to the flowers. i heard it helps them grow faster and makes them more beautiful.” he, too, looked around his small garden with unconcealed pride and fondness. if you looked closer, you could also see the hint of sadness hidden in there. 

“you talk to your flowers? that's so cute!” you gushed, hiding your smile behind the glass of water as you sipped it.

“if anything, you're the one who's cute.” he complimented as if it was nothing, eyes boring into yours as his smile widened.

you choked on your water, coughing it up out of surprise and it was the opposite of cute. but his opinions didn't change.

oikawa barked a laugh, reaching over to pat your back soothingly. once you calmed down, you avoided his gaze once again and decided to stare at the sunflowers nearby. 

“we should just continue the game,” you decided to divert the topic. 

“truth or dare, cutie?” oikawa bit back the grin from emerging on his face. hiding it with a palm propped up on the table.

“d-dare,” you answered without thinking. and oikawa being the little shit he is, took this as an opportunity.

“i dare you to go on a date with me this saturday,” he sincerely declared, eyes not leaving you once. your head whipped back to him so fast, you swear you got whiplash. 

you're not one of these flowers and yet you felt the butterflies going wild inside of you.

your heart beat rapidly inside of your chest, pounding hard and ringing in your ears. 

“you don't need a dare to get me to say yes,” you reasoned with a wide smile.

oikawa tooru, like his flowers, is a lively, blooming person. you get to know that the moment you agreed to go on a date with him. it followed a few hangouts, and frequent bumping into each other considering this was a small town, afterall. how you haven't noticed such a vibrant person in your life was beyond you.

you see him everywhere, every day in your life right now. in the small bushes that your neighbor has in their garden, the alien and sci-fi movies in the store which were his favorite every time he invited you to watch a movie, the milk bread you saw in the coffee shop you both love to go, and even the characters in the books you love to read. oikawa tooru practically invaded your life the moment you invited yourself in his flowershop and you loved every second of it.

every time you two hang out together, he never misses to bring you any flower. you'd always keep them with you until you come home, placing them in a vase and watering them constantly, taking care of them like how much oikawa takes care of the flowers. you paid no mind to it, only thinking that it was a sweet gesture from him until your friend decided to comment on the fresh flowers on top of your coffee table.

the both of you had known each other for a very long time now and that she's going to get married, she wanted you to be a part of it too. setting down the tea in front of her on the table, you sat down beside her, engulfing her in a hug. 

“oh, y/n! i missed you so much! it's been busy with all the planning for the wedding and the people to invite, i still haven't tried on my dress and tasted the cake, it's kind of stressing me out!” she immediately let her sorrows and agony free the moment you let go of the hug.

“speaking of stress, is there anything i could do to help?” you reached for her hand, rubbing it soothingly in circles. 

she hummed thoughtfully, sipping her tea to calm her nerves, “now that i thought about it, we still don't know anyone good enough for the flower decorations in the venue,” she pouted, sighing sadly. 

a lightbulb lit itself on top of your head, making you perk up, “i know someone who does!” 

“really? are they good?” oh more than good, you wanted to butt in but shake your head free of those thoughts. 

“of course! he's actually the one who gave me these, he takes real good care of them.” you gestured towards the tulips in your vase. it seems like her eyes lit up and she immediately fell in love with the flowers. 

“tulips?! oh, y/n, my dear, he's in love with you!” she squealed in glee, bouncing in her seat like a little kid.

“how did you know that by simply looking at my tulips?” 

“giving tulips to someone means a declaration of love, sweetie.” she sighed dreamily, “you might as well plan for your wedding too!” 

“don't be ridiculous!” you exclaimed, trying your best not to smile too wide. 

you weren't too against on the idea, but you just met afterall. it would be too early for another wedding. even though he never failed to show his affection every time you are together, there's still a lingering doubt whether he did like you in that way.

as promised, you asked oikawa about it the next day, stopping by his flower shop with coffee and his beloved milk bread since it's his break. 

“y/n-chan! it's always a pleasure to be visited by you again,” he greeted you, he was attending to a few customers in the store and excused himself before talking to you. your heart swelled with the action, not being able to hide your smile this time.

“tooru, i was just stopping by to ask you a favor. my friend's wedding is getting near and she still doesn't have any flower decorations for the venue. i mentioned you and i was wondering if you're the one who could do it instead?” you bit your lip nervously, fumbling with the paperbag containing the bread as you looked up at him hopefully. 

seriously, how can he resist you looking at him that way? your eyelashes fluttering, mouth formed into a pout, eyes shining brightly. you're just asking him to devour you whole. before he knew it, he had leaned in to peck the corner of your mouth. 

it completely shocked you to your core. he hasn't done that kind of thing before, always being respectful and never doing anything you didn't want to. but strangely, you weren't mad at him for it. to tell the truth, you kinda wished he kissed you more. 

“i'd love to, y/n-chan.” he uttered, pinching your cheek before turning to hide his own reddened face. 

that was basically the last time you saw each other since you recommended him to your friend. and since then, he has been busy and you tried to help with the wedding as well. you figured oikawa has his hands full with taking care of the decorations for the wedding, but even then, he would still message you or even facetime you after – asking about how yiur day went and craving to see your face without him being able to for how long.

the day of the wedding came and it was magical. your heart melted the moment your friends said their “i do's” as everybody clapped and rejoiced with them. the moment you stepped into the venue, everyone was amazed, speechless at the decorations being the first thing their eyes could feast upon. pink and white roses was all you could see – ranging from vine-like ones hanging from the ceiling, to arches in the doorway, and some are even placed neatly on the tables. 

to sum it all, it was breathtaking.

“your boyfriend did amazing,” your friend teased, bumping her hip to yours as she walked away with her husband to greet some guests.

you were left standing there, mouth agape as you took everything in. you couldn't wrap your head around the idea of oikawa managing to do all this by himself, but then again, he has surprised you by doing a lot of things you didn't know he could do. 

“you know, if you stayed here longer there won't be enough food left for you.” the familiaf voice you grew to love and got used to spoke from behind you. something tugged in your chest, the events seeming like déjà vu all over again. 

“i'm just admiring your work, tooru.” you smiled, turning around to face the man behind the beautiful decorations. 

he's changed his clothes into a more formal attire than his usual getup with the aprons and white button up shirt for a maroon suit and tie. he even styled his hair back, if you didn't know him long enough you might have mistaken him for someone else. 

“you look...good,” you managed to breathe out, it seems like the decorations aren't the only ones that are breathtaking. your eyes drank him in, how the clothes hug his frame perfectly, the color complimenting his skin tone, and the fact that his fluffy hair is swept away really makes you want to jump his bones right here, right now.

“and you look gorgeous. i must say, i don't mind you looking like this all the time, y/n-chan.” he chuckled, a shit-eating grin blooming on his face as he eyed you up and down slowly. your face grew hot against his stare and you felt naked, as if his eyes can see through you. 

“th-thanks, tooru.” you mumbled, playing with the hem of your clothes. before any of you could speak, however, the emcee spoke on stage calling out the bride and groom to give a speech. 

you all gathered around the small stage as they thanked everyone for coming to the wedding, inclduing the guests, their helpers, the staff. after all the mushy speech, she declared it was time for the dance, turned around and threw the bouquet (that's also from oikawa) to the audience. 

you saw the thing flying to you and out of pure instinct, you threw your hand in front of you and ended up catching the bouquet. everyone around you clapped including oikawa himself as you stared at it wide eyed. your gazed met oikawa's and as if your face couldn't get any hotter, you also felt the fast beating of your heart when you stared at each other. 

everybody howled and chanted teasing remarks at the two of you. instead of paying attention to the newly weds they picked the two of you as the center of their amusement. 

your friend's voice overpowered them all as she also chanted, “kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!” 

oikawa looked at you with a raised brow and you can only smile bashfully in return before you felt the world turn upside down, oikawa dipping you as he kissed you passionately and deeply. time seemed to stop once again as everything blurred and all you can feel is him, and all he can feel is you. he hoped it would be enough to pour all the emotions and words he wanted you to know. 

it felt like the kiss lasted forever before he pulled away, the two of you out of breath as you giddily smiled at each other, both sharing a lovestruck look.

“is it too early to ask you to marry me?” 

general taglist: @chibishae34 @behan @bukojuiice (tagging you here bcs you're excited for this)

[jaeminscoffee]

6:45 PM

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader.

Genre- Angst, Fluff.

Word count- 1.91k

Warning- False accusation, Jeno seems a little thick headed but he was just caught up in the heat, mention of breaking up but not really :))

Summary- Not the ideal off day with your loved ones that you were looking for.

"You need to tell me what's wrong, Jeno."  you demand with a stern voice, having had enough of the way your boyfriend was acting. 

Earlier today Jaemin, a good friend of yours, a best friend of Jeno's had come over, reason being missing his two best hype mates and not getting much time to spend with you after having a hectic schedule. 

Jeno was fine the first two hours, interacting well, cracking stupid tacky jokes, sometimes even ganging up with Jaemin to make fun of you. But you noticed the gradual strip out of his patience, furrowing his eyebrows or gripping the pillow in a death grip. His subtle glares towards his friend was not given a blind eye, you noticed it all. Typical Jeno. He's always been a little jealous over your slightly curved affection for others. 

It was only when he did something he's never done throughout the years of one, your relationship, two Jaemins friendship that had you completely shocked. 

"I have nothing to tell you, Y/n" He replied with the same tone he held an hour ago after the guest left the house. You weren't going to buy his bullshit. 

"You screamed at Jaemin asking him to get out. Do you still have nothing to tell me?" you ask, walking up to where he sat by the edge of the bed. 

"I said i have nothing to tell you." Voice hoarse, the veins on his neck protruding prominently from how strained his jaws were. "Well you do." You spit out as soon as you stood in front of him, his gaze still fixated on the floor. 

"I. Don't." he repeated the words through gritted teeth. For a normal person, he'd be extremely intimidating and would've had the other weak in their knees from how threatening he sounded. Fights are normal for any couple but the last you'd heard him use this tone was when someone tried to touch you at a club you went to for the weekend.

"Then I do. Jaemin's your best friend for god's sake! He came in here, wanting to spend some quality time with us and he was an absolute sweetheart throughout even! And what do you do? Scream at him? For what? He seemed so hurt! What must he be thinking right no-!" 

"Enough!" Jeno stood up, towering over your much smaller figure with his as he narrowed his eyes down at you, nose flaring. You wouldn't be shocked if he started breathing out flames. 

You jump from the sudden raise of his voice, having to crane your neck to look up at him, hands shaking the slightest from the flinch you just experienced. 

"Jaemin this, Jaemin that. Who's your boyfriend, huh?" He started walking forward, almost stepping on your toes if you hadn't moved back, "Actually, he might as well be! You're always on about him and now you even want to go defend him" he poked at your right shoulder, pushing you back as you gaped at his words, completely taken aback by his assumption. 

"All i wanted was one fucking day to spend with you but nope! You want your dearest Jaemin with you. All the fucking time! Do you not love me anymore, Y/n?" Jeno let out an exhale, pushing you back with a single finger still on your shoulder, making you step back, "Jen-" "No you wanted me to tell you what's wrong right? Hear me out then!" 

"Is Jaemin all you think about, Y/n? Is that why you're getting so worked up over me shouting at my best friend?? Emphasize the word, my. My best friend, why is it affecting you? Huh?" He raised his voice once again, you turn your head to the side, crunching up the facials trying to make out why he's making this a big deal. It was his fault to begin with. 

"You want him that much then just go to him right! Or you want both of us because i won't be shocked at that, you're a sucker for anything remotely good looking anyways you won't hesitate to run your mouth all over town-!" Jeno stopped midway to completing his sentence, now noticing your glazed eyes and the heavy puffs of air you took. 

"are you done?" you ask with trembling voice, Jeno opened his mouth to speak but you held your hands up, stopping him, "If this is about Jaemin-" Jeno took in a sharp breathe, hands going from poking at your shoulder to holding your shoulder in a tight grip at the mention of his best friends name. Though the grip was bruising, you muster up all the strength you had, removing his hands from you, quickly stepping back to create some space between the two of you. 

"Then he's my friend too." you step back once again as Jeno stood his ground. "But if you heard yourself and actually think of me that way. You're more than welcome to just break things off." you grab the door knob as a tear slipped out, turning away to shield the weakness from your boyfriend who's head is stuck up his butt at the moment, and dashed out the room. 

"Y/n wait-" you hear him call out for you, footsteps shuffling close behind but you grabbed the car keys, wanting away from him to clear your mind the least. One of you should stay sane. 

Driving away to your safe space, the old library that took a journey of around 25 minutes, which is most likely to be 'anything living and breathing'-free as not many knew of that place, which made you love it even more. 

Whiffs of old bookcases are calming.

 You were pleased to find out your assumptions were correct, not a single soul other than a tired out cashier who seemed long passed out, given he failed to hear the ringing of the entrance opening. 

You make your way to the extreme back, not particularly wanting to read anything with your thoughts clouded, allowing yourself a seat you found at a secluded corner. 

You take your phone out, that had been vibrating since you left home after Jeno's sudden outburst, ignoring them, wanting him to feel bad for what he's done throughout the day, you scroll through your phone searching for Jaemin's contact, opening up messages to type in a quick apology for your boyfriend's behavior, explaining it must've been the the fatigue that got to him, but made sure to tell him not to wave off this behavior and screw him when they meet later. 

Getting a reply almost immediately, you were shocked to find out Jaemin was still as bubbly as ever, saying it's fine and that he didn't take anything to heart which just made you feel even guiltier than you already felt. 

Texting back and forth, Jaemin being more than ready to keep you company after you narrated what had happened back home, cracking jokes to make you feel better when you wantedly missed out on a few parts to tell him, you jolt when you feel a hand tear you away from the screen and the table in front of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

Warmth being familiar, you resist the urge to hug him back, not even bothering to ask him how he'd known where you'd be at as this is known to be the place you go to calm your mind, rather all those cliché places like the bridge or a cliff, or the beach, or taking a stroll in the twilight whatsoever. 

"Y/n I'm so so sorry, please don't run off like that again" he spoke, Jeno mimicked your voice from before, this time quivering with guilt. "Let go, Jen" you spoke with a voice void of all emotions, tables turning as you mirrored his voice from the time of the argument.

"No, I won't, I'm so sorry, I meant nothing of what I said! Trust me, I was just being unreasonable and petty, i would never want to let go of you. I'd be an idiot if i did so" he spoke against your hair, grip around you tight, yet delicate, soft enough for you to step out if you'd wished. 

"Yes you were." you reply, slowly raising your hands to feather over his elbows as he pressed you further against his chest, "I know. I'm really sorry, love. I was just jealous is all. And it had been a rough week at work and all that got to me but trust me when I say I'll do anything to repent just, please don't let my words get to you" he caressed your back. 

"Those were all words of spiked up anger, and i really want to throw myself off a cliff, I'm really sorry, i am" he pulled away enough to place a peck on your forehead. 

"you'll do anything?" you repeat his words for confirmation, finally allowing yourself to throw your hands around his torso. You look up at him, seeing a faint crimson at the white of his eye, the hue being really pale that you'd not make out if you stood a couple yards away. He must've shed some tears, just like you. 

"Anything." with a nod, he hesitantly placed a delicate kiss on your lips, scared you'd shatter if he'd pressed any harder. 

"house chores for a week." you narrow your eyes at him, not wanting to drag the fight for long as it'd only take a negative toll on your relationship. 

"Okay!" Jeno's face evidently lightened up, quick to think he's forgiven, "thank you for forgivin-"

"Don't be so sure on that, boy. You still have one thing left to do until I completely forgive you" you step back, turning to walk back towards the exit, fishing for the car keys from the back pocket of your jean, turning around and throwing the keys at him swiftly, his reflexes allow him to catch it. 

"You're driving to Jaemin's house and begging for an apology, right now." it was only the right thing to do even after the lad insisting on not being hurt. Jeno is his best friend, it's always sucky when you have your friend mad at you without knowing what you did. Worse if you didn't actually do anything. 

"You have it." Jeno exclaimed, walking towards you as the two of you made your way to the exit. "you're doing it the way i want you to, though", you turn your body towards him after both of you stood by the door of the passengers side. 

"And how do you want me to do it?" He inquired, leaning against the car. "First tell him exactly what you said to me" Jeno nodded, agreeing to do that, "Then give him a tight hug and repeat sorry until he swats you away" he contemplated for a moment, but eventually ended up agreeing to it too. "And then.. Give him a kiss on the cheek." Your boyfriend let out a sound of protest, leaning back further onto the surface. 

"Do i really have to??" he asked, whining. 

"Yes."

"Like, really? really?" 

"Mhm"

"for real? Real? Is it that important?" you let out a sigh at his constant poking at your side as he pushed further with the question. 

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" you ask, voice demanding, a hint of teasing evident. "Yes!" he was fast to reply. 

"Then give him a kiss. "

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought. 

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

~

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

~

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.