#i know my comments sound snarky but i say this without the sarcasm

[delightfullygiddy]

i appreciate working in retail a lot. Really because it is it's own microcosm of ecosystem that i can study from the inside. It's layers of the roles and social expectations and tasks really give m great ideas for crafting story environments. Also really gives me the best material in terms of a society that circulates itself on you having to leave,breathe, and eat of the insufferable positivity related to how you project the job to the customers.

[honeyhae-svt]

🎮 05 | Double Trouble-Maker 🎭

Part-Time Lover | JxW - masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: Mentions of parental loss and illness (reader’s backstory), light emotional angst and introspection, subtle romantic tension (love triangle elements), intimate moment (making out in a car), light teasing and subtle jealousy. wc: 10,347 ♪ playlist ♪: my love (lee hi), arcade (duncan laurence), almost is never enough (ariana grande) a/n: nothing to say. if the plot isnt plotting, then feel free to leave. no smut this chap sorry. i want to focus on their emotional conflict. enjoy tho !

05

You stayed quiet for too long, your jaw clenched and face burning red as you listened to Jeonghan and Wonwoo trade thinly veiled barbs at each other. The others didn't even bother hiding their reactions. Seungkwan was failing miserably to hold in his laughter, his muffled cackles loud enough to make your ears burn more. Hoshi, on the other hand, didn't even try—he was doubled over, howling like this was the best thing he'd seen all week. The rest of the group glanced at you occasionally, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

But it wasn't until that moment that you snapped.

Jeonghan had casually leaned in, slinging his arm over your shoulder as he delivered yet another snide comment, this time laced with an overly sweet tone.

"Remember that day, Wonwoo? Oh, wait, you wouldn't know. You weren't there, but she was."

Wonwoo's response was immediate, sharp, and dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, and I'm sure you didn't overcompensate at all, Hyung."

It was too much.

"That's it!" You shoved Jeonghan's arm off your shoulder and stood up so abruptly your chair screeched against the floor. Both men froze, eyes snapping to you as your voice cut through the room. Without another word, you turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind you.

The room was dead silent for half a second before Seungkwan leaned over, whispering loudly to Vernon, "I'm betting five thousand won (3.50 dollars ig) they both go after her."

Vernon smirked, crossing his arms. "Bet."

As if on cue, Jeonghan and Wonwoo moved at the same time, practically tripping over each other in their rush to follow you. The door swung shut behind them, leaving the group in a fit of laughter.

Outside, your hands were trembling as you fumbled with your phone, trying to text Seungkwan to tell him you were leaving early. But you couldn't even hit send. Your chest was tight with frustration, embarrassment, and a simmering anger you couldn't quite sort out. They'd been throwing intimate moments around like some kind of twisted inside joke—right in front of everyone.

You thought maybe, just maybe, they'd leave you alone after that.

You were wrong.

"Wait!" Jeonghan's voice was the first to cut through the sound of your hurried footsteps.

"Slow down," Wonwoo added, his tone quieter but equally persistent.

You didn't stop, didn't even look back. But their footsteps quickly caught up with yours.

"Y/N." Jeonghan's hand brushed your arm, but you yanked it away, spinning around to face them. Both men skidded to a halt, looking startled by the fire in your eyes.

"Do you ever stop?" you snapped, glaring between them. "I mean, do you two actually hear yourselves? You're embarrassing! You act like children—and for what? To see who can one-up the other? Congratulations, you both win. You made me look like a complete idiot back there."

They exchanged a glance, and for once, neither had a snarky comeback ready.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "Look, if you two are going to act like this, at least talk it out. I don't care what your problem is—just deal with it. But don't drag me into it."

Before either of them could reply, you jabbed a finger toward the nearest empty room. "In there. Now."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You're bossy when you're mad. It's kind of cute."

"Jeonghan, I swear to God—"

"Fine, fine," he cut in, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "We'll talk."

As soon as you left for them to talk, the room plunged into silence, the weight of unspoken words settling like a heavy cloud.

Jeonghan was the first to break it, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning on, his expression sharp but amused. "Well," he started, his voice cutting through the quiet, "that went well."

Wonwoo didn't bother responding at first, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. The tension between them was palpable, and Jeonghan wasn't one to let things simmer for long.

"So," Jeonghan continued, his tone casual, but his words edged with purpose. "Let me guess—you've got a thing for her, huh?"

Wonwoo's scoff was immediate, though his grip on his hoodie tightened. "That's rich coming from you," he shot back, his voice low but biting.

Jeonghan smirked, tilting his head. "What can I say? She's... captivating. You don't meet someone like her every day."

Wonwoo's glare could've burned a hole through him. "Stop talking about her like she's some shiny new toy you're trying to claim."

Jeonghan's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. "And what about you? You've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room since this tournament started. You're not exactly subtle, Wonwoo."

Wonwoo opened his mouth to snap back, but Jeonghan wasn't done. "Let's cut the crap," he said, his tone turning serious. "This isn't about me versus you. It's about her. And you're the one acting like you don't know what you want."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Wonwoo looked like he might lash out. But instead, his jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Maybe it is about her," he admitted, his voice quiet. "But that doesn't mean I trust you."

Jeonghan's expression softened, though the sharpness in his eyes remained. "I'm not asking you to trust me," he said evenly. "I'm asking if you're ready to be honest about how you feel. Because if you're not..." He let the sentence trail off, shrugging lightly before adding, "...then don't blame me for stepping in."

Wonwoo's fists clenched at his sides, his silence heavy with conflict. Finally, he muttered, "I don't want to hurt her."

Jeonghan's demeanor shifted, his usual cockiness giving way to something more genuine. "Neither do I," he said quietly. "But maybe we should stop pretending this is about her feelings, and start being honest about ours."

The silence that followed was deafening, neither man willing to look the other in the eye.

And for the first time, it wasn't clear who was going to walk away first—or if either of them would at all.

You sat on the bench outside the venue, fiddling with the straps of your bag, trying to calm the swirl of frustration, embarrassment, and confusion in your head. Jeonghan and Wonwoo? Together in one room? Talking things out? It felt like a fever dream.

Still, as you glanced back toward the building, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe—just maybe—they were finally clearing the air and dealing with whatever macho competition had been brewing between them.

You imagined them sharing grudging apologies, hashing out their differences, maybe even shaking hands. You chuckled to yourself at the thought of Jeonghan being earnest for once and Wonwoo dropping his stoic, sarcastic walls. Yeah, right.

Little did you know, what was happening inside was... entirely different. You guessed.

Jeonghan leaned against the wall, watching as Wonwoo paced back and forth like a man on a mission. "You're awfully restless for someone who claims to have things under control," Jeonghan quipped, his smirk returning.

Wonwoo shot him a look, but it lacked his usual bite. "You're not exactly calm either. You've been throwing out every lame joke you can to avoid talking seriously."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. "Maybe because talking seriously isn't exactly my thing. But hey, you're the one who dragged me into this 'let's talk' moment."

Wonwoo stopped pacing, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he snapped. "I'll say it." He hesitated, then finally blurted out, "She's amazing, okay? She's smart, funny, infuriatingly stubborn, and—and—"

"Ridiculously hot?" Jeonghan finished for him, his tone so casual that Wonwoo nearly threw something at him.

"Will you stop? I'm being serious."

"And I'm agreeing with you. Have you seen her? Of course she's all those things."

Wonwoo groaned, sitting down and burying his face in his hands. "This is pointless. We're not solving anything."

Jeonghan shrugged. "What's there to solve? We both like her. That's obvious."

"Yeah, but it's not like she's picking sides," Wonwoo muttered.

Jeonghan's grin turned sly. "Or maybe she's just waiting for us to make the first move."

Wonwoo glared at him. "You're impossible."

Jeonghan tilted his head, a flicker of something more genuine crossing his face. "You know, for what it's worth... I don't want to screw this up for her. I don't think you do either."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "Yeah. But that doesn't mean I'm backing down."

Jeonghan chuckled. "Didn't expect you to." He held out a hand. "Truce?"

Wonwoo eyed the hand suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Jeonghan said, his smirk returning. "I just think we owe it to her not to make this more complicated than it already is. At least for now."

After a moment, Wonwoo took the hand, shaking it firmly. "Fine. Truce."

You glanced up as the door to the venue opened. Jeonghan and Wonwoo stepped out, walking side by side—together.

Your eyes widened. "Wait... are you two... good now?" you asked hesitantly.

Jeonghan flashed you his signature grin. "Of course! We had a nice little heart-to-heart."

Wonwoo nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. We talked it out."

For a moment, relief flooded you. "Oh, thank god. I thought you two were going to kill each other."

Jeonghan slung an arm around Wonwoo's shoulders, his grin widening. "Nah, we've got bigger things to focus on."

Wonwoo shot him a warning look, but Jeonghan just winked at you.

You frowned, sensing something was off. "Wait... what exactly did you guys talk about?"

"Oh, nothing," Jeonghan said breezily, stepping ahead toward the parking lot. "Just priorities."

"Yeah," Wonwoo added, walking past you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Important stuff."

You stood there, dumbfounded, as they both walked off, their casual banter already picking up again.

Priorities? Important stuff?

You didn't realize it, but the two men had left that room with one unspoken agreement: they weren't just rivals anymore. They were rivals with one very specific goal.

You.

You exhaled deeply as you settled into your gaming chair, finally back home. After today's debacle, you needed a distraction. Firing up your streaming setup, you set up a Valorant session for your followers—nothing too serious, just some casual games to blow off steam.

The familiar rush of excitement hit as your viewers flooded into the stream chat. Messages rolled in:

- "omg you're streaming finally!!!" - "Who won the LoL tournament?!! spill tea pls queen" - "bestie u look kinda stressed what happened?? 👀"

You chuckled, ignoring the questions. "Hey, guys! Let's keep it chill today, okay? Just gonna play some Valorant. No, I'm not spilling any tea!" You winked at the camera, though your mind briefly wandered back to Wonwoo and Jeonghan.

Then the notifications hit. Two new players joined your party.

jeonghaniyoo_n has joined the party everyone_woo has joined the party

You froze. "Oh, no."

And just like that, Jeonghan's voice chimed in through the lobby chat. "Hi there, cutie. Streaming without us? That's not very nice."

Wonwoo's quieter but sharp voice followed. "Didn't think you'd leave us out of the fun."

Your viewers exploded in the chat:

- "wait JEONGHAN AND WONWOO ARE HERE??!!!" - "no way this is the dream team 🔥" - "omg flirting on main i cant handle this"

You rolled your eyes. "Guys, please. Let's just play the game."

But before the match could start, the party grew. Minghao, Hoshi, and Seungkwan joined in one after the other, their voices filling the lobby with chaos.

"Yah, why didn't you invite us too?!" Hoshi whined.

Minghao snickered. "I saw Jeonghan and Wonwoo join and figured I'd save kitsunya from... whatever this is."

Seungkwan? Already cackling. "This is gonna be good. Everyone ready to carry these two clowns?"

The first round started smoothly—almost.

Jeonghan immediately locked in Jett, while Wonwoo chose Omen, both vying for attention as soon as the game began.

Jeonghan: "Kitsu, I'll be your duelist today. Stay behind me; I'll protect you." Wonwoo: "Or you could stay with me. I'll make sure you don't get flanked."

You rolled your eyes. "You guys do realize we're playing Valorant, right? Not some cheesy shit?"

Seungkwan, from across the map: "Kitsunya, please, just mute them. I'm begging you."

But the chaos only grew.

In one round, you got caught in a crossfire because Jeonghan and Wonwoo were too busy arguing over whose callout you should follow.

"Kitsunya, go A!" Jeonghan shouted. "No, B is safer!" Wonwoo countered. And you? Dead in the middle of the map.

"Dude, I'm literally streaming," you groaned, your viewers spamming laughing emojis in the chat.

By the third match, Jeonghan and Wonwoo weren't even subtle anymore.

Jeonghan: "Kitsunya, did I ever tell you your crosshair placement is just... perfect?" Wonwoo: "She doesn't need compliments. She just needs someone to watch her back—unlike some people who keep peeking mid for no reason."

Jeonghan: "You jealous, Wonwoo?" Wonwoo: "Only of how bad your aim is."

Minghao sighed audibly. "I don't think I've ever played a game this exhausting."

Hoshi laughed, clutching his sides. "Oh, come on! This is comedy gold!"

Seungkwan? Already losing it. "Kitsunya, I'm watching your chat. They're saying you've got two idiots fighting over you while the rest of us are hard-carrying."

Sure enough, the chat was in flames:

- "JEONGHAN STOP FLIRTING OMG" - "wonwoo is a SIMP confirmed" - "pls these boys need to chill lmaooo" - "team chaos for the win ✨"

After a particularly close match where Minghao clutched the win (while the rest of you spectated), you muted the mic for a second and turned to address the camera.

"Guys, I don't even know what to say anymore. Is this my life now?"

Of course, Jeonghan overheard and chimed back in. "Why? Don't you like the attention?"

Wonwoo snorted. "I think she's had enough of your attention."

You muted them again, the chat exploding as you facepalmed.

- "HELP she muted them both LMAO" - "you deserve better bestie" - "team minghao carrying this team, no competition"

Finally, you sighed and looked at the camera. "I think I need new teammates."

The room erupted into laughter again, and for once, you couldn't help but laugh along. At least the chaos made for good content—even if Jeonghan and Wonwoo didn't realize just how obvious they were being. They were being such idiots.

You woke up with a groan, your phone buzzing on the nightstand like it was trying to break the sound barrier. You weren't in the mood to deal with whatever the hell was going on online, so you silenced it and dragged your ass out of bed. After a long stretch, you shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing your go-to coffee mug, already mentally preparing for the shitshow ahead.

You sat down with your cup, eyes half-lidded, but something told you this wasn't going to be a peaceful morning. You grabbed your phone again, but this time, you actually opened it.

Big. Fucking. Mistake.

The stream from last night was everywhere—TikToks, memes on X, clips making the rounds like wildfire. There you were, caught in the middle of Jeonghan's flirtatious nonsense and Wonwoo's unimpressed deadpan. Fans were shipping the hell out of you, writing captions like "Who's gonna win her heart? 🥽" and "Not them fighting like she's the last healing potion in Valorant."

You clicked your tongue, scrolling through the flood of messages and tags. #StreamerLoveTriangle. #JeonghanFlirtsAgain. #ProtectWonwoo. Your inbox was a warzone of comments, DMs, and donations from people who just wanted more of "the chaos trio."

You weren't sure whether to laugh or scream. On one hand, this was kinda flattering, but on the other, your stomach churned. You had built this stream to be about you—not some messy love triangle. You were a goddamn boss in this space, not a walking rom-com plot.

The moment you opened your group chat, you could already hear Seungkwan's annoying voice in your head.

[#important stuffs-general] pledis_boos: 🤣 Did you SEE the donations rolling in last night? We're buying sushi next time and YOU'RE paying. ho5hi_kwon: Nah, you're buying us all steak. I saw those superchats. Some guy sent $500 to "push Jeonghan into the friendzone." kitsunya: im not buying you shitheads anything. especially you, hoshi the brainrot king xu_minghao_o: Capitalism at its finest. Also, @/Jeonghan, tone it down next time. She's going to start charging you for emotional labor. jeonghaniyoo_n: I'm a natural entertainer. Don't hate me because I'm charming. everyone_woo: Can you all stfu? This server is literally labelled only for important stuff. min9yu_k: Dont act like Kitsunya's not important to you, hyung

You let out an exaggerated sigh, sinking deeper into the couch. You needed a minute, and by "minute," you meant the next several hours of avoiding this shitshow.

The donations were off the charts, though. More money than you'd ever seen in your entire life—700,000 won (500 dollars) to push Jeonghan into the friend zone? That's almost worth the emotional labor, right?

Still, the situation left a bad taste in your mouth. You weren't some spectacle to be gawked at. You didn't ask for this attention, and you certainly didn't want to be anyone's entertainment. But damn, it was hard to ignore the fact that you'd made more money in a single night than you usually did in a whole week of streams.

You tossed your phone on the couch, leaning back with a dramatic groan. You were so done with this today.

But, of course, you knew you'd have to go live again sooner or later. And, hell, it was kind of fun watching Jeonghan squirm.

Later that evening, after the chaos of the stream finally died down, you were sitting on the edge of your couch, your mind racing. You hadn't replied to anyone—your friends' group chat, the millions of tags, or even the flood of donations. You couldn't stomach it. The lines between your private and public life were being erased faster than you could keep up, and you hated it.

You needed to talk to Jeonghan and Wonwoo—really talk to them. You weren't some character they could use for entertainment just to rack up donations. It was getting out of hand, and you weren't going to let them keep pushing your boundaries.

So you called them both into your apartment.

When they arrived, you didn't sugarcoat a damn thing. You crossed your arms, giving them both your best death glare.

"So," you said, your voice sharp, "the stream went great, right?"

Jeonghan's usual grin was nowhere to be found. He shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, but we didn't mean to—"

You cut him off, not giving an inch. "Great? It was a circus, Jeonghan. You and Wonwoo acting like I'm some kind of prize to be won? You think that's funny?"

The tension in the room thickened. Jeonghan opened his mouth, but no words came out. Wonwoo stood there, his usual calm expression replaced by something a little more serious.

"You both think this is just content—and sure, the donations are insane, but at what cost?" You took a step closer, your voice unwavering. "My privacy? My sanity? You two bickering over me like I'm some damn reality show prize? That's not cute. Not to me."

Jeonghan's posture relaxed slightly, and his eyes softened. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to cross any lines. I just... we got caught up in the moment."

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "Caught up in the moment? You're pushing my limits for donations, and you don't even realize it."

Wonwoo finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "We didn't mean for it to go this far. But we both... we're drawn to you. It's not just about the stream."

The words hit you harder than you expected. You blinked, thrown off balance by the honesty in his voice. "Seriously? Just because you're 'drawn' to me doesn't mean you can act like this. You think I want my whole life to be some circus show? I'm not here to entertain you."

Jeonghan stepped forward, no longer his usual cocky self. "It's not a game to me. I like you. But I respect your boundaries. We just... we got carried away. The donations, the attention... it got to our heads." His eyes searched yours, sincerity now replacing his teasing. "But I'm not here to push you into anything you don't want."

Your breath caught in your throat. The shift was sudden, and it left you feeling off-kilter. Jeonghan, the same guy who had been teasing you relentlessly, now stood there, his expression serious.

You turned to Wonwoo, whose quiet demeanor now seemed almost withdrawn. "And you," you continued, your voice softening but still firm. "I'm not your damn 'perfect match' just because you think I'm different. This is real life, not some idealized fantasy."

Wonwoo exhaled, rubbing his temple like he was trying to make sense of everything. "I get it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to make things feel like that. I was... I just didn't want to miss my chance.

You let out a long breath, still frustrated but oddly relieved at the same time. "This isn't about missing your chance, or trying to win me over. It's about being real with each other. You two want to make this work? Fine. But it's going to take more than flirting in front of a camera."

Jeonghan took a step closer, his eyes soft but serious. "I'm willing to do that. For you. I'm sorry for making it seem like this was all just for the fun of it. It's not."

"I don't know if I believe you," you muttered, your arms still crossed. "You can't just act like this one day and pull back when it suits you."

Wonwoo stepped closer, his gaze softening as he spoke. "We won't. But we can't ignore what's between us, either. It's just you. You're not like anyone else we know. That's why it's hard to stop."

The vulnerability in his voice was unexpected, and for a moment, you felt the weight of his words. "So what, you two think this is all about me?" You threw your hands up in frustration. "I'm not some fucking character for your streams. If we're going to do this, we need boundaries. I don't care how much money's involved. My private life isn't content for your views. Got it?"

They both nodded, the reality of your words sinking in. Jeonghan looked at you, a bit hesitant but resolute. "Got it. We won't push you like that again. But we still want to be here... with you."

Wonwoo met your gaze, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "We'll figure this out. Slowly. No more games."

You didn't reply immediately, letting the moment hang between you. Maybe it wasn't perfect. Hell, maybe it never would be. But for now, it felt like a start.

You took a deep breath, letting the words spill out before you could second-guess yourself.

"Lust or sex isn't love, you know."

The room felt heavy with tension after your last words. Jeonghan and Wonwoo stood there, their usual confidence replaced with an unsettling quiet. You could almost feel their thoughts running a mile a minute, but you were too fed up to care about their reactions right now.

"I don't care if you two think you're 'drawn to me,'" you said, cutting through the silence. "Lust, attraction, whatever the hell you want to call it—it's not love. And you need to get that straight."

Jeonghan looked like you'd just slapped him, his mouth opening and closing like he didn't know what to say. Wonwoo, on the other hand, was completely still. His usual deadpan expression didn't change, but you could tell you'd hit a nerve.

You took a step forward, looking each of them in the eye. "What you've been doing, this whole game of who can get a rise out of me, it's not funny. And sure, the donations are great, but what does it cost? My privacy? My boundaries? I'm not some prize for you both to fight over. If you're thinking it's some kind of competition—"

You paused, trying to find the right words without making it feel too dramatic.

"It's not," you finished, your voice steady. "If you two really want something real, then we need to be clear. I'm not interested in playing games. I'm not going to sit here while you both try to one-up each other in front of a stream. It's messy, and frankly, it's getting old."

There was a long silence as both of them took in your words. You could almost see them processing it, like they were trying to figure out how they'd gotten it so wrong.

Finally, Jeonghan spoke, his tone softer than usual. "I get what you're saying. I wasn't thinking about it that way. I just... I don't know. I thought it was all just part of the fun."

You shook your head, trying not to roll your eyes. "This is not fun, Jeonghan. And I don't need you two acting like you're competing for me. If that's what you want, I'm out. It's not worth it."

Wonwoo, who'd been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, his voice low. "You're right. I didn't want to make you feel like that. I don't think of you like that—like some kind of game to win. But I guess I got caught up in it too."

You exhaled, not feeling as angry anymore, but still frustrated. "It's not just about being 'caught up'—it's about respect. I don't want to feel like I'm just part of the stream, or like I'm some character you're both fighting over to make things more interesting. I'm me. And if you both want anything more than this weird back-and-forth, you need to respect that."

Jeonghan's eyes softened, and you could see he was taking this seriously now. "You're right," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that."

Wonwoo's gaze was steady as he nodded. "Me neither. I was just... I don't know. But I get it now."

You stared at them for a moment, trying to gauge whether they were just saying what you wanted to hear or if they actually understood. It was hard to tell. But the shift in their demeanor made you think they weren't just brushing you off this time.

"I'm not asking for you to choose me or whatever," you added, your voice a little more relaxed. "But if we're going to be in each other's lives—really in each other's lives—this mess? It stops now."

There was a pause before Jeonghan finally broke it with a light, almost sheepish smile. "No more games, then. I'll keep that in mind."

Wonwoo let out a small breath, his usual reserved demeanor softening. "I'll be more careful."

You could tell they weren't exactly thrilled, but they were starting to see things from your side. And that was good enough for now.

The next morning, the bright glow of your monitor was replaced by the sterile glare of fluorescent office lights. You glanced at Jeonghan, who was a few steps ahead, already adjusting his tie as the two of you stepped into the lobby of the Yoon Corporation building. It was almost comical, seeing the same man who had bantered his way through last night's chaotic stream now radiating an air of professional detachment.

You, on the other hand, had swapped out your usual casual wear for a tailored blazer, heels that were already killing your feet, and an iced coffee that you'd clung to like a lifeline on the commute.

"Do you ever miss it?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence as the elevator doors closed behind you.

"Miss what?" Jeonghan didn't look up from his phone, already skimming emails before the day had even started.

"The gaming world," you said, leaning against the mirrored wall of the elevator. "You know, when the most stressful thing you had to deal with was a toxic teammate or a bad internet connection."

That earned you a faint smirk. "You mean back when I could sleep in past seven and didn't have shareholders breathing down my neck? Can't say I don't miss it sometimes."

His words were light, but there was an edge to them that you didn't miss.

"Must be weird," you mused. "You go from carrying teammates in games to carrying an entire company."

Jeonghan finally looked up, his smile sharp and teasing. "Are you saying I carried you last night? Because I distinctly remember you being the one who couldn't land a headshot."

"Okay, first of all," you shot back, jabbing a finger at him, "I was carrying the content, thank you very much. No one was watching for your kill streaks—they were watching for my sass."

"True," he admitted, his grin widening. "But I still got MVP."

Before you could fire back, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the pristine, glass-lined halls of the executive floor. The playful energy between you fizzled out almost instantly, replaced by the weight of professionalism. Jeonghan straightened his posture, tucking his phone away as he strode forward like he owned the place. Technically, he did.

You followed closely, the sound of your heels clicking against the marble floors reminding you that this world—his world—was a far cry from the chaos of your streams.

As you entered his office, Jeonghan pulled out a chair for you at the meeting table, his playful smirk replaced by the faintest trace of a frown. "You've got notes on the marketing proposal, right?"

"Yeah," you said, placing your laptop on the table and flipping it open. "It's solid, but I think the ad campaign could use more focus. The messaging is all over the place."

He nodded, sitting down across from you. "Good. Rip it apart in the meeting later. They need to hear it."

For a while, the two of you worked in silence, the sound of typing and the shuffle of papers filling the room. But as you glanced at Jeonghan—his brows furrowed in concentration, his tie slightly askew—you couldn't help but feel the weight of the contrast between the two versions of him. The playful streamer who cracked jokes and flirted shamelessly, and the overworked executive who carried his family's legacy on his shoulders.

"Hey," you said quietly, breaking the silence. "If you ever want to...you know, talk about it. The whole balancing-two-worlds thing. I'm here."

Jeonghan looked up, his expression unreadable for a moment before softening. "Thanks," he said, his voice sincere. "But for now, let's just survive this meeting."

It was late—too late for anyone but the cleaning crew to still be in the office. Yet here you were, leaning against the doorframe of Jeonghan's ridiculously large office, staring at him while he sat slumped over his desk. He didn't even notice you at first, his hair falling messily into his face as he glared at the papers spread out in front of him.

You cleared your throat. "You do know that no one will care if you file those tomorrow, right?"

Jeonghan flinched, startled out of his trance. He looked up at you with tired eyes that lacked their usual mischievous glint. "What are you still doing here?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

"I could ask you the same thing," you shot back, stepping further into the room. "You've been here since morning, Jeonghan. You're going to burn out if you keep this up."

He gave you a half-hearted chuckle, leaning back in his chair. "What, worried about me now?"

You folded your arms, narrowing your eyes. "I am when you look like you've aged ten years overnight. Spill it—what's going on?"

For a moment, you thought he'd brush you off with a joke like he always did. But to your surprise, he sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. "It's nothing, really. Just...family stuff. Work stuff. You know how it is."

"Yeah, no," you said, pulling up a chair and sitting across from him. "That vague crap doesn't work on me. Try again."

He hesitated, his fingers drumming against the desk as he avoided your gaze. "I didn't want to be here," he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "In business, I mean. This wasn't the plan. Not for me."

You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. "Then why—"

"My family," he cut in, his tone sharper now. "This company isn't just a company to them—it's a legacy. Something my father and grandfather built from the ground up. And as the only son, I'm the one who has to carry it forward. No matter what I wanted."

The weight in his words settled heavily in the room, and for once, you didn't know what to say. Jeonghan—the guy who made everything seem easy, who always had a snarky comeback or a teasing smile—looked utterly defeated.

"I didn't want to leave gaming," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "That world, those friends...they were mine. I was good at it, too. Better than good. But none of that mattered when my dad got sick. I had to step up, whether I liked it or not."

You leaned forward, resting your arms on the desk. "And now you're stuck here, running a company you never wanted to run?"

He laughed bitterly. "Pretty much. Don't get me wrong—it's not like I hate it. I've gotten used to it, I guess. But some days...I just wonder what it would've been like if I'd said no. If I'd been selfish."

For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the city outside. Then you reached out, hesitating only slightly before placing a hand over his. "You're not selfish, Jeonghan. Far from it. You gave up something you loved for the people you care about. That's not weakness—that's strength."

He looked up at you then, his eyes searching your face. "Sometimes, I wish I had your courage. You don't let anyone push you around, not me, not Wonwoo, not the internet. You know who you are."

You snorted. "Yeah, well, it's easier when you don't have a billion-dollar company breathing down your neck."

His lips quirked into a faint smile, the first genuine one you'd seen all day. "Still. I envy it."

You sat back, giving him space to collect himself. "For what it's worth, you're doing a damn good job, Jeonghan. Even if you didn't choose this, you're still making it work. And that says a lot."

The room fell quiet again, but this time it wasn't heavy. It was the kind of quiet that settled between two people who understood each other in a way they hadn't before.

"Thanks," he murmured after a while, his voice softer now. "For staying. For listening."

"Don't mention it," you said, standing up and stretching. "But seriously, go home. You're no good to anyone if you keel over from exhaustion."

He chuckled, the sound lightening the air. "Yes, boss."

The car ride to your mother's house had been quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional directions you mumbled. Jeonghan didn't mind the silence; in fact, it gave him a rare moment to reflect. His mind kept wandering back to earlier, to the ease with which he'd talked about himself—about his family, his regrets, the suffocating weight of being the "perfect heir."

He hated talking about that stuff. With anyone else, he'd brush it off with a charming laugh or a clever deflection. But with you? All it took was one offhanded question, and suddenly, he was spilling years' worth of baggage like it was the most natural thing in the world. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were scrolling through your phone, utterly unaware of the storm you'd left behind in his head.

When the car rolled to a stop in front of your mother's house, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, but paused when you noticed him watching you.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jeonghan hesitated. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so he settled for his usual fallback—a smirk. "Nothing. Just wondering if you're secretly a therapist in disguise. You've got this way of making people talk."

You snorted. "If I were a therapist, I'd be charging you for the emotional labor."

"Touché," he said, but his tone was softer, more thoughtful. "Seriously, though... thanks. For earlier. I don't usually talk about that kind of stuff."

"Noted," you said, stepping out of the car. "I'll make sure to grill you harder next time."

He laughed, leaning back in his seat as he watched you walk up the driveway. You were halfway to the door when you turned around and gave him a little wave. "Drive safe, okay?"

Jeonghan blinked, caught off guard by the warmth in your voice. It wasn't the first time you'd said something so simple, yet it hit differently tonight. Like you actually meant it. Like you actually cared.

As you disappeared inside, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as a strange, unfamiliar feeling settled in his chest.

He was falling for you. Hard. And it scared the hell out of him.

How did you do it? How did you manage to get the words out of his mouth, the truths he kept locked away from everyone else? You hadn't even been trying, and yet, he'd surrendered so easily. The thought alone made his head spin.

Shaking his head, Jeonghan put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across his face. He didn't want to think about it, not now. But no matter how hard he tried to push the thought aside, one thing was painfully clear.

He was in trouble.

After settling in at your mother's house, you found yourself in the kitchen, helping her prep for dinner. She hummed softly to an old ballad playing on the radio while you chopped vegetables, the steady rhythm of the knife oddly therapeutic. It felt good to be home—grounding, even. Here, there were no streams, no trending hashtags, no chaos. Just the scent of your mother's cooking and the warm, familiar creak of the wooden floor beneath your feet.

"You've been busy, haven't you?" your mom asked, glancing at you with a knowing smile.

"Something like that," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "Work's been... hectic."

"Hectic is good, though, right? It means you're doing well."

You nodded, though the weight of Jeonghan's confession earlier still lingered in the back of your mind. Before you could dwell on it too much, your phone buzzed on the counter. You wiped your hands on a towel and picked it up, frowning at the caller ID.

Wonwoo.

Your mom raised an eyebrow. "Work?"

"Kind of," you muttered, stepping out of the kitchen to take the call. "What's up?"

"Hey," he greeted, his voice unexpectedly light, though you could hear a hint of something else in his tone. "You free tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night? Yeah, I guess. What's up?"

"I... wanted to talk to you about something. It's nothing serious, but it's been on my mind for a while now." He sounded like he was hesitating, but you didn't think much of it.

"Okay? You could just tell me now," you teased, sitting up a little straighter on the couch.

Wonwoo chuckled, but it was low and almost nervous. "Nah, I think it's better if we talk about it in person."

You raised an eyebrow. "Alright, fine. You're being weird about this, but sure, let me know when and where."

"I'll pick you up around 7, and we'll head out," he said, before adding in a more casual tone, "Trust me, you'll like it."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips anyway. "Okay, okay. I'm intrigued. See you then."

As you ended the call and walked back to the kitchen, your mom gave you a curious look. "Boyfriend trouble?"

"God, no," you said, laughing a little too loudly. "He's just... a friend. A very particular friend."

"Hm," your mom said, clearly unconvinced but smart enough not to push it further. She handed you a bowl of chopped onions and said, "Whoever he is, he seems to care about you."

You froze for a moment, her words echoing in your head. Shaking it off, you took the bowl and returned to your task. "Let's not get carried away, okay? He just called cause he wanted to talk about something."

But even as you said it, you couldn't shake the faint tug of something more complicated—something you weren't ready to confront yet.

As you finished chopping the onions, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the phone call. "A very particular friend," you muttered under your breath, barely suppressing a smile. It was weird how much truth there was in that. You knew exactly what your mom meant, but you weren't ready to acknowledge it—at least not out loud. The last thing you needed was to have a conversation about feelings. You didn't even know what you felt, anyway.

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was a text from Wonwoo: "Hey, don't eat too much tonight. I've got something special planned for tomorrow."

You frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" you muttered, reading it over again. You stared at your phone, a little more confused than before. This wasn't like Wonwoo.

You glanced at your mom, who had a knowing smile on her face as she busied herself with the stove. "You okay?" she asked, not looking up.

"Yeah," you said quickly, though your voice was slightly off. "Just... a little strange, that's all."

"Mmhm," she hummed, clearly not fooled. "You've got a big night tomorrow. Try not to overthink it."

You rolled your eyes. "I'll try."

But as you wiped your hands on the dish towel, you couldn't help but feel that familiar flutter in your chest. Tomorrow wasn't just another night. You had no idea what Wonwoo had planned, but somehow, you knew it was going to change everything.

Work had been surprisingly productive for once—no emergencies, no last-minute crises, just a steady flow of emails and meetings that didn't make you want to pull your hair out. By the time 5:45 rolled around, you were already packing up your things, eager to leave on time for once.

Jeonghan walked into your office just as you slung your bag over your shoulder. His sharp suit jacket was draped over one arm, and his tie was slightly loosened, giving him that effortless, annoyingly attractive look that made people do double takes. He raised an eyebrow. "Leaving early? That's new."

"First time for everything," you replied, brushing past him toward the door.

Jeonghan followed, falling into step beside you. "Big plans?"

"Not really," you said casually, even though you were mentally prepping for whatever mysterious thing Wonwoo had planned. "Just... meeting a friend."

Jeonghan hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Friend? As in, Wonwoo?"

You stopped walking, turning to face him. "How do you know that?"

He shrugged, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant. "Lucky guess. Besides, he doesn't exactly hide the fact that he likes dragging you around."

"It's nothing," you said, feeling oddly defensive. "He just wanted to talk about something."

Jeonghan tilted his head, studying you in that way that always made you feel like he could see straight through you. "At six in the evening? Dressed like that?" His gaze flicked down to your outfit—a simple yet flattering blouse and jeans combo that you'd definitely spent more time picking out than you'd admit.

Your eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said, holding up his hands innocently. "Just... seems a little formal for 'talking about something.'"

You let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not a date, Jeonghan."

"Sure," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he was fighting back a smirk. "Whatever you say."

You started walking again, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. But of course, Jeonghan wasn't done. He fell back into step beside you, his voice annoyingly casual. "You know, if it was a date, you could just admit it. It's not like I care."

That made you stop again, spinning around to face him. "I just said it's not a date."

Jeonghan raised his hands again, his smirk fully forming this time. "Relax. I believe you."

"No, you don't."

He grinned, the kind of grin that made you want to smack it off his face. "You're right. I don't."

You rolled your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a retort, and stormed off toward the elevator. Jeonghan watched you go, his smirk fading into something softer as he muttered under his breath, "I really don't."

The next day, you were halfway through touching up your makeup when Wonwoo texted: "Outside."

With a final glance at your reflection, you grabbed your bag and headed out. Wonwoo was leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone, but when he looked up and saw you, he froze. For a second, you thought something was wrong—until you caught the faintest flicker of surprise on his face.

"You okay?" you asked, tilting your head.

Wonwoo blinked, clearing his throat. "Uh, yeah. You look..." He hesitated, his hand reaching for the car door handle. "...nice."

You raised a brow, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. "Wow, such a charmer. Are you always this smooth?"

"Only with very particular friends," he shot back, his lips quirking into a rare smile.

The drive to the restaurant was comfortable—light banter here, a shared laugh there. It wasn't until you arrived, stepping into the upscale restaurant with dim lighting and chandeliers, that it hit you.

"Wait." You turned to him, eyes narrowing. "This is not a casual hangout."

Wonwoo shrugged, clearly amused. "I never said it was."

"You didn't say it wasn't either!" you hissed, suddenly hyperaware of how underdressed—you felt.

"It's just dinner," he said calmly, guiding you toward your table. "Relax."

As you sat across from him, the tension in your chest eased a little. The atmosphere was warm, inviting, and the smell of food made your stomach growl. The two of you settled into conversation, talking about everything from the latest games to the ridiculous memes your viewers had been sending.

It wasn't until halfway through the meal, between bites of perfectly seared steak, that the conversation took a softer turn.

"So," you said, wiping your mouth with a napkin. "What's with all the mystery? Why'd you drag me out here like this?"

Wonwoo looked up from his plate, his gaze steady but thoughtful. "I wanted to talk to you about something," he admitted, his voice low enough to make you lean in slightly.

"Okay...?" You tilted your head, waiting.

He hesitated for a moment, his fork idly poking at a piece of asparagus. "Have you ever felt like... you're not cut out for something, even if everyone else thinks you are?"

The question caught you off guard. Wonwoo wasn't the type to talk about his feelings—not openly, anyway. You put your fork down, sensing this was something important. "What do you mean?"

He exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "The streams. The attention. It's... a lot sometimes. I like gaming. I like hanging out with you guys. But the rest of it? The constant eyes on me? The comments, the pressure to be entertaining all the time... I'm not sure it's for me."

You frowned, the weight of his words sinking in. "Wonwoo..."

"I'm not saying I'm quitting," he added quickly, sensing your concern. "But I've been thinking about stepping back. Maybe doing less. I don't know."

The air between you grew quiet for a moment, not awkward but contemplative.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" you asked gently. "You know you don't have to keep this all to yourself, right?"

He gave you a small, wry smile. "I guess I didn't want to burden anyone. And I thought I could handle it."

"Newsflash, genius," you said, pointing your fork at him. "You're allowed to have limits. You're not a robot."

His lips quirked up again, this time softer. "I guess you're right."

"I'm always right," you said smugly, earning a quiet laugh from him. "But seriously, if you need space or whatever, just say the word. We'll figure it out."

"Thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean it."

The moment lingered, a quiet understanding passing between you. For a second, you wondered if this was what your mom meant last night—about someone who cared. But you shook the thought away, unwilling to overthink it.

"Well," you said, breaking the silence. "If this is your way of buttering me up to cover for you on stream, you owe me another meal. And dessert. I'm talking cheesecake."

Wonwoo laughed, the sound low and genuine. "Deal."

The cheerful noise of the arcade filled your ears as you stepped inside—buzzing machines, flashing lights, and the occasional triumphant shout from someone who'd just beaten a high score. Wonwoo handed you a cup full of tokens, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"You've got two hours to prove you're better at games than me," he said.

"Better at arcade games," you corrected, narrowing your eyes. "I'm already better at regular ones."

"Debatable," he quipped, leading you toward the nearest set of machines.

For the next hour, it was pure chaos. Racing games, air hockey, a ridiculous basketball shooting contest where you nearly tripped over yourself trying to keep up with the timer—Wonwoo didn't hold back, his competitive streak pushing you to try harder than usual.

But it wasn't until the claw machine that things got serious.

"Watch and learn," you said, kneeling slightly to get a better view of the controls. Inside, a small fox plushie sat tauntingly close to the edge, and you were determined to get it.

"You're going to miss," Wonwoo teased, leaning lazily against the machine.

"Have a little faith," you said, focusing as the claw moved into position. You hit the button, watching with bated breath as the claw closed around the fox. For a moment, it held tight—but as it began to lift, the plushie slipped free and tumbled back into the pile.

"Ugh!" You groaned, slumping dramatically.

"Told you," Wonwoo said, his voice betraying his amusement.

"Okay, genius, your turn," you challenged, stepping aside.

Wonwoo cracked his knuckles like a pro and slid a token into the machine. With meticulous precision, he maneuvered the claw, dropping it squarely onto the fox. The claw grabbed it—firmly this time—and lifted it out of the pile without a hitch. When it dropped the plushie into the prize slot, you stared, dumbfounded.

"How—what—" you sputtered as he handed you the fox with a smug grin.

"Years of practice," he said casually, like it wasn't the most impressive thing he'd done all night.

"You are so obnoxious," you muttered, clutching the plushie like a trophy. But you couldn't help the smile spreading across your face.

As you moved to another game, you found yourselves side by side, shooting at pixelated zombies on an old arcade shooter. It was easy to slip into the rhythm—aim, shoot, laugh whenever one of you missed an obvious target.

Between rounds, Wonwoo glanced at you. "So... are you feeling okay? About earlier, I mean."

You gave him a small smile, keeping your eyes on the screen. "I should be asking you that. You were the one pouring your heart out over dinner."

He shrugged, shooting a zombie in the corner. "I guess I feel a little better. Thanks for listening, by the way."

"Anytime," you said lightly. Then, after a pause, you added, "You know, you're not the only one who got into streaming for a reason."

Wonwoo didn't look at you, but you could tell he was listening. His hands stilled on the controls for a moment before resuming. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said, keeping your tone casual. "It's not as deep as your fame thing, though. I just... needed a distraction. Something to keep me busy." You took a deep breath, trying to keep the weight of your words from dragging you down. "After my dad died, it was just me and my mom. She's all I have left, and when she got sick, I had to find a way to help. Streaming was just... something I could do while keeping my other job."

Wonwoo didn't say anything at first, but you felt his eyes on you, his attention unwavering. "That's a lot," he said softly. "I didn't know."

You shrugged, shooting another zombie. "I don't really talk about it. It's not like it changes anything. She's doing okay now, but... I can't lose her, you know?"

"I get it," he said after a moment. "Maybe not exactly, but... I get it."

You glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "Thanks."

The rest of the game went by in companionable silence, the conversation shifting back to lighter topics as you moved from one machine to another. By the time you stepped out of the arcade, the fox plushie tucked securely under your arm, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter.

Wonwoo walked you to his car, his hands in his pockets. "So," he said, glancing at you with a small smile. "How does it feel to lose at every single game?"

"I did not lose every game!" you protested, jabbing a finger at him.

"You didn't win, either," he teased, opening the passenger door for you.

"Next time, I'm destroying you," you said, climbing in.

"I'll hold you to that," he said, his voice tinged with warmth.

As he started the car, you found yourself glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. For someone who claimed to hate attention, Wonwoo had a way of making you feel seen—and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

The ride back was quiet, the kind of silence that felt comfortable, with the occasional hum of a soft melody from the car's radio. You fiddled with the fox plushie on your lap, sneaking a glance at Wonwoo as he drove. His face was illuminated by the glow of passing streetlights, his profile sharp, his jaw set with quiet focus.

"You're really good at this whole 'being nice' thing," you teased, breaking the silence.

Wonwoo glanced at you, one hand steady on the wheel. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. I mean, dinner, the arcade, this," you said, holding up the plushie. "It's almost suspicious. Who are you, and what did you do with the guy who can barely give a compliment without looking like he's in pain?"

He laughed softly, the sound low and a little self-conscious. "Maybe I'm just full of surprises."

"Clearly." You leaned back in your seat, a small smile playing on your lips. "Still, thanks. I needed tonight more than I realized."

Wonwoo didn't respond right away, but you caught the faint curve of his lips, the way his fingers tapped against the steering wheel as if he was working up to say something. When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of your building, he cut the engine and turned toward you, his gaze lingering just a second too long.

"What?" you asked, suddenly hyperaware of how close the two of you were in the quiet stillness of the car.

He shook his head slightly, his lips tugging into a faint smile. "Nothing. Just... you're different when it's just us."

"Different how?" you challenged, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

"Less guarded," he said, his eyes searching yours. "It's nice."

Your breath hitched, his words cutting through your usual defenses. For a moment, you just stared at him, the air between you thick with something unspoken—something you weren't sure either of you was ready to name.

"Wonwoo—"

But before you could finish, he leaned forward, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His lips brushed yours tentatively at first, as if testing the waters, but when you didn't pull away, the kiss deepened. His fingers slid into your hair, his touch firm but not demanding, and you found yourself leaning into him, your hands gripping the front of his jacket to pull him closer.

The world outside faded away—no noise, no lights, just the two of you in the quiet cocoon of the car. His kiss was unhurried but purposeful, the kind that made your heart race and your mind go blissfully blank. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing a little heavier, your foreheads resting against each other.

"Well," you said after a beat, your voice slightly shaky. "That's... definitely one way to end a night."

Wonwoo chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Don't," you interrupted, your voice firm. "Don't apologize."

He smiled at that, his usual calm demeanor slipping back into place. "Okay."

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the delicate balance of what had just happened and what it might mean. But then he pulled back slightly, his hand dropping to his lap as he gave you one of those rare, boyish smiles that made your chest ache.

"Goodnight," he said softly.

You nodded, grabbing the plushie and opening the door. Before stepping out, you turned back to him, your eyes meeting his. "Goodnight, Wonwoo."

As you closed the door and headed up to your apartment, you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the quiet intensity of the moment lingering like a secret you weren't ready to share with the world just yet.

As you disappeared into the building, the door shutting behind you with a soft click, Wonwoo leaned back against his seat, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. For a long moment, he just sat there, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, his thoughts an absolute mess.

It wasn't just about the kiss. Sure, the feel of your lips on his, the way you'd pulled him closer like you didn't want the moment to end—that was enough to make his pulse quicken even now. But it was more than that. He wasn't just attracted to you—no, this went beyond the warmth of your touch or the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention.

This was something deeper, something he hadn't been prepared for.

He'd always been careful with his emotions, keeping them in check like a well-guarded secret. He thought he knew the limits of what he felt for you, that he could compartmentalize it, keep it safe in the category of "just friends" or "casual." But tonight? Tonight had thrown all of that out the window.

The way you'd shared pieces of yourself with him, the quiet strength beneath your teasing, the vulnerability you'd let slip when you thought he wasn't watching—it wasn't just endearing. It wasn't just charming. It was devastating in the best way. Because somewhere between the banter and the games, between the shared smiles and the quiet truths, he'd started to fall for you.

Really fall.

Wonwoo rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low groan. "Shit."

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not when you were clearly dealing with so much—your mom, your job, the shadow of your dad's memory. He'd seen the way your smile faltered sometimes, the way you carried the weight of your world like it was stitched into your skin. And then there was Jeonghan.

Jeonghan.

The thought of his old friend sent a sharp pang through his chest. He wasn't blind—he'd seen the way Jeonghan looked at you, the way his playful banter turned softer, more intentional, when it came to you. And you? You seemed drawn to him in a way that made Wonwoo's chest tighten, even if he tried to ignore it.

"Great," he muttered to himself, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Just great."

He glanced at the building one last time before starting the car, the soft purr of the engine breaking the heavy silence. As he drove off into the night, one thought lingered in his mind, unsettling and undeniable:

It wasn't just a crush anymore. It wasn't just attraction. It wasn't just anything. It was you. And he was falling faster than he'd ever expected.

Meanwhile, upstairs, you were pacing your living room, the fox plushie still clutched tightly in your arms. Your lips still tingled faintly from the kiss, your heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it had no business doing. You groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch.

"What the hell just happened?"

You replayed the night in your mind—the dinner, the arcade, the stupidly thoughtful way he listened to you talk about your mom and your dad. The kiss. God, the kiss. It had been... unexpected. Intense. And, worst of all, it had felt right. Too right.

But you didn't have time for this. Not now. Not when your mom needed you, not when work was pulling you in a million directions, and certainly not when Jeonghan—damn it, Jeonghan—was still in the picture, his presence looming in your thoughts like a shadow you couldn't escape.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, snapping you out of your spiral. It was a text from Jeonghan.

DM from [worst boss in the world] Jeonghan: Don't forget we have a meeting at 8 tomorrow. Don't be late.

You stared at the screen, your stomach twisting in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. This was too much. Too complicated. Too... everything.

Flipping the phone over, you buried your face in the plushie, letting out a muffled groan. "Get it together," you muttered to yourself. But the words felt hollow, the knot in your chest refusing to loosen.

Because no matter how much you tried to focus on the things that mattered—your mom, your work, your responsibilities—your thoughts kept circling back. Back to Wonwoo. Back to Jeonghan. Back to the tangled mess of emotions you didn't know how to sort through.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were in over your head.

The soft glow of your bedroom lamp cast long shadows on the walls as you sat cross-legged on your bed, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. The fox plushie sat beside you, its little black eyes almost mocking you with their innocence.

You stared at your phone screen, re-reading a text from Wonwoo that you’d seen earlier but hadn’t responded to yet.

DM from [fuckass bitch dickhead] Wonwoo: Did you make it home okay?

It was simple. Straightforward. Just like him. But the knot in your chest only tightened as you read it, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.

You: yeah, im home. thanks again for dinner. and… everything.

You hit send before you could overthink it, tossing the phone onto your pillow like it might explode. Pulling the plushie into your lap, you rested your chin on its soft head and let out a long sigh.

Tonight had felt like something shifting, like a weight you hadn’t even realized you were carrying had been lifted. But with that lightness came something heavier—something you weren’t sure you were ready to name.

Your phone buzzed again, and for a second, you thought it might be Wonwoo. But it wasn’t.

Jeonghan: Leaving work early for “dinner plans” now? Should I be jealous? 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the faint twitch of your lips. Typical Jeonghan—playful with just enough edge to make you second-guess if there was something more beneath the words.

You: oh, please. dont make it weird. Jeonghan: I’m not. Just checking. I’d hate for our star employee to get distracted.

You could practically hear his voice, that calm, almost teasing tone that never failed to keep you on your toes. And yet, there was something in those words that lingered—like he wanted to say more but wouldn’t.

Tossing your phone aside, you flopped back onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. Between the tension at work, your mom’s health, and tonight’s… whatever it was with Wonwoo, you couldn’t afford distractions. But that didn’t stop them from creeping in anyway.

And as the night wore on, one thought kept echoing in your mind, quiet but insistent.

This wasn’t just about them anymore. This was about you.

a/n: i definitely am aware of how terrible the plot is. anyway, i tried my best? hope you all liked it !

thank you for supporting me !

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THANK YOU FOR STAYING ILY GUYS SO MUCH MWUAAAHH ! <3

[angeliqueiguess]

Crushing Hard, Lifting Heavy (Pt. 2)

w.count: 2.6k

pairing: gymtrainer! jeno x afab!reader

genre: little fic (based on this requested moodboard)

tags: swearing, suggestive, Mark being a douche and Haechan being annoying (srry), Jeno & reader falling for each other before the date lol, Reader's bff being funny, snarky comments, sarcasm, fem reader but it doesnt specify how she looks like.

As Y/n left the gym and slid into her car, she mentally kicked herself for making a fool of herself.

"How do you just leave without giving him your number?" she said, turning the key to start the engine. She sat there for a moment, staring at the gym entrance, replaying everything that had just happened.

"Well… at least I gave it to him, right?" she muttered softly, glancing at her phone resting on the passenger seat beside her gym bag. But as the scene replayed in her mind, embarrassment crept up her neck, setting her cheeks on fire.

The drive home didn’t offer much relief—her thoughts were racing. If she was this anxious now, how on earth was she going to survive Friday at six? Wait, it was at six, right? Yeah… six. She shook her head, trying to stop the spiral.

When she finally got home, her pet greeted her with an explosion of excitement.

"Hey, baby! Did you miss me?" she cooed, her voice soft and playful as she closed the door behind her. "Are you hungry? Hmm? Wanna eat?" she continued in that silly voice reserved only for her pet—no one else could ever hear her talk like this.

After feeding him, she sighed and stretched. Her muscles ached from the day’s workout, which had been way more intense than she’d expected. A shower first, then food. That was the plan.

"I swear, Sora, he just came up to me and asked," Y/n said shyly, setting her phone on the counter as she stirred the food she was cooking. She was on a video call with her friend, who was far too curious to let the conversation slide.

"Oh. My. God!" Sora exclaimed dramatically. "This is the kind of story you tell your grandkids!" Y/n chuckled, shaking her head as she reached for some seasoning.

"Ugh, shut up!" she said with a grin. "For a second, I seriously thought he was messing with me." Sora scoffed.

"Mess with you? Girl, have you seen yourself?" Y/n rolled her eyes, and Sora was quick to pounce. "Don’t even try it—I saw that eye roll!" Sora teased, making Y/n laugh as she leaned on the counter, resting her face in her hands.

"It’s not that big of a deal," Y/n sighed. "I mean, he asked me out, but he’s way too good-looking for this to go smoothly. There’s gotta be a catch." Every few moments, she stirred the food to keep it from burning.

"Maybe," Sora said, "but the point is—he asked. Don’t overthink it." Y/n opened her mouth to respond, but Sora cut her off. "Come on, Y/n! You showed me pictures of this guy. He’s delicious." Y/n burst out laughing, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

"Stop it, Sora!" she scolded, half-embarrassed, shaking her head.

"I’m just saying!" Sora said, pausing for effect. "If I were in your shoes, I’d already have his babies—and you know it." Y/n gave her a look, one that said everything without words.

"I’m not doing that. I mean, I thought about it, but I’ll never actually do it. I promise," Sora said holding up her hands in deffense. "Look, if it all goes south, just stop going to that gym. Not like you need it, queen." Y/n sighed, her thoughts circling back.

"I don’t know. He’s just so nice—always smiling when he helps me with stuff... I feel so dumb sometimes, like my brain goes haywire whenever he’s around. And I start stuttering, too." Sora gave her a knowing look, as if to say, Girl, you’ve already fallen.

"Y/n L/n, listen to me," Sora said, clutching her chest theatrically. "You’re caught. Hook, line, and sinker, my friend."

"Maybe…" Y/n admitted with a soft sigh. "But seriously, there’s got to be something off about him. He’s just too perfect."

Without missing a beat, Sora asked, "What if he’s got a small dick?" Y/n choked on the food she was taste-testing, coughing violently.

"You—!" she wheezed, clutching her chest as she struggled to breathe.

"Are you okay?! Should I call an ambulance?" Sora asked, holding her phone closer in concern. Y/n kept coughing, waving her hand to signal she was fine.

"You’re… an idiot, Sora," she managed between gasps, finally catching her breath.

"Well, excuse me! I was ready to drive over there and save your life!"

"Trust me, if I’d actually choked, I’d already be dead," Y/n said dryly, seeing the amused yet scandalized expression on her friend’s face.

"Don’t even joke about that! You’re not dying—not without getting a good look at your trainer’s package first," Sora teased.

Y/n shook her head, biting back a grin. "You’re impossible. Now, if you don’t mind, my food is ready, and I’d really like to eat it while it’s still hot."

"Alright, enjoy your meal, girl!" Sora said cheerfully before ending the call. Y/n placed her phone on the counter, smiling to herself.

And then, the last thing she expected happened. Well, it wasn’t that she feared it exactly, but she definitely wasn’t prepared for it to occur at that moment. ''Damn, I cook too well'' She murmured to herself with a satisfied smile as she unlocked the screen.

“Jeno Gym” — 2 messages.

Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed quickly and accidentally tapped the notification, opening the chat instantly. "Great… now he’s going to think I’m desperate," she thought, a mix of frustration and nerves washing over her.

There were two voice messages. She adjusted the volume, took a deep breath, and with a slight tremble in her finger, pressed the first one.

“Hey, hi... sorry for the late hour, it’s Jeno, your trainer,” he said, ending with a light laugh. Y/n felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks. She abruptly paused the audio and let out a nervous sigh, glancing at her dog, Junni, who was watching her with curiosity, his tail wagging excitedly.

''Don’t look at me like that, Junni… This is not the best time for judgment'' she muttered under her breath, lowering her head for a moment. Gathering her courage, she pressed play on the audio again, ready to face whatever came next.

“I wanted to know where you’d like to go on Friday... I know it’s still a few days away, and maybe I’m moving too fast, sorry.”

The first message ended, and without giving her time to process it, the next one started.

“But no pressure, okay?” Jeno added in a relaxed tone. “I hope you have a lovely night. Text me whenever you want, no rush, you decide.”

When Jeno’s voice faded, Y/n dropped the phone onto the counter as if it were burning hot. The sigh that escaped her this time was deeper, almost resigned. She looked at Junni, who was still there, wagging his tail with enthusiasm, as if everything were perfectly under control.

''Your auntie was right, Junni... I’m completely lost ''She admitted, surrendering to the chaos that Jeno had stirred in her mind. She buried her face in her hands, as if that could somehow slow the racing of her heart.

This is it; there’s no turning back now, she thought to herself.

On the other side of the city, Jeno was in his apartment, nervously drumming his fingers against his knee. He felt an urge to punch the wall every time he thought about the voice messages he had sent.

''God... did I sound too stupid?'' He said, slumped in a corner of the couch. His phone sat on the table across the room like a ticking bomb. He couldn't even bring himself to look at it. The embarrassment coursed through him.

“What if she doesn’t reply? What if she says yes and then regrets it? What if she just stands me up?” The thoughts spiraled endlessly. He wanted to get up, but each time he tried to walk toward the phone, he froze in place.

“What if she thinks I’m just some desperate guy who’s never been out with a woman?” he asked himself quietly, feeling anxiety tighten around his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

Finally, he sprang to his feet.

''Fuck it... It’s now or never.'' He crossed the room with determination, even though his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of his chest. When he reached the phone, he picked it up, seeing her name on the screen: Y/n. He exhaled slowly, a nervous smile creeping onto his face. It wasn’t just one message... it was three voice notes.

He mentally prepared himself and, refusing to be intimidated any longer, opened the chat.

''Come on, Jeno, grow a fucking pair...'' He whispered to himself, trying to boost his courage. He tapped the first audio, and Y/n's voice filled the room.

“Hey, Jeno...”

Immediately, he paused the message. The phone trembled in his hands, as if he needed it to breathe. ''Breathe, damn it...'' He muttered under his breath, and hit play again.

“Um, honestly, I’d prefer if you chose the place... You seem like someone with good taste, haha.” Hearing her laughter felt like a celestial choir erupted in his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sound. But the moment was short-lived; in the background, he heard a bark that jolted him back to reality. He frowned, confused, but soon understood.

In the next audio, Y/n continued with a soothing tone.

“And don’t worry, you didn’t sound rushed at all.” Jeno felt his chest lighten, a smile breaking across his face involuntarily. He could hear her gently scolding something.

“Junni, stop it.”

That little detail made him smile even more. Not only did he like her, but he also found her pet adorable. As the last audio began to play, Jeno felt like he could listen to her voice on repeat for the rest of his life.

“So Friday is your turn... Next time, it’s my turn, okay?” The air caught in his throat.

''Wait... what the fuck?'' —he whispered, incredulous.

He rewound the message to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

“Next time, it’s my turn, okay?”

Jeno froze for a few seconds, trying to process it. Another date? Was she really saying she wanted there to be a next time? His stomach flipped with excitement. Euphoric, he scrambled for the right words to reply. He had to respond quickly... but without sounding too eager.

''Come on, Jeno, think!'' —he told himself quietly, rubbing his hands together. Finally, he pressed the button to record a voice message.

''Okay, perfect! See you tomorrow at the gym... Good morning!'' With a huge smile, he sent the message. But that smile faded in an instant. As soon as he heard the audio he had just sent, he brought a hand to his face in horror.

''God... I fucked it up!!'' He tried to delete the message, but it was too late: Y/n had already heard it. Now all he could do was wait.

Ping! A text.

´´Hahahaha, that was funny! Anyways, see you tomorrow <3''

''A heart, she sent me a heart'' He said out loud plopping down in the sofa with an ear-to-ear smile.

The following days passed by normally… well, normal for everyone else except them. For Y/n and Jeno, those days were anything but easy. They weren’t torturous in a bad way, but the anxiety was overwhelming. Both of them were bundles of nerves leading up to the date. They barely managed to talk to each other, and when they did, the words seemed to get stuck in their throats. Y/n kept losing count during her sets, and Jeno got constant scoldings from Mark for zoning out.

“Hey! Focus!” Mark snapped at him, irritated. “Stop drooling over your girlfriend and go help Haechan with the leg press. He won’t shut up about it.” Jeno rolled his eyes and sighed as he walked past Mark.

“I wish she was,” he muttered under his breath. Mark let out a mocking laugh.

“You? Not even in your next life.” His gaze stayed locked on Y/n as he spoke. Jeno turned, fists clenched, ready to fire back, but Haechan’s loud whining interrupted him.

“Jeno! Help me, please!” Haechan called out dramatically, clutching his back like he was in real pain.

“You’re so annoying,” Jeno grumbled, shaking his head as he walked over to him. “This isn’t even that heavy. You work here, idiot—aren’t you supposed to be strong enough for this?” Jeno grunted as he practically moved the press on his own, doing most of the heavy lifting.

“Thanks, man,” Haechan said, grinning. Jeno barely nodded, but as he glanced up, his heart sank—Y/n was talking to Mark. His legs moved on instinct, but just as he was about to head over, Haechan’s arm blocked his way. “Bro, chill… There are people here,” Haechan warned in a low voice.

“Fuck the gym,” Jeno muttered, pushing Haechan’s arm aside. He wasn’t planning to cause a scene; he just wanted to eavesdrop on whatever conversation was happening.

Feigning that he was adjusting a machine, Jeno leaned closer, ears straining to catch their words.

“So, got any plans for tomorrow night?” Mark asked casually, though the tone grated on Jeno’s nerves. His jaw tightened.

“Yes, I do,” Y/n answered confidently, her tone calm and collected—so different from the knot twisting in Jeno’s stomach.

“Care to share who the lucky guy is?” Mark teased, that smug grin plastered on his face. “Or girl… Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Jeno’s grip on the dumbbell tightened. Was Mark seriously treating her like some kind of prize? He couldn’t take it anymore. With a subtle shift, Jeno moved a weight just enough to make a loud clink, enough to grab their attention without looking obvious.

Both Y/n and Mark glanced toward the sound.

“Yes,” Y/n said, still facing Mark, before turning her gaze toward Jeno. “I’m going out with Jeno.”

She smiled at him, and Jeno, caught off guard, managed to smile back—though it felt more like his brain had short-circuited. For a moment, he swore he saw Mark’s jaw drop. And savored every second of it.

The day had finally arrived. Y/n didn’t show up at the gym, but Jeno wasn’t too worried—she’d already texted him:

"Jeno, I’m skipping the gym today. Don’t miss me, lol."

It had been three hours since the message, and Jeno was still in a good mood, practically walking on air. The excitement for what the night had in store kept his nerves at bay.

''So, she ditched you, huh?'' Haechan teased, draping a heavy arm over Jeno’s shoulder. Without missing a beat, Jeno shrugged off his friend’s arm with a casual roll of his shoulder, pretending it didn’t faze him.

''Nah'' He replied coolly, shrugging. ''She said she’s getting ready for tonight. You know… girl stuff. You wouldn’t understand.'' He threw in a nonchalant wave and made his way toward one of the machines, though his heart was pounding beneath the surface. Of course, Haechan trailed behind, sticking to him like a shadow.

''Mark told me she’s going out with you tonight. Thought he was joking, to be honest.'' Haechan smirked, that signature teasing grin on full display.

Jeno snorted softly, shaking his head with a smug grin of his own. ''Oh really? '' He said, raising an eyebrow without giving much away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else, knowing full well that feeding Haechan’s curiosity would only make things worse. Instead, he shot him a quick look that said, "You can keep wondering," and walked off, leaving Haechan behind this time.

His thoughts were already far ahead—on tonight, and only on her.

Jeno clocked out of work at exactly 4:00 PM, which meant he'd be home by 4:20. A quick shower, a little time to get ready, and by 6:00, he’d be at Y/n’s door—right on time. He had chosen a restaurant that hit the sweet spot: not too expensive, but not too casual either. It was a place he knew well, with a reservation already secured. Everything was set. There was nothing left to stress about. As he started the car, he fired off a message to Y/n, telling her a bit about his day and letting her know he’d text when he was outside. With the message sent, he tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and focused on getting home in one piece.

Meanwhile, Y/n was on the verge of a meltdown. She had absolutely no clue what to wear. In a moment of desperation, she’d even tried to get Junni, to help her decide—holding up two different outfits and waiting for some kind of sign. But Junni just stayed curled up in his bed, completely uninterested in the existential crisis of someone with rent to pay.

“Thanks for nothing, Junni,” she muttered, half-frustrated, half-defeated, giving him a light scratch behind the ears. He barely flicked his tail in response.

With a heavy sigh, she slumped down on the couch, still wrapped in towels—one twisted around her damp hair and another around her body. She’d only just stepped out of the shower when Jeno’s text popped up on her phone.

And that’s when it hit her—she didn’t have an outfit planned. How did I forget this?! Panic started bubbling to the surface, making her chest feel tight.

prev//next

Angelique's note: Heeeey, it's me! And with an update! Sorry for making it so long (the next chapters will be filled with a lot of things, iykyk) Anyhow, here is the part two of this Jeno fic! I hope everyone enjoyed it and let me know what you think in the ask box (i truly love answering your yapping <3) As always, every type of interaction will be welcome and don't forget to eat and to stay hydrated. Love yaaaaa.

Taglist: @thegracerammy (let me know if you would like to be tagged in the next chapter <3)

[trippygalaxy]

SR! Boys Nicknames For You! PT 2

Part 2 of my Sacred Realm romantic nickname headcanon list! Finally having the energy and motivation to write is so nice yall-- And to keep the posts even, this list will only have two of the boys! As will the last.

No warnings ahead! Just some fluffy boys loving their S/O!

Includes: Twilight, Worlds

Part 1

Twilight

Heartstopper

You have an ongoing joke between the two of you where, you could do the smallest thing- like fixing his hair after he got too rowdy with the other heroes, and suddenly his clutching his chest! 'Woe is me, my heart-- it has simply skipped a beat! You witch, what love spell have you bestowed me?' And before you know it, the nickname of 'heartstopper' seemed to have stuck!

Twi often jokes that if he wasn't already dead, you'd be the death of him! He isnt quiet about his love and adoration for you, nor just how much you make his heart race. You can see his flush cheeks from a mile away as he admires you, a stupidly cute smile on his crooked lips that screams 'I LOVE YOU' without the man needing to make a single noise

My Moon

A sappy name, perhaps a little ironic considering how the spirit proclaims his love for you sounding akin to a endearing but pitiful howl of a demanding pup but its one that never gets old.

To him, you are the only light he'll ever need, even on the darkest of nights. You light his path unlike any torch he has carried, and even in his death, your presence gives him comfort just like the slivery beams of night did on his lonesome adventure. Maybe all of these flowery words are true, or maybe he says it to jab at his wolfish self, an inside joke of shorts.

Sugar

Some of the boy's old farmer self peaks through even years after he last stepped foot on the tilled ground! At first, he didnt even notice the slips, the name as natural as every other word that falls from his lips. It was something a lot more natural, not a joke or a sappy show of love, but something a lot more genuine.

This isnt to say that Twilight's other loving names for you arent just as genuine, no, this is simply something from deep within his soul, like an old memory that pulls on his tongue. A memory of a life untainted, scars that only scar the skin and not soul, where sleep was soft as the grass and as refreshing as spring water. As were you.

Worlds

Angel

You'll soon see that most the nicknames the hero of Worlds gives you comes from a place of teasing and to the untrained eye it seems more sarcastic than loving.

Yet 'Angel' is one of the more softer ones. Maybe he isnt too fond of the divine, maybe he doesn't care for the worship or the pedestal they are placed upon because maybe he sees them unworthy of such praise-- Hell, look at his timeline! But maybe, maybe he sees you as one of the few who are worthy of holding such a divine title.

Or maybe hes just a snarky ass who wants to poke at your 'goody two shoes' nature.

Sweet tooth

Worlds finds you wayyyy too sweet! Especially compared to his salty nature and taste. Even if you give as much attitude as he gives ya, you'll always see him dramatically checking his teeth after hanging out with you. When you ask why, he gives a lazy smirk and says; "Making sure that you aren't giving me any cavities."

He'll encourage any 'bad behavior' he sees (snarky comments, dry sarcasm etc) and flip off any of the other spirits who say he's 'corrupting you.' Double teaming Time the boys with your snark is your bonding time! ((even if you apologize to them afterwards))

Third Wheel

OKAY-- Worlds calls you this in reference to him technically being two spirits, and NOT in a way that implies him and Ravio share a bond like you and him. If anything, its more like how a best friend tags along on a date

Now, Ravio would NEVER call you a third wheel, and even says that technically he isnt even present when Worlds is taking charge but Worlds is quick to cut him out-- leaning heavy into a 'bromance' the two have. At least you dont have to fight to get your time in with your lover!

@yourlocaltreesimp

[kyberphilosopher]

Reverse Flash

A backwards version of your favorite speedster comes searching for Barry, only to find you instead. 

Word Count: 2403 Warnings: Crude Humor. Not proof read yet because I’m too tired. 

As per my latest fics, the gender of the reader is not specified. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Barry was always nice to you.

Well, Barry was nice to everyone. I mean, his parents named him Barry. He was set up for a life of cheekiness before he was even born. But Barry was nice to you even after ‘the incident’. Barry was nice to you when everyone else stopped. On top of that, Barry was being nicer to you than usual lately.

Probably because he and Iris were having a rough spot.

That was the only annoying thing. Barry liked you, and he was interested in you, but you were still second place. He was just using you. He wouldn’t marry you, or feel a deep longing for you. He’d just take you on ice skating rink dates in the winter and give you the best Valentine’s day of your life every year. Which is everyone’s dream, you guess, but it wouldn’t have been genuine, no matter what Barry managed to convince himself.

Barry’s little support team seemed to be on the same page as you (which was a first), which both added to and subdued your aggravation. All of them were in agreement of the simple fact: you were no good for Barry. Mr. Flash was the only one who didn’t seem to get the memo.

In the very beginning, things weren’t like how they were now. Team Flash or whatever the name was considered you good colleague, and they trusted you because Allen trusted you. You had been friends with Barry longer than anyone else there. And of course you were smart, and you handled annoying journalists and incriminating footage like it was nothing. But then you’d suggested using lethal force to subdue one of the Flash’s biggest problems. That’s when the air changed. That’s when people decided you should not now, not ever go on a date with him. It would throw off the whole rhythm of the team, probably Barry’s morals and possible the timeline. Lucky you.

Though flat out rejecting Barry might make it worse. You had been irritable lately. Maybe a little more sarcastic than normal. What if you snap, and then the team snaps too? And sweet little Barry is too kind to tell you off? God, you knew you were the worst, but the thought alone seemed like more than just ‘the worst’. It was like a tornado of stinky shit just barreling toward you, somehow simultaneously faster than the speed of light and slower than a turtle filled with rocks for organs.

And it was all definitely Barry Allen’s fault.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Stuck with watching Headquarters while all the speedsters go out and... speed. Who knows. You’re out of the loop with the whole... speed demon thing. You’re pretty sure they have a group chat without you. Fuckin’ nerds.

Your legs are stretched out to the desk in front of you. They cross over each other at the ankles, to the left of the big computer monitor that’s supposed to display the heartbeats of the team but is instead displaying something from cartoon network. A near empty bag of Chinese food sits at your side, it’s contents littered across the table.

As you chew, you look around the room. Several suits in display cases curve against the wall in a half circle, illuminated by blue light. Some are burgundy, some are silver, and some are golden. And you could smash every single one of them right now.

But you won’t, and you don’t. Not to say it isn’t tempting- it is. You still don’t touch the suits. 

God, what’s been wrong with you recently? Barry was your friend, and yet you’d been so annoyed with him. His flirting had only made it worse. Wally wasn’t any better. He got even more annoying once thinking about how childish, yet powerful he was. All the Kid Flash’s were just temporary brats that never stayed, whether you  liked them or not. And Iris wasn’t a fan of you. That was fine, because you weren’t exactly a friend of Iris’s either. So the most important part of your life that literally depended on superhuman existence and stopping crime was teetering because of pure social discomfort. Typical.

You’re watching the screen that serves as the closest light in the room as you shovel the next bite of rice between your lips. Neon colors make the shadows across your face feel alive and electric. It makes the glow in your eyes more prominent, encouraged by the childish nature of the media. You’ve just finished a snarky personal comment and given yourself another bite of rice when he appears to you.

He looks like Barry. The only difference is that he’s the complete opposite.

Instead of scarlet, his speed suit is yellow with red and dark grey accents. They remind you of blood lightning at the seams. Even under his half mask, he seems so familiar but so much more defined than your friend. As he exits the slice of colorful air and thunder, the heels of his shoes skidding across the floor, the red glow in his eyes settles into a calmer thrum.

And you’re still frozen in place, eyes wide as you still yourself mid chew.

The yellow speedster settles his orbs on you. They’re intelligent, and in the reflection of the little light in the room you can see they’re not red, but blue. And you? You’re just a deer in the headlights. 

“Aw, you’re not Barry,” he groans in disappointment, standing straighter as his arms cross over his chest. 

You finally continue your chewing, keeping your wide eyes on the intruder. Then you swallow it down. In your chest, your heart thump, thump, thumps with something. Fear? Not quite. Anxiety? Almost. It’s something else. Something more... intuitive. And the way this man looks at you makes you think that he can hear it, even from where he stands. That he knows.

“Uh... no?”

The man responds not a millisecond after you’ve gotten the words out. “Where is he? Where’s Barry Allen?”

Woof. His voice is throaty and laced with sarcasm, even though he’s clearly deathly serious. But the vibrations send a funny spasm straight to that little place between your legs, making the nerves in your spine dance with alertness. Arousal. Barry was never able to do that, let alone with just the sound of his voice.  

“Doing something?” you decide. “I don’t know.”

The golden man cocks his head to the side, almost smirks, and takes a step forward. “Hey, I know you.” His arms uncross. One raises and bends to point at you. “You’re Barry’s tech support. I remember reading about you in his museum.”

Your brows furrow. Hurriedly, you clear the take-out box from your lap and begin wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You drop your legs from their position on the desk to their normal position on the floor, knees bent. “Uh... I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah... Y/N L/N. Now I see it.” The man leans back on his heels and looks around the room. The red glow in his orbs burn away completely so it’s just him. “Ah, so this must be before you defected, huh? Interesting.”

“Pardon?!” you call again. Now you’re sitting forward, disbelief across your face. 

Golden speedster smiles. It looks evilly distorted, even though it’s just a normal smile. It curves his face sarcastically. His hands fly upwards as if in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N. You know actually, you’re kind of a villain in my time. This is nice for me.”

“Great, I’ll tell Barry when I see him,” you bite.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now how about you tell me where Barry is before I erase you from existence.”

“I don’t know,” you repeat as the quick bolt of fear fizzles from your system. Your eyes trail down to his chest for just a quick second, but it’s quick enough to observe yet another difference between your familiar scarlet speedster and him. The circle surrounding the lightning bolt on his chest is facing the opposite direction, red, and that circle is filled with black. It’s as if he were the complete opposite of Barry. A reverse Barry. 

“Yeah you do. Come on.”

You blink once, still in your roll-y chair. 

You’re not sure what to do here. On one hand, this guy radiates pure evil. You should really alert Barry or one of the other members of Team Flash. But for one reason or another you’ve made no attempt to. You’ve got no clue who this dude is other than the fact that he seems more inclined to rip the fabric of time apart than anyone else. There’s no doubt in your mind he really will erase you from existence if you make one wrong move. But what���s the wrong move?

On the other hand, Team Flash has been a bunch of dickhead’s to you. Barry has been ironically slow to the whole thing. Would it be so bad if you did make a wrong move? Not for you, but for your friends? They’d all die, wouldn’t they? This yellow one would end them, and then what? Would it really be so horrible for you? You can’t imagine mourning much.

“I don’t,” you say again, slowly. “They’re in the city. I don’t know where.”

The man seems to think for a moment, cocking his head back so the light behind the glass cases catches his sharpened features. “Hmm.”

Without even blinking, now he’s in front of you. So close, you can smell him. It’s not terribly strong, it’s just masculine. But it’s also flowery, with a dash of sweat from running. And then there’s something more. Something... metallic? 

Both his hands clutch the arms of the chair beside you, trapping you as you lean back reflexively. “Did you know that I killed Barry’s childhood best friend before he was born?” the man says lowly. 

On instinct, you prepare yourself to say, ‘Barry doesn’t have a childhood best friend’. Then you realize why. 

He continues. “Would you tell me where Barry was if you did know?”

You don’t even think about it. You’re true to your nature. “I don’t know, would I?”

Blip! You wait to burst into a cloud of nothingness. To never have been born or even get to be a ghost. But fifteen seconds later you’re still alive. And from the way Barry talks about being a Flash, fifteen seconds is a long time for someone of that caliber. 

The man is back by the cases of suits now. You can see his muscles through his suit. They’re more defined than Barry’s, thank God. 

“I think you would. But it’s gonna be hard to do that when you’ve got my fingers vibrating into your skull.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be hard to speak when my fingers are inside you.”

You cup a hand against your ear. “Huh?”

“I said-” The man stops. His eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest once more. “Oh, I see.” A short, dry- but genuine- laugh falls from his throat. “Very funny. Very, very funny.”

Suddenly, your eyebrows crease together in confusion. You place both palms on the arms of the chair for leverage as you push yourself into a stand, as if stirred by some great, important purpose. “Wait. Did you say you were going to stick your fingers inside me?”

“I knew you and I were the same,” he drawls. He sounds entertained. As if in his eyes, missing Barry and meeting you instead was the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. 

“Can’t you just...” Your shoulders slump as you glance around. “Just kill Barry and get on with it?”

“Aw, no. This is far more interesting.”

“Fingers in my skull...?” you whisper, half to yourself. Then you look up to him with a snap. “You are so weird,” you tell Reverse Barry, emphasizing it with a low point. “So weird.”

“Want me to tell your future?” 

Again with the voice and the nerves in that special place. 

“I gotta say, it’s kind of disturbing,” the man smirks. “You’ll love it.”

“Weird.”

Across the base, just two hallways away, something clicks. It’s a familiar click. It’s the click of the door opening. 

Quickly, you glance backwards, then lean down to pause the show on the computer. You hadn’t even realized it was still going. Once that’s done, the man is still standing in front of you. That sinister and yet innocent grin is still dancing across his face, though his steely eyes are totally locked on you. 

“What, weirdo? You know where he is now. Aren’t you gonna go get him?”

“You want me to so badly, don’t you?” Reverse Barry whispers. You just give him a look. 

“I’ll be back for you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

And then the speedster is gone. Right on time, too, cause Barry jogs into the room not a second later. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you turn around. 

“Did I just... see someone here?” Barry points towards your end of the room in his scarlet suit. Huh. Reverse Barry was taller too. 

“What are you on about?” you throw casually. “Nobody’s been here but me since you left.”

“Are you sure?” the Flash keeps pushing. You hate it. Pushing. 

“Yes, Barry,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure. Oh, by the way, Barry. Did you have a childhood best friend?”

Barry frowns. “No, why?”

You smile to yourself as you turn back away from him. The other speedster’s footsteps are coming closer and closer. You can hear them echo off the walls. 

“No reason,” you answer with a smirk just as one of them enters the room, probably to give you crap again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Fun fact, Reverse Flash is actually my favorite villain in DC comics. Bro is vicious in the comics. I just hate all the live action versions of him we get. Lego DC Villains Reverse Flash and Injustice 2 are the best versions. Injustice 2 is my personal preference. I’d like to do more with this but, who knows. Depends how this is received. #lol

[writingtoforgetreality]

New World Order - TFATWS Rewrite Chapter One (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist], [TFATWS Rewrite-Masterlist]

Next Chapter

Summary: You were an Avenger. That was how the world viewed you. Nobody else knew about your past & it was for the better. After all, you had Sam. You had Bucky. That had to be enough. At least for now.

Words: 6,214

Warnings: language, sarcasm, expect some sort of slow burn, there are hints already, this is a Bucky fic, which means that it'll focus on his scenes more, spoilers for TFATWS, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were no superhero. At least, you would never say you were one. Your past was filled with actions you regretted. None of it was your fault. It was not your decision to be the child of the leader of a HYDRA base. It was not your decision to grow up like a warrior. Fighting. Killing.

Your father was the bad guy. You knew that now. As a child, you did not see through his facade. How could you? He was your dad. Someone who was supposed to love you endlessly. Those years had shaped you. Into the person you were today.

Deep down, you wished there was a way to make you forget. Forget about your past. Forget about the pain. Forget about it all. Hell, you were a laboratory experiment. Those powers did not come from nowhere. No. They came from tons of needles, pumping a toxic serum into you veins. You should not even be alive anymore. Not by what now flowed through your body. Apparently, it was for your own good. That was how your dad put it. Absolute bullshit. Growing up isolated from the world, being trained to fight, to kill, daily. Your own good my ass. If it did one thing, then it ruined your damn life.

But at least you had powers, right? Blue flames you could control. Those blue flames that were hotter than anything else in this world. It took an awful lot of time to fully have control. Truthfully, you hated that part of you with every fiber of your being. It had been the cause of one too many deaths. You had been the cause. But weakness was not in your nature. If you did not show strength you would be a disappointment. Something you really did not want to be.

Bucky was the reason you got out of this life. He was the one to rescue you out of this hell hole. He was the one to show you an entirely different part of this world. And for that, you could never thank him enough. If it were not for Bucky, you would have gone insane ages ago. Who knew if you were still here today?

The Avengers were aware of your past. Of you being a part of HYDRA back in the days. Yet, you had never elaborated this any further. If there was one thing you were good at, it was keeping things to yourself. No need to burden others with your struggles. And you did struggle. Every single day. Because your mind was filled with memories. Memories you had tried to burn. Memories you wanted to erase. Memories of you being the bad guy. Just like your dad had been.

Your life changed when you were introduced to the Avengers. They did not trust you. Not right away. But during the fight with Thanos, the one after the Blip, you proved yourself to be worthy of their trust. Especially Steve. He had been there for you. When everyone else failed to believe in you. He was gone now. And it hurt like hell. Giving up was never an option. And the universe did not plan on giving you a break anytime soon. For now, you had to bury your feelings as deep as possible. Your focus should solely be on the new threats of this world. Threats, that seemed to increase daily.

“Bucky is an asshole.” you were on the phone with Sam & the fact that the super soldier had been ignoring him for a while did not leave a good feeling inside his chest.

“What a revelation.” sarcastic comments were part of your life. It was your way of coping with everything. Frankly, it worked. More or less. “Give him some time.”

“More time? No.” sighing loudly. “I have other things to focus on.” he was referring to the mission he was about to perform.

“You sure you’ll be fine on your own?” it was not like you did not believe in his abilities. Just, life had not been the same ever since billions of people came back.

“When have I ever not been?” you could think of a few times but Sam ended the call before you even had the chance to answer. Typical.

Luckily, Sam usually told you about his missions. And you were proud of him. You really were. The situation you found yourself in? With Bucky & him? Well, it was everything but good. Bucky called you. You called Sam. Sam called you. You called Bucky. A circle you kept alive. And it sucked to be their only way of communication. For now, though, both of them were too stubborn to change anything about it.

“Enjoying the Tunisian sun I hope?” whenever Sam went on a mission, you had him call you after it. Simply because he knew you worried.

“You know it.” in the far background you could hear him working on something.

“Is everyone alright? That trainee of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Torres.” he sighed, frustrated by your question. You had asked him about a million times & apparently, you still had no clue. Truth was, you just liked messing with him. “Redwing is hurt.”

“Naaaw, poor baby.” giggling slightly. That man cared more for a piece of tech than he should.

“Shut up.” okay, better not mess with Wilson if it came to Redwing. Got it.

“When are you coming back?” your voice turned serious again. Having him gone for so long did not stick right with you. Obviously, you knew he was doing it for the greater good. But still. “I swear to all the Gods, if you say when we’re done here…” mumbling quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

“When we’re finished here.” a chuckle could be heard from his side. By the way it sounded, you assumed Torres was laughing as well. Rolling your eyes at his antics. He could be such a child sometimes.

“Oh, fuck off, Wilson.”

“Hey, language!” Sam had fun. Yeah, you were the one cracking jokes all of the time but he could deliver, too.

“Okay, you know what? Bye. Text me when you’re back.” now, it was you who did not give him enough time to respond. After all, he would have clapped back with another snarky remark & you were not in the mood for it. At all.

“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.” everyone chuckled at Sam’s description. Of him. Steve. Rhodey was standing right next to you. In that suit of his. The one that made him look way more approachable than you. No need for people to approach you. They did not know who you were before. And they sure as hell did not need to. It would turn things complicated. Humans did not like complicated. You did not like it. “The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we’re in. Symbols are nothing without the women & men that give them meaning. And this thing…” he paused briefly, let out a short chuckle. The shield. “I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol. But it’s more about the man who propped it up, & he’s gone. So, today we honor Steve’s legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you.” the crowd erupted into cheers. Applause was filling the room & you felt out of place. What was he doing? When Sam asked you to join him here today, he left out the fact that he wanted to give away the shield. The shield Steve had trusted him enough to own. And the people surrounding you? They…celebrated him for it? This entire speech was proof enough that Wilson was worthy of this job. So why the hell did he make that decision? Watching the shield being put into the showcase, you could hardly hold in the tears that formed at the corners of your (Y/E/C) eyes. Rhodey nudged you, sensing that something was wrong. Head hanging low, you ignored him, walking out of the room as fast as possible. If you stayed here any longer, Sam would have bruises for sure. Bruises caused by you. You would not risk that. Though, he kind of deserved it.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Sam asked Rhodey when he finished with the press. You had told him you would wait here for him. There was no sign of you.

“Left a while ago.”

“What do you mean “Left a while ago.”? Did she say where she was heading?” why did you decide to leave? Had anything happened while he held his speech? All Rhodey could do was shrug. An explanation was not given by you. And he knew better than to ask.

“Take a walk?” Rhodey suggested, completely unaware to your weird behavior. The two of you were not that close. So he did not know you like Sam did. You were an adult, after all. If you wanted to go somewhere without asking someone first, then you were allowed to do that.

Disappointment was flooding through your body. Friends told each other stuff like that, right? So why did he keep it a secret that he planned on giving away the shield. With that action, he broke Steve’s trust & you were livid. If only Steve were here right now. You missed him. So much. Next time Sam met you, you could not promise anything. Because anger was all you felt. Anger & disappointment. Grief. But that one you could keep to yourself. At least for the time being. Shit. Bucky. One hundred percent did he watch Sam giving away the shield. Oh, he would be filled with hatred. Compared to that, you were only a small threat. Bucky was the one Wilson should keep an eye on. Well, he had been trying to get a hold of him. So far, without luck.

A gunshot blasting woke Bucky up from another night invaded by nightmares. His changed hair did not put his demons at bay. His look was different but there were some things he could never get rid of. His past. The past he dreaded as much as you did. Probably what you two had in common. Being part of HYDRA & all. His breathing was irregular & there was no way in hell he could go back to sleep. It was in the middle of the night & he hated himself for relying on someone else. But he would go insane if he did not call another person right now. If he did not call you. The only one who seemed to understand what he was going through. The only one who never judged him because of his nightmares. The only one who made him feel like he was a good person. Not the killer he once had been. When HYDRA controlled him. Back, when he was called “The Winter Soldier”. Would he ever move on from that? Grabbing his old phone, he did not overthink too long & dialed your number. One, he knew by heart. Because he had called you so many times. It stuck in his head.

“Buck? Is everything alright?” concern was present in your voice. Usually, when you got a call in the middle of the night, it was him. And you were fine with it. If he trusted you enough to help him with his demons, than you were more than happy to come to his aid. No matter the time.

“I-I…it’s just, ugh, I-“ still shaken up from his nightmare, you did not need him to finish his sentence. You had been in this exact situation so many times. You knew what he needed. Your presence. Your voice. Your comfort. You.

“I’ll be there in a few.” assuring him, you were already grabbing the stuff you needed & walked out of your apartment. Only one destination in mind. Him. “Do you need me to stay on the phone?” it was a simple question. A stupid one, too. Usually, he would not say a word until you were with him. But it felt right to ask him what he wanted you to do. Needed you to do. When he did not answer for a few moments, you guessed he only nodded, not realizing that you could not see his motions. Yet, he did not hang up. Neither did you. Your breathing was enough for him. At least until you were in his apartment.

Knocking softly, as to not wake his neighbors, the door opened almost immediately after. Squeaking ever so slightly. Taking in his appearance, you could tell that it had been a bad nightmare. No, not a nightmare. A memory. You knew that because it was the reason you woke up most nights as well. If it were not for him feeling miserable, you would have drooled by the sight of him. No shirt. Hair sticking around so beautifully. Eyes you could lose yourself in. But it was not the right timing. Besides, Bucky & you were just friends. That was it. Just friends. Though, you would lie if you said that you did not feel butterflies whenever he shot you one of his charming smiles. Whenever his body brushed against yours on accident. Yes, he did have that effect on you. Hell, that was not what he needed right now. Your feelings could be dealt with later on. Bucky was all who mattered now. There was no conversation. No words exchanged. It was enough for him if you were with him. A sign that he was not alone. That he still had you. Even after everything. Even after calling you, night after night, disturbing your own rest. Not that you got much to begin with but he did not need to know that. It had always been a mystery to him. Why you stuck around still. Though you had assured him thousands of times that you were in this for good. If he needed you, you were only one call away. And he appreciated you for it. More than he would ever like to admit. Friends. You were friends.

“So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” another session with Dr. Raynor. Another dreaded session. It was stupid to Bucky. But there was no way out of this. He had to. Seconds of silence went by before she spoke up again. “James, I asked you a question. Are you still having nightmares?” what kind of question was that? A stupid one. That was for sure.

“No.” simple, short. Sufficient. Not for his doctor, though.

“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying. Well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?”

“No.” what an answer to move this session forward. Clearly, he was not in the mood to talk today. Not even you were able to get his mind off of things. Though, you definitely made his night easier.

“You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…” her hand motioned stabbing. Awful action but who were you to judge? Bucky nodded with that look on his face that showed how completely done he was with this situation. Yet, she kept going. “It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.” well, it was worth a try. After taking a deep breath, she grabbed the pencil, ready to start writing into that notebook of hers again. “Oh, come on. Really? You’re gonna do the notebook thing? Why? It’s passive aggressive.” looked like the two of them were going back to the roots.

“You don’t talk. I write.” Bucky sighed at that. He knew he would not get out of this.

“Okay. Okay. I crossed a name off the list of my amends yesterday. Don’t worry. I used all your three rules. Senator Atwood. She was a HYDRA pawn for years. Helped her get into office when I was the Winter Soldier. And after HYDRA disbanded, she continued to abuse the power I gave her.”

“So, rule number one, you can’t do anything illegal.”

“All I did was give some intel to the aide to convict her. And I wasn’t involved in anything else.”

“Rule number two?”

“What was rule number two?” his gaze drifting off, showing he thought about it deeply. How ironic.

“Nobody gets hurt. It’s a big one.”

“Then why isn’t it rule number one?” he did have a point there. No room left for arguing about that. “I didn’t hurt anybody. I promise.”

“And what about rule number three?” Bucky’s mouth opened, yet, nothing came out. “The whole point of making amends is to fulfil rule number three.”

“You know, you’re a cynic, Doc. Of course, I completed rule number three. I am James Bucky Barnes & you’re part of my efforts to make amends.” words followed by that smile of his. That smile everyone could tell was fake. Almost creepy. But efforts, right? It was all about the efforts.

“So, you did it all right, but it didn’t help with the nightmares.”

“Well, like I said, I didn’t have any.” Bucky Barnes, everyone. Still trying to fool his doctor.

“Look, one day, you’re gonna have to open up & understand that some people really do want to help you & that they can be trusted. People like (Y/N).” the mention of your name made his eyes snap up.

“I trust more people than her.” it sounded more like he tried to convince himself more than anyone else.

“Yeah? Give me your phone.” an order. Grabbing it out of his pocket to hand it over. A short look was enough. “You don’t have ten phone numbers on this thing. Oh, & you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships. I am the only person you have called all week. That is so sad…Oh, that’s not right. You called (Y/N) last night. Anything you wanna tell me about that?” closing the flip phone, she threw it over to Bucky which he caught with ease.

“What? Do I need to justify calling a friend?” chuckling & shaking his head slightly, he brushed his hands over his thighs.

“If you call that friend at 3 am, then yes. Because you should sleep at that time. Except if you had a nightmare which you claimed that you didn’t.”

“We just talked. That’s all.” he thought that brushing it off as if it were nothing was enough to get her to shut up. Hell, he had brought you up during his sessions way too many times. After all, he still wanted the situation between you guys to be subtle.

“You’re alone.”

“A minute ago, you said I had (Y/N).” he tried arguing but his attempts failed.

“You’re a hundred years old. You have no history, no family…” right, pouring salt in the wounds. That usually worked.

“Are you lashing out at me, Doc? Because that’s really unprofessional, you know? When did that start? Yelling at your clients?” she seemed to have enough & again went for the little book next to her. “Oh, the notebook. That’s great.” sighing deeply, he braced himself to take her more seriously. “All right, give me a break. I’m trying, okay? This isn’t…This is new for me. I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know? I had a little…calm in Wakanda. And other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years.”

“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?” he had an answer in mind right away. Never ever would he say it out loud. It took him a second to reply. Because what he was about to say came in union with his first thought.

“Peace.”

“That is utter bullshit.” what a nice way to bad talk his answer. Maybe she was expecting something else from him. Maybe she knew the answer just as much as he did. The real answer.

“You’re a terrible shrink.”

“I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies, & I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone…”

“Which I’m not because I have (Y/N).”

“…that is the quietest, most personal hell. And, James, it is very hard to escape. Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back, you are being pardoned. I mean, these are good things. You’re free.”

“To do what?”

Wednesday. Bucky usually went to Izzy. Today, he asked you to join him & Yori. Why he wanted you there with them? No clue. But it was not often he asked you to go somewhere with him so you agreed on meeting them there.

“Take a look.” Yori was a cute, old man. Reading his newspaper like a good citizen. Bucky had yet to give you an explanation as to why you were here right now. But for now, you just sat next to him, quietly observing your surroundings. “Nobody made it past 90 this week.” it was funny, to see Bucky trying his hardest to sound interested. Like he understood.

“So young. Such a shame.” his words made you scoff. Apparently, once you hit the 100 mark, you turn into a sarcastic piece. If you were not one before. If you ever made it to 100? Only the Gods knew what would come after that. Most people called you a sarcastic asshole now. Could that be topped?

“You guys didn’t order the usual, huh? Feeling a little adventurous?” the woman behind the counter directed her words at the three of you.

“Um, actually, I’ve never been here before, so…” you chuckled to avoid the awkwardness that would sure as hell build if you kept quiet now.

“You should ask her out.” Yori leaned over to Bucky & you almost choked on your food at his words. Bucky asking her out? Her? Yeah, she was beautiful & all. But her? Really? Seemed like that Yori dude did not know Bucky as well as he claimed to. You, on the other hand, were aware that nothing good would come out if it. Besides, they would not even make a nice couple. Shit, were you jealous? Oh no. Glancing over at the man next to you, his face showed just how much he despised this idea. At least something.

“Mm-mmm…” shaking his head frantically, he shot you a quick look but before his eyes locked onto yours, your gaze fell down to your plate. Slightly embarrassed. Scared that, if he looked at you, he would notice something behind your look. Something more. Something, that you wanted to keep hidden. For everyone’s sake.

“He would like to take you out on a date.” oh fuck off, Yori. You had nothing against this man but he was pushing your buttons. Could he not see that Bucky was incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date? With her? “Maybe to bingo or a night of pinochle.” hiding your laugh behind one of your hands, you could not believe that he was serious. Bucky & bingo? Well, it was for old people so you guessed it fit quite well. Not with her, though. Oh no, you really were jealous.

“I’m really sorry about him.” Bucky apologized for his friend’s behavior. Yes, you were sorry for him, too.

“Why are you sorry?” of course, now the woman was flirting with him. It got better & better. Taking a deep breath, you tried to keep your emotions at bay. You could not lash out in the middle of this restaurant, after all. Even though you were this close to doing just that. Deep breaths, you got this. “I’m game.” sure she was.

“Wow.” really? Bucky was impressed? By this? Oh come on, why would he settle for less when he could have so, so much more. But it was not your decision. He was not yours. You did not own him. Neither did you make the decisions for him.

“Tomorrow night, then?” Yori leaned over the counter.

“Tomorrow night’s great.” she replied with a bright smile.

“Hey, I just remembered something.” you spoke up all of a sudden. Bucky’s eyes met yours now & he saw that you were uncomfortable. Though, he could not pinpoint why. “Um, I-I need to go. See you, Buck. Bye guys.” sprinting out of the restaurant, you hoped nobody would follow you. Not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. All you wanted was to be alone right now. Your mind the only one keeping you company. But your mind was not really the kindest to you. Not in this particular moment. So what? Bucky had a date. You knew that would happen sooner or later. He was a good looking man. More importantly, you just wanted him to be happy. Genuinely happy.

Fucking great. Who could you talk to? You still were not done being mad at Sam. And now you were mad at Bucky for something he did not even do. He sort of did. He could have said no. If he really did not want to, he could have said no. Bucky was enough of a man to speak his mind, you knew that. Maybe he did want to go on a date with her. What was her name again? Not that you cared too much. But still. Blinking away the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes, you kept on walking. Without a real destination. You were stupid. Friends. Why could you not accept this? Usually, you would call Steve in such a situation. Or even Tony. But it was too late now. They were not here anymore. You had to deal with that sooner or later. Whether you liked it or not. Contemplating calling Sam, you eyed your phone carefully. One more button. But nope. The anger was bigger than the need to talk to someone. Stubborn you. Wilson could make you feel better. But you would most likely end up yelling at him. And you knew you would regret your words later on. So might as well stay silent for the time being. Until you calmed down enough.

It was 10 pm. Date time for Bucky. That same restaurant. Being the gentleman that we was, he even brought her flowers. Like it used to be back in the 40s.

“Well, if that’s not the most adorably old-fashioned thing anyone’s ever done.” Bucky felt lost. In her company. “Grab a seat, I’ll be done in a few.”

“Okay.” he could up & leave. It would not be too late. All he knew was that it felt wrong.

“So, have you dated much since half the fish in the sea came back?”

“Not really. I, um…tried the whole online dating thing. (Y/N), the girl who was here with me yesterday, she set up a profile for me because I didn’t understand a single thing.” laughing at the memory, he thought back to when he called you to ask you for a favor. How you laughed at him for wanting to try this whole bullshit. “It’s pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures.”

“What kind of weird?”

“I mean, tiger photos? Half the time I don’t even know what I’m looking at. It’s…It’s a lot. When I showed (Y/N), she simply said that this was what I signed up for.”

“You sound like my dad.” definitely something a man did not want to hear while on a date. On the other hand, he did not even want this to be a date. “Wait. How old are you?

“A hundred & six.” only he could make it sound so casually. Like it was the most normal thing on this planet. Both laughed at his words. Simply because it was so absurd.

“What’s up with your big gloves?” a sensitive topic she just touched.

“I, um, have, uh…poor circulation.” sure thing.

“Hmm…Hey, what is it about this (Y/N) girl & you?” his eyes widened at her question. What was she getting at?

“She’s my friend. Why?” his dumbfounded expression made her chuckle.

“A friend, huh?”

“Um, yeah.”

“You sure about that?” an eyebrow raised. A questioning stare was sent his way.

“Why does everyone think I don’t have friends?” throwing his head back in frustration, he let out a long sigh.

“It’s not that.” she stopped briefly, thinking about her next words carefully. “Just, you guys seem pretty close.”

“Well, we’ve known each other for years.” he reasoned, gesturing with his hands to bring his point across.

“Yeah? And the looks you’re shooting each other when the other one’s not looking?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You two aren’t really subtle about this, you know?” she wiped the counter & did not even look at Bucky. He, on the other hand, started sweating.

“Subtle about what?”

“Oh, come on. Who are you kidding? I don’t even know why you’re here right now.”

“Because Yori set you & me up on a date.”

“And why did you agree?” she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an explanation from the man in front of her.

“I-I don’t know.” he responded truthfully. Because he thought it to be polite? Because Yori was the one who suggested it? Honestly, he was not sure.

“That’s what I thought. Look, you’re a nice guy & all but…just, listen to your heart from time to time. It’s late. You should head out. See you.” she turned around & walked further into the restaurant. Leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. It was clear what she intended. Did not mean that it made this entire situation any easier. Bucky left without another word. Fresh air would help him think straight.

Your phone rang & you sighed when you checked who decided to annoy you. Bucky. Of course. But wait. Should he not be on his date right now? Did something go wrong? Not that you wanted it to but if you were entirely honest, you would not be mad about it either.

“Hi Buck. What’s up?”

“I need your help with something.” there was no hesitation in his voice. Just him being straight forward.

“Please don’t tell me you need help on how to get the girl.” it was your way to lighten the mood. You did that because you could tell that he was incredibly serious. Usually, this was never a good sign.

“Can I send you an address? Can you meet me there as soon as possible?” his voice was low, deep.

“Um, sure thing. But just to set things clear…I won’t join in on your fun, Buck. That’s between you & her.” again, sarcasm was your way of coping with emotions. Though, it was not the right time to use it right now. His next words were proof enough. You should not mess with him. Not in this moment.

“Can you be serious for a second?” he raised his voice a little. It was not much but it was enough to leave you confused. Bucky was not the person to yell at you. Especially not like this.

“I’m sorry…Um, yeah, tell me where & I’ll get there as fast as I can.” gulping down, you waited for him to give you more information.

Arriving at an unfamiliar building, you could make out Bucky’s form in front of it. Why would he want to meet you here? Where was his date?

“Buck?” your voice barely above a whisper. The night sky only illuminated by the moon that shone brightly. Providing just a tiny bit of light. Enough, to let you notice your surroundings.

“Thanks for coming.” you could tell that he was stressed, tough, you were not sure why.

“Is everything alright? Because I swear, if that woman did anyth-“

“No, she didn’t. Promise.” his warm smile was encouraging enough. It was clear that he was not lying to you. “Just…didn’t work out. But that’s not why you’re here.”

“Okay?”

“My last nightmare. Do you remember?” nodding for him to continue. “How I killed that innocent man?”

“It wasn’t you, Buck. You were being controlled.” touching his shoulder softly, squeezing it to reassure him.

“Whatever…That guy, it was Yori’s son. I want to, need to, apologize. Even though the apology comes way too late.” you nodded at him, your eyes meeting his briefly. Now you knew why he called you. He did not want to do this alone. No. He wanted you by his side. To support him through it. Entering the building together, Bucky led you to the apartment Yori lived in. His hand raised to knock on the door. Surprisingly, he did not waste any time. He wanted to get this over with. Understandingly so. No words were exchanged. You being here, with him, that was more than enough.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Yori opened the door, his face showed confusion by the appearance of you two. “How was the date?” you could not help but roll your eyes at the old man in front of you. Looking at Bucky, you were worried when you saw him having an internal conversation with himself. Mouth opening & closing again. No words coming out. Risking a look inside the apartment, you noticed a small picture frame with who you assumed to be his son. The one Bucky killed. No. The one the Winter Soldier killed.

“It was…It was good.” Bucky mumbled.

“Bullshit.” you followed after. None of them heard you, though. Luckily.

“Forgot I owed you for lunch.” Bucky handed him money. If you were not mistaken, this was not a form of apologizing. He had a hard time, though, that much was obvious. Afterwards, Bucky turned around & walked away without another word. Which left you alone with a confused looking Yori.

“I’m sorry for the disturbance, sir. Have a good night.” plastering on the sweetest smile you could offer, you followed Bucky outside. Jogging to keep up with the super soldier.

Back outside, you saw Bucky holding his little notebook in his hands. You knew about it. Because you were the only person he talked to when it came to his therapy sessions. A look over his shoulder could tell that his eyes were trained on the name being circled. His body was tense. That was not what he planned.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” your hand stroked over his lower back in a comforting way. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, hoping, that it would ease him a little. You could feel him calm down at your touch. “Give yourself some time.” you mumbled quietly, knowing he could hear you clearly due to the calm night. You just hoped that he would not beat himself up too much. Not more than he already did.

You were back in your own apartment. Still no words from Sam. But that was nothing new. Sometimes, he would go radio silent for a few days but after that, he would always check in with you. Maybe he figured that you were mad at him. For giving away the shield & all. And he probably was busy with work. The work he did with Torres. If he needed your help, he would call you for sure. Your TV got your attention again. Something told you to watch closely. So you did.

“Unrest, in the wake of recent events, has left us vulnerable. Every day Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense & our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” the crowd cheered loudly & someone walked through the door. You could not believe what was happening. Please, this had to be a bad dream. When would you wake up form this hell? A man, wearing his suit, holding his shield, greeted the people. Looking at your hands, you could see small, blue sparks forming at the tips of your fingers. That only ever happened when you had no control over your emotions. Right now, you were everything but in control. Of course he had to wink at the camera like the sick person he was.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” breathing out lowly, you put your head into your hands, completely ignoring the sparks there. You did not feel them anyway. If you ever met this son of a bitch it would not end well for him. And the next time you would meet Wilson? Fingers crossed he could deal with your angry & disappointed self. Because you were seething.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/02/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @taina-eny​, @tanyaherondale​, @cool-ultra-nerd​, @toribentleyva, @buckyandlokirunmylife​, @annadier​, @howlongtillidie​, @mizz-kraziii, @theetherealbloom​, @millenniumloki​, @marvelbros-oneshots​, @ajbwasnthere, @bilesxbilinskixlahey​, @mystictimetravelcolor​, @dbrees256​, @sxpxrnxturxl, @dreamydreamerwriting​, @dolllstyles​, @angelicastiel​, @prettysbliss, @infinitelyforgotten​, @sweetserendipity65​, @lilystilinskicullen​, @partypoisonsblog, @btdsprayberry, @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​, @deamus-liv​, @simplybarnes​, @sethcohenluvr (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Devout Worshipper: Dark! Peter Parker x Professor!Reader

A/N: So this girl here tried something else. I’ve been wanting to upload since long but this got delayed a lot and now I have several WIPs but finished this first. Sorry not proofread. I’m still discovering my writing style and my forte and thank you for staying and witnessing my experiments! Wear safety goggles please.

Summary: The best of all the educators yet, both smart and stunning, became Peter’s mentor in university. Peter grew too much of a liking for her, from a clingy scholar to her devout worshipper.

WARNING: STORY AHEAD HAS NON-CON, KIDNAPPING, POSSIBLE DRUGGING, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOUR, OBSESSION. DNI IF TRIGGERED.

You sat on the teacher’s desk, going through the latest thesis published by Dr. Banner last week. He had given you one of the several copies and asked you to go through it and your judgement on it. The classroom was slowly filling in as the scholars stacked in, their buzzes growing loud with each passing trice.

You were on the last paragraph of your current page when a slight thump made you break out of your stupor, you tilted your head up to find a brawny youngster leaning in front of you, with his hand planted beside your ass on the ebony desk. He had blonde locks with grey eyes and was definitely a sports’ team captain, basketball you believed, who had his own posse of wannabes behind him.

You kept the paper down in your lap and met his eyes again with an inquiring look. “Yes?”

“You seem new. Me and my guys will save you a seat at the back, so come there when your little reading session is over, babe.” He said smugly, his eyes brimming with mischievousness as they dipped to your cleavage not-so-subtly and stood there gawking while he awaited your response.

You paused to see the whole class had gone quiet watching your encounter with the jock. You gave him a sickly-sweet smile as you nodded shyly for show and he tapped your knee with his other hand before leaving. As soon as his back faced you, you rolled your eyes so hard at his antics you heard the first-benchers gasp. You could still hear him talking to his ‘friends’, “I love myself a badass girl like her.”

You returned to your thesis but before you could finish the last few sentences, the bell rung and you had to stop. Thanks blondie.

You got down from the desk, jumping on your black heels as you made your way over to the door, closing it as lock clicked into place.

The entire class was watching you with quizzical glances as you stood in front of your desk this time and wrung your hands together, “Good morning class and congratulation on making it to your second year in college, I will be your mentor and also your lecturer for biology for this semester and for those who pass, also their next one.” The entire class’ jaw slackened and you giggled lightly as waited for them to digest the news, and then told them your name.

“I know a lot of you see science itself as a chore but since you’ve already taken it, I suggest you try to pay attention as you will have to study it anyways. However, because I can relate to your struggles, I will try my best to be a companion or advisor, whichever way you prefer it, and help you get through the class with flying colours hopefully. So, ask me anything, no matter how stupid or absurd you believe your doubt or query is. I’ll answer as many times as you ask and trust me when I say that I am a woman of my word. You have any questions for the semester?” You finished with a bright smile on your face as you saw the students in the front relax slightly. At least you had their approval.

“Ma’am” The blonde kid started without raising his hand, stressing the word unnecessarily as he and his horde sniggered at some stupid inside joke, and continued, “Can I have your number?”

Some of the students gulped while the others leaned forward interested in your response. That kid thought he could fluster you by putting you in a weird spot. He smirked arrogantly, leaning back in his chair as you raised your eyebrows.

“That, Mr.?” You paused as you lingered for his answer, which came almost immediately.

“Flash Thompson, but you can call me whatever you want baby.”

His friends hooted at his pickup line, some praising his smoothness while some high-fived him.

“That, Mr. Thompson, is an excellent example of the stupid questions I mentioned formerly. Thank you for helping me make it clearer to the rest of the class, an extra point for you in the first grading assignment.”

His face fell as his jaw ticked and you turned to face the rest of the class again, “Though I suppose I will give you my number but for emergency purposes only, you can contact me on my e-mail though which I will be using most frequently. You are supposed to mail me majority of your papers this semester and the grading pattern is expected to change this time around but I will inform you of that when the time for the first assignment comes around. Any other questions, and if possible, a bit wiser ones?”

Peter knew he liked you that day. You were attractive and stunning, yes, that too in the natural way, without make-up and tight clothes. But of course, there was more to you than that, you were smart and witty, hence a young lecturer in this esteemed college and you being a science enthusiast as well was like chocolate chips on top of a well baked dessert. You were spirited and jaunty and your sardonic and sassy replies were never degrading or humiliating. The five-year difference between you and the class made you their elder sibling rather than professor.

The first benchers worshipped your intellect while the last benchers adored your sarcasm. Everyone could see how you gave your all to teach, every trick for learning, showing real skeletons and organs in formalin, easily becoming the favourite mentor ever. You could easily be labelled as the university’s crush of the year.

But Peter soon began to despise that. The perverted comments by the students and jealous, snarky remarks by the plastics irked him. He was enraged by the geeks admiring you but baffled all the more by the strange palette of emotions he had never suffered before.

The sheer envy he was sinking in had never even surfaced while he dated Liz or MJ. For him you were a Goddess, tons divine than his exes or any other female for that matter, who should be properly worshipped and treasured.

He knew these sentiments weren’t right, but in this twisted world where he had combatted with unnatural beings and seen unimaginable horrors, he began to believe morality is just fiction used by the herd of inferior men to hold back the few superior men.

It was the last day before spring break and no matter how much your pupils loved you, it wasn’t enough for them to not get distracted and murmur around. Only half of your entire class’s strength came and that half somehow managed to create more ruckus than usual. Even you were minutes late, not in the mood to teach this aloof and uninterested batch of youngsters.

You sat on the table and crossed your legs, which was somewhat your habit that you weren’t really proud of but continued to indulge in nonetheless, and cleared your throat times to catch the attention of the unmindfully fantasizing students.

The baritone of the males and shrieky pitches of the females made you clutch your head. You were sure going to end with disprin at the end of day. You clapped loudly and effectively so, gathered the class’s attention, but by the roll of their eyes and glares on their faces, you deduced they weren’t happy. Who would have thought?

“Okay, before you all slaughter me to the netherworld with your lethal gazes, let me make it clear that no teaching will commence today.” The class hollered appreciatively and whistled, while you paused to let them do so. Teaching on the last day before a vacation was like speaking to yourself only but with the consequence of your name being added to several hitlists.

“I’ll distribute the graded assignments submitted last Thursday and then, since I’m required to clock thirty minutes of educating at the bare minimum, we can play something, maybe you have some talents to show, principles to mock or some gossip to attend to.” The college kids laughed at your poor joke, perhaps too thrilled for their break that nothing could make their mood sour. “We’ll see accordingly, but first, raise your hand when I say your name, I want to learn at least the names of the students who bothered to come to uni on the concluding day.”

You distributed the papers back, making sure to associate each name with a face and the students took them stuffing it straight inside, not bothering to check their scoring and possibly wreck their mood.

“Peter Parker?” A hand raised in the second last row shyly, a flustered boy with glasses on his nose and a hoodie covering his head. He barely made eye contact and you smiled at his nervy, edgy form hoping to ease him a bit. Your heels sounded heavy against the few stairs as you made your way to the back, the class buzzing with laughs as students barely paid you any heed.

The draught of epinephrine Peter felt was unlike anything he had ever felt before, nothing like the anxiety on the battlefield or the excessive sweating while impressing Mr. Stark. The apprehension he felt was decuple that.

It’s not like he had never talked to you afore, he constantly asked clever doubts, which he knew the answer to already, of course, to make an impression on you, but that was with a two feet and 7.5 inches of teacher’s desk in between. Yes, he measured. He had even made sure a couple times, let’s be honest, more than several times that his Goddess had arrived her fascinating abode safely.

But this time, they’d be hardly half a foot apart and the anticipation was tearing him apart. He did want her close, in all ways possible, but was he ready enough to not make a fool of himself? All his previous conversations were thought out meticulously and beforehand but was ready for a spontaneous interaction?

“Good job, Smart Cookie.” You mused at Peter with a wink and dropped the paper on his desk as he looked at you with those innocent, doe-eyes of his, his cheeks and nose a tad bit rouge.

Peter’s hearing ability got lost as the sound of his heart pumping blood filled his tympanum. He could only watch you retreat back to the front of the class, your hips swaying invitingly in that damned black pencil skirt as you called another person’s name.

Smart Cookie was his favourite nickname now.

It was pretty late when you left the university premises, finishing up all you had to and even preparing for your first week of teaching after vacation because you knew how procrastinating errands went.

You couldn’t almost believe how you were on the adult end of things, making sure and guiding other people. With the job, came a lot of obligations that you had to fulfil and being responsible was hard, really demanding. You suddenly had a lot of reverence for all the teachers in your life, from kindergarten to your degrees.

You were on a sabbatical from research temporarily, signing a teaching contract for three years minimum and you were satisfies with the refreshment. Interacting young, curious minds was almost like a recreational activity you indulged in free time and the various angles they approached science at even taught you something. The scholars found it in themselves to even question well-established biology.

Slightly humming, you made a mental checklist of what all was left to do for your solo, self-discovering trip the next week. All that you should pack, clothes according to the weather in the hills and enough emergency eatables. Maybe you could revisit the work-in-progress papers of yours or maybe it would be a leisure excursion only.

Only you never made it to your flight.

 The pounding of your head made a thrumming noise in your head, increasing its tempo and volume with each passing instant. Your eyelids felt heavy and opening them felt like a chore, which even more difficult considering the light that flooded your vision with every bit they opened. Your senses felt overwhelmed being burdened and strained with their everyday tasks after what you assumed to be at least hours of inactivity.

The sudden spike of pain shooting in your head made you jerk your hand to clutch your throbbing forehead, only to fail and find your hands bounded to something. They weren’t cuffed or shackled, nothing dug in your wrist either. Maybe a rope but the texture wasn’t rough enough. After what felt like minutes, you opened your eyes and sat up, as straight as your confined self could, and looked around.

The room was shades of grey and blue, a giant bed was where you were sitting. The giant ceiling to floor windows beside you, cast enough moonlight in the bedroom for you to see the entire bedroom. The view outside was so picturesque, that you had been gawking were you not afraid of your surroundings. You could discern you were high up, with how small the vehicles looked and another wave terror ran through you.

A white desk with a blue chair had a laptop atop it, also sitting beside several books. You would have noticed them being your subject and recommendation but you were scanning your brain as to how you landed here. With your vision now clearer, you saw your restraints to be like silk but no matter how hard you pulled, they didn’t snap.

You were full on panicking and staring wide eyed when the laptop entered your vision again. There was no other electronic except it and you calmed yourself to think rationally. Deep breaths, in and out. Your best bet right now was to hope that the laptop was connected to someone’s wifi.

You slid off the edge of the bed and tried to cut the weird silk ropes with bedside table’s corner. It took some time but you succeeded, your hands freed from the poster of the bed as you made your way towards the laptop, after checking the locked door of course.

Another wave of panic ran through you when the laptop wasn’t connected to anything and all available connections were password protected. You noticed the laptop to be brand new, and of a very expensive company that was out of your budget. You also noticed the OS was very different, not the usual Windows you ran. Your AI Cortana in this overpriced gadget, was named Karen.

You still refused to wait for your captor to show up and snooped to find something on the laptop, anything. There was no profile of the owner but you did manage to find at least three GB of videos and images.

Your hands froze and eyes widened when you saw the security footage of your building’s outside, the little bakery’s neon sign confirming the location. The videos were the same, of you entering and exiting every day, just the dates on the videos varied.

Another folder had clips with the same dates, but they were in the lobby of your apartment, your potted plants outside your door the affirmation again. It showed you getting milks and newspaper every morning, ordering take out several days and placing the garbage bags outside.

The earliest date in each folder was after your first month of moving here, second week of teaching probably.

When you opened the third folder, as the video started your hands covered your mouth as you tried your best to hold back the sob and making a noise. The screen showed two camera screens, both inside your apartment. The first showed the living room clearly and your kitchen and you concluded it to be behind some article on the bookshelf.

The other screen showed your bedroom.

You could still see the floral bedsheet with the white quilt atop it. Your red suitcase that you took out from the storage for your trip this morning, resting beside the wall. Your lamp switched on from when you mayhap left it on, already late for the last day of work. As the time hit 12 AM at the bottom of the screen, the video ended and played again. There were even more folders and you wondered how far would the surveillance go, till your bathroom?

Your abductor had live footage of your house being sent to his laptop and that scared you shitless. This was not a random crime, that ransom could end. You were here for something, some sick purpose you didn’t even know. Was this a hate crime? Would you even make it-

“I really wish you hadn’t looked there.”

The deep, familiar voice amplified your fear and you turned your head slowly, almost comically to look at him. Another gasp escaped your lips as you found warm eyes of your student and brows furrowed in confusion and fear when you saw the deranged lust in his eyes. Was this some sick prank?

“What am I doing here and what is this?” You gestured to the screen playing footages of the inside of your house. Seeing someone familiar and the probability of this being a prank should have calmed you somewhat but the revolting trick and the strange darkness in the boy’s eyes made you even more wary.

As he took a step closer, you hastily climbed out of the chair and backed away, nearing the bed again as he locked the door and closed in on you. He made a move to snatch you and you jumped to the other side of the bed barely missing him by an inch. You reached for the door hoping to find it unlocked but it didn’t even budge.

You pulled even harder while being painfully aware of how that kid from your class just sat on the bed and observed, having the utmost confidence in the door. Your frenzied state got a jump-scare when a female voice broke the silence, “Authorization to access locked doors is granted to Mr. Parker only, please refrain from damaging the property, Mam.”

So some tech-boy with a rich background is set on you?

“Please sit on the bed and I’ll explain, please.”

His doe eyes would have fooled you were you not extremely aware of your environment due to the adrenaline coursing through your arteries. He was an exceptionally good actor, you had to give him that. You prided yourself to be an excellent judge of character and here this guy had deceived you for three months.

The AI called him Parker, what was his name again?

Patrick? Peyton? Peter? Yes, Peter Parker.

“Peter?” You softly called out and his eyes widened as a blush crept up to his cheeks as he relished the fact that you remembered his name. You sighed internally, praying that this was a case of a harmless crush gone wrong and he was just innocently hopeful. The image of his dark, lust covered eyes crossed your mind to make an argument but you pushed it aside to calm your nerves and stay as relaxed as you possibly could with all that was happening.

“I know that this is all a big misunderstanding but you are really scaring me here. Can you please at least let me out of this room to somewhere open?” You looked at him, hoping to talk him down and get out. You didn’t think he would hurt you but you weren’t willing to take any chances with this maniacal youngster either.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that, you’ll run.”

Of course, you’ll run, who wouldn’t?

“Peter, boy, listen to me-”

“No, you listen to me! I admit the situation isn’t ideal and you’re probably terrified because of your meddling but this is all for you! I’m here to protect you! The world out there isn’t safe and your heavenly self needs to be resuscitated.”

“Peter, you’re not making any sense. I’m an adult, older than you and you need to understand boundaries-”

“I’ve seen the way of the world, trust me, in fact, far more than you have! Did you know that raping and murdering women on Asgard is considered a common crime? How Hydra is kidnapping young, bright women to exploit them for breeding projects? How the Red Skull resurfaced and his ideals now include eradicating women from Earth as well?”

“Pete-”

“No, you don’t know! You are just blissfully unaware of this world, so oblivious you don’t even how know the perverted and debauched comments your own class makes?”

His outburst frightened you as you felt yourself losing control of the situation, maybe you never were in control. But now the unleashed fury on Peter’s face told you that had triggered an irrevocable topic.

“Calm down, it’s alright.” You said quietly, hoping to ease him again but his steps towards made you back up yourself to the other side of the bed.

“You, You are still scared of me, aren’t you? You still don’t understand, do you? I’ll show you, show you how much I worship you, the true extent of my devotion.” Every ludicrous declaration of his bit away your hope of getting out.

As he approached you again from the foot of the bed, you jumped across the bed again, hoping to reprise your stunt from before. However, your jumping halted midway as something glued your right wrist to the headboard and you jerked due to inertia of movement. As your eyes looked to your hand, the same silky rope met your vision.

You did not have the time or the wits to ponder over the fluid, about how your abductor shot it or how it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled. A hand on your ankle prompted you to try one last time as you screamed as loud as you could, for as long as your lungs allowed.

“It won’t work, Mr. Stark got me a soundproofed apartment. Pretty cool, right?”

A sob wracked through your entire frame as the tears descended, the frustration and hopelessness and dread, all attacking you at once. Your legs kicked and flexed and when your left fist swung, he restrained all your limbs after dodging, of course.

“I just want to love you, is it too much too ask?” He asked in a quiet whisper, his hands undressing you cloth by cloth; first unzipping the side of your pencil skirt and unwrapping it, then unbuttoning your blouse. When he brought out a pocket knife, your eyes instinctively closed, a “Please don’t hurt me” falling from your lips.

“Never.” He replied with absolute assurance.

The blade cut through your blouse first, leaving you in your garments while Peter sat back on his knees to admire you. You’ve been flattered with the adoration in his eyes had you not gone through the mayhem that you had.

His hand caressed your curves, feeling the soft skin underneath as he took his time admiring you, committing each feature to memory while your tears poured, your eyes never leaving the knife he held.

The blade invaded your privacy once again as it took away your last pieces of defense, leaving you utterly nude and your cries wreaked havoc in the otherwise quiet room. Your eyes found Peter face and you noticed his eyes twinkling in admiration trailing up and down your body several times. His disciple complex was scaring you, you almost bordered considering his Goddess belief.

“So stunning.” He whispered as he came down to kiss you, his lips meeting yours in this bruising embrace of both your mouths and as he began to undress himself simultaneously, his dramatics became the least of your concerns. The thought of the inevitable future made home in your mind and gave you one last bout of courage to try and fight.

The restraints on your limbs didn’t even budge and every fleck of hope deserted your body when you saw the chiseled abs on his scarred torso, his biceps bulging and silently warning you into staying put. He made quick work of his remaining outfit and his hard, angry member was bigger than you had anticipated.

You had not expected a stereotypical nerd to be packing, with muscles and brawns, hardly to even expect him to be the largest among the ones you had ever experienced.

“Please don’t.” You mumbled, defeated, knowing he would not listen. You closed your eyes expecting the intrusion to get it over with. You were caught off handed when you felt him shift and devour into your pussy. He feasted like a man famished, his tongue leaving no area unlapped. The sparks in your abdomen made you queasy and giddy at the same time, you could barely open your eyes due to the intensity of his actions and when he added two of his shockingly calloused fingers, you let go of the coil in mere seconds.

Your limbs sat limp while your vision whitened, your mind foggy and hazy, deprived of all sensibility. When his thick thighs rested on top of yours, your gaze ascended to meet his already staring pupils, the warm, honey brown orbs now a black abyss. You couldn’t even protest in your blissful state as lined himself and entered your cavern, which was lubricated enough courtesy of him.

The stretch burned but as he rocked himself and thrusted with a rhythm, the pleasure started building from scratch. Each push was sturdier than the last and every spot he hit managed to make your breath hitch. Your hands and legs freed as the fluid perhaps melted but the last of your energy was being used by you to stay conscious. When he descended to kiss you once again and trailed kisses to your collarbone, your hands held onto him for support, his biceps providing anchor to you, made of pure muscle.

His teeth bruised your skin as he lightly bit your neck, reaching his end and releasing his load. The warmth that filled you made you let go, his orgasm encouraging another one from you.

Your eyes drooped, your body filled with exhaustion due to all the struggling as you curled in to your side and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to forget your abductor and the forceful, mind shattering ecstasy you felt. Your refused to think about the guilt and the uncertainty of your impending doom in the hands of this maniacal student of yours. You just wished for sleep, for some peace alone.

The wish of yours was not granted when you felt Peter slide behind you, his hand wrapping around your middle as if you were lover. You still gave into slumber, but not before feeling him peck your shoulder with a promise.

“This devotee of yours will worship you forever and always, Goddess.”

[make-me-imagine]

Daffodils: New Beginnings

Valentines Special: Day Eight

Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   //  Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus - Day Nine: Red Roses (link to post with all endings listed)

Plot: The reader keeps receiving flowers and sweet messages every day from an anonymous source leading up to Valentines Day. But who is sending them?

Choose your own character ending (coming on Valentines Day).

Gender!Neutral Reader x ???

Triggers: Brief mention of fighting        Words: 1,569

Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​​, @thebookbakery​​​, @groovyfluxie​​ Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394​​​, @gaitwae​​​, @fablesrose​​​, @kitkatd7​​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​​, @beksib​​​, @destynelseclipsa​​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​​, @snarky--starky​​​, @saintbootlegloras​​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​​, @empath-bunny​​​, @okkulta​​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​​  , @anonymous-pls-dont-click​​​ , @username23345​​​, @hulkswitch​​​, @theofficialzivadavid​​​, @lainphotography​​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​​, @normanijauregui​​​, @goinggoinggonzo​​, @mxxnmocha​​, @euphouriaszn2​​, @trikruismybitch​, 

February 13th

"You sure you’re alright?” Wanda asked as she watched your rub your shoulder. 

“I’m good, just a little sore.” you said reassuringly. 

You had been called out on a mission with Steve, Wanda, and Natasha to check out a possible hit on a SHIELD office. You managed to catch the assault team before they made it into the building, but a fight broke out. When you were fighting one of the men, he pulled you down a short flight of stairs, you banged your shoulder pretty bad, but it seemed to be alright now. 

You were riding back to the tower now, sitting in the back seat with Wanda.

“You should get your shoulder checked out when we get back, just in case.” Steve said, looking at your through the drivers mirror. 

“Is that an order Captain?” you asked with sarcasm as you leaned forward, talking to Steve over the seat. 

You could see him smirk at your question as he peaked back at you “If it has to be, then yes.” 

You smiled in amusement as you sat back in your seat “Yes sir” you said, saluting, making Wanda chuckle and Natasha and Steve smirk at your response. 

Doing just as he said, you had your shoulder scanned in the medical wing once you returned. But finding no real damage you went back to work. Entering into the large main room, you staggered back as a man carrying a large box passed by you when you came through the doors. Looking around you saw a bunch of people walking around. It took you a moment before you remembered that they were the people hired to set up the Valentines party.

This room was going to be the main room for the party, tables set up for the dinner and a stage in the front for the entertainment. Seeing through the large doors to your left, you figured that would be where the dancing would take place. 

Looking around, you could tell the color scheme was going to be gold and red, classy, but a bit gaudy in some areas. You saw Tony walk through nearby doors, explaining something to one of the decorators, turning, he spotted you. Leaving the decorator with a last instruction he walked over to you. 

“So, what do you think so far?” he asked as he stood next to you, motioning to the room. 

“No chocolate fountain?” you asked with sarcasm. 

You saw his eyes light up as he snapped his finger “A chocolate fountain!” Turning to one of the nearby people, he got their attention “Any chance of getting a chocolate fountain?” 

You rolled your eyes “Tony, that’s too much!”

“No no, it’s a good idea” he said to you before looking back to the other person who began writing something down “And get some skewers, fruit and marshmallows, it can be like a giant fondue station.” 

“That doesn’t sound very sanitary” you said with a frown.

He hesitated for a moment “No, it’ll be fine, we’ll put up a sign, no double dipping” You shook your head with a laugh as he turned fully towards you “So, how’d your little mission go?”

“Fine, we stopped the assault, arrested all of the members, Nat and Clint will be questioning them.” 

Tony opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted as someone called him from across the room “Go ahead, I’ve got to get back to work anyway” you said as you parted ways. Leaving the room you felt anxious again thinking about the party and what would happen. Trying to shake away the anxiety, you got back to work. 

- - -

You managed to distract yourself by working the rest of the day, and now you were sitting at the kitchen bar in the public part of the tower. Public meaning it could be accessed by all of the Avengers. 

“Hey” Wanda greeted as she wandered in “What are you doing in here?” 

You smiled at her and lifted your hand in greeting “Just finished work, I’m waiting for the rest of the party planners and decorators to leave for the day, they are constantly using the elevators and stairs, filling them with people and stuff.” you chuckled. 

She sat down next to you “Yeah, I couldn’t even get to the elevator in the first place” she chuckled “How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s good, no pain anymore.” you responded “So, are you looking forward to Tony’s party?” you asked her. 

She shrugged “Not particularly. I’m not one for crowded parties.”

“Me neither, but Tony will never get over it if I don’t show up, you too probably.”

“Oh yes I know, he told me so himself” you both chuckled. 

"Tony and his parties.” you commented just as the doors opened. Clint, Steve and Natasha walking in. 

“Ah, there you two are. “ Clint said as they made there way over to you. Clint and Steve sat at the bar with you and Wanda as Nat moved behind the bar. 

You sat and talked with the others for a while, about today’s planned attack, about who they were hired by, and then about Tony’s party. You started to feel the now familiar anxiety rise in your chest. Making yourself yawn, you feigned drowsiness before rising “Alright, I need to get some sleep.” you said, knowing that, though you were tired, you might not be able to sleep anyways. 

“Goodnight” Wanda, Nat and Steve said as you began to leave.

“Hey” Clint said.

Turning back to him you rose your brow. “Did you get any flowers from your secret admirer today?” he asked with a smirk.

“Ooh, yeah I almost forgot about that” she smirked as she looked at you. Wanda and Steve turned to look at your as well. 

“Uhh, no, but I haven’t been back to my room since lunch, soo”

“Soo, maybe there will be something now?” Nat said with a smile. 

Saying nothing you just smiled, cocked your head and then spun around, leaving in silence. Hearing chuckling from the others behind you as you left. You had actually successfully been distracted to the point where you forgot about the flowers. 

Luckily all of the decorators and planners had been long gone, so you could make your way to your room easily. As you stopped at your floor, you braced yourself for what would be on the other side, feeling a sense of familiar excitement. 

As the doors slid open, your eyes were already trained on your door. And placed at the bottom, was a tall bouquet of pale yellow daffodils tied together with white silky ribbon, a note dangling from the side. 

Quickly making your way to your door, you unlocked it before picking up the bouquet and going inside. This was the last bouquet you would get before learning who was behind all of this tomorrow. Your heart seemed to be hammering in your chest as you stared at the note.

You were almost afraid to read it. You hesitated before setting it down and going to the bathroom. Getting ready for bed, you grabbed the flowers and put them into a vase, a new one you bought at the store. Sitting on your bed, you fiddled with the note in your hand. Slowly opening it, you psyched yourself up a bit before you began to read the note. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Daffodils

Daffodils mean “New Beginnings”. I chose these because tomorrow will be the start of a new beginning for the two of us. No matter what happens. I, of course have my own wishes of how tomorrow will go, and I am sure you do as well. Perhaps you have your own desires of who I am, and I hope that I do not disappoint you when you find out who I am.

I have so much more I want to write, but cannot seem to put it properly into words. I’m sure we are both nervous about tomorrow, but I do truly feel as though we are meant to be. And though I cannot see the future, I know tomorrow will be the start of something new, and I can only hope that it will be great. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Reading over the note a few times you lied back on your bed as you stared up at the ceiling. You had stopped trying to figure out who it could be. Knowing that they were careful enough not to let anything seem obvious. And if you had been talking to them one on one, or when everyone would be talking about the flowers, they were careful enough not to say anything that would make them seem suspicious. 

For a moment, you debated not going to the party at all. And chickening out instead. But you only entertained the thought for a moment before you felt guilt for even thinking it. They did not deserve that. No matter how afraid you might be about what might happen tomorrow, they didn’t deserve to be stood up, especially not after everything they have said and done. But then again, what if they stand you up? What if they change their mind, and you never find out who they are?

You closed your eyes, your thoughts running rapid through every possibility of what could happen tomorrow. Eventually, without really realizing it, you had drifted off to sleep.

xx xx xx xx xx

Sooo, tomorrow is the day!

I will be releasing every ending throughout Valentines Day (10 in total); starting around 5am MST. Let me know if you want to be tagged in any specific endings.

The endings will be: Bucky, Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Loki, Clint, Natasha, Vision and Wanda. 

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing III

A/N: Okay. This one has it all: action, betrayal, confessions, concussions (again), snark, and an ending that is neither happy nor sad, or maybe you make it what you want it to be :) This was so different from anything I’ve written and I want to say thank you everyone for reading it and motivating me to continue loll

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I’m surprised to find Harry on my doorstep this early on a Wednesday morning. At first, I think he’d cracked the case. But he looks like he’d just rolled out of bed, a stubble roughening his usual freshly shaved face. He didn’t look like he had good news.

“You look rough,” I comment. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he blows his cheeks out with a breath. “Ab-so-lutely nothing, literally. I’m hitting a dead end with your case and I feel like shit about it.”

“So...you’ve decided to knock on my door at quarter to 8 and? Discuss the case with me?”

“Well I...not exactly.”

“Did you want to come in? Maybe go through some more of my private boxes?” I ask. I was being petty, making him feel uncomfortable. But I also wanted to just put it out there, so it didn’t hang above us like the rest of our past. The last thing I wanted from him was pity, so if I had to make him feel guilty instead I would own that.

He blushes, just like I knew he would. “M’sorry about that,” he mumbles, looking appropriately self-conscious. “I could do with a coffee if you have some?”

“You look like you need one but...I’ve got to head out soon.”

“I’ll give you a ride in,” he offers. “I...we can just talk about the case. This can be professional.”

My laugh is brittle as I open the door to let him in, like a stray I knew I would regret. “Nothing about this is professional.”

He walks right in through to my kitchen--he knew where it was by now. I put on another pot and the awkward silence settles in. This was exactly how my friends described interactions with their exes, I guess I was truly living the life of a divorcee and it was all very mundane.

“So, did you have a guest over?” He asks. I raise an eyebrow and he motions to the two cups sitting on the table.

I roll my eyes and pick them up, “Great observation skills, Detective.”

“It’s my job,” he rolls with the sarcasm, cracking the ice we’d found ourselves in again. He takes a seat at the table and begins, “So the group that hit your bank hit up two more in the last week.”

“Two?” I was shocked. So many victims, I almost want to make a Bank Heist Survivor Group for us.

“Yeah,” he accepts the cup I pour for him. I sit across him with my second of the morning. The first I had drank with an on-and-off again guy I’d been seeing for the last few months--Alec. I never really let myself get serious with him, afraid to get hurt I guess. I knew he liked me, and he was good to me, but I didn’t want to make any commitments. This morning was the first time I let him stay for breakfast...after that letter it felt like something changed in me.

The letter...Harry...I focus back on his words as I realise he was talking to me, “...last one they’ve actually put someone in hospital--the ICU. If she doesn’t make it, it becomes homicide and-”

“Homicide?” Once again, I’m shocked. These people were really terrorizing the banks, and the police had no leads. Or at least that’s how Harry made it seem: “Any leads?”

“Um, I probably shouldn’t say-”

“So that’s a no.”

He looks up sharply before a small embarrassed smile softens his gaze. “Nothing serious.”

“That sounds like a load of useless shite you lot are doing at the station. Three banks and you’ve got nothing?”

He avoids answering, taking a sip of his coffee. “There are some leads, but the group’s really good. I just--I feel like there’s something staring me right in the face but I can’t see it.”

“What’s new?” I raise an eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head as he busies himself with the coffee. “What? I’m not joking.”

“This,” he gestures to me. “This snarky Y/N is a bit of an adjustment. I know you like your sarcasm, I just haven’t had it directed at me in a while.”

I cross my arms, maybe I needed to dose up my attitude so he knew I was 100% serious. When he catches on, he sets his cup down. “They’ve hit your bank up first yeah? I feel like there’s a reason for that, some personal connection maybe? Have you guys turned down anyone for a loan or anything recently? Someone that might want to target your bank first?”

“I’d have to check,” my mind begins to go over anyone we’ve had come in recently with issues.

“Oh!” He jumps in his seat. “The client you were meant to see--did you talk to him? I was going to ask you when you came to pick up the evidence but...”

“I was too busy to go.” I finish his sentence for him. “It’s weird actually, I called and got voicemail. I also emailed to apologise and reschedule but his office is away, I only get automated replies that they’re out of office or something.”

Harry pulls out the notebook he uses and asks me to write down their information, I was sure I’d written it down for him already but I write it a second time. I push the notebook back towards him, and he places his hand on top of mine instead of taking it back from me. I freeze, his large hand familiar and yet, heavier than I remembered.

“What are you doing,” I ask.

“I...want to apologise. For the other day.”

“Please let go of me,” I stare at his hand on mine.

“If I can just say-”

“Let go,” I say, slower. He clears his throat and removes his hand.

I pick up my mug, and move to the sink. Harry realises he’d overstayed his welcome and gets back up, throwing his jacket over his arm and hovering at the edge of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says awkwardly. “And letting me think out loud. Should I um, wait outside?”

I remember I’d forgone getting to work on time on my own for his coffee and case updates. Fuck, this was going to be awkward. “Sure, I’ll just grab my things.”

He waits on my front stoop, talking on his phone and once he’s done we walk silently to his car when I join him. The silence in the car is deafening. I watch his hand twitch to the radio but he rests it back onto the steering wheel without turning it on. After a few more moments of silence, he speaks up.

“So uh, did you want to ask me about what you brought up...the day you came to pick up the evidence? You said you had questions?”

“Are you serious?” I look at him, incredulous. He really was incredibly thick if he thought I wanted to have this conversation now, after this morning.

“What? I’m just trying to make conversation and you’re the one that wanted to talk about it so-”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I only want to talk to you about the case? What makes you think that’s a good topic right now?”

He shrugs, and I once again pray that the other people on his team were smarter than him because if he was the lead, my case was going nowhere.

“Can I just ask one question?” He tries again. I almost want to slam my hands on the dashboard but I sigh through gritted teeth instead and tell him he could. “Did you...ever actually read the letter? Last week...you sounded sort of surprised when I mentioned it.”

“I...” I consider lying. but I go for the truth which is a change for us. “I didn’t.”

“Oh,” he sounds dejected.

“I read it last weekend.”

“Oh,” he says again, slightly hopeful. “But this whole time...you didn’t know?”

“That’s another question.” I didn’t want to go into what I thought of him this whole time. “I only agreed to one question.”

“Fair enough,” he taps the steering wheel. We’d managed to get stuck in some traffic. “So that box I sort of looked into the other day...”

“I said no to more questions, Harry.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he says, neatly catching me in his trap. I glare at him, but his cheeky smile tells me he was slightly enjoying pushing my buttons. I make a mental note to never accept a ride from my ex-husband ever again.

We fall silent, and the letter plays through my mind again, I’d reread it a few times before I tucked it into my bookshelf. I’d decided after that, to take The Box and tape it up. I wrote my sister’s address and left it by my front door to mail out when I had the chance. It was time I let it go, I realized. My sister was having her third child, and I was so happy for her. I had people who loved me, and people I loved. I realised that I was holding on to the box and it was just torturing myself. I had enough torturous things in my life, I didn’t need to be one of them.

It feels like forever until Harry pulls up to the curb down the street from my building. I thank him properly, not wanting to be a complete bitch.

But as I walk around to the sidewalk, he calls my name. I turn back to him standing outside his car with his hand outstretched.

“You forgot this,” he holds out my umbrella. I sigh and go back to take it from him but he holds onto it.

“Are you going to let me have it?” I tug again.

“Yes,” he lets go and I have to balance myself on my back leg. “Thanks for taking me in this morning. And for the coffee...you didn’t have to, yet you did.”

“Don’t read into it detective,” I scowl. “It was purely to get more insight on the case.”

“Right,” he smirks.

“But since you had no insights, it was a waste of time.”

“Don’t say that so loud,” he hisses. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m not telling the people something they don’t already know.”

He narrows his eyes and grins, and my heart skips a beat. It was a familiar look, he used to look at me like that all the time. And I realise that maybe I’d just been flirting with him a little, albeit aggressively but...I drop my smile into a neutral expression. He notices the change and drops his own grin.

“I spoke to my supervisor and I’m going to set up in an empty room if that’s alright. I wanted to interview some of your staff, see if they had any clients who might want revenge by-”

“You’re coming in today?” I feel like he’d just pulled some sleight of hand trick on me, driving me to work only to come in with me. “I don’t know if my staff wants to talk.”

“It’s an investigation, they all agreed to further questioning when they gave their statements Y/N, I’m not going to be invasive. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

“I have no choice do I?” I turn around and begin walking up the street. He follows me in.

And surprisingly, I barely notice him in the empty conference room until after lunch when he comes in to tell me he would be back later, that he had to drop by the station for something his evidence team found.

I make a few rounds to my staff, make sure Harry didn’t disrupt their peace. That they were still okay after talking about the thieves. Being on the floor, my eyes continue to dart to the door, eyeing each of the customers.

I lock myself in my office for the last hour, channeling the nervous energy to get work done. It’s a few minutes before closing that I get the email. I rush to open it: the client I was meant to see finally responded.

Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N,

We apologise for the delay in our response, our offices have been closed for the last week blah blah blah. We’re very sorry to hear about the events that occurred in your bank. As a loyal client, we would like to extend our sympathy...

I skip to what I needed to know:

To respond to your inquiry about the meeting we had scheduled, there doesn’t look to be anything on our end. I’ve spoken to the advisor personally, he had a flight out of the city that exact date so he wouldn’t have booked a meeting at the same time. I think this could be an error on your end but do let us know if there’s anything we can provide to help...

I sit back from my screen, my thoughts racing. I read it again to be sure and bury my face in my hands. I read it a third time to be sure.

Adam had specifically told me the meeting was at 10am sharp, the client threatened to switch banks if I didn’t attend. But if they never booked it...I actually had no reason to be there.

Except I was the only one who had access to the vault.

I stand up in a rush, this was an inside job! Someone I worked with knew who robbed this bank, they worked with them! Harry was right, the truth was staring at us and it was so obvious!

I take out my phone and text Harry: call me, the client for Thursday just got back to me...he wasn’t in the city that day?  I think about adding more, but I didn’t want to freak him out. This could be a big misunderstanding, and I didn’t want him to come here only for it to be nothing. I place my phone on my desk and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

I walk out of my office, most of my staff had cleared for the day. Two of them deal with the last customers, but my eyes are searching for Adam. I had to ask him more about this client phone call, what number had they called from? Was he sure it was from the correct offices?

But Adam is nowhere to be found, which was weird because he worked until 5pm.

I move to the staff room, but stop in my tracks when a familiar voice chills me to the bone. I knew the voice, it was the same distinct voice that haunted my thoughts for the last two weeks.

I peek around the corner, Adam and a muscled bloke stand right outside the staff room. My shock catches itself in my throat as my heart plummets; the inside man--it was Adam. Adam had betrayed us all. Shy, awkward Adam. Suddenly I remember all of his jumpy behaviours since the robbery, and all his questions about security before. I just thought he was trying to learn more about the bank. Little did I know...my blood boils but  I have to put aside my own feelings of betrayal when the conversation grows louder. I strain to hear.

“The phone and the fucking card are missing, you better not be the reason we’re found out!” The muscled guy with the voice jams his finger into Adam’s chest. Adam looks scared shitless.

“I swear, I looked through the evidence they returned. I-I gave you the phone back! They haven’t said anything-”

“But that one detective was sniffing around here this morning? That’s why you texted me right? What did you tell him huh?”

“I didn’t say anything, he hasn’t even talked to me I-”

“That’s right. Make something up, a crazy customer from the day before some shite like that. If you even look suspicious to him, I’m going to come over to your flat for a nice dinner and invite my friend with me.”

My eyes bug out when I see him shift his jacket to reveal the hilt of a gun. Fuck!

I reach down for my phone but I don’t have it, double fuck, I think. I left it on my desk after texting Harry. I was an idiot, a big big idiot.

I try to soften my footsteps as I walk away from the staff room but the conversation must have ended because their footsteps echo on the tiled floor. I push into the nearest door and lay flat against the wall inside. I’m so focused on listening for their voices that I don’t realise I stepped into the men’s room.

“-before I leave..” to my horror, their voices stop right outside the room I’m in. I look around and realise I was in the men’s room. My instinct is to hide in a stall but this was a one-toilet bathroom, there was absolutely nowhere to go.

In slow motion, the door in front of me opens and the muscled, gun-owning guy looks right at me. It feels like a Western showdown as we lock eyes and freeze.

“Hey...Adam,” the guy calls out to Adam who must’ve been behind him. Adam peers around his shoulder and tenses when he notices me. “She’s in the men’s room! Isn’t that weird?”

“I-Y/N...she usually uses the men’s room.” Adam tries to cover for me but my deer-in the headlights expression is enough to give away that I knew who he was. I was trapped in here like prey. Adam lowers his voice, “C’mon, just leave her here and go-”

“She’s seen my face though,” He steps in and I inch into the corner.

“Look, I can forget your face. We can pretend this never happened please, I really really don’t want to die in a men’s room.”

Tattoo laughs, untucking his gun from his waistband. “I don’t believe you. Adam, get some tape so we can tie her up. I don’t want blood on my hands but if you make any noise, I’m painting this room fucking red.”

I keep my mouth shut, and nod. I’m reliving the worst day of my life all over again as I stare at the barrel of the gun. A small part of me wonders how my life could hang in the balance of this man’s fingers, twice, but I stay silent.

“There’s nobody here, everyone’s gone home.” Adam says, more to me. Tattoo pushes me against the tiled walls and pats me down roughly. I protest but he pushes the gun against my skull and I fall silent. Adam tries to step in, offering to make sure I didn’t have anything on me like my phone but I was stupid enough not to have it on me. His friend steps into the hall and makes a call, I assume to his crew.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Adam’s voice breaks as he pats me down gently. I turn to him, with tears in my eyes. I was scared, and I needed Adam to get help. “Adam please, please don’t do this. Whoever he is, the police can protect you I-”

“He’s my cousin Y/N, you don’t understand he will kill me if I go against him. It’s complicated--my family’s complicated. I’m not like them. Y/N I’m so sorry I swear he...” he falls silent as his cousin comes back in. Adam makes a show of taping my hands and legs. I try to whisper, beg him to try but Tattoo notices and shoves me against the tiles. I think I black out for a second because the next moment, he’s pressing tape down over my mouth. I feel the panic I’d kept at bay blow up in full force, along with an ache in my temples. My breathing comes out short and I squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry. I was going to die in a men’s restroom; this was what my miserable life had culminated to.

I remember the text to Harry then, maybe he’ll come. With backup. Maybe he’ll save the day for once. And I think about security, they surely noticed I never left the building, maybe they’ll go looking for me.

But my hopes are dashed when a woman comes in, I recognise her voice as the one who’d pushed me into putting the code into the vault.

“The side door was unlocked,” she tells Tattoo. She notices me and smirks, “It’s like you want your bank to be robbed. Who leaves the side door open after hours?”

She laughs and turns back to Tattoo, tells him that the guards were down and the place was officially locked up. They bring Adam in, and check with him that he knew where I kept my passwords, that he could clear out any money still left at this time of the day. I don’t hold back then, my tears flow silently down my cheeks as I watch them all leave me in the dark. If the police still hadn’t arrived, I really was going to die here like this. I don’t know when, but I pass out, and when I come to again I’m being pulled up aggressively while a familiar voice shouts at the people dragging me. Was that Harry?

H’s POV:

The one time I leave my phone in my car, I miss the most important text of my entire career--my entire life.

Around 2:30, the evidence team calls me, there was a breakthrough on the phone and card from the scene. A few numbers, but they were still trying to process the application for the records. I decided I couldn’t sit around and wait so I drive to the station and rush inside, leaving my phone behind.

It’s a waste of time though, the number leads to a burner that leads to a local shop that leads to a credit card. And that leads to a warrant which could take hours. Two hours later and I’m frustrated and moody. I decide to get some fresh air, and check my phone but reaching for my pocket I realise it wasn’t there.

I head to my car and find it between the seats. When I turn it on, Y/N’s name stands out and her text pushes me to my feet and into my car. I call her three times on my way to the bank but it keeps ringing. Fuck, I think. What if something happened to her? How was it that it was now a second time I was rushing to where she worked, afraid for her life.

I pull up the closest parking spot I can find to see security locking up. I rush to knock on the door but he only glances me, points to the closed sign, and walks away disinterested. I was in plainclothes today so he must have thought I was a customer. I reach for my badge to show him, and realise I’d left that in my jacket in my car. I couldn’t get anything fucking right today. I bang on the door but he ignores me, and the people outside begin to stare at me.

“I’m a detective,” I try to reassure them but they hurry past. It was stupid but I squint to see if anyone was inside, but there’s not a single soul. I see movement cast a shadow at the very end of the room but I can’t see anything with the way the glass is positioned. I center myself at the front again but the security is gone--I was going to have to find another way in.

I move around the big block of a building, looking high and low for another entrance into the building but the next shop over is a cafe so I double back and try the other way. A wooden door sits between the bank and the purses crowded in the store window on the other side. I try the door but it’s locked. Of course.

I go back to my car and find my lock pick kit, picking up my badge was a good idea. Within minutes, I’m in and a sterile hall greets me. I try the door on the left, but notice the keypad. After some bad guesses, I consider who set this: Y/N. I try her birthdate, her family’s birthdates--as close as i could remember. My feet tap against the tile rhythmically when the door knob turns right in front of my eyes. I dash to the side and huddle in front of the next door, rattling my keys as if I were trying to get in. Luckily, that door is unlocked and it’s a utility closet. I rush inside and peek through the crack; a man comes out and holds the door open while a woman opens the door I just came in from.

“It was unlocked,” she says skeptically.

“Shite security, just come in. When’s Russ getting here? He’s always the bloody last of us anywhere.”

Something was very wrong, I realize. But I don’t have time to think, I jump out of my hiding spot and manage to slide my hand into the closing door. I nearly crush my fingers but I nudge the door back open and slip into the bank.

The area’s clear, I move in to investigate. It’s only when I move from the hidden passage to the main lobby that the weight of the situation dawns on me. A different man wraps the security’s hand behind his back and pushes him against the wall. Push was nicer than what it looked like, he practically drags the guard into the wall.

My shoes squeaks on the floor and he looks up sharply, eyeing the area I was peeking out from. I crouch down, next to the trash bin and wait for his footsteps to leave. When I peer around the corner again, a familiar face paces behind the desks. Adam, I think it was, Y/N’s assistant.

It becomes clear in an instant, like a timelapse of a foggy night clearing into a bright blue sky. It was right in front of my face: Y/N’s assistant. The one who’d asked her to come in for a made-up appointment, the one who knew her exact schedule, the one who was jumpy and nervous every time I spoke with him. I thought he was just a shy kid but...he’d betrayed Y/N and been the inside man for these robberies.

I take my phone out, ready to text someone for backup but voices coming my way forces me to stop what I was doing. I press myself against the wall, trying to make myself smaller.

“I think she’s knocked out-”

“Don’t hurt her,” That was Adam. I recognised his cowardly voice. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without her just, leave her in the bathroom. We can take everything and go.”

“You don’t have a say what goes on around here,” the woman says to him. “Your puny arse is why that detective was sniffing around here anyway.”

“She’s seen all our faces,” one of the guys says. “I’ll do it after you go.”

“She won’t remember, please.” Adam tries again. “Leave the charges at robbery, don’t add murder. She’s my boss I...”

The blood rushes to my head: his boss. Y/N was here, and they were casually talking about killing her? I take my phone out just as it begins to vibrate. I jump and manage to stop it in time, but my badge--the one thing I’d taken from my car purposely, clangs against the metal trash can.

Footsteps rush towards me and I stand up with my hands up, “Backup’s on the way, I suggest you lot put down-” they were all pointing guns at me. Bollocks. “your weapons.”

“That’s the fucking detective,” the one I’d seen tying up security waves his gun at me and I try not to panic. I wasn’t involved with a lot of guns, just the wounds they left in victims. I listen to him swear, “Backup yeah? I don’t hear shit. How did you even get in here?”

“I told you, the door was unlocked. The security here is shite.” The woman says, eyeing me. “I say we tie him up with the bitch and skip out now.”

“We haven’t even taken everything, this idiot doesn’t know the passcode-”

“I told you it changes every week. She must have changed it today.”

“Adam, how could you?” I speak up and all eyes-and guns-are back on me. Adam opens his mouth like a fish out of water but nothing comes out, I watch as he squirms and his group moves closer to me.

“Phone,” the one with tattoos points to the device in my hand. “Check his phone, if he called backup it would be on it.

I curse, they were smart. They’d robbed three banks after this and hadn’t left much behind--I should’ve known to be better prepared.

Someone takes my phone, another comes around and shoves the gun in my back which forces me to walk out into the lobby. They go through my phone and snicker at something. type something in and then toss the phone in the trash can beside us. I balk at the sound it makes when it crashes; the gun in my back pushes me forward and I’m forced to walk down the lobby, through a door and up to the men’s room.

“Wake the bitch up,” one of them men speak behind me. “Tie this one up and get her to open the safe with the new code.”

I knew I was outnumbered, they push me through the door and Y/N’s body is curled in one corner. The freshly pressed clothing from this morning are rumpled around her frame and she looks unconscious. The one who tied up security tapes my hands around my back and pushes me beside the sink.

“Don’t touch her!” I struggle against the arms who hold me back as the tattooed guy hauls her up and slaps her face.

“Wake up, it’s show time.” he shakes her. I push against the body pressing me down as they take Y/N out of the room. Her eyes flutter open and catch mine before she’s dragged out.

“I swear if you guys touch her I’ll snap your neck in half,” I can’t stop the panic turning into rage. “She-”

“Are you sleeping with her or something? Shut the fuck up.” The woman kicks the back of my knees and I fall, hitting my head as I crash down on my knees. She closes the door behind her.

I don’t know how much time passes but it feels like hours. The next time the doors open, they shove Y/N inside and she stumbles. I jump up to help her but with both of our hands behind our backs I accidentally lurch forward and her head bumps off chest.

“God! Harry!” She winces. “Way to hit the one part of my body that already feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Y/N,” I steady her with my chest and lean down to look at her. “Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“Other than terrify, harass, and manhandle me? Oh, and give me another concussion...hm...”

“Here,” I motion with my chin. “Turn around, I’m going to get this tape off of you and you help me.”

She does as I say and I use the sharp edge of the ring I wore to make a small tear.

“Holy shit that’s better,” she shakes her hands out and gets to work on mine. As soon as my hands are free I try the door, there was a slim chance but we were in a restroom. I had to try. But it’s locked. Y/N speaks up from behind me: “They lock from the outside if you have the key--they probably got it from security. I don’t know who I angered in a past life but this is some shitty karma.”

“There’s got to be a way out of this room,” I wasn’t about to give up.

“There isn’t. But shouldn’t there be, like, backup coming?” Y/N takes a seat against the wall, watching me explore every inch of the tiny room.

“I...no. They took my phone before I could-”

“You came here without telling anyone? Even after the text I sent?” She shoots daggers at me.

“Well your text wasn’t exactly screaming danger!”

“I really have no fucking clue how you got your position Harry, surely anyone else would not be this dense.”

“I’m trying to find us a way out of here, this isn’t my fault! And anyway, it is your assistant that’s set this all up,” I say defensively.

“Sure know how to pick the men in my life, don’t I?” She says, but quieter. Seeing her bruised and hopeless there fuels me to look harder for a way our but after a frantic search, there really wasn’t anything in this place. No window, no vent big enough, nothing to pick the lock. I find a first aid that’s mostly empty, but there’s still an ice pack, tape, and painkillers inside. I crack the ice pack and hand it to Y/N who takes it silently, and then I slump down against the wall opposite Y/N and hang my head.

“What do you reckon they’re doing out there?” she asks.

“They were going to clean the place out and skip town.”

“Do you think we’re gonna die here?” she asks, her voice wobbly like she was about to cry. “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just...asking.”

I look away from her face, her expression crumbling under my light scrutiny. She sniffs. Without looking at her I say “We’re not dying here. I told my guys to call me when they have something, and if they can’t reach me it’ll be suspicious enough to followup at least.”

“By the time they grow suspicious enough to track you, we’ll be dead. I’ve not got much faith in your team.” Y/N crosses her arms. Even under these circumstances, she’s fierce.

“They’re close to a breakthrough. It was them calling me that got me caught out there actually. Not even the call itself...my bloody badge clanged against the--it doesn’t matter anyway. But they must have something, they’ll be here soon. We won’t die in here.”

I felt more than hopeless stuck here. Out of the two of us, I was supposed to be the one who could make their way out of this type of situation. Months of training and years of experience, and here I sat stuck in a bathroom with the woman I gave up on.

“What a way to go,” she sighs. “In the bloody loo.”

I want to go over and put my arm around her, maybe I needed the comfort more than she did. But based on the way she crosses her arm and keeps her legs up I know she’s guarding herself. I could read the signs. So we sit there silently for who knows how long. Every so often a muffled noise comes from outside, we hear a crash but the silence after doesn’t tell us whether the thieves had left or they were still around.

With Y/N going mute, I look around the room again but there’s still nothing. She slumps further to the floor, and I seat myself back down again. I stare at her, remembering the shape of her face under my hand, the curve of her hips when my fingers traced them. Her laugh, the way she liked to tease me. If I was dying here, and this was my life flashing before my eyes...I sure had missed out on a lot of it. And if the robbers decided to come in here, and put a bullet in each of us, what kind of person had I even been?

A new surge of energy goes through me, I take the slim door handle and try it again. I know it wasn’t going to open but I tug it, again and again. I brace my foot against the wall and try and try again. But it remains stubbornly closed.

Winded, I sit back down. Y/N just watches me silently as the hope officially leaves my body. We sit in silence.

“Are you happy?” she asks after a few minutes. I look over at her bruised forehead, she raises an eyebrow and immediately winces. I reach over--in the small space, even on opposite walls, she was an arm away. I guide her hand with the ice over the bruise.

“I don’t know,” I admit, leaning back against the wall. “Why?”

She shrugs, going silent. I stretch my legs out and she mimics me, finally letting down her guard as her legs rest beside mine. I give her another minute, and she responds. “Your letter, you said you left because you weren’t happy. So I’m just wondering...are you happy now?”

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?”

“Well, it would make you falling in love with another woman and breaking my heart in the process a little easier to accept...it wouldn’t have been for nothing if you’re happy.”

“You sure have a lot of tact,” I sigh.

“We might die here?” she fixes me with an annoyed glare. “There’s no time for tact when I could get closure? Before I die?”

“We’re not dying in here,” I promise but she shrugs like she didn’t have much faith in me. And why should she?

“Don’t avoid the question: are you happy?”

I give myself a moment, taking in her face. I didn’t know how to answer that without the overwhelming shame and guilt choking me. In a way, yes. In others, no. I settle for, “Sometimes.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” she hits her foot into my knee. “Sometimes? You cheated on me, and dumped me for a sometimes?”

“Okay wait,” I stop her. “I want to get something straight, I never cheated on you--”

“You did! You fell for some woman a-and you literally married her not even a year after we split!”

“Y/N,” I grow serious. She had thought that this whole time that I... “That’s not how it-” I let out a breath, truly realising what she thought of me this whole time. “Y/N, I fell for someone, sure, but I never even went out with her before we split. Nothing happened! It just took falling for someone else to make me realise my heart wasn’t in it--with us. It made me see I wasn’t happy where I was. But I-I went on one date with that person after we split and it was awful. She avoided me at work after that.”

“What?” she furrows her brows. “So-so who the fuck did you marry?”

I almost laugh, but it would be so inappropriate. “Someone else I worked with-”

“Wow, Harry, you really know how to get around.” She crosses her arms.

“I never denied that--you knew me in uni.”

A small smile cracks her guard but she covers it with an eye roll. “That’s the only thing you’ve said all day that’s actually made sense.”

“It’s nice to see you smile,” I say which earns me a glare. I saw it coming, and that makes me smile. Her glare falters at my smile and she covers her face with the ice pack. I continue, feeling more confident to explain. “Anyway, it was this other person from work, we’d worked on a few files together and she was actually the one who asked me out when she found out I was single. I felt like I had a strong connection with her--to be honest I think I was just lonely and h-um,..y’know. Mistook that for a gem, and married her.”

“I always thought you married the woman you fell for. So you could have a baby.”

I have to laugh at that. “I didn’t want a baby that badly--with someone I barely knew at best.”

She shrugs, “Well we were so tumultuous after we found out our chances were low and you were such a bitch to me about that so what else was I to think?”

I feel like an arse all over again. “I was an idiot, a big fucking idiot Y/N.”

“When did you realise?” She leans forward. “Cuz I’ve known that for years now.”

I rub my face with my hand, she was never going to make this easy. “I thought having a kid would make me happy, make me feel complete; it was the missing thing in my life. So when I realised our chances were low, it just killed my hope of ever being happy. Honestly I think even if we got pregnant I would’ve still been unhappy. I was just...using that as an excuse to..break us apart. It was never about you, I was just too cowardly to admit that I was going to hurt you if I told you I wanted a divorce for the real reason: because I wasn’t happy.”

“So...you made me feel like a fuck-up for not being able to get pregnant instead?”

“I...yeah,” there was the waves of shame crashing into me, I was drowning in it. Y/N just sits there, I can feel the judgement and hurt rippling off of her as she pieces everything together. “I feel awful about that. You really didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Her tightened fists tell one story, but the tears pooling in her eyes tells a different one. I slide closer to her, crossing my legs in front of her. “There’s nothing I can say to even begin to apologise for that. I should have just been honest, told you I wasn’t happy in the relationship, in my job, where my life was heading. But I let you believe it was somehow your fault and I can never take that back.”

She continues to watch me, her mouth a tight line as she tries not to cry. But with a blink of her eyes, the tears are streaming down her face. I reach out to her, out of habit, but she shrinks away. So I move back to the opposite wall and watch miserably as she cries into her sleeves.

“I was still unhappy, after the other marriage.” The only thing I can do is continue, I didn’t want to watch her cry in silence. “It took me finding her flirting with another bloke at work to realise we were a farce. I split with her, quit my job a few weeks later, and it was only then I felt free. It was a good feeling; the closest to happiness I’d felt back then. And then I lived with my sister for a few weeks while I figured out my next steps. You should know she was fuming when she found out we split, she didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

Y/N had wipes her tears by now, and listens to me talking in silence. When I mention my sister, she smiles. “We talk, here and there. Never about you, but I still keep in touch with her. And your mum. We had dinner when they were in London last year, it was really nice.”

“What?” This was news to me. “They never mentioned it.”

“Obviously not,” a smile pulls at her mouth and I’ve never been more relieved to see it. “They like me better than you.”

“Ouch,” If we got out of this--when we got out of this, I had questions for my mum.

“So,” she traces a crease on her trouser. “you switched jobs? Found the right fit?”

“Yeah, I did really good there. Moved up quickly. I found something I was passionate about, and it felt good. I think I was happy until...recently.”

“What happened?”

A shout from the other side of the door gives us pause, the door bursts open and I quickly move to block Y/N. But someone pushes an unconscious body into the room with their hands tied. With three bodies in here, it’s suddenly overcrowded.

“If you say one more thing to me, I will put a bullet in his fucking head...” The conversation fades out as the door slams and they walk away. Y/N rushes past me to the body and turns it face up.

“Adam,” she gasps. I walk over and her assistant lays there with a black eye and bruises forming all over his face. She unties his gag and I make sure he’s breathing.

“He’s alright, Just unconscious.” I let her know as she pulls off her jacket and piles it under his head. “He is the one who let these people into your life, you remember that?”

She glares at me, “He didn’t have a choice Harry. I spoke to him when I gave him the code--one of them’s his cousin. He said they were going to break in one way or another and if he didn’t help they would shoot him and me during the process.”

“He had plenty of time to tell you after the fact-”

“Have a little compassion,” she throws her hands up. “He didn’t ask to have a fucking criminal family. Just, let’s wait for him to wake up. He’s been through a lot.”

“So have we,” I mumble but she doesn’t acknowledge me. She moves to her wall instead, putting her hand to her head.

“Let me see,” I slide myself towards her and move her hand away from the area. I pick up the ice she abandoned on the floor and hold it to her head but she snatches it back, saying she could hold it herself, right before she pitches forward and passes out herself.

Y/N’s POV:

I wake up confused and groggy, only to see Harry’s face hovering above mine. For a second, I think that maybe I was living in a twisted Groundhog Day type of situation, forced to relive the bank heist until I resolved things with Harry. But then I notice his split lip and remember my life was that unlucky that I was in the same position twice.

“Jesus, you’re awake.” Harry lets go of my hand which he’d been holding.

“It’s actually just Y/N,” I try to crack a joke. It flies past his head, his eyebrows pinching together. He asks me if I remembered my name, where I was, and a dozen other questions even though I insist I was fine. I was laying down with my head in his lap, I realise halfway through the interrogation. But trying to get up made me dizzier so I stay. He shows me the paracetamol he found in the first aid and forces me to down two, and I only agree because my head had started pounding.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he pushes my hair back. I try not to focus on the warmth of his hand on my skin, how nice it felt. I was bloody delirious. “You have to stay awake Y/N, this is the second time you’ve hit your head I think your concussion might be more serious this time if you’re passing out--”

“Harry please,” I put my hand up to stop his rambling. “Your voice is hammering at my migraine.”

“Sorry,” he smooths down my hair again, and again, like it soothed him more than it soothed me. “I’m not used to feeling so useless like this. But there’s absolutely nothing in here that’s going to help us get out. All we can do is sit tight and wait for one of them to come back.”

“So finish your story,” I ask. “You said you were happy until recently. What happened.”

He looks at me skeptically but I insist I wanted to know. I was finally getting the full story, the closure that actually made sense. And I wanted all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

“The box,” he says simply and I flinch because I know exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, seeing you and realizing-- this whole time it’s like, I’ve missed you in the peripheral y’know? And seeing you that day, forced me focus on how much I missed my...best friend. And after that, the box? I realized what I did to you...the impact of it? Maybe I was just daft this whole time for not really thinking about it but-”

“I was pregnant,” I blurt out. If I was going to die, I may as well tell him. “A few weeks before our...breakup. I found out. And I was going to tell you. I was-I was just so excited I’d bought some things prematurely. But then I lost the...baby. I’d just boxed the shite away after that. Carrying it with me...it hurt but I almost believed that I deserved it?”

I watch him swallow, from this angle I can see the muscles in his jaw clench. I reach up and my hand lands on his neck, I move it to rest on his chest where I intended. He looks down and I see the tears coat his lower lashes. I think I was half-drowsy from the pain meds but I want to cry with him, and wipe his tears. A distant part of my brain screams at me for being confused and slightly fucked up, but my medicated brain reach up to pat his face. My heart flutters when he closes his eyes and leans into my palm.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He whispers.

“Would it have made a difference?” I ask, my eyes drifting shut. But he shakes me rudely and they fly open.

“Stay awake.” He insists. “And...it wouldn’t have made a difference but at least you wouldn’t be carrying it alone.”

“Well I’m not, anymore.” I yawn. “I told you, and you seen it. And m’gonna mail the box to my sister--she’s pregnant by the way. She might have better use for it.”

He eyes me, “How did that make you feel?”

“You’re not a bloody therapist,” I laugh. “Don’t ask me that.”

“I think I’d make a good therapist,” he says over-confidently.

“You’re the reason why I had a therapist,” I mumble. “You’d be an awful therapist. Your patients would need therapy from therapy.”

I laugh, it wasn’t even that funny but everything just felt ridiculous. Harry’s smiling down at me, but a loud crash from outside wipes it. His body tenses, and I watch the door.

“Sorry,” he whispers before gently moving my head off his lap and onto his jacket he’d bundled. He picks something up from beside him--the toilet seat.

“Why are you holding a toilet seat?” I whisper-shout. He puts his finger to his lips and crouches on the side of the door.

“You were passed out for a while, I had time to make a bit of a mess-”

He cuts his sentence short as the door opens and Adam’s cousin comes in swearing at Adam but before he can reach for him, Harry slams the toilet seat over the guy’s head. I watch it all sideways, my head feels too heavy to pick it up. The man crumples on top of Adam, and Harry expertly searches him, picking his gun off of him.

From outside, the woman’s voice come closer.

“What’s taking so long? The car’s outside just grab your stupid cousin let’s go! The cops will be here any min-”

She freezes when she comes face to face with the gun in Harry’s hand. She reaches for hers and in half a second, Harry’s fired his gun into her arm. She lets out a shout and falls to the floor. Harry kicks the gun out of her hand and pulls her inside, blood trailing in her wake. He uses the jacket under Adam’s head to tie her arms and comes back to me.

“Y/N, let’s go. I hear sirens.” Harry bends down and gently lifts me up. I feel like a ragdoll in his arms but I manage to prop myself enough to walk beside him. He closes the door behind him and checks the handle that it was locked.

He helps me down onto a chair, the brightness of the lobby nearly blinds me, my migraine tearing my skull apart. I think I throw up on the floor, I felt entirely out of it. I keep my eyes closed, but I hear Harry letting in some people, and I feel arms putting me on a stretcher, taking me out into the cool air. The fresh air smelled incredible, and that’s the last thought I have before I pass out.

***H’s POV:

It was a crazy 24 hours.

Right before I’d been shoved into a 7′ by 5′ restroom, my team at the station had received the warrant for the credit card. That was the call I received that put me in the tiny room with Y/N. When I didn’t pick up, Detective Cole had taken the lead in tracing it. The credit card belonged to Adam’s cousin and they eventually traced him to Adam. That was the smoking gun for them, they tried me a few times. Finally, tracking my car to outside the bank. Suspicious, they sent out a few uniforms here and when they noticed my car sitting empty, and no guard at the entrance, they called for backup.

I’d debriefed, spoken and written out in detail, what happened. They’d taken pictures, handcuffed everyone in the bathroom, and I’d watched triumphantly as they walked the criminals out. Two had escaped after hearing the sirens, but at least two would be put away.

I drink my third coffee at the station now, when my supervisor finally comes in to talk to me. Tells me I could go home, finally. To get rest--the paramedics had checked me out and I was okay considering what just happened.

But instead of going home, I drive straight to the hospital where Y/N lay like a shell of herself. A tall bloke in a perfectly pressed suits stands above her, brushing her cheek. I watch as she reaches up and holds his hand, I watch him pull her hand up and kiss it. Then he leans down and kisses her bandaged forehead.

My stomach is in knots; I can’t look away. It was the same person who left her flat just this morning--god, this morning felt like years ago. It must be her boyfriend, but she didn’t mention she was seeing someone. Maybe it was casual, I think. But casual wouldn’t come to hospital like this, caress her like that.

The obvious was that I was lucky just to have a glimpse of her in my life again, long enough to clear the air between us. But I couldn’t hold on to her, when I let go so many years ago, I’d lost my grip entirely. And now she was out of my grasp.

I knock gently on the door, Y/N’s boyfriend (?) looks up.

“Sorry, the doctor doesn’t want anyone taking her statement right now-”

“I’m not-” I unclip my badge to show that I wasn’t there for my job. At the same time Y/N rests her hand on his arm.

“Alec,” she says in a hoarse voice. “It’s alright, that’s Harry.”

“Oh,” I can read everything in the two-letter word and the look he gives me. He seems to swallow what he really wanted to say and comes up to me to shake my hand instead. “Thanks, for helping Y/N tonight.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I grasp his hand, he had a strong handshake. Which was a stupid thing to think about I realise, as my eyes land on Y/N. She’s looking at him with a purity in her eyes that she used to look at me with. Something inside of me falls away, it feels raw and dark. I remove my hand from his, “Y/N’s a strong woman.”

“She is,” he looks at her with the same look she gives him. I felt like I should go, like I was interrupting them. But Y/N asks him to give us some space. He happily obliges, like I wasn’t even a threat to him. With what Y/N told him, everything she knew to be the truth before tonight, I didn’t blame him.

“Hi,” she says, she clears her throat, watching me watching her.

“How are you feeling?” I brush her hair back from the bandage on her head.

“Like there’s a rock concert in my head,” she jokes. “Except it’s mostly screaming.”

“Kind of like that one party we went to in uni,” I remind her.

“I thought the party’s theme was emo,” a laugh bursts out of her.

“It was screamo,” I laugh with her. “My ears were bleeding the next morning.”

“You crashed in my bed that night,” she remembers, her voice soft as the nostalgia washes over us. I take her hand in mine and brush my thumb over her knuckles. How times changed.

“You know, my girlfriend broke up with me that day when she found out I shared a bed with another girl.”

“Really?” She laughs again, twice in one conversation with me. She must be high on meds, or finally letting me in again. “You never told me that.”

“I never told you much about the girls I dated,” I say truthfully. “A lot of them dumped me after seeing how close we were. There was always that ultimatum: you or them.”

“Hm,” she hums. “I guess you chose me until you didn’t.”

We lock eyes and I open my mouth--to apologise? To explain something? But she waves her hand. “It’s a habit, I’ve got to get all the one-liners I’ve kept pent up out. I’ll be done eventually, don’t worry.”

“I look forward to that day,” I drum my fingers against the bed. “In the meantime...Alec?”

“Oh,” her face flushes as she looks out the door to where he stands on his phone. “Yeah. He’s been...really good, he came over as soon as he heard.”

“How long?” It was torture for me but it was like I needed to know.

“A few months, on and off again. I think I’ve just been keeping him at arm’s length because...well...”

“Us,” Once again, I’m reminded that I could never fully grasp the enormity of the damage I’d done. “He seems like a smart chap--he’s here for you after all.”

“That would make you a smart chap too,” she says which brings my attention back to her cheeky smile. “If you want to compliment yourself, you don’t have to do it in such a roundabout way.”

I laugh, she was good. She grins back at me and my breath catches, this feeling in my chest made me feel like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, the old fear of being unhappy had been creeping up on me ever since I got here and saw Alec with Y/N. Now it drapes over my shoulders like a heavy coat.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks.

“Nothing,” I sit on the edge of the bed. “Just thinking about everything that happened. And what we talked about.”

“I’m glad that we...” she picks at the thin blanket covering her body. “I feel like I have some closure now?”

“I wish I knew...what you thought this whole time. The baby and...everything.”

“I’ve got a long way to go but,” Y/N rubs my arm. “Let’s just agree to leave all the heavy stuff behind. And live our lives to the fullest. Almost dying in a men’s room has really given me perspective. We both deserve to be happy.”

“You should write a book,” I joke. “It would sell.”

“We can co-write it.”

“We’ll title it Bad Timing,” I say. “A memoir of two people, right place, wrong time.”

“That’s good!” She grasps my arm. “And you could write the whole thing and just give me credit.”

“I’m okay with that,” I would do anything for her.

“You’re the writer after all,” she smiles and it strikes me again, how deeply she knew me. I don’t know if anyone would ever know me the way she does. “Do you still write?”

“Not really,” I didn’t at all.

“I was remembering the other day how you used to leave post-its all over my room-”

“I remember that,” I remind her of a few of my famous ones including one I stuck on her back that said kiss me. She scolds me for that and I pretend to be sorry but she knows I’m not.

“I am sorry,” I say, resting my hand on her arm and she understands I’m not talking about the prank.

“I know,” she looks away, out the door to Alec.

“So I should go, maybe I’ll be the one to take your statement? Tomorrow--or I’ll have my best officer come in here for it.”

“You should take a day off,” she says. “We almost died today.”

“You’re one to talk,” I say. “And we were not going to die today. You’re so dramatic.” I flick her knee and she flinches.

“Ouch,” she milks her current position in the hospital bed, rubbing the spot on her knee.

“Did that hurt? I don’t remember any knee injuries in your file.” I lean down over her and pat it extra hard.

“You’re evil,” she grins but for a small second her eyes flicker down to my lips, and when they meet mine again they look uncertain.

“Alright. Rest up. I’ll see you...later.” I lean down, my lips ghost her cheek, and I hear her sigh. “Goodbye Y/N,” I say, and somewhere it feels final. I don’t dare look at her when I stand up. I walk out of the room, and out of her life.

I think back to the one other time I saw her before the bank robbery. It was outside a grocer, and she’d told me to never talk to her again. I was glad the universe or whatever hadn’t listened, that our lives had crashed into each other even though that meant that in the end she was left in hospital and I was left unhappy again, realizing what I was missing in life. But for a brief moment, in the grand expanse of this universe, we orbited each other again.

As I nod at Alec on the way out. I stand to the side as he walks back in. I hear him comforting her, and I hear her tell him she had to talk in a low voice. I leave then, with every intention to leave her alone. She deserved this happiness she was finally finding as she put our past to rest, she didn’t need uncertainty. As for myself, it felt like it was my burden to bear now; Y/N and I just had bad timing, it felt like, but I just wanted her to be happy. So I let her be; I let go.

[happytroopers]

Toeing a line // Fox x Reader

TW: typical club stuff, alcohol drinking, arson mention, a random guy being a douche

Ahh, yes enemies to lovers but Fox has the emotional intelligence of a raisin

The music was pounding in 79's, a rhythmic bass line thumping so loudly that it created a ring like ripple with every beat in the cheap Nubian whiskey. Fox wrapped his hand around the low ball glass to absorb the vibrations before quickly retracting it- didn't want his drink to get too hot. After all, the cheap booze was probably the highlight of Fox's night and it was barely tolerable when chilled. He allowed himself a deep sigh, but at least tried to mask his scowl. No one else seemed to mind the colorful flashing lights or the shrieking Sullustese singing that accompanied the bone shaking bass. So instead of dampening the mood for the other party goers, Fox ordered another drink.

If you asked him how he ended up at 79's on one of his very, very rare days off? Fox would tell you that his brother's promised to pay his tab.

Well, that's not entirely accurate. You wouldn't have asked, hell, you probably would've avoided interaction all together. You had been exceptionally angry the last time you'd seen him.

After all, he was in charge of the Coruscant Guard. Which meant it was his job to inform you, one of the Coruscant Security Force's lead field detectives, when one of your cases fell under Guard jurisdiction. And during wartime, that was exceedingly frequent. So frequent in fact, the two of you were on a first name basis- that is, when you weren't calling him an ass.

Like, two days prior when he'd swiped up an arson case after you'd already almost solved it. Fox couldn't help that the arsonist burned a senator's sidepiece's apartment, and therefore it became a political issue which technically made it terrorism. You hadn't felt that way, and weren't afraid to let him know it.

Fox told you it was Coruscant Guard jurisdiction. You told him to go fuck himself. He asked if you had a problem with how he did his job. You asked if there was room under that helmet for the boot he was licking.

Fox shook his head as he sipped his drink, you had quite the mouth. You were feisty, a trait that was almost admirable when it wasn't infuriating. He finished his first drink as he thought about the last time he saw you, chest heaving as you tried to control your temper, eyes glinting maliciously as you glared at him, and fists clenched at your sides like you were going to punch him. Yeah, feisty was one word for it. Force of nature was another. Fox took another sip as he corrected his line of thought. Yes, objectively you were attractive, exceedingly clever, witty, and good at your job- but above all you were a pain in the ass. Especially, when you got angry at him for doing his job.

From his stool at the corner of the bar, he had a decent view of the entire club. Instinctively, his eyes did a sweep of the building. Nothing out of the normal- dancing women, drunk soldiers, server droids. He took a longer gulp as he finished his habitual sweep, almost choking when his eyes landed on something shocking.

You. You- in a hem line much shorter than anything you wore in the office. You- with a fruity, glowing drink in your hand as you leaned forward laughing as something the heavy artillery trooper said. You- with an easy grin and no tension in your shoulder.

Apparently, you weren't that angry, was Fox's first thought. Or at least you didn't look so angry when the heavy gunner kept an arm around your waist to keep you close- bordering the line between chivalrous and 'copping a feel', but you didn't seem to mind.

Fox narrowed his eyes in on the kid's face- obviously young, cropped hair, scar over through one eyebrow, and a fresh tattoo over the bridge of his nose-, wondering if he knew this trooper. He didn't know why it mattered, but it did. Mattered so much, in fact, that he didn't know he was staring until suddenly he was making eye contact with the soldier who was whispering something in your ear. Even though Fox pointedly looked away, he could've sworn he heard you giggle before you excused yourself.

When he looked back up, you were sauntering towards him with a light step, flushed face, and easy grin. Obviously, you hadn't seen him yet, so Fox tried angling himself away from you. When you got to the bar, you signaled to the bartender.

"Two shots, whatever's most popular tonight, please." You announced, running a hand through your hair. Even your voice sounded different, there wasn't an edge to it. Fox fully planned on staying silent, letting you go about your night with out him bothering you. But when a wave of your perfume hit him or maybe it was the double of his Nubian whiskey, he couldn't help it.

"I didn't picture you as the club type, Detective (Y/L/N)." Fell out of his lips before he even realized he was speaking. You tensed for a moment, you'd recognize that sarcasm anywhere. Fortunately, two drink in or not, you were never without a witty response for your favorite least favorite case stealer as lazily turned his way, hip cocking to one side and head to the other.

"Is that your way of asking if I come here often, Commander?" His title rolled of your tongue in an irritatingly, enticingly ironic way. He was pretty sure it was more respectful when you called him an ass. But at least this time you were smiling at him.

"What you do in your personal time is completely up to you." Fox answered formally, but the raised eye brows and raised eye brows told you otherwise. Like him, you couldn't help your next snarky comment.

"Well, since you took my case, I have plenty of personal time this weekend." You shot back, turning towards him. The commander was sans helmet, but still donned his red painted armor, "Besides, I could say the same thing about you."

Fox was about to shoot something back but suddenly, two armored arms wrapped around your waist pulling you back, “Sweet cheeks, what's the hold up with our drinks?"

Your demeanor changed immediately as an over exaggerated giggle bubbled out of your throat. A sugar sweet smile plastered to your face as you leaned back into that same trooper's chest, and your voice raised two octaves, "Bartender's busy, but they're coming!"

Whoever this was, it wasn't you. Snarky and 'irritating' as you were, he liked the real you much better. Fox had to look away as the heavy gunner in brownish-orange armor pressed kisses down your neck as you tried to flag the bartender again. Like Fox, the bartender assessed you and the trooper with an air of disgust and an over exaggerated eyeball- at least Fox managed to hide his.

“Get a room.” The bartender gruffed, sliding two shots of a glowing pink liquid towards you before following the statement in a string of angry curses in Neimoidian. You paid the insult no mind as you scooped up one of the shot glasses, and you escort of the night did the same with a grin.

Out of the corner of his eye, the commander saw you throw back your shot, even noticing how a stray streak escaped down the corner of you mouth, leaving a subtly glowing trail before your tongue darted to remedy it. Fox was so preoccupied in watching you that he hadn’t even noticed the gunner was staring at him.

You bounced slightly on your feet, enjoying the rush that the unidentified libation gave you and giving Fox a devilish wink before grinning back at your beau.

“Do you know him, baby?” The tattooed soldier asked with a slight slur, nodding his head towards the commander, voiced bordering between indulging for your sake and territorial to ward Fox off. He had adjusted his grip, now one of his arms was tight around shoulder with his gloved middle finger rubbing small circled on the exposed, tender skin exposed by the rather daring neckline of your outfit- but Fox was more distracted by the body glitter he’d just noticed. The commander cleared his throat and averted his eyes as he took a long sip of his drink, preparing himself for whatever description you’d cook up after your appraising stare (was your little smirk appreciative or malicious, Fox couldn’t decide).

“Oh, yeah, we work together sometimes.” You told him, before shrugging his arm off your frame. That was not the scathing review Fox had been expecting, and work together was a very generous way of putting things. You gave the commander another smirk, this time with a challenging raised eyebrow before laughing to yourself as you shook your head. Your drinking partner watched this micro interaction with the same level of confusion that Fox had, barely smoothing out his jealous sneer in time for you to turn back to him, “Order another round, I’m going to go freshen up, mmkay?”

You didn’t wait for confirmation as you left the two confused soldiers in your wake, hips swaying as you disappeared in the crowd.

Clearly not used to taking orders from pretty little things like you- Fox shook that line of thought out of his head and started over. Clearly not used to taking orders in his time off, it took the trooper a moment to catch up, before flagging down the bartender, “Another two shots, something to make her a little… frisky.”

Fox’s emotions went from annoyed at his presence, to a quick decision he hated this soldier. Similarly, the bartender gave him an actual disgusted reaction but got to work while Fox gave the gunner a nasty side eye.

“Got a staring problem, brother?” He huffed at the commander, with the intent to sound intimidating. But after seeing the kid down a neon pink drink, it missed by a long shot. Fox turned face towards him with an unimpressed stare, but the gunner kept going, “Yeah, I’ve noticed you staring.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t looking at you.” Fox informed him, voiced dripping with sarcasm as he shook his head as he went back to his drink, wishing you’d show back up and whisk the orange painted trooper away. He pictured it mentally and then decided you could take as much time as you pleased, because- for some reason he couldn’t place- the image made him aggravated. The barkeep placed two shots in front of them, both a dangerous deep black, before dropping a heart shaped fizzy tablet in both, turning them bubbly an a dark, transparent red. The sight would have made Fox wary had he not seen women order them for themselves before, but seeing as it was you- the commander still didn’t like it.

“Yeah, well, that hot piece of ass is with me, so keep your eyes to yourself.”

Fox snapped his head up, sending a glare to the younger soldier. Did he not have the decency to use your actual name? Did he even know your name?  The gunner smirked thinking he had struck a nerve- he had, but not the one he had intended to strike- so he continued, “Or, you can keep watching from here, I guess it doesn’t matter. We'll be too preoccupied to care.”

That was enough.

Fox stood to his feet, not that it mattered seeing that all clones were the same height for the most part. He gave the soldier a once over before coming back to his eyes which were bordering on glassy as the gunner slightly swayed on his feet.

“What’s your name and rank, soldier?” There was an edge to Fox’s voice, that even he couldn’t quite place, but nevertheless he continued to glare at the trooper.

“Are you trying to pull rank on me, man? Who do you think you are?” The disbelieving soldier shook his head as he shoved Fox’s shoulder. He had a point. It was considered a dick move to pull rank when off duty, and Fox made it a point to offend doing so. But here he was doing it anyway, over a girl who probably hated him.

“Clone Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.” Fox answered, letting the hostility flavor his words. The difference was immediate, like he instantly sobered up as his face went white. The orange painted soldier straightened his posture and dropped the challenging glare in favor of an apologetic stare.

“C-Commander?,” He sputtered at first, before  shaking his head to center himself, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t recognize you.”

The kid sputtered for another second, settling on the excuse, “I’ve had too much to drink.”

Fox took a little too much pleasure in the anxiety on the gunner’s features, and since he’d dug this hole, he might as well finish it, “Then maybe you should be done for the night.” Fox ’suggested’ sternly, pushing the two red shots out of reach without looking away, “Before you get yourself into trouble.”

The younger trooper nodded frantically, even throwing in a salute and a ’thank you, sir’, before quickly brushing past the Commander.

Fox caught his arm as he passed, pulling him in close enough to add on menacingly, “And stay away from (Y/N).”

The Gunner nodded again before scuttling out of the club, in an alarming hurry. Fox shook his head, already feeling a little bad for scaring the kid- the young trooper would probably wait for weeks in fear of a formal reprimand or demotion that would never come. Fox was mean, but he wasn’t going to hurt the kids career, just because he tried picking up the wrong girl. But then again, maybe a healthy dose of fear would do the kid some good, maybe he’d even stop using phrases like ‘hot piece of ass’- anyone who said that seriously maybe did deserve a demotion.

Shaking his head, Fox already felt a little embarrassed about his little display as he slid back onto his stool and finished his second drink.  The bartender saw the empty glass and came to top it off, but Fox waved him off- maybe he should take his own advice.

All that fuss, over the lead deceive who called him an ass like it was his name. Sighing, he ran a face over his head and reminded himself of all the reasons you weren’t worth the trouble.

Number one, you most definitely hated him and he (probably) hated you too, because you both found each other infuriating enough to ignore any redeeming qualities.

Number two, you could handle yourself and would at least attempt to kick Fox ass if you found out he intervened. He remembered watching you take down a suspected murderer- hell you might actually kick his ass if you were angry enough.

Number three, you didn’t seem to have minded the attention at all. It was Fox the interaction had bothered.

Fox was having trouble with a number four, and was growing agitated at the rather short list. A moment later, you sauntered back up, hair a little more in place and lip coloring touched up. Upon only finding one soldier, you looked around in confusion but found nothing.

“Where’d Blast go?” You asked over the music which had turned to a electro tech song with no words. One side of your painted lips tugging downward as you gave the club another once over. Fox just then realized he’d never even learned his name, no matter, to put himself back on track he let sarcasm roll off his tongue.

“You’re Coruscant’s lead field detective, you tell me.” Fox shrugged. Instantly, you sent him that annoyed glance he’d been waiting for all night. There you were, the real you. No more over exaggerated pouts or fake giggles.

“Well, I’d start the investigation but then you’d swoop it out from under me after I basically solved it for you, so why don’t you go ahead and tell me.” You sneered back, sharp eyes waiting expectantly. Fox was most definitely not going to tell you about his a tad bit over aggressive piss contest, you’d either punch him or never let him live it down- and the commander wasn’t sure which was the worst option. Instead, he nodded towards the mens bathroom as he twirled the ice in his empty glass.

“Kid said he was gonna hurl, apparently he hasn’t learned to hold his liquor yet.” He couldn’t help the subtle dig as he smirked, that wasn’t even true.

“Gross,” You muttered under your breath before you eyed the two shots on the bar. You plucked them both up, thinking about offering one to Fox before deciding against it, “Well if they’re already paid for.”

With that, you downed both shots without even checking what they were. The confidence in that action almost impressed Fox, but he told himself it was obnoxious. With no escort and no more booze, you sighed rolling your neck from side to side as the alcohol settled, “Well, probably for the best. I have work tomorrow.”

Fox quirked an eyebrow, “I thought I “stole" your case.”

He put extra emphasis on the air quotes just to annoy you- it worked. You threw him another withering look, but Fox- who was used to your scathing glares- didn’t flinch.

“Yeah, for every case you steal from me, I get three more.” You defended hotly, but eased into a laugh as you theatrically added, “Because criminals never sleep.”

Yep, that would definitely be those last two shots kicking in. You waited patiently for another sassy remark, quite frankly this conversation was much more riveting than anything Blast had said to you all night. Fox rose both eyebrows at your rather lame joke, but huffed a laugh anyways (at your humor or your lackadaisical demeanor, you weren’t sure).

“If that’s the case, why are you always so mad at me for- rightfully- taking cases that fall under my jurisdiction?” He pressed, flagging down the bartender for a glass of water that wasn’t for him. When he turned back to you, you annoyed glare had softened ever so slightly and your smirk had faded into a softer smile he’d never seen before.

“Just cause it’s you, Fox, just cause it’s you.” You told him, and Fox detected a lick of honesty behind your teasing grin. Hold his gaze for a second before shaking your head, you looked to the barkeep before he could set down the water, “His drinks are on me.”

Fox didn’t have a chance to protest before you winked at him again over your shoulder, already walking away, “See ya around, Commander.”

Yeah, Fox was definitely toeing a dangerous line. A very, very dangerous line.

[tallyovie-writes]

Pictures of Us | f. w. Part 2

part 1

Summary: all the paintings choose a student to patron, the Lady chooses you and watches as you and Fred Weasley grow in the same direction

Warning:none, might contain little angst, nothing serious

2k words

@sirenswhispers @discoverablefeelings @capture-the-moment-on-camera @sophieswizardswheezes

Sixth year, December

The corridors buzzed with excitement. With only less than two weeks to the Yule Ball boys were running around in desperate need of finding partners while girls were frantic about not being asked. Of course the already paired ones watched the madness spread with a smug smile on their lips.

The Paintings also had the time of their lives, the new puppets on their chessboard gave back a little life to their fading colours. Now they could play matchmaker from an even bigger selection.

The Lady wanted to be proud to say she did not take part in such childish acts, but she had a mission with those two before the second task. It's not like she could do much, but occasionally if she heard a french boy talking about inviting her patron to the dance she faked sadness as she gave the poor boy the news that you were indeed taken.

You weren't indeed taken.

Madness has yet to engulf you, but you weren't calm either. Collita was asked by a bulgarian boy, but you had doubts whether there weren't threats made by her that overpowered the poor boy's common sense.

You would have been fine with the two of you going together, but now that she had a partner, you weren't planning on being the third wheel.

You forced these thoughts out of your mind for now. You had more important things going on.

The Lady's corridor was full of students as usual, so you weren't surprised when you entered the DADA classroom someone almost knocked you off your feet.

"Watch where you are goi.....oh..." you started telling off your attacker, but as you looked up Fred Weasley held eye contact.

Ever since that encounter in the potions storage room things have changed. You haven't really met after that, the two of you gave a wide berth to one another. No funny business, no prank. When you did run into each other, a sudden awareness filled your body. He made no snarky comments, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. You didn't bring up the secret of the castle, and he didn't bring up the date. Like an unspoken deal has been made without either of your knowledge. It was awkward at best. You didn't think anyone noticed, there was only bad blood between you before.

He didn't reply, he didn't apologize for running you over. He took a long look at your face, lingering on details only he could see. Without his usual grin, he left the scene as fast as he came, robes flying around him.

"What was that? Has something happened between you two?" seems like someone noticed after all.

"Nothing besides me agreeing to a date, him agreeing to let me in on a secret, and our mutual ghosting. How is your french boy by the way?" you feigned innocence.

Collita's jaw hit the floor.

"I'm joking. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You know I wouldn't even be surprised. With all the sexual tension you two radiate, I wouldn't put it past you that I could find you in a broom closet with him."

Now it was your turn to let your jaw hit the floor.

"Well then, good to know nothing is going on..."

Boy, if you'd known...

Sixth year, yule ball

It wasn't that bad of an evening. You could say it could have been quite magical. The house elves outdid themselves, even the usual house rivalry crawled back to its gloomy hole.

The icicles lost their naturally given cold arua just like the stone walls' usual grim facade. White dominated, but was quickly swept by the wide range of colourful dress robes, Dumbledore's glittery lilac fabric showing how it's done properly.

It really wasn't your date's fault either that you didn't really enjoy yourself. The poor boy tried everything, but besides polite conversation you weren't capable of anything else.

You were standing alone by the food table, the ravenclaw boy left a while ago to try his luck somewhere else, probably with bigger chances.

You saw Collita bent over from laughter silent tears running down her face, her date was watching her with parted lips in amazement. Eyes big, positive surprise written on his face. Collita did that to people. She was naturally gifted with a charming personality, she drew you in, spoke to you like you were on a pedestal.

She made you feel seen. A secret talent that you were rather jealous of on several occasions.

Suddenly you felt sick of the swirling mesmerized faces, the colours were too vibrant, the music too loud, too many bodies pressed together.

Before the walls started closing around you, you left your previous position and made your way to the exit that led to the gardens. The only sound that was registrateable to your ears were only your own footsteps.

Fresh air cut your rapid breathing shorter. You slowed down, the Great Hall's chokingly sweet smells started to fade away into the night.

"Wouldn't say rushing to the night with only a light silk material covering you was a smart choice, wasn't it? I took you to be a lot smarter than that, love. You're gonna get sick." a soft voice interrupted you.

Fred Weasley stood next to the bushes.

"Well, being sick would mean I wouldn't have to see your ugly face in class, so..." you replied but your voice lacked its usual fierceness. You were too tired.

He chuckled at your reply.

"I don't wanna go back there.." you started in a low voice, barely understandable, but gathered your poise and frowned as you said the last sentence. "They are too happy in there anyway."

"Is that jealousy in your voice?" he found so goodly which strings of you he should pull.

"And what if it is?" you snapped at him.

A ghost of his usual smug grin appeared on his face.

"Get your big nose out of my business by the way!"

"Well love, you know what they say about big nosed guys..." he lazily shrugged, hands in the pockets of his robe.

"Get lost, Weasley, I'm not in the mood today."

Maybe it was the hint of desperation in your voice, or the pathetic look you might have presented, but he stopped picking your brains.

"Come in, Y/S/N, you might even find the bloke of your dreams tonight." Fred tilted his head to the side.

"I'm not interested in 'finding a guy' to be my only goal." you scoffed at his remark.

"Well then, as the only guy you talk to right now, I feel obligated to spare you from the clutches of the cold and sickness, so pretty please get your ass in here."

"I'll stay until I decide it's enough. But thank you for your concern. Bye Fred Weasley, 'find the girl of your dreams' tonight." you rolled your eyes at him.

Little did you know, he already did.

Despite the cold, the Lady felt your frozen heart start melting, even if you haven't realized yet.

Sixth year, few days after the Yule Ball

"I don't understand why you thought it was a good idea to freeze your pretty little ass out there in a low cut silk dress in winter."

You groaned out in frustration.

Collita didn't spare you despite the fact that you were bloody sick, and fuckin hurting everywhere.

"Madam Pomfrey said you won highest fever of the year." she mentioned between stealing a few of your get-well sweets. "At least you finally won something." she winked at you.

"Get out, and let me suffer alone you bimbo!" you hissed at her, but the sharp pains shooting down your neck really destroyed to effect you were trying to achieve.

"Alrighty, my little pathetic friend, I suppose I can leave you to your demise. Be a good and obedient patient." she sent you a kiss and strolled out the Hospital Wing.

**

In the Hospital Wing, after curfew

After Collita left you to suffer on your own Madam Pomfrey gave you a light sleeping tonic. You welcomed the sweet oblivion in the place of pain.

A light noise disturbed the calming darkness. Opening your eyes was a too heavy task, so you relied on your hearing. A soft fumbling could be heard, but the person near your bed executed the deed quite clumsily as the most colourful swearing left their mouth.

Fighting against the tonic's luring effect, you tried opening your eyes. When you did, you almost jerked back in surprise.

Fred Weasley stood there with an innocent smile on his face, like a child caught in a naughty act, his hands were midair frozen on the spot hovering above your stack of sweets.

"What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the night standing near my bed?" you demanded and pulled your blanket further to your neck. "Are you setting up a prank?"

"Have a little faith in me, Y/N...if it were a prank you would only know it before it happened and that's already too late. Can't a bloke visit his sick classmate? The classmate he warned against the cold?" you scoffed at his pointed stare.

"In the middle of the night?"

He started scratching the back of his neck.

"Good point. A point I should probably elaborate on." he didn't seem like someone who wanted to elaborate.

"Don't let me stop you from doing that..." you rolled your eyes at him.

He seemed a little awkward and you could barely hide your amusement. It is not every day a Weasley gets a little intimidated and loses his usual cockiness.

"You see..." he started but his gaze was still fixated on his hands. "...I felt a tad responsible for you catching a cold.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

"If it weren't for me dancing on your nerves in the garden making you irritated enough to stay outside longer than intended, you wouldn't be here right now." he sounded a little guilty and you couldn't help the warmth that started spreading in your stomach.

You started to chuckle.

"Weasley. It's alright." you felt a sudden bravery envelop you as you said the next words nonchalantly. "You owe me another secret and we are even."

You waited for his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. He lifted his head, brown eyes locking into your own. Now you weren't sure if it was a wise idea to make him remember your deal back in the potion storage room.

"And here I thought I could bribe you with chocolate that I nicked from the kitchen...you are not a woman easily pleased." he didn't seem that sad about this fact.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Right."

Silence fell upon the two of you. Eyes still interlocked, you weren't sure if minutes or hours passed by. The Hospital Wing's darkness faded, and the freckles splattered across his face became more contrasted than before. He tilted his head to the side, his gaze burned your skin.

Suddenly becoming aware of the weirdness of the situation you cleared your throat and looked away.

"Since the tonic made me hungry like a wolf, I'll accept that nicked chocolate." you said, trying to break the silence.

Fred smiled and threw you the bar he fumbled around with before. Your catch was nothing sort of graceful and you felt embarrassment tint your cheeks.

Looking down at the bar in your hand you felt your eyes grow big.

"How did you know this is my favourite?" you asked astonishment, creeping into your voice.

"Lucky guess." he shrugged. You didn't need to know that every time the Grand Hall's tables were filled with this, he couldn't look away from the joy radiating on your face. Just like now.

"Your taste is impeccable, I gotta say."

Oh yes, his taste was indeed impeccable, but not just in chocolate.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Revelation Part 2

Harry Potter Marauders Era- Post Hogwarts 

Link to Part 1 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M 

Credit: Song in chapter: I forget where we were Ben Howard and a clip taken from the TV show Rescue Me (it was so fitting)

_________

You stormed back into the house muttering about how much you wanted to kick Regulus in the shins.

“Did daddy already piss you off?”

Sirius said with a smirk as he looked up from his place at the kitchen table. He clearly could see that you were in a less than happy state but he needed answers. The scowl on your face told Sirius that he was lucky to not be killed.

“You know if I didn’t adore you so fucking much I would bitch slap the hell out of you and yes he made me mad.”

You said before sitting down across from Sirius. He smiled innocently before making a drink appear in front of you.

“Is there booze in this?”

You questioned. Sirius nodded.

“It appears that is what you need.”

You laughed bitterly. Hell yes, you needed booze and Sirius needed to make sure that the drinks kept coming. If you got drunk, that would be just fine. Harry wouldn't be waking up anytime soon and if he did, Sirius could tend to him.

“You have no idea.”

You muttered. Sirius was quiet for a moment before finally deciding to speak again.

“Y/n, I normally don’t pry into your life mostly because we know everything about each other but I am feeling a bit left out and confused at the moment.”

You took a drink, knowing that it was time to tell Sirius the truth. All of your dirty and most passionate secrets were about to come spilling out to your best friend.

“We dated for three years.”

You replied. Sirius was clearly surprised. How did he and James not pick up on this? Were they that distracted that they didn’t notice you with Regulus? The better question was what did you really have in common with his little brother (other than an impeccable gift of sarcasm)?

“Wow...so was it some weird sex thing or an actual relationship?”

“It was an actual relationship combined with mind-blowing sex that would make Satan himself blush. Do you remember my friend Samantha?”

Sirius internally gagged at the word “mind-blowing sex.” To him, you were the funny girl that tagged around with the Marauders. Sure, Sirius was aware that you had lost your virginity but he wasn’t for sure to whom it was...now he knew.

“Yeah the girl from Ravenclaw, you used to study with her a lot.”

You shook your head.

“Samantha was actually your brother and I can tell you that there was no studying going on. Most of the time when I came back to the common room I was wondering if I had remembered my underwear.”

You had to stifle a look at the expression on Sirius’ face. He was quiet for a few moments longer before speaking again.

“So both of you are into some freaky shit, huh?”

Taking a sip of your drink, you only batted your eyes at Sirius.

“It depends on how you define the word freaky.”

You said replied with a sly smile. Had this conversation been with James there probably would have been a lot of yelling and screaming. With Sirius, it was a pleasant yet uncomfortable experience that both of you should look back on and laugh.

“Well, you call my brother daddy. That is some information that I could have totally gone without knowing. Now I can’t look at my little brother the same way. I'm going to call him daddy now just to witness his reaction.”

Sirius was relieved when you smiled.

“And that doesn’t surprise me. Let me make sure to find a camera because that will be an uncomfortable experience for both Regulus and myself.”

Sirius grinned.

“It was a very uncomfortable experience for me to hear earlier. Well...more like the rug being pulled out from underneath me. So, all jokes aside, what happened between the two of you?”

Your face darkened. This wasn’t a memory that you ever wanted to think about...the break up a week after graduation. It was like having the rug pulled out from under you. You still felt that way when you thought about it. Something had you convinced that Regulus was the one for you and maybe you still felt that way.

While you were in America, you had tried dating others but it never worked out. You always compared them to Regulus. They were always annoying you, talking too much, and didn't know how to touch you. Unbeknownst to you, you were the lucky one. You hadn’t been bitten during a moment of what was supposed to be exciting.

“Regulus decided that he didn’t want to disappoint your parents. They would never accept me because I am a blood traitor so bye bye Y/n.”

Sirius frowned.

“Is that why you took off to the states?”

You nodded.

“That would be the reason.”

Sirius’ was quiet again. He was trying to think of some “big brother-like” bit of advice that he could give you that might be helpful but he couldn’t think of anything. Everything that he had to offer sounded a bit condescending or downright cold…

Positive one, Walburga Black won’t be your mother-in-law Positive two, we don’t have to worry about James rolling over in his grave. Positive three,...

Sirius was sure that there were positive number three and if you gave him time he could come up with more.

“Why are you sitting here in my brother’s coat if you are so mad at him?”

You realized that you were still, in fact, still wrapped in Regulus’ coat. In your subconscious, you were enjoying having Regulus’ comforting scent around you.

“We were outside talking and he put it around my shoulders before pissing me off. I told him that he wasn’t getting his coat back and he isn’t. I’m a petty bitch and am going to keep this coat like that gold-hoarding dragon from The Hobbit.”

Sirius chuckled. He again realized how much that he had missed you over the past year.

“Alright Smaug junior, go take your gold and hide upstairs because I hear the front door opening.”

You jumped up and ran up the stairs as Regulus stepped in. Sirius took a sip of his tea before meeting his brother’s face. Regulus’ cheeks were pink from the chill of the evening.

“Is that hot?”

Sirius nodded.

“Just pour it on me.”

Sirius smirked as Regulus grabbed the blanket that was on the back of the couch and curled up in it.

“You know, a lesser man would have come back in for his coat. How are you doing, daddy?”

Regulus glared at Sirius before going to pour himself a cup of tea. It took all that Sirius had not to burst out laughing at the sneer on his brother’s face. Regulus looked like Sirius had force-fed him a lemon.

Y/n just missed a fine moment.

“Never call me that again! Maybe I don’t want to get punched in the face. Y/n is mad and I’m an idiot.”

Sirius shrugged.

“You said it.”

Regulus groaned sitting down. He wanted to apologize to you but he knew at the moment he would be better attempting to baptize a feral cat.

“I was trying to do her a favor.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t do Y/n any favors and let her make her own choices or possibly use the balls between your legs to tell mum and dad to fuck off?”

Regulus’ lip twitched at this brother’s comment. It was so easy for Sirius to talk about telling Walburga and Orion to fuck off. He wasn't the one that had to be “the good son.” That was all on Regulus’ shoulders. Sure, now his efforts were shot to hell but Regulus was doing the right thing...the noble thing.

“Have you forgotten what is on my left arm? Y/n is an auror and she is going to be working for Moody soon. What a fucking joke we both would be. A death eater dating an auror...and the other way around. I did her a favor.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you aren’t a death eater anymore. You are just acting like you missed your little nap.”

Regulus crossed his arms, reminding Sirius of the little boy that would turn Grimmauld Place into a literal nightmare on Elm Street when he didn’t have a nap during the day.

“She said...well screamed at my face...that she should have dated you because you would have been so much better to her.”

Sirius winced.

“Ouch. To be fair, she and I would kill each other. I would be better off dating you...with our family history no one would bat an eye.”

Regulus didn’t want to think about his family's pureblood history at the moment. He had enough on his plate.

“If you were dating me, I would kill you. Now I get to sit back and watch the two of you play house with James’ kid. Just a thought but you two may want to save some money for the therapy that child is going to need.”

Sirius stood up and shook his head.

“Nah, the little tyke is going to be just fine.”

Regulus wanted to make a snarky comment but decided not to.

“Where did Y/n go anyway?”

Sirius pointed to the stairs.

“Upstairs with your coat that is no longer yours. I would suggest leaving her alone unless you want to lose an eye. If you do bother her and lose an eye, I will forever compare you to a pirate.”

Regulus stood up and moved to leave the room.

“Yeah, well, fuck you.”

Walking upstairs, Regulus poked his head hesitantly into what was your room. When nothing was thrown at him, Regulus figured out that the room was empty. He had no idea what he was going to say to apologize to you. If you didn’t want to hear what he was going to say, you would let whatever words that he has to offer go in one ear and out the other. It wasn’t like things were before. He couldn’t just grab you and have his way with you anymore. Things were different and Regulus wasn’t sure if they would ever be the same.

Regulus stopped outside of Harry’s nursery at the sound of your soft voice singing. Looking into the room, but not making his presence known, Regulus watched as you cradled Harry. He stepped back outside the door with his back against the wall. Had Regulus forgotten how peaceful it sounded to hear your voice? When you weren’t being sassy (and things weren’t tense) you were the most calming person that Regulus had in his life.

Don't take it so seriously, no. Only time is ours . The rest we'll just wait and see. Maybe you're right, babe, maybe. Oh no, and that's how summer passed. Oh your, great divide and range of green green grass. Oh, maybe I hold on fast, to you . Hello love, my invincible friend. Hello love, the thistle and the burr. Hello love, for you I have so many words but I, I forget where we were

Stepping away from the room, Regulus knew it was best that he walked away for now.

Regulus didn’t see you the next morning either. You were gone before he woke up. It was Remus that told him “gently” that you had decided to go back to work as an auror. Regulus hated the thought of that altogether. You had no reason to go to work With the Potter family fortune, you could live comfortably and raise Harry. It wouldn’t be your style though. You were probably doing this just to spite him.

Your choice of being an auror was the topic of the first fight that the two of you had as a couple. It was funny, especially now, for Regulus to think that the first fight happened weeks before the breakup. Now he should have seen it was the beginning of the end.

“You’re what?!”

Regulus snapped. The two of you had met at the top of the astronomy tower. Graduation was a few weeks and you decided to drop the bomb of your career to be.

“You heard me. It's what I want to do, Reggie.”

“You do realize what I am right? I don’t think that it will be looked upon very highly for you to have a boyfriend that is a death eater.”

You smirked.

“No one technically knows anything right now as it is so…

Regulus pulled himself out of his memory when you stepped into the kitchen with Marlene McKinnon on your heels. Sirius quickly leaned over and playful elbowed Regulus in the side with a smile that said, there is your woman.

“I’m an idiot. I never should have broken up with him, Y/n. I’m just a mess.”

Regulus watched as your eyes fluttered in his direction before looking away...as if he were not even in existence.

“Marlene, there is hope. It comes with batteries. Trust me, no man is worth that much aggravation. I understand why Dorcas loves women. Let me tell youI am a big supporter of the lesbian community. I wish that I was a lesbian.”

Sirius, Regulus, and Remus both looked up at that. It took all that you had not to laugh at the expression on the face of every man in the room.

“What?”

Remus questioned. You put your bag down before turning to face Remus and a very amused Sirius.

“Like gay guys, they really have it made. So think about it, you’re a guy and your with a guy who has the same interest as you that's like a win-win situation. First of all, you both like to have a lot of sex and if you’re both interested in sports you can go to hockey games, football games, quidditch matches. It's all blowjobs and ball games.”

Sirius immediately started laughing so hard that he almost fell out of his chair. This was going to be one of those Y/n conversations that he had missed so much over the past year.

“Blow jobs and ball games?”

Remus questioned, stifling a laugh, before turning to Sirius wondering if his lover was going to make it through this conversation. You, meanwhile, smirked over the top of the drink that Marlene handed you.

“Sweetie, no matter the sexual orientation every relationship goes great until the both of you start having secret evil plans to piss each other off. This doesn’t apply to Sirius and Remus because you two are the perfect relationship having freaks.”

Sirius grinned.

“You think so??”

You groaned.

“Buzzkill, Marlene. So what you are saying is even if you and I were doing each other, we would be doomed?”

Marlene nodded before deciding to use your comment.

“There is hope. It comes with batteries.”

You were watching Regulus out of the corner of your eye. He was only blinking with a small amused smirk on his face. Clearly, he had no idea that this was the conversation that everyone in this room had on a regular basis.

“I’m going to take a nap.”

Sirius stood up to take his empty cup to the sink.

“Remus and I are taking Harry clothes shopping. Do you have any requests on what not to buy?”

You shook your head.

“I think that you two will be just fine. Marlene, what are you doing tonight?”

Marlene was gathering up her sweater and handbag.

“Going to find a new boyfriend that runs on batteries.”

You gave her a thumbs up before turning and walking out of the room.

(1 hour later…)

You lay awake staring at the ceiling. From the time that you had laid down, your mind was on Regulus. Being back in the same house was quickly wearing on you. Every moment that you looked at him, you wanted nothing more than to get your hands back on your former lover.

Face it, princess, you still love him and want nothing more than to fuck his brains out.

You could take your own advice and invest in a good vibrator. It wouldn't be good enough though. Nothing would be as good as the real thing.

There is nothing wrong with teasing Regulus and let him see what he’s missing.

That could be the most promising advice that you could give yourself at the moment. Sitting up, you let your eyes fall to the trunk that was in the corner. It was the one trunk that you hadn’t unpacked yet. You knew inside was one of Regulus’ school white dress shirts. After one very steamy sex meet up, you may have just taken it back to the Gryffindor tower with you.

You didn’t want to think about how over the past year that you would wear that shirt when you wanted to feel close to Regulus again.

Don’t be a buzzkill.

You thought as you shook the thoughts from your mind. Grinning evilly, you slid your dress, bra, and knickers off before opening the trunk and looking for the article of clothing that you needed.

Stepping outside of your bedroom door, you stood dressed in only Regulus’ shirt unbuttoned halfway with nothing else underneath. You had sent Sirius a message and told him to take Harry out for ice cream. This would be enough to keep Remus and Sirius out for a bit longer. You would have enough time to work your “magic.”

You peaked your head around the corner before walking into the living room. Regulus sat rather unsuspectingly minding his own business with a book on his lap. You weren't sure what would happen after this incident took place. Were you ready to take Regulus back and risk having your heart broken again? You weren't sure 100%. Time would have to tell on that one but getting laid for the first time in years sounded nice.

Time to put this plan into action

The moment that you walked casually through the living room you were never more thankful to be such a good actress. You were able to keep your face straight without blushing when Regulus looked up and dropped the drink that he was holding in his free hand. The only regret that you had was that you couldn’t see the expression on his face. You have paid money to be able to see what his face looked like.

Casually, you walked into the kitchen acting as though you didn’t see him. You had no idea what you were going to do in the kitchen. After standing still for a moment, you opened the refrigerator to look for some mystery item that would catch your eye. You had been pawing through the refrigerator for all of three seconds when you heard Regulus’ voice.

“One question, is that my shirt?”

_________

@amelie-black @regulusheadcanons @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @quuenofblacks @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @hazncalsgal @jessyballet @knreidy1 @teletubiswszpilkach @mimisparkle12 @acciosiriusblack @fific7 @rubyroscoe1 @bennyberry @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @marichromatic @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel @deanwherescas @mycuddlycorner @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @sparkleofpizza

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

For a considerable amount of the day, Oikawa found himself seized by a net of emotions. Aiding Osamu in his quest to earn your forgiveness was certainly the correct decision, a fact affirmed by your reaction to the cook’s presence. Yet, since his departure from the apartment, the setter struggled to lift the corners of his mouth into a smile. What plagued him stemmed from a rather selfish desire, albeit a natural one. The thought of returning home to an empty apartment had stirred awake a sense of loneliness, one that had been dormant since your arrival. Truthfully, he missed his best friends, and while he knew that Japan was your home, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

And was it really that terrible that he wanted to spend a little more time with you?

A mixture between a sigh and grunt was exhaled by the volleyball player as he twisted the doorknob and nudged open the door. Maybe it was time for him to get a roommate. It would certainly be better than spending most of his time alone.

“Tooru?”

Pausing mid-step, his eyes travelled across the room, instantly searching for the one who called him.

“Y/n? You’re still here?” The brunette blinked slowly, adjusting to the dimmed lighting. It took him a few seconds to process the scene ahead – but there you were, lounging on the couch with a pillow hugged against your chest. His first instinct was to scan the open space for a second figure, though to his disbelief, you were alone. “I thought you would have left with the onigiri man.”

His admission was initially responded to with a little tisk, with the sound resonating from the inside of your mouth. The noise prompted the setter to expel a partially suppressed chortle as he tossed his keys onto the coffee table. Your artificial display of disappointment only increased the joy slowly washing over him. He had spent the entire day fixated on the possibility that you would leave without a goodbye, thereby neglecting to consider that you could have chosen to stay.

“Was that disappointment in your voice, Tooru?” Adjusting your position on the couch, you narrowed your eyelids into a questioning glare. Of course, you knew it wasn’t disappointment laced into his inquiry, and yet you felt compelled to tease him.

“Oh yeah, didn’t you know? I only invited Miya here to get rid of you.”

The snarky remark did not pierce through your false veil of suspicion, and when he claimed the spot next to you on the couch, a playful growl vibrated inside your throat.  

“How unfortunate that I got rid of him instead.”

“Yeah right. You didn’t.” Oikawa was well acquainted with your teasing ways, and the sarcasm coating your witty counter did not go unnoticed. There were also other factors that led him to dismiss your response. The likelihood of you remaining inside and sober after breaking off your relationship was extremely low. Additionally, even if your emotional stability tipped on the scale towards insanity, he could not see you murdering your fiancé. Murdering the girl who had caused this entire mess, though? He could predict that. And he knew for a fact, you would be a very theatrical killer, and if anyone would be your partner in crime, it would be Hanamaki.

But that was not the point right now!

Noticing the setter’s gaze travel in the opposite direction as his mind wandered, you rolled your eyes, providing your head a short shake. “Of course, I didn’t.”

The annoyance in your response guided him back to the conversation, forcing him to abandon his concerns about your mental state. Stretching out slightly, he brushed his knee against yours, seeking to demonstrate that you once again had his full attention. “So, if you didn’t get rid of him, why are you still here?”

“Wow, now I’m seriously thinking you did want to get rid of me!” A dramatic gasp parted your lips, as you scooted forward, fully intending on delivering his forehead a flick if he continued this charade.

“Y/n, don’t look at me like that!” Lifting his hands in surrender, laughter bubbled from his chest. “You know what I mean. What’s going on? You two are usually inseparable.” It was for that reason alone, he thought you would have elected to leave tonight.

The question generated a wave of exhaustion to collide with your chest, prompting a knot to form inside your ribcage. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip roughly, you shifted your attention to the television, seeking a remedy for your sudden change in mood. The alteration in your confidence surprised him.

“Things have changed, Tooru.” Bitterness crawled up your esophagus, disguising itself as laughter as you curled your fingers in, digging your nails into your palms. “I’ve been sitting here for two hours obsessing over that. I didn’t want things to change. I was happy before.” Frustrated with the vulnerability in your words, tension strained your jaw. “I don’t want to start over from the beginning. I loved my relationship with him… Well... mostly. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” The cries spilling from your swollen lips were intertwined with a silent beg – as if you were pleading him to say something – anything, that could solve the damage your relationship had endured.

“So, don’t start over from the beginning. Things went wrong recently right. Redo the last three months.” His solution had sounded much more refined in his head, and now that he vocalized it, it dawned on him how ridiculous it was. A tense smile stretched out his lips as you squinted at him, attempting to comprehend what the hell was just said.

“Do you have a time machine I don’t know about, Jimmy Neutron? Because if you do, I have a few points in time that I would like to revisit.” The emotions that had sparked just a moment ago faltered, with amusement claiming its spot. While his solution did not provide you the remedy you sought, it did at least silence the increasing irritation flooding your nerves.

“You did not just compare me to that acorn headed kid.” Bewildered, Oikawa reeled back, straightening his posture.

“I always thought his hair looked like ice cream.” A thoughtful expression painted your features, the ridiculousness of your comment further soothing the erratic beating inside of your chest.

“I’m sorry – what?” He was unsure whether you were purposefully deflecting or if this was merely the result of your minimal attention span. Either way, he needed to guide you back to the topic that required addressing. “You know, this is not the point! I was trying to support you.” Reaching out, he poked at your nose with his index finger.  

“Oh, I know. Emphasis on ‘trying’.” Snickering to yourself, you gently swatted away his finger. But the male took the action to heart, holding the now ‘injured’ limb to his chest protectively.

“At least I’m trying.” The puppy-like expression that brought his caramel irises to expand dismantled any desire you had to continue teasing him.  

“Fine, tell me Bill Nye. How do I ‘redo’ the last three months?” Your brows were provided a lift, indicting your willingness to receive his ‘advice’.

“I didn’t mean literally! I meant, work on what went wrong. Like…” Permitting his gaze to wander away from yours, he laced his fingers together, twiddling his thumbs. “your drinking habits.” The comment was followed by a little innocent whistle, and from the side of his eye, he saw you twitch at the sound.

“Okay. Touché, pretty boy.” He was absolutely correct in his assessment, but that did not keep your features from twitching into a scowl. Why did he have to come for you like that?

“You’re going to have to accept that your relationship won’t go back to normal right away. But what you can do is try and work on what went wrong.” Based on your receptiveness to his first suggestion, Oikawa assumed you would be open to hearing his additional comments. But he was sadly mistaken. 

“What do you think you are, a marriage counselor?” Feigning disgust, you planted your palms on his cheeks, squishing his face together. “What are you going to say next? A relationship is something that can bloom? And communication is something you can polish?”

“On second thought, I do want you gone!” As you continued to play with his face, the setter sniffled before curling his lips out into a pout. Cold. You were so damn cold.

“I’m just kidding. Come here, ice cream head.” After releasing his cheeks from your grip, you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him into a tight embrace. “I appreciate you a lot.”

Your words provided Oikawa a bit of comfort, but he continued to pout, aiming to tug on your heartstrings.

“You better.”

Let’s do it again, shall we - jimmy neutron 

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: so in this part and the next I have purposefully included little references to earlier parts & the prequel ;3 

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @yourstarvic @bringmelily @newfriendjen  @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @4fterh0urs @seikamuzu @namyari  @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose​ @fandomtrashpandasposts​ @helloalex80​ @stfucanunot​ @envyusshades​ @cuddlesslut​ @seijohiseliterambles​  @meiikuki​ @cuddlejeongin​ @tchalameme​ @ditu-m9​ @elianetsantana​

Taglist continued in the comments from my personal  ❣️

[silverhandjoytoys]

I got you, V.

Those words ricocheted off the walls of her mind, steadily growing louder with each passing second.

Told you that was a bad idea, but you just don't fuckin' listen.

Even when V was drifting somewhere between life and death, she could still hear the voice of the asshole rocker boy that lived in her.

The glitching was worse than it had ever been, making her feel as if her head was going to explode. She wasn't ready to die, but it seemed to be a foregone conclusion. It didn't matter how deep they went into finding a way to stop it, they were still so far away from a solution.

Come on, V, fight it.

Her eyes fluttered open sometime later. The smell of cigarettes and a dingy motel room filled her nostrils.

"Wha- fuck… Johnny?" She said, willing herself to sit up.

"Stay down, V. Need to take it easy." He appeared next to her, crouching next to the bed.

"What... where-" the room was blurred, objects barely formed as she tried to focus.

The only thing she could see clearly was Johnny. A hint of concern etched across his face, but she assumed it was just her vision.

"Brought you to a safe place. Those fucks won't find us here." Johnny said, answering a question she felt like she asked hours ago.

"Where... is here?" She struggled to return to full consciousness, head buzzing and vision distorting.

"Motel outside of the city. Stayed here a long time ago," he answered.

"This a they don't care if you vomit on the carpet kinda place?"

"Can't smell the aroma of vomit's past?" He asked with a little smirk.

V tried to laugh but she was hit with a shit storm of nausea and couldn't hold it back. She leaned over the edge of the bed and emptied the contents of her stomach at Johnny's feet.

"Barely missed me." He moved back.

V rolled back on the bed, feeling slightly better, "did you- how did you get me here?"

"Had to take your body over for a while. Only choice I had to keep you alive," he explained, stepping around her vomit to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Surprised I'm still alive after what you did the first time you were in control," she smirked and propped herself up against the headboard.

"Wasn't about to leave you in a pool of your own fluids." He kept his gaze on her.

V felt like she'd been hit by a truck, "thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you riding shotgun." She smiled slightly, trying to ignore the buzzing in her head.

"Guess there are some benefits to sharing the same body." He pulled a cigarette out and lit it.

There was something oddly comforting about it. Like a certain amount of stability had returned just from seeing him smoke. Normalcy in the midst of chaos.

"You ever wish you'd gotten stuck with someone else?" V asked.

"Someone with a dick maybe." He passed the cigarette to V.

"I can only imagine the chaos you'd cause if you had full access to someone's dick." She took the cigarette from his fingers.

Normally she wasn't one for smoking, but it was becoming a habit after a black out.

"You have terrible taste in sex partners," he chided.

"Still won't let the whole River thing go, huh?" V grinned and passed the cigarette back as she blew out a stream of smoke.

"A cop, V. You made me fuck a cop."

"Oh, then I can only assume you came too? Does that mean... you enjoyed it?" She grinned.

"Fuck you." Johnny shook his head and plucked the cigarette from her fingers.

"Had to feel good since you're feeling everything same as me. River is a God with his tongue." V pulled her knees up to her chest and watched Johnny take a long drag of the cigarette.

"Can we at least talk about future fucking? I should have a say," he said after a long silence.

"Okay, who did you have in mind?" V was curious if this was something he'd put actual thought into.

"Anyone with tits and a pussy." He said.

"That narrows it down a bit. I'm all for fucking chicks, but can we be a little more... selective?" 

"Selective? The fuck does that mean?" Johnny furrowed his brow.

"No back alley hookers for one." V explained.

"Joytoys need attention too, V."

"Wait, so you'll bitch about flirting with Judy, but you're okay with back alley hookers?" She asked.

"Don't get me started on Judy," he warned, passing her the cigarette.

"Sound a little jealous there, Silverhand."

"Never been jealous before, ain't about to start." He shook his head.

V grinned and scooted closer, placing her hand on his shoulder, "don't deny it, you get all grumpy when Judy's around." 

"Don't get grumpy either." He shrugged her hand off his shoulder.

V burst out laughing, even though it hurt to do so. "When are you not grumpy?"

"All the time, just said it," he replied without hesitation.

"Liar," V said, feeling his side for another cigarette.

"Told ya smoking is bad. No more," he grumbled, pushing her hand away.

"Seriously? Your first words when you crawled out of my psyche were where are my smokes." V reached for him again.

"No more. Need to keep your health up, what's left of it." He grabbed her wrist.

"Johnny, how do you feel when you're denied smokes?" She inquired.

"Doesn't matter what I feel, this is about you." He pulled another cigarette out and lit it.

"I'm literally getting taken over by you. Give me a goddamn cigarette." She reached for the one between his lips, but he caught her arms.

"Don't make me tie you up." He was able to hold her arms back with little effort.

If V hadn't been curious about him tying her up, she would've been concerned about her lack of strength.

"You wouldn't. Plus, you need me mobile so we can destroy shit."

"Not tonight, I don't. Told you to rest," he warned again.

"I'm not tired. At least let me sit up and smoke with you," V pushed, scooting closer to him.

"You're being more annoying than usual. Upset I used your body without permission?"

"Used my body would be an understatement. You took my body for a joyride." V tried for the cigarette again, this time winning the fight.

She knew it was only because he allowed her too though.

"Got you back in one piece, didn't I?" He asked.

"Barely. I'll need a week soaking in a tub and another week to sleep." She put the cigarette up to her lips.

"Gonna have to accept sleeping on a bed stained with bodily fluids and a shower that might not work."

"You couldn't bring me to a resort?" V joked.

"I brought you here for a reason, V," he admitted without so much as a glance in her direction.

V sat up a little more, "what reason is that? Getting tetanus?" 

"Can you stand?" He turned towards her.

"Yeah, wh-"

"Come over here." He stood without explanation.

V slid off the bed and stood up slowly, letting her legs adjust for a moment before straightening up. She shuffled towards the kitchen, trying to avoid the large stains on the floor.

"Open up that cabinet and lift up the bottom board." He leaned against the wall while she carefully crouched to open it up.

"What am I lookin' for?" She asked, searching for a good spot to lift up the board.

She popped the board out and sat it to the side. She reached in and grabbed two metal dog tags on a chain.

"Are these-"

"Mine." He answered.

V sat back against the wall, turning the tags in her hands, "they've been here all this time?"

"Had to pry that board up myself," he said, stepping in front of her.

"Johnny... I- why are you giving me these?" V felt the significance of the moment right away. Johnny wouldn't do something like that if it was meaningless to him.

"Never found anyone worthy of having them, not one, until I met you, V." Johnny struggled to look up at her.

"Johnny-"

"You had to accept me coming into your life with no warning. Probably know me better than anyone ever has." He watched as she put them around her neck.

"Really didn't have much of a choice, but I'll be honest, I like having you around," V replied, letting the tags rest between her cleavage.

"Of all the people I could've ended up stuck in, I'm glad it was you." 

The softest grin played on his lips and V realized it was the first time she'd seen him genuinely smile. No hint of anger, spite, or sarcasm at all.

She could've come back with a snarky comment like their usual banter but reconsidered. She couldn't ruin the surprisingly soft side he just revealed.

"I uh... thanks, Johnny. Means a lot." She stepped closer and kissed his cheek.

Johnny tensed and V froze, both of them realizing they'd never actually been this close to one another, even though they were connected. V placed her hand on his cheek and turned towards him, hesitating before pressing her lips to his softly.

V noticed his hesitation immediately and began to pull away, but he grabbed her hips and brought her back.

"You don't have to... I- I probably shouldn't have... "

He silenced her with a soft kiss that quickly turned harsh. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in closer, his lips moving perfectly against hers. When he finally released her she was in a daze, feeling like the breath had been taken from her lungs.

"Johnny, I-"

"Been curious about that." He said.

"Yeah? Why'd you wait so long?" She teased as she tried to regain her composure.

"Didn't think you wanted it. Why'd you waste your time on the cop?"

"Just can't let that go, can ya?" She laughed and leaned in for a hug.

"Never will. Still annoys me." He pulled her in and held her pressed against his chest.

"I wouldn't have fucked him had I known you wanted this." V was enjoying the softness of his touch as he ran his hands down her sides to her hips.

"Guess we need to communicate better," he said.

"And here I thought our problem was too much communication." She kissed his neck without thinking and paused, unsure if he was ready for more.

Johnny let out a soft sigh, "you need to rest."

"I'm not tired. Especially not now." V said, not moving away from him.

"Not really sure of this is a good idea." Johnny said.

"Since when do you worry about that?" V pressed her lips to his neck again.

"Since I started to like havin' you around," he admitted, but he made no move to stop you.

"Isn't that a good reason to keep going?" She pulled back, searching his expression for an answer.

"Relationships with me tend to break down once the fucking starts."

"It's not like you can leave though." V shrugged.

"Might not work out like you think." He  stood still and let her continue to kiss along his jaw.

"It might work out better than you think." V placed her hand on his chest.

"Stop and think it over before you keep doin' that, V." He let out a low grunt as she continued to kiss closer to his lips.

"Already thought about it, Johnny," she whispered, breath hot against his skin.

His hand was around her throat in an instant as he shifted their positions, pressing her back against the wall.

"Ain't no going back after. Sure you want this?" Johnny's lips were close, but just out of reach for her.

"Yes, Johnny. Tell me you don't?" She was already panting for him.

"Pretty sure you know the answer to that, V," he said softly.

"Then take what you want," she whispered, eyes darting between his eyes and lips.

"Exactly what I've always done and it usually doesn't end well."

"But not with me." V was struggling to keep from begging. 

"V-"

"Please, Johnny?" She asked softly, hoping he'd give in to what they both wanted.

He pulled her into a harsh kiss, making her moan at the sudden contact.

His hands moved down her sides to grab the hem of her tanktop and pull it over her head. The sound of his dog tags clinging as they fell back to her chest was like music to his ears.

Johnny returned his lips to hers as if he was dying for another taste. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him flush against her. His hands moved down to her pants, working at the button and her belt until he could push her pants down to her knees.

He had to concentrate on being gentle with her after what happened. That wasn't his usual style, but for her, he was willing to change things up. He was finally understanding why it could be satisfying to put someone else's needs above his own. V more than deserved that, especially after he was dropped unceremoniously into her psyche.

"Damn shoes." She sighed as she worked to get them off.

"No rush, V." Johnny said as he trailed his lips down her neck.

She finally got them off and shuffled out of her pants. She pulled him close and kissed him again, needing to feel his lips against her once more.

"We're going slow. Can't have you feeling worse." He slowly walked her towards the bed and gently laid her down.

"You don't have to treat me like glass, Johnny. Not gonna break that easy."

"No doubts that you're tough, V. But you need to take it easy." He crawled on the bed and peeled her panties off, settling between her thighs.

"Just relax," he said as he lowered his head and slid his tongue up her cunt.

V inhaled sharply at the feeling of his tongue flicking over her clit.

"Fuck, Johnny." She squirmed.

"Still, V." He ordered and ducked his head back down to focus on eating her out.

She gripped the sheets beneath her and tried to stay still, but it was proving to be a lot harder than she thought.

The only sounds in the room were her shallow breaths and the faint sound of Johnny's tongue lapping at her clit.

The bed creaked beneath her the harder he pressed her into the mattress.

"Johnny..." V panted for him the closer she got to coming.

"Let go for me, V." Johnny said.

She held on as long as she could, not ready for it to end.

"Don't be stubborn, V," he said, breath warm against her skin.

"You're the stubborn one, Johnny, remember?" She moaned as she squirmed beneath him.

Johnny grinned and dove back in, moving his tongue faster and easing two fingers into her. V bucked and writhed  until she couldn't hold on any longer.

"Fuck... don't stop- right there." She moaned loudly as she came.

[heavenly-roman]

how sweet it is (to be loved by you)

Plot: Prince Virgil makes a new friend.

Warnings: mentions of a dead parent, kissing

Pairing(s): anxceit

Word Count: 2899

for my lovely boyfriend @figurative-siren-song as part of the @sanderssidesgiftxchange !! happy holidays cas, i love you ❤️ (also!! a big thank you to @ratherstarryeyed for acting as a beta!! ur a simp and i appreciate u!!)

chapter one - chapter two

+++

The carriage shakes as the horses trot onto the gravel, Virgil holding his head up with his fist.

“Virgil, please, could you look at least a little interested?” His mother isn’t quite scolding, her tone just edging on exasperated.

“You always told me not to lie, though,” grumbles Virgil. The Queen fixes him with a glare, and he sighs, forcefully smiling. “Better?”

“Much,” she replies teasingly. The carriage comes to a stop, and she turns her full attention to her son. “Please try to be respectful.”

“When have you known me to be disrespectful?” Virgil’s mischievous grin causes his mother to crack a smile.

“Behave, Virgil,” she tells him fondly. The door opens, and the driver helps his mother out of the carriage. He then moves to Virgil’s side, and the Prince grumbles again, something about being able to help himself, thank you very much.

Standing outside of the foreign palace is the royal family, the king and queen—whose names Virgil forgot to remind himself of before they arrived—and their son, Prince Janus. Their guards surround them, and Virgil finds himself counting the amount of men during the small talk.

“A pleasure to see you again, Your Majesties,” Virgil’s mother greets the family, bowing. She flicks Virgil on the back of the head, and he bows as well.

“The pleasure is ours,” replies the King. He faces Virgil and bows, who scrambles to bow again. “Good evening, Your Highness. I believe you’ve yet to meet our son, Prince Janus, who will be your tour guide for this visit. I’m sure you two will get on well.”

Prince Janus bows, and Virgil is getting real sick of bowing already. He holds his gloved hand out, beckoning Virgil. “Our parents have much to discuss, please follow me to your chambers.”

Hesitantly, Virgil takes his hand, letting the Prince lead him to who knows where. Janus doesn’t speak, and Virgil is not about to start a conversation with a near stranger, so the walk is silent.

“Here,” says Janus, stopping abruptly, and Virgil catches himself just in time to not crash into him. “This is your room.”

“You’re a lot less polite than before,” Virgil thinks aloud.

“Congratulations, Einstein, I had no clue,” Janus snarks. “No royal obligation to be polite without my parents around.”

“So no tour?” Virgil asks.

“Not unless you pay me, Prince Purple.” Janus scoffs. “I only willingly spend time with people I like.”

“How do you know you don’t like me if you haven’t spent time with me?”

“Are you royal?”

Bewildered, Virgil gestures to himself. “Clearly.”

“Then I don’t like you,” Janus deadpans.

Before Virgil can defend himself, Janus turns, walking away from the most baffling conversation Virgil has ever had.

+++

“So, Prince Virgil,” the Queen addresses him. “Did Janus give you a satisfactory tour of the palace?”

Janus glares at him from above his wine glass, and Virgil swallows hard.

“Uh, Yes, it was… good,” he says lamely, cringing at his very eloquent word choice.

“Wonderful!” She smiles. “So you’ll have no problem finding your way around for the next few months.”

“Months?” Both Virgil and Janus exclaim, twin expressions of shock on both their faces.

“Yes, well…” Virgil’s mother starts. “We believe the best way to continue the peace between our kingdom would be… a marriage.”

“I don’t have a sister, Mother,” Virgil says, though he’s sure he knows where this is going.

“I do know how many children I have, Virgil,” she says, nearly rolling her eyes. “Dear, do you remember what you told me last month? About your… preferences?”

“Are you saying that we have to get married?” Janus interrupts, his expression a mix of fear and mild disgust.

“Janus, don’t be rude!” his father admonishes. “This is the most sound way to keep the peace.”

“Well,” Virgil shrugs, knowing this is an argument he can’t win. He glances at Janus. “Looks like you’re going to be finding out if you like me.”

+++

Janus, to his credit, does decide to take Virgil on a tour after dinner.

“And here is the library,” Janus says, the same bored tone he’s carried throughout the whole night.

Virgil moves away from Janus’, wandering through the hundreds of bookshelves, awestruck. He plucks book after book, scanning the contents and putting them back.

“What, don’t have a library back home?” Janus snarks, just a hint of fondness in his voice that he will deny if brought up.

“Not as big as this, no,” says Virgil, still starstruck. “I think we have a third of your collection.”

“My father loves reading,” Janus shrugs. “He used to read to me when I was a child.”

“He doesn’t read as much anymore?” Virgil asks absently as he continues flipping through random books he finds.

“No time,” Janus sighs. “Too much responsibility now, being the King and all. Did you ever read with your dad?”

Janus knows he said the wrong thing as he watches Virgil’s shoulders tense and his hands pause.

“No,” he says, his voice tight. “I didn’t get to read with my father.”

“Virgil—“

“Drop it.” He forces a teasing smile. “You may be my fiancé, but save the personal questions for after the wedding.”

Janus lets the silence drag on, watching Virgil once again become mesmerized by the array of novels.

“Virgil?” Janus calls, tentative. His head shoots up, and Janus clears his throat. “We had a nook. Would you like to see it?”

The other prince nods, and Janus grabs his hand—so he doesn’t get lost, shut up—and leads him to a dark corner of the library.

A worn down chair sits there, as well as another, much smaller bean bag chair. There’s a table as well, holding up a desk lamp and a few books, all collecting dust.

“I guess that one was the Kings?” Virgil says, pointing to the bean bag. Janus snorts, shaking his head fondly.

“You’re a handful, Prince Virgil.”

“So I’ve been told, Prince Janus.”

+++

When he’s not being dragged around the palace by his fiancé, Virgil chooses to spend most of his time in his room, overthinking.

The hand holding. The snarky comments laced with fondness. The scooching chairs to sit closer. The flushed cheeks when Janus innocently compliments him—

Fuck.

Virgil has a crush.

Virgil has a crush on someone who he barely even knows.

It’s not like he can help it, with the way Janus smiles at him, and the way his eyes twinkle with mischief before he does something that’s bound to get the two into trouble.

“Virgil?” A knock startles him out of his thoughts, Janus peeking his head in and smiling when his eyes meet Virgil’s. “You okay?”

“Of course!” Virgil says, trying to keep his recent realization to himself. He smiles tightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I knocked on your door about four times before you answered?” Janus raises his eyebrow. He shuts the door and sits opposite of Virgil on the bed. “You’re hiding something.”

“Just lost in thought, I suppose,” Virgil shrugs. At Janus’ skeptical look, he sighs. “Seriously, Jan, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Janus says after a minute or so. “I trust you to tell me if something is wrong, so I believe you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Virgil’s sarcasm seeps into his words. “So kind of you to trust me after continuous convincing.”

Janus grabs Virgil’s hands, and Virgil’s cheeks do not heat up, thank you very much. “You know I really do trust you, right? You’re one of the few.”

“Of course I do, Jay,” Virgil squeezes his hands. He chuckles. “Gotta trust your fiancé.”

Janus pulls his hands away with a fond head shake, and Virgil resists the urge to pout. “Nope, that’s it, you ruined the moment, we’re getting a divorce.”

“We’re not married yet, you idiot,” Virgil says between laughs.

“You’re right,” Janus ponders. He drops to one knee, miming opening a ring box. “Prince Virgil, will you marry me?”

Virgil gasps, holding an exaggeratedly shocked hand to his chest. “Of course I’ll marry you, Prince Janus!”

“Perfect,” Janus nods. “I want a divorce.”

“You love me too much to divorce me,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

“Gross Virgil, that’s gay,” he scoffs, before leaning in to clarify, “not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. In fact, my own fiancé is gay.”

Virgil is laughing too hard to respond, and Janus joins in, both laughing until their stomachs hurt.

Janus forgets why he came to visit Virgil in the first place.

+++

“Are you even gay?” Virgil blurts one day.

Janus sputters, almost choking on his wine. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do you like men?” Virgil asks, clearly not backing down. He doesn’t hope for a certain answer, absolutely not.

“I…” Janus swallows hard. “I thought we were saving personal questions for after the wedding?”

“Janus.”

“I don’t want to discuss this, Virgil—”

“My father died when I was young.”

“Virgil, you don’t have to—”

“I never read with him because he was gone by the time I knew how. My mother doesn’t like to talk about him, and I don’t remember much about him, so…” Virgil shrugs. “I avoid talking about him.”

“I… Vee, I’m so sorry,” Janus frowns. “I couldn’t imagine my life without my father.”

“I can’t imagine my life with mine,” Virgil sighs. “So, I answered your personal question. You can answer mine.”

“Virgil.” Janus fixes him with an incredulous look. “Did you tell me about your father because you’re nosy?”

“I’m not nosy,” Virgil huffs. “I just want to know if my fiancé is attracted to me.”

Janus smirks, leaning impossibly close to Virgil. “Why do you want to know? Does someone have a little crush?”

“What? No!” Virgil flushes, and hides his hands in his sleeves.

“No need to be embarrassed, dear,” drawls Janus. His smirk grows wider. “It’s cute.”

Virgil pushes Janus’ chest away from him as the latter laughs. “You’re a jerk, Jay.”

“That’s no way to speak to your fiancé, Prince Virgil,” Janus gasps, an offended hand placed on his chest.

“It is when your fiancé is a jerk,” reasons Virgil.

Janus’ offence doesn’t lessen, and the two playfully argue for the next two hours.

Not that either of them are counting.

+++

[tothemeadow]

at least I’m trying

➜ pairing: rengoku kyoujuro x reader ➜ warnings: struggling with addiction, blood, death, angst with happy ending. ➜ words: 5k ➜ a/n: i post more of my works at @thgreatestblue!

@redgokus hi!! i worked very hard on this piece and i’m very pleased with how it turned out. i hope you like it as well!! happy holidays! ❤ 

summary: Smoking was almost like breathing underwater. Not that you didn’t feel like you have been drowning all your life. A gentle hand is all it takes for you to finally realize that maybe staying underwater wasn’t the best option. 

I.

The night was cold as the winter was right around the corner - the landscape changing ever so slowly but gradually. When you first came here, the flowers were blooming and growing strong in the garden while the bees flew by each one of them. The colors of the spring painted a beautiful portrait, making the scenery more lively than ever. The soil was a healthy shade of brown and the grass around the State was as soft as your feet could tell.

Mitsuri Kanroji was kind enough to let you stay. After she saved you from a Demon attack, you were brought to her house, and she took you under her wing - since there was nowhere and no one for you to return to. She had been so overwhelmingly kind and thoughtful of you - taking care of your injuries every day, cooking your favorite food - that to retribute her generosity, you decided to join the Demon Slayer Corps.

However, the memory still lingered like bad perfume. You father shielding you from demonic claws that attacked you two one night when coming back from the restaurant he used to work. All you can remember is the strong scent of cigarettes coming from him as he hugged you one last time.

And maybe that’s why you ended up here. With a cigarette between your lips, gazing at the sky on a peaceful night. The moon was hidden behind heavy clouds as the atmosphere darkened without its shine. Smoking was almost like breathing underwater. Not that you didn’t feel like you have been drowning all your life.

“You shouldn’t be smoking.”

A strong and very familiar voice comes from beside you - making you curse internally. His tone wasn’t particularly angry, but the indication was there. You turn your head to the left, lifting your body from the wall you were leaning on to face the owner of that voice - who has been on your mind more often than you would like to admit. The Flame Pillar was standing at the entrance of the house, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at you.

And you could swear every time he looked at you when there was a cigarette between your lips, his eyes would darken to a different shade – as if he was trying to burn the devil on your tongue through sheer power of his stare.

Sometimes, you wondered if that was even possible. Sometimes, like today, you were sure of it.

“If it’s going to put your heart at peace,” There’s a hint of sarcasm in your voice; it was almost like second nature by now, building walls around as soon as someone tried to take a look inside - and truth be told, it was quite a mess. You slowly blow the smoke out your mouth and nose, “I don’t do this frequently.”

Mitsuri’s State was one of the most frequented by the Pillars, since she was friends with probably all of them. Her personality was bubbly and sweet, it was easy to be around her - that’s why you had stayed in the first place. It was common to see them coming and going, mostly Obanai, Shinobu and Kyojuro.

Kyojurou’s bushy brows furrowed deeper. It wasn’t the first time you threw snarky comments like that at him. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you smoking either. Though, every time; without failing, he would hold his intense stare at you for a few seconds, a disapproving look written all over his face.

You would just shrug it off; making sure to take another drag before fiercely returning his stare with the same intensity. Sometimes he would look away first, sometimes you did. Although it was easy, pretending it didn’t turn your stomach all over and made you sick – thinking you didn’t have his respect - it still burned your wounds like fresh water. 

This was the first time he decided to speak his mind, though.

“What about your lungs?” He asks, stepping closer to where you are standing, eyes fixed on your hand that is holding the cigarette. Something twists inside you, heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t every day that a Pillar - the Flame Pillar above everyone else - would step in your personal space with accusing eyes that burned holes in your face. “It’s going to damage your breathing.”

You shift from one foot to another, looking anywhere but at the man who was right beside you now. Not that it made any difference; Kyojurou had a strong aura surrounding his being - it was overwhelming - the way he was graced with such a powerful presence and unshakeable will. The air is thick around you; the warmth of his body is noticeable even though there is a small distance between you two. 

Out of habit, you bring your hand towards your mouth for another drag. Anything to numb the confusing anxiety; the rise of your heartbeats, the heat on your neck that spreads to your cheeks that intensifies every second that his attention is on you. 

Before you could reach your mouth though, Kyojuro stops you, holding your wrist midway. It sends a shiver down your spine but you don’t back off; nor let it show how a single touch from him made you react so intensely.

“I’m going to die before facing the issue that comes with smoking, Flame Pillar.” You challenge him by trying to shake your hand off his grip, but it’s firm and strong, imprinting the heat of his big fingers on your bare skin. You knew you weren’t going to forget the feeling of his hands so soon; after all, fire always leaves imprints.

“What?” Finally looking at him, still annoyed by his interference but not exactly angry. It was a mix of feelings you didn’t want to separate and catalog just yet. 

Kyojuro’s golden and beautiful eyes stare at you with a piercing gaze; you don’t know if that’s a good sign or not. This close, you catch a hint of red at the seams of his iris that you’ve never noticed before - you have never been mere inches from his face before as well.

You can’t help but stare at him in return, silence falling between you two. His eyes burn bright against the dark of the night, consuming you all together. Kyojuro gently takes the cigarette from your fingers with his other hand and throws it on the ground, making sure to step on it to make his point as clear as water. 

You take a long breath, running your free hand through your hair, all this situation making you even more nervous. “You know I have more cigarettes with me, right?”

He sighs but doesn’t look resigned. Yet. For a second, you think he’s going to back off and continue on his way. Instead, he takes a deep and long breath, squeezing your wrist so slightly that if you weren’t so self aware of his touch you wouldn’t have noticed. Your heart skips another beat. 

“I’ve seen what addiction does to someone,” Kyojuro speaks, almost like a whisper; making you shiver with his lower tone, so close to you. Something crosses his eyes, a hint of sadness dripping down onto his words. “I would hate to see you going down that path.”

You swallow down, throat suddenly going dry. It wasn’t a secret, at least between the Pillars, that his father was addicted to alcohol; one of the reasons why he had dropped from the positions a few years ago. It wasn’t a secret that his wife’s death was such a low blow that never allowed Kyojuro’s father to get on his feet ever again. 

Mitsuri once said he had become a shell of himself, slowly drowning in his own grief between each bottle of alcohol. He had become a bitter man, nothing could make him happy, not even seeing his own child becoming a strong soldier, worthy enough to take his place. What once was pride and joy now was aches from a flame that burned too bright but lost its power too soon. 

Was Kyojuro worried that you would take the same path? Was he looking after you all this time, hoping he could change at least your fate? Does he truly care about you?

The back of your neck burns hot with the thought, your cheeks following after. The mere thought of Kyojuro thinking; worrying; looking after you is enough to send you to a dangerous place where you never dared putting a single foot on it. 

“I can stop whenever I want.” You look away, defeated. 

“Then do it.” Kyojuro encourages you, almost pleading. He cups your hand between his, the warmth of it is pleasing, soothing. “If not for you, do it for me.”

It’s almost comical how fast your eyes met his again, mind going blank with the request. If you were going to say something, you don’t know anymore. The only sound you can hear comes from your own heart, rapidly beating in your chest - and you hoped Kyojuro couldn’t hear them. If it wasn’t for his pinning stare and the weight of his calloused hands tenderly holding yours, you would be gone in a minute. 

Actually, you don’t know for how long you stayed there - lost on a trip to the sun. Where the golden rays burned your skin, stripped you down to the bone. Igniting an old purpose, almost faded from your memory - now catching fire and spreading throughout your whole being. 

He offers you a gentle smile, one that you can’t help but reciprocate, small and weak but as gentle. Kyojuro squeezes your hand one more time before letting go. You don’t want to admit, but his touch still lingers like a fresh burn scar, one that you would gladly ask for more. 

Only when you watch him walk away, you notice you weren’t breathing.

It’s a different type of drowning, you decide.

II.

You didn’t mean to. You really didn’t.

However, it happened. And now you felt like a complete idiot. The words came out of your mouth before you could slow them down, before you could chew them, making it easy to digest. A rampage you didn’t see it coming, which made everything worse.

It’s been two weeks since you stopped smoking. And even though you tried to convince yourself that you could do it at any given time; it turned out to be a far more difficult task than killing Demons. And above everything else, the lingering feeling that your father was slowly disappearing from your memories was something you couldn’t take. 

In the first few days it was quite easy; ignoring the way your body asked for just a simple drag. The way your mind started to play tricks with you, demanding a cigarette between your lips. Words of self-loathing, degradation; depressed thoughts that were a rarity; clouded by the smoke. Now, they were being whispered in your mind constantly - there wasn’t a barrier to stop them anymore.

The chatter started to become louder, progressively making your mood worse each day that you chose to not open your father’s small metal case filled with cigarettes before heading out to work. Not having something to hold on to, to distract yourself when an innocent life was taken, when blood dripped down your katana, when the sun would take too long to appear in the sky again - it was too much. The smell was the worst part, once clogged by the scent of nicotine, now was hitting your nostrils like a bullet – another barrier gone, leaving you out in the open.

You hadn’t noticed until now how smoking had become a part of your routine - part of who you were. How much you felt safe in the arms of the addiction. It helped you go through your job without problem, without a second thought. However, now you felt like a veil had lifted from your eyes, and you could see the world less misty, less foggy at the seams.

You weren’t sure if that was a good sign. Actually, no. It wasn’t.

The shakiness of your hands began to make it difficult to hold your katana. More often than not you found yourself missing the target, your eyes playing tricks with your vision, the anxiety taking over your body. A thin thread was the only thing holding your patience and self-control all together. 

Until Mitsuri pointed out your strange behavior that night. Although you knew she hadn’t meant to call you out; you were on the verge of a dilemma you didn’t want to be. Trying each day to stay clean was starting to seem impossible at this point. Anger and annoyance were bubbling inside you, every day waking up with a headache because you couldn’t sleep; having to deal with fatigue throughout the night - the thoughts about your father were driving you to the edge.

All it took was a small push for you to dive in. And the commentary - even though unharmful - was enough to finally push you into the abyss. Irritated, something inside you snapped, making you shout things you didn’t mean to, but came out of your own mouth anyway. Remembering the look on her face was enough to make you cry.

“Damn it!” The punch on the wall wasn’t enough to distract you from the growing conflict inside you. Dawn was coming soon enough but the night was still a nightmare. 

Smoking never bothered you, so why were you trying anyway? Why were you going through this torture if it wasn’t a problem to begging with? Everything was fine, you were doing fine. So why were you putting yourself through such pain and regret; when the only thing you got from this was even more problems?

You don’t think twice before grabbing the small metal case from your pocket. Even though you stopped smoking, you still carried it with you, it was enough to bring relief on days that the chatter in your head was too loud – having something to ground yourself in reality again.

With shaking hands, you open the case. There were still a few cigarettes inside, and like you did countless times, you picked one. The familiarity of the acts brings a sense of melancholy; putting the cigarette between your lips, lighting up the match.

However, this time you hesitate. The weight of the cigarette on your lips is heavy. The warmth of the fire next to your face isn’t as welcoming as it used to be. It was like coming back home but finding out that it’s empty, there’s nothing you can hold onto to make it better. 

You stare at the flames; the fire flicks with the wind, dancing between your fingers as it burns down the match. Still, you don’t light the cigarette. Dawn reflects on the embers and it reminds of big, golden eyes, vibrant red at the seams. Shining in the night, like a beacon. Warming up the day, like the sun.

You remember his words, his voice engraved in your mind when there was nothing to keep the spiraling thoughts at bay; cutting through them like the sharpest sword ever made.

Do it for me.

It’s so gentle that it makes your heart throb; the fragile state of it cracks, marking the intrinsic shape of your heart with thin fissures all over the form. But it doesn’t break. Yet.

“Dam it, Kyojuro.” But there is no anger in your voice.

You close your eyes, leaning on the wall. There’s a pleasant breeze hitting your face as the morning finally comes.

Resigned, you throw the cigarette on the ground.  

lll.

When the first snowflake fell from the sky into the cold of the night, your body shivered from head to toe. The haunting of the hills penetrating your clothes, into your skin and down to your bones; like the frigid weather of the winter. As the snow fell, you watched little puffs of white air coming out of your mouth; condensing into a misty plume, dancing in front of you in a torturous memory of smoke.

You tried to steady your breath, but not even the purest snow could bring you peace. 

The cold air burns your throat, pouring waves of agonizing cold into your lungs; burning on the inside. As you try to steady your breath, it starts to become a painful task at each minute; your hand is gripping the material of your clothes over your heart, the feeling of the beats reverberating through the night. 

The contrast between the heat of your body and the icy feeling of the snow is enough to make you melt, transforming you in a puddle of your own self as your knees hit the ground in a muffled thud. 

Winter is at its full, the moon casts a phantasmagory glimmer and everything seems like a faded memory from the past. One you tried to forget, but like a ghost, it never ceased to haunt you. Never allowed you to stray too far away from shore.

Two bodies lay in front of you. A father and a daughter. Staining the pure white snow with an evil shade of scarlet red. It’s ugly.

You watch helplessly as the blood slowly covers the snow; growing darker and bigger; the puddle of the still hot liquid hitting your knees sends another shiver down your spine. It makes you want to puke. 

The air doesn’t burn your throat anymore, but your lungs scream for something you can’t pinpoint. You watch as the streams of blood pour down the mountain, a river flowing down from its source; everything becomes faded as the shadows grow darker around the corner of your vision. The grip on your clothes is so tight your knuckles turn white.

There’s an incessant feeling in your stomach; turning and shifting from side to another. Flashes of memories overflow your mind; pouring down your heart and filling your veins like poison. At this point you should be used to drowning in those feelings, but they still take your breath each time nonetheless. 

Nothing makes sense. Everything makes sense. 

“Y/N, breathe.” Someone calls your name; a faded sound in the background of a total cacophony of thoughts still overflowing your head. 

It’s heavy, it hurts.

Then, there’s a firm grip on your shoulders and suddenly the scene is covered, but the imprint of it still remains on your memory. The shadow of a failed mission hits you harder than ever before. The smell of blood is unbearable, black dots appear on your vision, making it hard to focus, to see. 

“You need to breathe, Y/N.” The voice tries again; touching your chin, lifting you face so you could stare two golden eyes shining bright in the night.

Kyojuro gently cups and holds your face between his hands, tender eyes looking at you. His palms always seemed to hold the heat of the sun somehow. It warms your freezing face in a few seconds; melting the snow that had started to cover your heart. A welcoming change of season that puts you on rotation again. 

You breathe in. Breathe out. 

“Just like that, breathe.” He says, encouraging you with small strokes of his thumb on your cheek. It’s a delicate movement, wiping away tears that you had shed without knowing. 

Your lungs scream in pain; this time because of the cold air entering them, not the lack of it. The shadows around the corner of your vision slowly diffuses, leaving you with a clear view of his face, so close to yours - so beautifully full of alive. 

Fatigue begins to settle down on your bones. You’re tired. Tired of trying; tired of fighting everyday against an evil you know you can’t defeat, not alone. It’s a battle you showed up with only a wood sword while the others were wearing shiny armors and swords made out of steel.  

Kyojuro’s hand runs down your neck, bringing your face closer; slowly guiding you to put your head on his shoulder. His other arm wraps around your body in a half hug; hand caressing your back. You feel like crying again. The heat of his body involves you - it reminds you of a fireplace, comforting and keeping you warm throughout the harsh winter. Kyojuro’s hands, although calloused, are more than welcomed to touch your face. 

Feeling like something is missing, your shaky hands reach out inside your Haori, grabbing the little metal case that once belonged to your father; it finally grounds you in the moment with a last sense of comfort, but you don’t open it. 

Instead, you take a deep breath. Deeping your face on his shoulder, breathing in Kyojuro’s smell. it’s soothing; like staying in the sun when it’s cold; when the hot tea runs down your throat and warms your entire body. 

“You’re really doing this for me, aren’t you?” He whispers in your ears, thumb still rubbing your cheeks in a slow motion. 

You couldn’t get enough of this feeling. When was the last time someone had held you this close with such tender care? You couldn’t bring yourself to return the hug, hands still gripping the case. However, you really did appreciate his touch. Lighting every single part of your body that was still in the dark, reaching even the corners you didn’t want to visit. 

“I’m here now,” Kyojuro’s tender words make your heart beat fast, doing wonders for your broken spirit. It’s so gentle that it’s enough to bring your walls down; make you open your door and let him in. 

“And I’m going to take care of you.” Kyojuro kisses your forehead. 

And just like that, your heart throbs again; painfully aware of the impact of those words. What they truly meant. The cracks in your heart grow bigger, snapping at the seams that were still holding the fragile organ together. 

And you break. 

But this time, Kyojuro’s there to hold your broken pieces. 

IV.

When the colors of the trees started to look more vivid by each day, slowly growing leaves and making the landscape more friendly, more inviting. When you could see hints of buds of flowers fighting to grow in the backyard of the State, when the bees came out of their houses more frequently – making Mitsuri plan her next honey production - you knew spring was coming. The change of season came, changing the scenario, changing you.

Those past few months were a journey you never intend to go. If you were being honest, you would’ve never followed that path. At some point you even looked back, took a few steps backwards; not knowing if you were close to the end, or still in the start. 

Then there was Kyojuro, gripping your hand so tight you couldn’t think about letting go; pulling you further the path. When you thought it was impossible to keep going, he would sit down with you and hold you in his arms. You couldn’t overcome your addiction in one day, it was a long path, one that he was willing to stay and make some company as you put yourself back together. 

You weren’t alone anymore. And that made your journey so much easier.

The sun was high in the sky, the spring had just arrived and you couldn’t wait to taste Mitsuri’s famous honey again – this time you would truly appreciate the taste - couldn’t wait to sit in the garden and take care of the flowers while watching the butterflies fly around you. Spring has always been your favorite season, there was a magical feeling to it; bringing everything back to life; the colors; the animals; nature. A promise of a fresh beginning for everyone, mostly for you. 

The water is cold against your body as you swim carelessly. The day was warm; the sun in all its glory in the sky. The river at Himejima’s State was always a degree colder than it should be, but after some time you got used to it. It had been a while since you swam, you liked the feeling of being afloat, how the water made you feel lighter and cleaner. 

Cleaning your mind after the storm that crashed through was a tough task, one that took quite some time; but with the need to wipe the place and rebuild everything from scratch, there were some things you found you had long forgotten, hidden underneath broken furniture and shattered glass. 

One of them was your love for spring, for calmness and for swimming. Long gone were the days you spent with your father by the lake next to your house; where you two would spend the day washing clothes and splashing water at each other. However, it wasn’t a bitter memory. Not anymore. 

“Hey! I see that you’re starting the day quite well!” Kyojuro’s voice is recognizable even from afar, you didn’t need to open your eyes to know that he was approaching. Your heart though, was another story. 

“You found me.” You say with a smile on your face, still not daring to open your eyes. 

Kyojuro had become a great friend after the day you broke down in front of him. You knew the Pillar was a kind and honorable man - Mitsuri had only good things to say about him. However, there was always a tension when you two were in the same room; it was heavier as the days passed and his eyes on you weren’t as welcome as you wish they were. 

Your paranoia played a great part in your relationship with him. Only when your walls came crumbling down and he was the first to step in; showing that all this time, it was just concern behind golden eyes, you stopped putting traps along the way, letting him in without a fight. 

“How are you holding up?” His voice is closer now, probably by the riverbank. 

You were good; for the first time you weren’t telling a lie to yourself. There was no desire to smoke anymore, not when you knew how it felt being clean. How you could taste Mitsuri’s food better; not smelling like smoke all the time. And most important, you had got so much better at the breathing technique. All the missions you went were a success, and you were proud of yourself – a foreign feeling that you were still getting used to. 

“I’m…” You trailed off, getting caught up by the sight before you. Kyojuro was stripping down his clothes, his perfect toned chest glowing as the sun framed his perfect form. Your face is a shade redder as you quickly averted your eyes “…Good.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

You hear the sound of splashing water, followed by some movement from beside you. You take a deep breath before looking at his direction again. He’s close now, submerging up to his chin. You didn’t know if you were disappointed or relived. Maybe a mix of both. 

“It’s cold!” He shouts, a ghost of teeth chattering as he swims next to you, testing the waters.

“Of course you would say that,” You laugh softly, arms moving at your sides to help you stay afloat. 

The river wasn’t too deep, if you stayed close to the riverbank you could easily enjoy the coldness of the water without worrying too much. However, as you swam to the middle, you needed to make a little bit more of effort; it was the best part of the river for you though. 

Suddenly, Kyojuro’s smiling at you; so bright and full of care that for a moment your mind goes blank. 

Not knowing what to do with his gaze on you – truth be told, you never knew what to do but blush –  you shove your hands forward, making a wave of water to splash against his unguarded face. After the first initial shock, Kyojuro laughs so loud that every part of your body lights up with a satisfying feeling, you liked his laugh, his voice. Him.

Not letting you go without revenge, he splashes you with a cascade of water that has you coughing for air; the difference between your waves and his are so ridiculous that at some point you have both of your arms shoving water in his direction. You two look like children playing in the river, and it’s not a bad portrayal; it’s quite soothing as the forest is filled with both of your laughs. 

The moment lasts, until he grabs your wrist, stopping you from splashing another wave of water at him again. Your body freezes in the spot as his other arm encircles your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

Just like the sun, Kyojuro had a magnet on him, too compelling, too strong. He had a way to pull you closer without even noticing, as if you had always been gravitating towards him; You would inevitably come crashing into him someday. 

The warmth of his breath hits your face, making you shiver from head to toe - something you thought was impossible due to the coldness of the water. Kyojuro purses his lips, slowly closing the gap between you two.

And instead of fighting against the anxiety building up inside you, the familiar feeling you always felt when he was too close. The beating of your heart, too fast to pass unnoticed. You close your eyes and let it go. 

Kyojuro’s lips are soft against yours. His hand grips tighter your waist, making you sigh against his mouth. He releases your wrist, involving you with both arms, his muscular naked body against yours awakes something in the pitch of your stomach. Kyojuro tilts his head to the side, just enough to sink into the kiss even more. 

Your hands quickly travel along his face, enveloping his neck in a strong grip, pulling him closer. Showing him that yes, you want this as much as he does. He kisses you gently but still manages to take your breath away. 

Pulling away slowly, you still hold his neck in a tight grip; an attempt to ground yourself from the drunk feeling growing in your chest. 

“You taste like cinnamon.” Kyojuro whispers, lips so close that it brushes against yours.

“Do you like it?” You don’t know why you’re whispering, but it seems fitting. As if any louder word would break the spell of the moment. 

“It’s delicious!” Kyojuro says with a huge smile on his face, and you can’t help but smile too. 

He brings a hand to your face, touching your cheek tenderly, and without thinking twice, you lean into his touch. A welcomed act that has your heart and body demanding for more. 

Bad habits are hard to break; and maybe you have found a new addiction to hold on to for the rest of your life. Only this time it was healthier. It was love.

*****

Secret Santa from @thgreatestblue to @redgokus ! Happy Holidays!