#kid you not when i say the R&S got me staring into the space for two nights straight lmao LZY writers how do y'all write knives like this

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s R&S: Unknown Return Date (Eng Translation)

After all, in a world devoid of time, he wasn’t even allowed ‘death’.”

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a R&S, 无所归期, that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚

[Note]: The R&S covers the events from S2 CH 44 - CH 49, and contains crucial details inlaid with knives that set the premise for CH 49, so the R&S needs to be read before the chapter itself~ (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)❤️‍🩹

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

[Subbed Video: Fully Voiced]

──────────

Victor’s dialogue’s will be in bold and italics, and the others’ dialogues will be only in bold.

【Chapter 1】

As the curtain of evening hung low, the colorful lanterns adorning the eaves illuminated the entire lantern festival with brilliance. 

Victor’s gaze swept to the end of the sea of people, where the girl’s form had just disappeared. He gazed in that direction for a long time, as if afraid that he would forget something. Eventually, he simply released a heavy sigh, and his breath transformed into a delicate white mist, veiling the barely perceptible hesitation in the corner of his eyes. 

The time he had bought for himself by reaching an agreement with Zero is nearly up. 

Throughout these two months, he did everything he could possibly think of, mapped out a long-term strategic plan for LFG, entrusted Souvenir to Mr. Mills... everything seemed to be perfectly arranged, except for her. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Victor lowered his gaze to his wristwatch, where the hands quietly advanced to the next scale, wordlessly announcing the imminent moment. He hesitated for a moment before taking a tentative half-step forward, only to come to a standstill amidst the surging tide of people. 

She had no inkling of what was to happen, and for now, it might not be a bad thing after all. 

Sure enough, the black vortex appeared on time, and the sensation of space-time distortion enveloped him instantaneously. He turned sideways and stood there, watching quietly, with the vortex signifying the path he was soon to confront. When it came to the unknown, no one could remain entirely unshaken, but Victor displayed no hesitation and even leaned into it before the magnetic force set in. 

He must ensure not to leave any room for error – this was a pledge he had made to himself in the deepest recesses of his heart. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

When Victor opened his eyes again, an endless white desert sprawled across his vision, commandeering every color under the sky. 

“Now you’re finally being well-behaved.” 

The fiery sun was beating down upon the crest of the sand dunes, where an oddly dressed little boy stood, gazing down at him from the height. Victor knitted his brows and turned his gaze to the boy who was waving at him. He felt as if he had met this little boy somewhere before. 

“How about you just stick around here for now? You’ve got loads of time anyway.” 

Without leaving Victor any chance to inquire, in the blink of an eye, the white sand dunes stood utterly empty. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Victor glanced at the billowing sand and dust in the distance, and he fell into a brief moment of contemplation. The information obtained from the other party was far less than he had anticipated. But he didn’t remain paused in place for too long, turning around and heading toward the tallest nearby sand dune. 

Climbing to the highest peaks in the world often serves as a fast track to gain a comprehensive understanding of the entire picture, a feeling he had known from experience countless times before.  Even though, in his heart, he knew full well that there might not be any such thing as an “exit,” just like no one would leave the key to their shackles inside the cage. 

Nevertheless, Victor knew he must return, not only for his sake but also to honor the promise he had made to her. 

He was acutely aware of the girl’s nature, and Victor didn’t want himself to be the reason for her venturing into danger. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Victor lifted his foot and stepped beneath the sand dune, and the soft sand instantly swallowed his lower leg. Yet he merely paused for a moment before his other foot stepped onto the sand dune in the same fashion, only this time he was a bit more careful. 

As he stands now, he didn’t have the capacity to concern himself with these inconsequential matters. The sand dune at the top of his sightline was his singular focus right now. 

And by the time this goal was achieved, Victor’s palms had long been ravaged by the swirling wind and stand. Nonetheless, he unconsciously furrowed his brows, as his bright pupils seemed to mirror some kind of non-committal fact—— 

The farthest end of the horizon still held an endless expanse of white. 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 2】

In the desert, there are several things that you’re prone to lose effortlessly: hydration, the perception to gauge distance, and the concept of time. 

Victor was well aware of this fact, especially when he found himself in a barren desert. Losing the sense of time could plunge a person into a quagmire of emptiness, much like having one’s soul being trapped in the quicksand. 

He could only silently engrave the feeling of time passing in his mind, and this was his way of combating this thing otherwise known as “deathly silence.” Yet, even so, his consciousness instinctively began to blur, and “time” gradually became a noun distant enough to be elusive. 

The blistering gravel imprinted searing scars on his body, and the bone-crushing pain began to become numb, but Victor never once considered giving up. After all, in a world devoid of time, he wasn’t even allowed “death.” 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

This place was akin to an infinite cage, imprisoning him relentlessly within its bounds. After enduring this repetitive cycle for who knows how long, Victor drew two obvious conclusions. One of which was, this world wasn’t just composed of sand; it also held various peculiar objects. 

There were vintage radios, sharp swords, casually discarded water cups... they lay quietly buried amidst the gravel, as if they were abandoned garbage left here by someone. 

He glanced down at his own feet trapped in the sand. In this space, the way he was being treated was no different to theirs. 

A fierce sandstorm blew in from afar, streaking pale traces of blood on his lips that had long been cracked. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Victor cast a sidelong glance at the vortex behind him, and this was his second discovery. He wasn’t sure when it had materialized or what it symbolized. However, his intuition told him that he must not allow this vortex to catch up to him; otherwise, it could trigger events he was unable to predict. 

The blazing sun shone on Victor’s face, and the dripping sweat had already soaked his clothes countless times. His toes forcefully lifted from the scalding sand, only to plunge heavily into even deeper gravel. Even though every step demanded his entire strength, Victor continued pressing on relentlessly, heading toward the next sand dune in search of a way out. 

At this moment, he had lost all scales of time, and no matter how deep his footprints sunk, their trails would eventually be obliterated without a trace beneath the veil of shifting wind and sand. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

The scorching sun continued to burn, and his pace gradually became sluggish. Beads of sweat constantly dripping from his forehead blurred his vision. Layer upon layer of memories projected before him like a kaleidoscope, occasionally flashing dribs and drabs of moments spent with the girl, only to disappear in the blink of an eye. He relied on the physical pain to remind himself that everything before him was merely a prolonged tug-of-war. 

Yet another sand dune, and he climbed to its summit once again. 

The distant landscape showed no signs of change, and it was still an endless expanse of white. He silently gazed up at the sky, feeling as though his body had been frozen in place by some force. A sentence floated to his mind, “Eternity is the greatest adversary of plans, not fleeting moments.” 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

But this “long-term failure” was also destined to be solved by long-term means. 

Victor felt the willpower he had been holding onto for so long quietly slipping away beyond his control, accompanied by sweat blurring his vision. He drew a deep breath, planning to take a short break and trying to regain some physical strength. 

This was the first time he had stopped in his footsteps, and he came to regret it soon enough. 

When he woke up again, what greeted him was the scenery of Loveland City projected in the sky, the sights that he couldn’t be more familiar with. 

His throat quivered slightly, and the sensation of being torn apart coursing throughout his body rendered him unable to move. He was left with no choice but to silently gaze at the sky. 

–  

[Tidbits]: Taking a break b/c I just want to commend Li Zeyan’s writers for such microscopic attention to detail. The long-term failure, though there’s no need to explain it but I love how it’s a clever call back to the exact phrase (长远的失败) from S2 CH 31, when we first saw the “oblivion” taking effect! (T⌓T)

–  

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Even though Victor clearly knew the difference between reality and illusion, even though he was aware it was a fleeting glimmer of light not worthy of clinging to, he still couldn’t help but pause, even if it was for only a moment. Victor couldn’t help but self-derisively smile at himself— that he would actually be distracted by such a thing. 

Nevertheless, the scenery before his eyes etched an indelible mark in his heart, and at the end of that crevice was her image. Within an instant, the moments of the past gradually faded from his mind, reminiscent of sand dunes drying out in the wind. 

The girl’s silhouette kept appearing in his mind, and it was both vivid and hazy. At the same time, another question occupied his thoughts. 

She... who was she? 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 3】

He gave a reflexive nod when the girl offered to purchase some things for him while they were taking a break. 

He couldn’t fathom where this natural acceptance had come from, as if everything was inherently meant to be this way. 

The girl had also given him a name, “Vic-Vic.” Even though he was somewhat reluctant to accept it, compared to that peculiar name “Mr. Benevolent Enigma,” “Vic-Vic” always sounded nicer to hear. 

And what’s more, this name evoked an indescribable sense of familiarity within him. 

Until now, he never felt a need for anything. After all, in his memory, the concept of “possession” had never appeared. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

But as he thought back to how that tireless girl joyfully gave him nicknames and passionately introduced the city, he didn’t find it displeasing. On the contrary, it was the girl’s occasional daring and imaginative actions that made him irresistibly pay more attention to this person who had suddenly appeared before him. 

He shook his head, catching a glimpse of the girl’s busy figure through the store window. Toothbrushes, pajamas, even socks and razors... she didn’t leave anything out, stuffing her shopping basket to the brim. 

The corners of his lips formed a subtle curve. It seemed that just by looking at her, an entirely novel emotion surged up in the depths of his heart, something he’d never known before. 

Even he himself couldn’t put a finger on the reason; this girl always seemed so magical–– miraculously, she brought him out of that place, and miraculously, he was allowed to embrace “life” once more.  

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

He turned his head, taking in his surroundings. Mottled branches were sprouting tender, jade-green buds, and the area was crowded with people in a rush. 

Thump– thump–– 

Suddenly, the crisp sound of a soccer ball drew his attention. 

It was a very young boy, appearing to be at the age of having started elementary school recently. 

The boy was exerting himself to swing the soccer ball under his feet, but his amateurish footwork denoted that he was still relatively unaccustomed to instep control. 

If he keeps up with this level of force, the next kick will probably send the ball flying out— Victor subconsciously made this assessment to himself. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Sure enough, as the boy’s toe tapped the soccer ball, an overly vigorous pull at that instant caused his body to lose its natural balance. The ball, previously under control, drew a distant arc through the air following his touch, flying directly toward the middle of the road. 

“Ah, my ball!” 

As the soccer ball soared toward the center of the road, the boy could only stand there with his mouth agape, helplessly watching it move farther away from him. 

“Stopping a ball like this might not be that hard for you.” 

As this thought suddenly crossed his mind, Victor’s body reacted as if by reflex. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

He nimbly chested the ball in front of him, and then his thighs moved up and down in fluid and graceful movements as he steadily controlled the soccer ball at his feet. 

“Here you go.” 

He gently passed the ball back. 

But the young boy simply froze in place after he caught the ball. 

“Whoa! I actually kicked a ball that had a curve! That’s so cool! I have to show everyone!” 

The young boy excitedly ran off while hugging the ball in his arms. But Victor simply remained rooted in place, gazing in the direction the little boy dashed. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

It was a small park. There were swings, seesaws, a slide, and a sandbox teeming with children. Tiny little figures huddled in the sandbox, crafting a multitude of unique sand formations using their shovels and imagination. 

He found himself taking steps toward the sandbox. He couldn’t explain why; he just felt like he was following some sort of subconscious judgment. He squatted down and scooped up a handful of fine sand from the sandbox. The solid, fine grains slowly trickled through his fingers, creating a tiny cascade of sand in the air. 

He kept his eyes downcast and watched in silence like this— until the reflection of fine sand in his eyes unexpectedly rendered him somewhat lost in thought. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

In a certain sense, his world had once been nothing but a boundless expanse of sand and illusory goals. He had grown accustomed to silence, accustomed to facing the future with action, and had never once considered stopping. But now, for the first time, he felt the urge to pause, as if the surging tide of time had unexpectedly encountered a minute moment of stillness. 

Suddenly, the girl’s shout reached him from a distance, akin to a gently turned gear, propelling his time forward with force. 

Everything felt so strangely familiar, as if he had already lived through all this before. But he knew for sure that he had never been through any of this in the past. Even so, in this moment, this sweeping sensation, reminiscent of a tidal wave, bestowed upon him something he had never had before. 

“Memories.” 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 4】

Countless shimmering starlight danced on the floor, and underneath the gigantic clock face, two small chairs were placed. It left one wondering whether it was a courtesy to welcome guests or the setting for some sort of interrogation. 

This is the place the man named Zero brought him to. 

“Victor, I think it’s been a while since we’ve had a chat like this.” 

...Victor. 

He silently repeated this name to himself, which felt unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time, and sunk into a sudden contemplation. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Even though there was no indication that he had found the answers to his questions, it didn’t matter at the moment; the clues were already laid out before him. 

Seemingly picking up on the wariness in Victor’s eyes, Zero attempted to change the topic. 

“You seem to be much more cautious than the last time we met.” 

“Is that so?” 

“However, apart from caution, I also see something else in your eyes.” 

“Unknown.” 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

The stifling air reverberated in the space as the two locked eyes, each seemingly filled with an element of probing. 

Zero carried on with his line of words, as if he didn’t intend to give Victor too much time to ponder. 

“I hope this doesn’t affect the deal between us.” 

Faced with Zero’s words, Victor had no plans to hide anything. He slightly straightened his posture, and his gaze held no sign of evasion. 

“You should know very well that currently, I have no idea what the deal you’re talking about is.” 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

In Zero’s probing and evaluative gaze, Victor gleaned certainty and confirmed his conjecture. 

During the brief, tense silence, Zero lifted his gaze, but his eyes were sharper than they had been moments ago. 

“But that won’t have any impact.” 

He paused, 

“For the Space-Time Bureau, the existence of ‘Victor’ in and of itself is enough.” 

“Since you can use your Evol, it won’t hinder the normal progress of the plan.” 

Victor never broke his eye contact with Zero. He was well aware that what the other party had revealed was merely the information he wanted Victor to know, and what he was purposely holding back was the crucial point. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

In any case, he had to find a breakthrough in the conversation. Suddenly, something flashed in his memory: the girl’s astonished expression the moment she saw Zero. Did she also know this person? He firmly held onto this seemingly inconspicuous lead, and a notion sprang to his mind. 

It’s highly likely that his existence is connected to Loveland City. 

Victor pondered for a moment, and his mind had already formulated the next strategy. 

“Tell me about the deal you mentioned.” 

“You have to use your ability to bridge the gaps in time.” 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

“You have my word.” 

Victor’s sudden lightning-speed response caught Zero off guard. 

“However, I too have my own conditions.” 

Victor straightened his posture and cast his gaze toward the doorway. He was taking a gamble, betting that Zero wouldn’t dare to let him walk out of here, betting on his own importance in this deal. And he won the gamble. 

It seemed as if Victor had Zero’s lifeline firmly in his hands, and Zero’s expression gradually began to sink: 

“What do you want to know?” 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

“The execution of the deal will depend on what you’re willing to offer in exchange.” 

Victor cast a sidelong glance at Zero, then sat back down in the seat opposite Zero and lifted his head. 

“I want to know everything about myself.” 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•  

—

【Chapter 5】

The corridor was silent, and it was so spacious that it felt like observing the infinite expanse of deep space with the naked eye. 

Aside from the darkness of the faraway cosmos, nothing else could be seen. The clear and crisp footsteps echoed from afar, reminiscent of a tiny speck of light descending from the distant starry sky. 

Victor came to a halt at the entrance of the Space-Time Bureau, and the doors behind him silently opened. 

“Remember, do not try to use your ability to probe time.” 

“After all, your existence itself is already wrongly placed. At least, that’s what it appears for now.” 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Victor lowered his gaze in acquiescence, while his feet had already taken a step forward. He had already been delayed here for too long. 

Although during this time at the Space-Time Bureau, he had finally managed to find some leads in his quest for finding himself, it was far from enough. He had never forgotten everything that happened in the disordered space, and that voice still echoed in his mind. 

Move forward, and then go find her. 

The girl’s visage appeared before him once again. He wasn’t sure if it was a hint of some sort or simply a lingering imprint of his own thoughts. Nonetheless, he had already firmly decided on his next destination: Loveland City. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

When Victor returned to Loveland City again, he found himself standing on a bustling street teeming with vehicles and pedestrians. 

The hurrying crowd brushed past him. Just like before, everyone was oblivious to his existence. He took a step forward and blended into the stream of people, heading in the direction he had planned. It was all thanks to the girl’s incessant chatter back then, which had left him with enough clues. 

“Next stop: Loveland City Center.” 

Victor remained silently in place, not letting a single passing figure escape his gaze. The days continued to follow the nights, but the girl still hadn’t shown up. He brushed off his shoulders, dampened by the drizzle, and proceeded toward his next destination. Loveland City wasn’t that big, at least not as vast as the desert he had walked through. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

In the garden of the central hospital, the setting sun beneath the distant overpass... and in the park where the stars adorned the sky time and time again. 

These were all the places mentioned by the girl, but Victor still hadn’t found a trace of her. 

Victor always kept thinking back to the girl’s chirping, her excited manner as she introduced these places to him, and how she would insistently clamor to have him experience them fully – and the way her eyes overflowed with sparkles when she spoke. 

Victor couldn’t help but lift the corners of his lips. He had etched these seemingly insignificant memories into his mind without missing a single detail, and it was through them that he had solidified his next goal. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

A lofty building stood in the distance. 

“Loveland Financial Group (LFG).” 

He quietly murmured the signage in front of him, recalling what the girl had previously mentioned about her connection to this company. 

What appeared to be a vague hint now held a substantial hint.  “If you go there, you should be able to see her.” 

With this thought, Victor took a step forward, leaving the bustling crowd behind him. 

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ 

Clack, clack, clack. 

His ears caught the hurried rhythm of footsteps, contrasting with the composed demeanor of the other people in the hall. Victor instinctively lifted his head, and in a trance, he caught sight of that familiar figure. 

His time, which had been suspended, resumed its flow forward in this very moment. 

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[Translation Update Notice]

—

[bajablastwrites]

How you unintentionally got a psychic’s attention

Saiki x reader

Reader’s gender isn’t specified

Authors Note: Trying my hand at making saiki k content because I’m starving and no one else is gonna do it

—————————————————————————————

ok so let’s be realistic here your thoughts were just background noise to him. But let’s say you were in his class because that’s how plot works.

So he knows you by face and name but never bothered to communicate with you unless it was for like a group project or something and even then he would do the bare minimum in terms of communication.

I see him as the kid that would do most if not all the work and then let you copy it and call it a day if he were to be partnered up with just one person— depending on who they are that is, but if it’s a group project then you gotta pull your weight and do your fair share of work.

But anyways, your thoughts never really got his attention too much, just the typical inner narration he does with other people’s thoughts but that’s about it. Until one in particular caught his attention and made him wary and suspicious of you.

You were spacing out, zoning in and out, barley paying attention to class like any normal human being. Until you had one of those “I hope there isn’t a mind reader around me.” or “I feel bad for the poor fuck that’s reading my mind right now.”

And Saiki instantly got suspicious of you.

What if you were a threat?

Was this your way of saying you knew he was a psychic?

Did someone send you after him?

He didn’t know if he should confront you and risk accidentally outing himself as a psychic should it be just you being fucking weird (which is exactly that what the case is here) or monitor you for any other signs that you know he’s a psychic. He ultimately decided to just keep an eye on you.

And by that I mean stalk you watch your every move.

He spent a couple of days following just you around (invisible or just following you from a distance), learning your habits and routines.

At school he’ll just stare at you, when I mean stare I mean s t a r e.

I feel like Saiki has a staring problem and doesn’t realize it himself until he notices the person become unnerved or uncomfortable.

So it’s to no ones surprise that you began to feel nervous and self conscious around Saiki. Since every time you looked in his general direction he would be staring you down.

He didn’t realize that he was making you nervous until your thoughts practically screamed at him to stop staring.

Man singlehandedly made you think you were losing your mind since you always felt like you were being watched. Which you were. By him. He realized that you weren’t a threat and that you were just a regular student that he unintentionally scared shitless.

So now he kinda feels bad for ruining your peace of mind— won’t admit it though. But fiiiiine if you want to be friends so badly then sure. Don’t get the wrong idea he’s not being your friend because he found you interesting or anything, he’s doing it as a way to make it up to you.

He’ll even make life as convenient as possible for you. Since now he feels like he’s indebted to you for knowing pretty much every single thing about you— yes everything. He feels a lil gross about that and deeply apologizes

Since he already knows you from the inside out— literally from the inside out, due to his x-ray vision. He might as well be your friend and let you get to know him too, fair is fair right?

Who knows maybe he’ll let you be more than his friend— as a way to make it up to you of course.

[joonessence]

The moon // pjm

⤷part of the In the cards series

pairing: jimin x fem oc

summary: It’s never-ending, what Jimin feels for you is constant and boundless. But you don’t know, you’ve never known, and Jimin thinks that’s okay. Until you find out and think that it’s not.

rating: M (18+)

tags: friends to lovers au, smut in the forms of tit play, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, kinda sub jimin but not for long, very slight possessive jimin (squint to see it), unprotected sex, very slight praise kink, creampie, cum eating, i hate doing the tags y’all i think this is it

wc: 4k

notes: this is part of my tarot cards series so the banner below is the spread for this specific fic, kinda lets you know what to expect

Jimin can’t help but to watch you from across the room. His eyes follow your movements as you lightly shove Jungkook, teasing him about something Jimin isn’t following, deciding that his attention was better spent looking at you. This isn’t the first time Jimin has lost himself in observing you, in fact, it happens more often than he’d care to admit. At first, Jimin tried to control it, quickly averting his eyes when he realized he was staring just a little too hard. But soon, Jimin found it impossible to look away from you.

See, when Jimin first met you all those years ago, he realized quickly that he’d have trouble getting you off his mind. The way you made his heart beat too fast and his palms get all sweaty were sure signs that he had it bad for you. He figured it would go away soon because it was just a small crush, nothing to worry about. But for Jimin, it never did seem to go away. When he was with you, he just wanted to be closer to you, ensuring he always had the chair beside you to get a front row seat to your radiant smile. When he was away from you, all he did was think about you and your pretty laugh.

Yeah, Jimin’s got it really bad for you.

He thought about confessing to you countless times. Confessing that he ached to be beside you always, that no matter what he did he just couldn’t seem to get you out of his head. God, he wanted to tell you so bad. And he’d get close to it too, pulling you aside, saying he needed to tell you something important. Only, when the time came for him to speak, nothing would come out and he’d find himself scrambling to make something up on the spot.

Although he wishes you knew how he felt about you, Jimin thinks it’s okay that you don’t know. He’s happy to be in your life regardless. Even if he doesn’t get to be the one who takes you out and takes you home and takes your clothes off. God, Jimin wants to take your clothes off.

“Isn’t that right, Jimin?” Your voice directed towards him pulls Jimin out of his thoughts that are quickly turning obscene. “I mean, you know Jungkook pretty well. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You’re looking at him with your eyes wide, waiting for him to agree with you. You’re wearing such a simple outfit but Jimin thinks you look so pretty like this, loose dark green t-shirt half tucked into your jeans and your baby hairs framing your face. Jimin flushes at your prolonged attention on him.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t really listening,” Jimin stammers, partly because he was still unsure of what you were asking him and partly because you just make him nervous.

Jimin’s heart pounds in his chest when you narrow your eyes at him like you’re suspicious of his answer. Just as you open your mouth, Jungkook interrupts, taking your attention off of Jimin. He sighs out a shaky breath. That was a close one, Jimin can’t let you catch him staring like that again.

You and Jungkook continue your playful bickering about God knows what. Jimin doesn’t care enough to start listening, probably wouldn’t even be able to hear the two of you over the sound of his own heart beating so loudly. Sighing, he gets up and steps out onto the balcony for some much needed air.

Hearing his distressed sigh, you and Jungkook’s eyes follow Jimin as he walks away, running his hand through his hair as he goes. You turn to Jungkook with a confused face, silently asking if he knew what was wrong.

“Ah, I don’t know, just ignore him,” Jungkook says, not looking you in the eye.

Jungkook’s a terrible, horrible liar, always has been; you see right through it.

“What is it, Jungkook? Is he upset with me?” You question.

Jungkook scoffs, only making you more confused. You motion for him to continue.

“Jimin likes you,” Jungkook says as if it’s common knowledge and then pauses. “A lot.”

You think your heart stops for a second, before you come to your senses and punch Jungkook in the arm for joking around when you’re not.

“Ow! What was that for?” Jungkook pouts and rubs his arm trying to alleviate the pain.

“Jungkook, seriously. Stop kidding. What’s wrong with him these days?”

“I just told you! He likes you!”

Jimin likes you? Since when? There’s no way, you of all people wouldn’t have figured that out if it was true. But, the thought of it makes your cheeks burn. You always saw Jimin like an angel, something beautiful that you could never be with. It was why you never said anything, figured you’d spare yourself the heartache because nothing but embarrassment would come out of it anyway.

Just then, Jimin walks back in, immediately turning into his and Jungkook’s shared kitchen. You stare at Jungkook with your eyes wide, hoping he might explain more of the details.

“You know what’s wrong now,” Jungkook leans closer to you so Jimin doesn’t hear and whisper-yells. “He’s like head over heels for you, he doesn’t shut up about you!”

“He’s never said anything to me! How can I know for sure?” You whisper-yell back.

“Oh, trust me, you should hear him when he—” Jungkook shuts up when Jimin walks around the corner, headed down the hallway to his room. Jungkook gives you a ‘say something!!’ look and for some reason you listen to him.

“Jimin!” You call out after him, still trying to figure out what to say next.

He turns to you, “Yeah? What’s up?”

Your brain races to find something to say, but comes up short.

“Uh—,” You start, just to fill the space.

“She wanted to know if you’d come over tonight! Right?” Jungkook fills in and turns to you, nodding his head slightly so that you’d get the hint.

“R-right!” You nod your head rapidly.

“She asked me too but I have plans tonight. But you should go!” Jungkook sounds just as nervous as you feel. Terrible, horrible liar.

Jimin looks at you, slightly unsure at the way you and Jungkook are acting but then you send him this smile. This smile, that makes Jimin remember all that is good and pure in this world and he’s sold on your offer.

“Sure, when should I come over?”

“Umm, around 5?” You say, then remember the mess that is your one bedroom apartment. “Actually, how’s 6?”

“6 is good, I’ll see you then,” Jimin smiles at you sweetly before turning to make his way to his room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Jimin’s coming over. He likes you and he’s coming over. Once you hear the door to Jimin’s bedroom click shut, you turn to Jungkook frantically.

“What should I do?” You ask, panic evident in your voice.

“What do you mean ‘what should you do?’” Jungkook obviously doesn’t understand your current dilemma.

You groan at his obliviousness, “I mean, how should I act? Now that I know he likes me?”

“Well,” Jungkook starts, turning to face you fully. “You like him back don’t you?”

Your cheeks burn and you nod slowly. You’ve never told anyone about your feelings for Jimin, out of fear that he’d find out.

“Okay, good. Your next step is obvious. Seduce him.”

You choke on nothing at his suggestion, you want to punch him in the face for even saying that. “Jungkook, are you crazy? How would I even know what to do?” Your hands come up to your temples, rubbing to try and soothe the imminent headache coming your way.

“Jimin is so desperate for you, do anything,” Jungkook reassures you. “Just make a move on him, I’m tired of hearing him in the shower every night.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait wha—”

“I’m not explaining, now go clean your place before Jimin sees how messy you really are,” Jungkook stands, straightening his shirt. “And good luck! Don’t bring Jimin back till well past 11:30, okay?”

“I hate you,” You groan, standing up too to grab your things before saying goodbye and calling out “I’ll see you later!” to Jimin.

Hearing the front door shut, Jimin scrambles into Jungkook’s room where he finds him laying down.

“Oh my god, what now?” Jungkook opens one eye to look at Jimin.

“I can’t go, I won’t be able to control myself,” The words fall out of Jimin’s mouth so quickly Jungkook struggles to catch them.

“Relax. It’s gonna be fine,” Jungkook sits up, motioning for Jimin to sit down beside him.

“How can you be so sure?” Jimin’s voice wavers, he’s so nervous.

“Just trust me, hyung,” Jungkook rubs Jimin’s shoulder, comforting him as much as he could.

“Okay,” The crease in Jimin’s brow has eased a bit. “I guess I’ll go get ready.”

Jimin spends his time picking out his outfit and hating it, then picking out a different one and hating that one too. He messes with his hair, trying to figure out what would look best. Jimin can’t seem to decide on anything. All the while, he’s trying to figure out what he should talk to you about, if he should show up with a gift, maybe flowers? Jimin pops into Jungkook’s room every so often, asking him every question that comes to mind and Jungkook tells him over and over again that he’s overthinking it. Jimin knows he’s probably right; he just can’t calm down when it comes to you.

Being good friends with him and his friends, Jimin saw you quite frequently. He loved seeing you, hearing you laugh at stupid jokes that were being said. And as much as he loved seeing you, most of the time, Jimin tried not to be alone with you. You get Jimin all flustered, make his hands get clammy, he can barely get out complete sentences when it’s just you and him.

Jimin sends you an “i’m here” text when he parks his car and you come down to meet him. He sucks in a breath when he sees you wearing a light yellow dress that hits your mid-thigh.

“Hi, Jimin,” You rock back on your heels, waiting for him to answer.

“H-hey, thanks for inviting me.” Is Jimin still breathing, it doesn’t feel like he’s still breathing.

You wave your hand at his thanks, “Come on.”

You grab his arm and lead him to the elevator, pushing the button to the fourth floor. Jimin’s still unsure if he’s breathing or not, but he has to say it.

“You look nice.” Your smile at his compliment practically blinds Jimin. “P-pretty.”

Your cheeks flame. Yeah, you dressed hoping he would like it but that didn’t mean you were expecting to hear him say it.

“T-thanks,” You bite your cheek and look down, praying Jimin doesn’t see just how red you’ve become.

The rest of the ride up is silent, save for Jimin tapping his fingers on the railing, trying to ease his nerves. You don’t have to lead Jimin to your apartment, he knows which one it is, having visited with Jungkook plenty of times. You fumble with your keys, hands shaking slightly at the idea of you and Jimin being alone.

“I got us some snacks,” You say as you open the door and direct him to the small coffee table that has bags of chocolate and candies and chips piled up.

“That’s… a lot of snacks,” Jimin turns to you and laughs softly.

“I wasn’t sure what to get, okay?” You mumble and turn to close the door (and to hide your, once again, flushed cheeks).

Jimin’s made his way to your living room, sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa. Taking a deep breath, you sit beside him reaching for the tv remote and handing it to Jimin.

Jimin doesn’t even remember what movie he picked. He keeps his eyes glued to the tv even though doesn’t like the movie because it’s better than losing himself in the way your crossed legs look in that dress. Doesn’t even want to think about how smooth your thighs would feel under his palms. Jimin is a weak, weak man, especially when it comes to you.

45 minutes into the movie Jimin picked you’re so uninterested in the movie you could die. You look over to Jimin, his eyes are unwavering from the tv, his hand stuck in the air with a chip in it, too busy to bring it up to his mouth. Even in his focused state he’s still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, lips puckered in confusion and his brows furrowed. You want to roll your eyes at him for not taking the perfect opportunity to say something to you. Leave it to yourself to make anything happen.

You slowly slide your hand across the short distance to his knee. You place it there lightly, feeling Jimin tense slightly underneath. His attention is now on your small hand, you can hear him gulp.

“Jimin,” you purr from beside him, squeezing his knee making him jolt. “Jungkook told me something today.”

Jimin gulps again, heart creating earthquakes inside his body. “W-what did he say?”

You turn your body towards him, sitting on your knees and sliding your hand just an inch higher. Jimin can’t make eye contact with you.

“Well, he told me something about you,”

Jimin’s breathing is shallow now, chest moving up and down quickly. You’re looking down at him with this look that makes him feel like he’s going to explode and Jimin thinks he probably will soon. Then you throw a leg over his lap, making yourself comfortable on his thighs and Jimin knows he’s going to combust.

“O-oh? W-what would that be?” He tries, really tries to sound cool, unaffected by your practically bare legs around him but fails.

Your clothed core against Jimin’s thigh provides instant relief to the pressure that had built up. You slide your hands up his toned chest, slinging your arms around his neck. Jimin flushes at your sudden closeness. He tries so hard not to ogle the way your tits squish together but the neckline of your dress is so low and Jimin can’t help it.

“Oh, come on, Jimin! I know you like me, know you wanna fuck me,” You say exasperatedly. “Jungkook told me!”

“He told you that?” Jimin looks horrified at Jungkook’s breach of trust.

“Well don’t you?” You cock your head to the side, baffled as to why he hasn’t pushed the skirt of your dress up to your waist by now.

Jimin carefully brings his hands to rest on your hips, still wary of the situation. Under his touch, your body feels like it’s on fire. You can feel your panties sticking to your soaking pussy. You move up Jimin’s thighs, your chest almost touching his.

“Don’t you, Jimin?” You repeat your question softly. “Just say it; I know you do.”

“F-fine. I like you,” Jimin blushes fiercely, mumbling under his breath. “Wanna fuck you. Can’t believe he told you.”

Your heart does twirls at Jimin’s confession. You duck your head down, trying to catch his eyes but he looks away.

“Jimin,” His name comes out so softly. “I like you too, you know.”

Jimin’s head shoots up, his eyes are wide and starting to water a bit. He’s wanted to hear you say those words for so long that maybe his mind is playing tricks on him. He couldn’t have heard you correctly, could he?

“R-really?” He asks so quietly, as if he says it any louder you might change your mind.

“Really,” You confirm, brushing your thumb against his soft cheek.

“Oh,” Jimin looks flustered now. “I didn’t know.”

“And now that you do?” You’re so close to begging him to just do something.

With his heart leaping, Jimin inches his face closer to yours. Jimin’s longed to know how your lips would feel for so long, they always look just so soft. He wants to know if they’re as soft as they look. His eyes flicker down to them, just in time to catch your tongue poking out to wet them. The sight makes Jimin surge forward, planting his lips on yours.

Jimin’s lips feel just like you imagined, plush and velvety against yours. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, tilting your head to the side. You want to savor your first kiss with him, really you do, but it seems your hips have a mind of their own when they move against the growing tent in Jimin’s pants. You can’t contain the whine that tumbles out of your mouth, much like Jimin can’t control the groan he lets out.

“Jimin,” It comes out muffled against his lips.

Jimin doesn’t dare to take his lips off yours, only letting out a low “hm?” in response.

It takes all your strength to pull away from him, but you're desperate to feel him touch you.

“Do you wanna take my dress off?” You ask, already pushing a strap down.

Jimin’s hand doesn’t move fast enough to push down the other strap making the dress fall slightly. He groans at the sight of the tops of your breast being exposed. His hands pull down the neckline of your dress, nipples pebbling as they are exposed to the cold air. His hands come up to cup them softly, just pressing the pads of his fingers into the flesh.

“Jimin,” You whine. “Do something.”

Leaning forward, Jimin licks a circle around your nipple, rolling the other between his thumb and index finger. The cry you let out is lewd and it’s music to Jimin’s ears. His tongue rubs over your nipple before he latches on it, sucking roughly. Your fingers tangle in the strands of Jimin’s hair, pushing him as close to you as possible.

“God, I love your tits,” Jimin confesses before moving to the other nipple.

You let out a pathetic moan, pushing your crotch down on Jimin’s, craving any kind of relief. Jimin moans around your nipple, sending vibrations throughout your body. He removes his mouth from you, leaning back and kneading your breasts with both hands. You flush under his intense gaze, hips still rocking back and forth.

“Can I taste you?” The  obscenity of what he says and the politeness of Jimin’s voice don’t match up sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yeah, please.”

You let Jimin guide you to the floor, placing a pillow under your head and another under your hips. He pulls the dress down your legs, setting it to the side with care. You giggle at that, it’s so Jimin, and he sends you a small smile. Between your legs, Jimin runs his palms up and down your thigh (they’re just as soft as he thought they would be). Leaning down, he kisses up your thigh to the band of your panties, placing soft kisses there too. Your body buzzes under Jimin’s lips.

“Gonna take this off,” Jimin murmurs against your skin.

He rolls them your legs, placing them aside, using the same care he did with the dress. You’d giggle again but the way Jimin’s taking in the sight of your dripping pussy clenching around nothing makes the giggle get caught in your throat.

“So pretty,” Jimin sounds in awe as he traces the puffy lips of your cunt.

His praise makes your face flush. His fingers trace lightly around you before he pushes forward and leaves a wet kiss on your fluttering clit.

“J-Jimin,” You gasp at the feeling of his tongue, taking short quick flicks against you.

He travels down to your clenching hole, licking a thick stripe all the way up to your clit, sucking harshly.

You sob loudly, closing your legs around Jimin’s head. His arms wrap around your thighs to keep them open.

“You taste so good,” Jimin divulges before continuing his attack on your clit.

His fingers probe lightly against your drenched core, dipping them in lightly before taking them out again. You push your hips down on his face, greedy for more of him. You can feel him smirk against you at your urgency. He pushes two fingers in slowly, waiting until you’ve gotten used to the stretch before pulling them out and shoving them back in. You throw your head back in ecstasy, calling out Jimin’s name.

“So wet for me, all for me,” Jimin says it like he can’t believe it.

His fingers scissor inside you, curling when he hears you moan loudly, his tongue still assaulting your clit. He can feel you tightening around him, your walls fluttering.

“Jimin,” You call out warningly. “I-I’m so close.”

“That’s good, baby,” He says proudly, speeding up the pace of his fingers.

“N-no, wanna cum around you,” It comes out of your mouth brokenly.

Jimin groans against your clit, sending another wail out of your mouth. You whine when he pulls his fingers out even though it was your doing. Jimin quickly rids himself of his jeans, the tightness of them was starting to get painful. He situates himself between your legs again, grabbing his cock and pumping it a few times before rubbing the tip against your folds.

“Jimin,” You plead, impatient to feel Jimin stretch you. “Please.”

Jimin pushes in slowly, letting out a whine when he can feel you stretch around him. You cling to his shoulders, making crescent marks with your fingernails.

“Y-you feel fucking amazing,” Jimin pants. “Holy shit.”

You moan loudly as Jimin starts driving his cock further inside you. Jimin’s lips find your neck, leaving wet kisses down the base.

“Feels so good, Jimin.”

Your hands tangle in his hair again, pulling at the roots causing Jimin to moan.

“Been waiting forever to fucking do this,” Jimin says between thrusts. “Don’t ever wanna fucking stop.”

“T-then don’t.”

Jimin’s rhythm speeds up, thrusting in and out of you roughly. With one hand beside your head steadying him, he reaches his other hand down to your clit, rubbing in circles with two fingers. The obscene squelching sound of your pussy and you and Jimin’s moan bounce off the walls.

“J-Jimin, I’m close, so f-fucking close,” You sob loudly, tears welling in your eyes.

“Kiss,” You reach out for Jimin, trying to pull him down to you. “Kiss me, please.”

Jimin obliges happily, smashing his swollen lips on yours. Your pussy clenches around him before your release gushes out. You see stars as your legs shake around him.

“Good girl, my good girl,” Jimin praises, still thrusting inside you, chasing his own release.

As you come down from your orgasm, Jimin’s trusts become sporadic, signalling to you that he’s close too.

“Cum inside, please.”

Jimin looks at you like he’s never heard something more pleasing. You watch his face crumple in bliss as he releases inside you, covering your walls in white.

Chest heaving, Jimin slumps forward, careful not to put all his weight on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’re both sweaty and it might have felt gross to Jimin if this was someone else, but this was you and Jimin has loved you for so long.

When he catches his breath, he moves down your body to look at you. Jimin never wants to forget the way your pussy looks when his cum is dripping out of it. You whine at the sensitivity when he swipes his tongue against you, collecting your mixed arousal. He leans back up to kiss you, letting you taste him and yourself on his tongue. And that might have felt gross to you if this was someone else, but this was Jimin and you have loved for so long.

Jimin pulls away with a satisfied smile, laying down beside you.

“So, what did Jungkook tell you?”

You turn to him with a smirk on your face, “Told me you think about me in the shower.”

Jimin’s face turns redder than you’ve ever seen it.

“I’m gonna kill him, seriously.”

“Really?” You tease, tracing your finger on Jimin’s chest. “I think we should thank him.”

“You’re right,” Jimin concedes. “I’m gonna thank him and then kill him.”

[markberries]

d e s i r e┊draco malfoy

anon requested: hey!! unsure if u do requests for stories BUT i saw a tiktok and rlly want it to be a full story (or one shot). so: draco is late to class, and is there for volunteered for an experiment, he is told to stand infront of a mirror (he doenst know it but it’s the erised mirror) and he asks Y/N to move out of the way but ur not there, he only sees u bc he desires u, everyone laughs then there’s a party and u okay 7 min in heaven, and draco and Y/N get picked then SMUT

info: you and draco liked to bicker; turns out draco wanted a bit more from you. it took him a look into the mirror of erised to realize it.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, cursing, fingering, oral (giving)

genre: SMUT, hufflepuff!reader, fem reader

word count: 2400+

a/n: hihi, i hope this is something close to what you wanted. sorry for the wait!! the request confused me at first but i think i understood it. this is also unedited bc i’m lazy

“draco malfoy, late again?” the professor sighed, not looking at malfoy who was quietly taking his seat. instead, the professor just shook his head in disappointment.

“yeah yeah, won’t happen again,” draco snickered, playfully shoving goyle and crabbe. all three of them were quietly giggling in amusement, as if the entire school was a joke to them.

the professor raised an eyebrow at draco, crossing his arms. unimpressed, he stared draco down. “you have been saying that for the past three classes you were late to as well, mr. malfoy.”

you held back your laughter as draco got scolded, only because you knew that draco was an arse so watching him get in trouble up close was definitely a treat for you.

draco was quick to turn to you, who was sitting at the table to his right. “got something to say, mudblood?” he snapped at you, and you glared at him.

“got some daddy issues to fix, malfoy?” you shot back, venom lacing your voice. 

“alright you two,” the professor said, walking to the middle of the room, eyes switching from malfoy to you. “that’s quite enough for today. since mr. malfoy had the audacity to come in late once again, he will be our beloved volunteer for our experiment today.”

draco raises his hand, “i will not be agreeing to that, professor. it’s just not fair.”

“and it’s not fair that you’re wasting my time, so i advise you to come up here now, because you don’t have a choice,” the professor gestured for malfoy to come to him, you hear a grumble from draco, followed by his chair being pushed back.

draco walked up to a large object covered by a black drape in the middle of the room, standing right in front of it. draco made sure to give you a nasty look before getting to the front.

the professor moved out of the way to remove the drape, but not before saying, “okay, mr. malfoy. i want you to describe to me what you see when i remove this cloth.”

“easy enough,” draco smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, arrogance oozing off of him. when the professor withdraws the drape, draco looks closesly. it’s a mirror with a golden lining, decorated with intricate designs and beautiful patterns. it’s much larger than draco, and light rays bounce off it throughout the room.

“if you don’t move out of the way y/l/n,” draco sneers, making you squint your eyes in confusion, “i swear i’ll-”

“that’s enough mr. malfoy, you can sit down now.”

draco turned around, only to see you sitting down in your chair, who was just as confused as him. while he walked back to his seat, the professor eyed him, then started pacing slowly around the room while talking.

“now,” he began, “this here, is the mirror of erised.” you hear small giggles coming from the class room, followed by malfoy’s face turning a slight tint of pink. 

“shove off!” malfoy yells, muttering to himself in annoyance. you of course, shared the same amount of embarrassment. you knew exactly what the mirror of erised was, and so did most people in this room. it made you visualize what you truly desired, so the fact that draco malfoy had seen you in the reflection, was quite a surprise.

“every student will have a chance to take a look, so don’t worry too much. please form a single file line, and we will begin.”

—

“you’re kidding,” cedric snickers, covering his mouth with his hand. cedric was an awful good friend of yours, being the first person to offer you a seat when you had gotten sorted into hufflepuff. quite ironic, really. you never imagined yourself to be put into such a happy little house.

“honestly? i wish i was. draco can be such a little prick,” you remarked, sipping at your butterbeer. students gathered in the three broom sticks, the familiar scent of sweat emanating from the hufflepuff and slytherin quidditch team. the slytherin house had just received a bitter defeat, causing them to throw glares at the opposing team.

“so what are you gonna do about it then? talk to him?” cedric questioned you, and you shrugged shoulders. you were at a loss for what to do about malfoy. you were unsure if he was even worth talking to, after all the constant negative comments that he just loved to yell at you.

“do i wanna talk to him?” you asked, crossing your legs while you sat in your chair. cedric raised a brow, “am i supposed to answer that question?”

“no,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. being friends with cedric had it’s pros and it’s cons, but he gave a good amount of advice and he was always reliable. you hear a call for cedric’s name coming from the crowd of boys and girls, his eyes shoot to the group.

“what is it?” he says back, standing up from his chair.

“come on then, we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!”

such a childish game, you thought to yourself. it surprised you that people were still interested in playing. cedric looked to you, then back at the group, “i won’t go if you won’t go.”

“what a flirt,” you say with a hint of a sarcastic tone. you playfully kick his leg, making him yelp, “i’m just trying to be nice!”

“well i’m surely not going,” you responded, taking a sip from your drink again. cedric’s grey eyes bored into your own, he smelt of chocolate mixed with his clean shampoo.

“don’t be such a wussy, mudblood,” you hear a familiar voice snarl. you snap your head to see draco, standing in the middle of the crowd, laughing with his group of friends. you felt a surge of anger, and cedric took note of it. he quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your chair.

“y/n and i will be participating!” cedric announces , dragging you to the group of people gathered around a table.

“cedric! what in god’s name are you doing?” you exclaim, desperately trying to escape from his strong grip. “ow ow ow, could you at least be a little gentler?”

“this is your chance, if you get paired up with someone, you’ll see malfoy’s reaction,” he whispers closely into your ear. when the two of you stop in front of the group, you swear you can practically hear how badly the other girls wanted cedric to be their partner.

“what if i don’t want to see his reaction?” you complained back, and cedric patted your head. “then too bad.”

“alright everyone, the rules are simple; a person is selected to spin the bottle. whoever the bottle lands on, those two will go into the backrooms together. would anyone like to go first?”

“y/n does,” cedric yells, slightly pushing you forward. you scowl at him, in return he sends you a shit-eating grin. you wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smile off his face, but you stayed civil for the sake of the others gathered around you.

“alright y/n, go on,” blaise says, placing the bottle on the table. you gave cedric the “i’m going to kill you when this is over” look as you sighed, placing your hand on the bottle. you span it, watching as the boys began to shift awkwardly.

you nearly gag when the bottle lands on the one person you did not want to share a small, closed room with. people coo, laughing and making immature comments. draco malfoy shoves his friend, threatening him.

“i’m not entering a closet with that mudblood,” he scoffs, pointing at you disrespectfully. you stop yourself from punching malfoy, instead you say, “look who’s scared now.”

“what did you just say?” draco hissed, taking a step closer to you. “why would i be scared.”

you dust off his robe in a mocking way, smiling at him. “you tell me, malfoy.”

whispers filled the room, as if everyone was waiting for draco to explode. he took a deep breath, grabbing your arm aggressively. people eyed the both of you as he brought you to the backrooms, knowing hell would break loose with you two alone. 

seven minutes, alone with draco. what could go wrong?

when you two stepped into the small space, you went to the farthest point of the room. it was littered with cleaning supplies and smelt a little bit like bleach. draco stared at you, and you looked back. “what do you want?”

“you think i wanted to do this?” draco spat at you, leaning back on the wall. 

“and how do you think i feel?” you said back, throwing a scrunched up paper towel at him. “as if i wanted to be in a room with you. you’re annoying, stuck up, and a spoiled brat.”

“wow, who would think that a bitch would get sorted into hufflepuff,” he says sarcastically.

“got a lot to say for someone who saw me in the mirror of erised,” you retort, fanning your face. it was getting quite warm in this tight space.

“it was probably a mistake, who would desire you anyway,” he retaliates getting closer to you. you take a step closer to him as well, your faces nearly touching.

“you’d be surprised,” you argue. you two were so close that you could make out the details of his face. you could see something flash in his eyes, it didn’t look like anger, but you chose to believe that it was.

“do you ever stop talking? just shut up already. i’ve had enough of hearing your voice.”

you scoff, looking down at your feet, then looking back up into draco’s eyes. in all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect after saying this. you felt your hands shaking a little bit, ignoring the adrenaline pumping through you

“make me.”

in that moment, you swear you heard your own heart beating. did you want this? did draco understand what you were hinting at? your questions were soon answered when draco pushes you up against the wall, taking your hands and pinning them above your head.

“i’ll make you, alright,” he smirks, placing kisses along your jawline. he presses his knee between your legs. he kisses your neck, sucking on the skin. you let out a breathy whine, trying to bring your arms down to wrap around draco’s neck, but he keeps your hands in place.

“you want this, don’t you?” he whispers, leaving more marks on your neck.

“mhm, yes draco,” you say back, feeling yourself growing wetter.

“good girl.”

he smashes his own lips against yours, his actions filled with need and passion. he slightly bites on your bottom lip, looking into your eyes. he breaks the kiss, letting go off your hands. he undoes his belt, pulling his pants down slightly, but not all the way.

“we haven’t got much time,” he says, dragging his thumb along your cheek. he touches your bottom lip, and you open your mouth in response, sucking on his thumb.

“fuck,” he groans, watching you with lust filled eyes. “you’re so hot.” he removes his thumb from your mouth, and you lower yourself to his boxers, tugging down the fabric. his member springs free, and he lets out a hiss from the sudden contact of air.

you smirk, licking a stripe. draco moans, grabbing onto the shelf above him. you begin to take him in, swirling your tongue around him. his size was about average, but on the thicker side. he grunts as you hollow your cheeks.

“oh fuck, just like that,” he groans. the tip of his dick touches the back of your throat, making you gag. he moans, but louder this time as he grabs your hair. your eyes start forming tears, but you hold them back.

you hollow out your cheeks, slowly moving back and forth.

“god, y/n, you’re so pretty even when you’re sucking my dick,” he says, lost in the moment as you continue to move faster, using your hands on whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. you feel your lips getting swollen as you continue to move faster.

“look at you,” he groans, his face full of pleasure as he looks down at you. “such a fucking good girl.”

you feel his member twitch in your mouth, and you knew he was close to finishing. you took this as a chance to move faster, bobbing your head as fast as you could. 

he groans, panting your name as he used your hair to guide how to move.

“i’m gonna come,” he says breathily, “fuck!”

he comes in your mouth, but you don’t mind. it’s not the worst that could happen, after all. you stand up, wiping your mouth as draco is leaning against the wall. he doesn’t rest for long though, as he grabs your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“your turn,” he whispers, pushing your skirt up and slipping a hand into your exposed panties. he feels around your wetness, collecting it and bringing it out.

“mm, did i do this?” he asks, and you whimper a “yes”.

he slips his hand back in, finding your bundle of nerves and rubbing them slowly. you gasp, gripping at his jacket and biting on his shoulder. he chuckles, dragging a finger down to insert into you. he pushes in slowly, and you bite down harder, not wanting to make too much noise.

“no no, i don’t want you to be quiet, i want to see your face,” draco says, using his free hand to grab your chin and make you look at him. “that’s right, let me see how you feel.”

he pushes in and out of your heat at a steady pace, the room smelt of sex and his cologne. you were a moaning mess as draco continued his motions, bringing in another finger.

“does that feel good?” draco asks, and you nod in response. “i want your words, baby.”

“y-yes draco, please don’t stop,” you say quietly, screwing your eyes shut.

“oh baby, i wasn’t planning on it,” he replies, entering a third finger and thrusting faster. at this point, you’re pretty much a moaning mess. the feeling of his long slender fingers was so much to handle, you felt yourself building up to your climax.

“that’s right baby, fuck, you’re clenching around my fingers,” he smirks, knowing that you were going to come. “i want you to say my name. tell people who’s making you feel this good.”

“it’s you, draco, oh my god!” you yelp, the fabric of his robe was bunching up in your hands. suddenly, your orgasm washes over you, your stomach moving in twists and turns. you felt so relieved, draco removed his hand, his fingers covered in your juices. all that could be heard was the sound of you and draco’s heavy breathing.

a knock comes from outside the room, “guys? it’s been over seven minutes.”

[lavenderjacobs]

fluff alphabet - Sapnap

➳ wc; 2,1K (she’s a long one lol)  ➳ pronouns; gender neutral<3 ➳ song reccomendation; heart eyes - coin

A=Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a partner?)

nick’s an ass guy and you can’t convince me otherwise. he’s also just loves your thighs and your stomach. he loves how soft your skin is, and how good you smell. whenever he’s sad he just rests his head on your stomach while you tangle you fingers in his hair. 

B=Best memory (Their favourite memory of you)

he cherishes your first kiss so much. he just has such a soft spot for that memory. the moment he finally found out you felt the same about him, the moment he finally found out what your lips against his felt like. it’s just something he had looked forward to for forever, and to him, it was perfect. 

C=Cuddles  (What type of cuddles do they like?)

sapnap is a WHORE for cuddles. if it where up to him, you two would just lay in bed all day, tangled in each other’s arms. after a long day, he just wants to hold his favourite person and fall asleep with them, so he just wraps his arms around your waist while he uses your chest as a pillow. but if he’s in a chatty mood, he’ll just talk your ears off, ranting about something he finds interesting, while you’re all snuggled up in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

D=Dirty mind (Do they have a dirty mind?)

I mean, come on. it’s sapnap. we all know he does. he gets *excited* very easily, which can sometimes get in the way when you two are just trying to cuddle. he just has such a soft spot for your body and has to have his way with you once certain ideas have entered his mind. 

E=Effort (How much effort do they put in the relationship?)

nick would definitely try his best. honestly you don't care if his plans actually turn out the way he intented them to, it's the thought that counts. and nick knows that. but theres just something about you that makes him want to spoil you and treat you like a princess. so prepare yourself for fancy dates, him making you your favorite food, all that type of stuff.

F=First date (What was your first date together)

arcade date arcade date arcade date. sap is super competitive and I feel like he would thrive in an arcade. he would play it off like he was just trying to proof how good he was at the arcade games. but he'd just love to see how hard you would be trying to beat him. obviously he'd let you win a lot, and when he collected enough tickets, he would get you the biggest prize he could find.

G=Gentle (How gentle are they with you?)

it....depends???? lmao. nick CAN be super gentle with you, he’s pretty protective of you and would never want you to get hurt, so he’s definitely very careful not to do anything to hurt you. but sometimes his instinct just kinda takes over and well, he can get pretty rough. 

H=Hands (Do they have nice hands?)

hmmm nick has like,,very manly hands,, if you know what i mean. i dont know, they're just so rough but yet so pretty??? and they're like really big compared to yours so when he holds ur hand, yours looks so tiny in his. and omg he won't shut up about it. "LOOK AT YOUR HANDS THEY'RE SO SMALL🥺"

I=Impression (What was their first impression?)

he just thought you were so ~cool~. like he immediately knew he wanted to be your friend. he was just so in awe of how funny, chill and charismatic you were. and it literally took two days for him to develop a crush on you. his friends would notice this right away and tease him about it so much omg.

J=Jealousy (Do they get jealous often? If so what do they do?)

YUP. nick gets jealous so easy yup yup yup. jealousy, protectiveness, possessiveness, you name it. you two would often get in fights about this, but most of the time you would just think it’s cute how riled up he gets. he doesn’t get mad at you (because you’re his precious little baby and can do no wrong in his eyes :D) but god help the souls of whoever tries to flirt with you, because they’ve got a hell of a storm coming.

K=Kisses (What type of kisses do they like/give?)

god nick’s such a passionate kisser. or at least he can be lol. he loves the way your face fits into his hands, and how soft your lips are. so he definitely is a fan of just some wholesome passionate kisses. but damn this man gets sloppy when he wants to. his lips constantly trails off to your jaw, neck and collar bones.

L=Love  (Do they show their love?)

i feel like his love language would be like a mix between words of affection and physical touch??? he’s definitely very verbal with his love for you. he doesn’t shy away from saying i love you or letting you know how much he appreciates you in any other way.

M=Memory: (Their favourite memory in general?)

there are certain moments where nick just sits back, watches, and realizes how amazing his life is. and how grateful he is to have you. for example, you were playing minecraft on his pc, and your house kept getting blown up by creepers, he found it adorable how mad you got every time. he just watched you play, while sitting on his bed. after a while, you looked over at him, and caught him staring. “what?” you asked after letting out a soft chuckle. he felt like he was gonna explode from how much he loved you. 

N=Nickname  (What nicknames do they call you?)  

i’m getting very strong “baby” and “doll” vibes from nick. he loves baby-ing you and smothering you with other loving nicknames. just any petnames that show how much he loves you he’s all for. he would also love calling you “pretty” or “beautiful” for obvious reasons. 

O=Over  (What happened the one time you ‘broke up’?)

nick HATES fighting with you, but once you two get into an argument he can get pretty carried away. he’s definitely the type to let his emotions get the upper hand on him. raising his voice a lot, stuff like that. but the second you leave to get some space he just breaks down. sliding down the wall and resting his face in his hands, just letting all the emotions out. he never meant to hurt you. when you came back to him, ready to be enclosed in his arms again, he had a hard time letting you back in. he just felt like he didn’t deserve you after he treated you like this. it took some convincing, but once you broke down his walls again, it was like he gave you all the love in his body. just smothering you with “i’m sorry”s and kisses. 

P=Parents (What would they be like as a parent?)

dilfnap dilfnap dilfnap  omg he’d be such a good dad. like just very caring and loving, but also strict and stern when he needs to be. he’d constantly be telling stories to the kids about the absurd adventures him and his friends would get into, and omg the dad jokes he’d make. idk maybe it’s my daddy issues but dad sapnap lives in my mind rent free. 

Q=Quirk (Something special about them)

he loves holding your hand. especially in public. if you’re in a crowded space, he just holds onto you very tightly as not to lose you. or if you two are just going on a walk together, his hands would just feel so warm and soft around yours. and omg he loves it when his hands are in his pockets, and you put your hands in there with him, and intertwine your fingers with his. hmmm he gets so soft when you do that.

R=Romantic (How romantic are they?)

i- uh- I MEAN HE WOULD TRY he really would, and again, that’s all that matters. I feel like he would be the type to try to prepare a whole surprise dinner, he would cook all the food himself, he would set the table all cute, with candles and shit, but just completely ruin the surprise by accidentally giving it all away by saying something or just behaving very obviously suspicious. 

S=Sad (What are they like when they’re sad?)

he just gets really quiet. he would never want to bother you or be a pain in the ass by complaining to you. but obviously you notice when something is wrong with ur bby boy. a sentence like “are you okay?” or “what’s wrong?” would immediately send him over the edge, burying his face in your chest, trying his best to supress his sobs. but he eventually calms down, and once he does, he’s able to just rant to you about whatever is bothering him.

T=Together (What are they like when you’re together?)

i feel like it would really depend on his mood, like he could be either SUPER chill, just wanting to savour the time you two had together. or he could be really hyper, constantly talking, wanting to do all kinds of activities with you. he’d be the literal definition of :D

U=Understanding (How understanding and empathetic are they?)

very. i just get such empathetic vibes from him. he’s such a good listener and he’ll just listen to you talk whenever you have something to be upset about. he never invalidates your feelings and omg he’d give the best advice. 

V=Value (What do they value most about the relationship?)

he loves that he can 100% be his self around you. there’s no part of his personality that he feels like he has to hide, or tone down, whenever he’s with you. you also aspire him to be his best self, he just wants to be the best boyfriend in the world. all his friends have noticed this too, you bring out the best in him.

W=Wedding (Would they want marriage? If so what would they like?)

eh. if you’re a person who really values marriage, he’d 100% do it for you. but it’s not like he HAS to. he gets a bit scared by the idea of this whole big event, where everything is about you two, he would way rather celebrate the love you two have in the comfort of your own home, just the two of you. the one thing he would love about a wedding, would be seeing you all dolled up, walking down the aisle, omg he’d be the proudest man ever to be able to call you his.

X=X-Ray (How well can they read you?)

the SECOND you start to feel sad or depressed in any way, nick notices immediately. he knows you better than anybody else, and he knows exactly what to do to cheer you up. it’s like his superpower. if you’re feeling anxious he’ll just wrap his arms around you really tightly, holding on to you until you calm down. and when you’re sad, and in need for something to cheer you up, he’ll take you outside for a walk in the park, or he’ll just sit in bed with you, watching your favourite show. 

Y=Yuck (What they would never want in a partner)

he hates when you flirt with his friend, even when you’re very obviously joking. his jealous ass can’t deal with that lmao. he also gets super pissed when his friends make flirtatious jokes towards you, they know how much it gets on his nerves and that’s really the only reason they do it. but omg he gets so pissed when it happens. 

Zzz (How do they sleep around you?)

nick would be the cutest sleeper ever omg. he doesn’t like to admit it, but he loves being little spoon. he loves resting his head on your chest, while you play with his hair, patiently waiting for him to fall asleep. 

[soobmint]

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.” 

-

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of  boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest. 

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together. 

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

- 

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. 

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck. 

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure. 

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face. 

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. 

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

-

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back. 

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

[chil2de]

Hi!! if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that’s his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it’s y/n and she doesn’t die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE THIS MADE ME SO SOFT!!!!! ohmygod!!!! growing up with yuuta would be THE best onshdhfsh thank you sososos much anon this was such a pleasure to write! i don’t know why but the “and she doesn’t die” had me screaming LMFAOOOO

enjoy! no warnings, just old fashioned cute fluff and heart wrenching moments! thank you for giving me the opportunity to write for the best boy mwaaah you deserve eternal happiness! hope no insects bite you during these warm months <3

“okkotsu!” you cried out, feminine and shrill voice ringing in the air. the cicadas chirped melodiously, calling out their delightful songs in the spring air.

the young boy staggered around, losing his balance from spinning too fast. his fragile hands reached out, pulling in small grabby motions towards your innocent and joyous face.

you were always so optimistic, even when you were younger. yuuta could only huff and wail as his caretaker hauled him away from the playground, gesturing it was time for him to come home. thick and messy tears spilled out the corners of his eyes which hadn’t yet endured countless sleep devoid nights.

he was so far away, but that was okay because you knew you’d see him the very next day.

“okkotsu! promise to play with me again tomorrow!” you cupped your hands, exclaiming as much as your little lungs could endure. yuuta could see the tears heavy in your gaze, but even then, you prevailed. you grinned, all for him.

ever since the very start. till ‘death do us apart.

-

“okkotsu! come oooon, don’t cry, okay? (y/n)’s got your back! see, see?! look! they don’t bite!” you braved a smirk on your features, beckoning the shy and introverted young man over. his face looked uncertain and his lips wobbled as though he could crack at any moment. he took a few cautious steps, maintaining his distance between you and the furry animal on the floor.

“r-really? it won’t bite?” he coughed, reaching his unstable fingertips out.

“eh?! that’s the first time you’ve spoken to me! your voice is so nice! it’s so cool! hey! can i hear it again? pleaaaase? i know you’re shy but i’d really like to hear it! hey, okkotsu, say my name? pretty please?”

“um- i, uh.. it’s okay.. you can call me yuuta.”

-

“yuuta! you’re going to be late for your first day of junior high! i totally told you to wake up on time too!” you stood with your hands rested firmly on your hips, face stern and tone impatient.

“sorry! sorry- it’s um, my hair. i don’t know how to style it.” he admitted, albeit sheepishly by trailing the last few words off into a murmur. you only gave him a sigh before kneeling down behind him, propping yourself up to take a look at his hair in the reflection of the mirror.

“how on earth are you so tall already? we eat the same food, you know. slouch over a little.” you pinched his cheeks before glossing over his hair.

when you ran your fingertips through his hair, you felt butterflies and anxiety rock your stomach.

that’s never been there before.

you’ve touched yuuta countless times, whether that was accidentally hitting him, holding his hand to cross the street…

so why was it different?

you could feel yuuta’s body tense up and run rigid underneath your touch.

that definitely wasn’t there before.

“relax. it’s me.” you cooed quietly, roughing up his hair into different styles.

“like this? looks like you just woke up, sorta, but i think it’s cute.”

yuuta’s heart rate skyrocketed through the roof and his breath hitched.

“cute?” he reiterated, chewing out the phrase like he’d never heard it before in his life.

“hm? yeah-“

you caught his gaze in the mirror, eyes half lidded and attention averted. the tips of his ears were tainted a deep red with small flicks of blush painting his cheeks.

“eh?! nononono- not like that i’m- i just think it suits you, you know? oh, crap, would you look at the time? okay we gotta go and leave!” you clambered out of his bedroom, thudding the door shut behind you.

yuuta only gawked at you with bewilderment, lips slightly parted and fingertips outstretched in his failed attempt to stop you.

he turned to himself in the mirror, studying his features before running one hand through his jet black locks.

“cute, huh?” he muttered, avoiding his own judgemental gaze.

-

the bittersweet part about growing up with a childhood friend is change.

for all the time that you’d spent with yuuta, you didn’t realise that your relationship with him was something to not take for granted.

especially with those around you who would kill for what you two have.

you’d always get mundane questions from high school girls who thought they could have a shot with him, “what’s his type?” “do you think he likes me?”

meanwhile you only played along with their charades, laughing inwardly when he was actually extremely introverted.

“so? what’s the deal with you and okkotsu-san? you guys dating?”

“no. we’re just friends.”

“seriously? you guys are always glued at the hip. you know he has a picture of you in his locker, right?”

“yeah? so do i. it doesn’t mean anything.”

“it’s kind of a shame, he’s such a nice young man.. gone to waste like that..”

“what’s gone to waste?” yuuta inquired with an indifferent tone, plopping down beside you with his bento box. the classmate sat opposite you only gave him a phony cheerful temperament, twirling her index finger around her hair.

“oh! okkotsu-senpai! we were just talking about you! how was your da-“

“please leave.”

you could only gape at him in your peripherals, sputtering on your sandwich as you watched the life drain from your classmate at his monotony. yuuta didn’t spare you or the girl a glance as he worked to unpack his lunch, hell the guy even murmured a small itadakimasu as if nothing happened.

“wh- okkotsu senpai?”

“listen.” he let out a deep sigh before proceeding.

“whatever shot you thought you had with me? it’s gone out the window. don’t disrespect (y/n) in front of me like that again.”

“you’re making us uncomfortable, so get up and go.” he motioned with his chopsticks, giving her a dead gaze towards another table.

the girl scoffed, mouth hung wide open as she picked up her bag and stormed out of sight.

whilst your face was as blank as a stone, internally, you were only screaming in the depths of piping hot hell visible from the sun itself.

baby girl? that was when you noticed how fucking fine of a man yuuta grew up to be.

“that was seriously nerve wracking.. my stomach hurts so bad right now” yuuta coughed through a bite of his sandwich, refusing to meet your gaze.

you slapped his back, because, holy shit??? awe painted your face like you just witnessed your own child talking or walking for the first time.

“what the shit? yuuta? are you kidding?”

“oh, huh? did i overdo it or something?“

“no?! are you kidding? that was fucking awesome! i swear! this is why i love you-“

oh.

uh oh.

oh no.

yuuta let out a shrill squeak unbeknownst to any human being able to produce such a volume. it was a cross between a floorboard creaking, a mouse sniffing and him choking on his food. the poor boy had to excuse himself to the bathroom, hacking and sniffling in an ugly fit of coughs from the food that got caught in his windpipe.

your blood rushed to your head, veins lit ablaze, bones rattling as you could hear the chatter pound and drill into your skull, scoring you deep and down into your bones.

“did she just say she loves him?”

“i totally knew they were going out!”

“i can’t believe it…”

“do you think he’ll reject her?”

it replayed over, and over, and over. what a fucking fool you felt. did he even feel the same?

that’s why i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

a blob of black clouded your vision and you could hear the glass breaking.

yuuta sat himself back down, excusing himself.

you could hear nothing but the tune of his heartbeat. or was it yours? it sounded too heavy to belong in either of your bodies.

his voice came as a wobble because of his anxiety, but this was the one thing in his life he’d be absolutely certain of.

“that’s okay. i love you too.”

-

“yuuta? you okay? you’ve been spacing out for at least five minutes. something on your mind?” you lightly shake your boyfriend, grip reassuring but firm. it takes a couple of seconds for his gaze to gloss over as he returns back to reality.

“sorry. was just thinking about our childhood, that’s all.” his voice comes out deep and masculine. it doesn’t have that tremor as it used to before, like he’d break down at any minute.

you can say with absolute certainty as you stare up your entire 5’10 boyfriend that he’s matured well.

his hand snakes around to your waist, pulling you into him for comfort.

some ways better than others, you suppose.

“can we stay home today?” he hums, resting his chin on top of your head,

“same as ever, yuuta, aren’t you? it’s fine, i’ll tell nobara my period’s making me act up. she’ll understand-“

“hm? you’re not due for another week though, right?”

you crease your eyebrows as you type out an apology to nobara for cancelling plans, glancing up at yuuta curiously.

“how the heck do you know that?”

“i’m not supposed to? i’d always count your cycle so i wouldn’t irritate you on the wrong day. besides, don’t you think it was too convenient for you to always find snacks in your locker when it rolled around?”

“those snacks were you?! oh my god! i was trying to figure that out for forever!”

“i know. i remember you ranting to me about it.”

“you just sat there?! yuuta! you’re so cheeky sometimes, i swear!”

“only for you.” he chimes, peppering a soft kiss onto your head. you smile against him, though unfortunately pry out of his familiar and welcoming touch.

“i’m gonna step out for a second tho, ‘kay? i think that’s itadori at the door with my chocolate and painkillers” you snort, giving yuuta a bold wink as you put on your best act, keeling over and clutching at your abdomen as though you’re on death’s door.

“you’re awful.” yuuta chuckles, slumping down onto the sofa to hear the events unfold right in front of him.

you clear your throat and slouch your shoulders as you pry the apartment door open.

“(y/n)-senpai! i came as fast as i could and i brought you some of your favourite sna- oh, okkotsu-senpai! hello!”

“hi there.” he leans his head back, giving itadori a small wave.

“i won’t interrupt you guys so get well soon! and fast! cause i wanna hang out with you! bye!”

you cradle the necessities itadori brought whilst gleaming at yuuta with a wicked grin plastered on your face from ear to ear.

“you want anything?” you cock an eyebrow, showing him the arrangement of snacks.

it’s not the answer you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome. it made you feel warm inside, like eating warm and soothing soup on a cold winter’s day. this, for you, was okkotsu yuuta at his best, stripped clean and vulnerable.

you’re the only one who he can relax around, act like the world is carefree. like he’s young again, prancing around in that dingy colourful playground he met you at.

“i want you to kiss me.”

[leo-interactive-fiction]

Something else I haven't seen before. What would the MC's parent from each background think of the ROs? Who would they approve of and who wouldn't they? I guess in the case of orphan MC, what would E's parents think? Since they kinda maybe vaguely adopted orphan MC?

Hmm, interesting! Since I did the opposite, I should have seen this one coming haha

-----------------------

Storm's comments:

E: "Rose has had that expectation for some time. This is preferable to the alternative. I know you will be in good hands. Rose raised them well."

R: Your father doesn't mince his words, a clear disdain evident, "Valleford. See that you don't take after your father, or there will be less than pleasantries next time we meet."

L: "Scio. I assume your father...?" Storm's lips pull in a small frown as L gives a small nod of confirmation, "I understand if you cannot forgive me. Your father is a significant asset to the Hospian war effort. If I find him, I will kill him."

V: "You've seen enough at your age," Storm says quietly, looking into the hollow glint in V's eyes, "I'm sorry. Those were battles that should have ended with my generation, not yours."

P: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, "I assume your father is well? He does not speak of his second child often, but you seem more spirited than the other. That will make the greater difference when it matters."

M: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, though there's little sentimentality in his voice, "I assume your father is well? He expresses confidence in your upbringing, but I can't say I share the sentiment. You lack something fundamental. Something to drive you to achieve more than what's expected of you."

Ra: Storm's eyes lock onto Raven with a harsh intensity, "Your eyes are filled with blood and you conceal weapons. Tell me your intentions or I will kill you right now."

S: "I admit I am unfamiliar with Orden. The conflict never reached that country, but I understand there are many hardships there already," Storm says, looking the brightly grinning student up and down before his lips pull back in small contentment, "You come out better than most. You have impressive strength."

F: Storm holds a frown as he takes in the vivid green hair, "Many allowed Frenza to claim their distance due to their significant contribution to Triaina's independence, but it doesn't absolve you of everything," he says in warning, "Don't step over the boundaries you've been afforded, or the military will have no choice but to respond."

------------------------------

Scurra's dialogue:

E: Scurra makes a grimace as he recognizes E, "Damnit, you've gone and done it now," he grumbles as he pulls out his wallet and hands a fold of bills to E, "Give that to your mom, will you? She's worse than a debt collector with bets..."

R: "Valleford! There's a name I haven't heard in a while. I knew they had a black sheep in the family, but I guess they couldn't take away the infamous good looks," Scurra chuckles, his eyes lightening reminiscently, "They've put me in a good bit of trouble on more than one occasion. I guess I should consider it a family curse now that MC is involved with you."

L: "Oh, I know those eyes," Scurra says wistfully, "Coming to find the world is a bigger place than you imagined, aren't you? It's even more expansive than that, too. I had that same look when I traveled overseas. I hope MC is being a good guide for you," he looks to you, and gives a knowing wink.

V: Scurra gives a meandering hum as he looks at V, "I've been all around, but I've only seen natural hair color like that a handful of times. They all had your same stare, too." He closes his eyes thoughtfully, "None as young as you though. I hope you're the last I have to see with those eyes. They're a bad omen."

P: "A fiery one, aren't you! Has no one ever told you not to say bad words in public?" Scurra laughs, "You should stop while you can. You're so transparent with your feelings that I almost mistook you for a window, so there's no point to pulling a tough act."

M: A small, genuine smile rises on Scurra's lips as he inspects M, "How interesting. You're so similar to your twin, but you're definitely the better actor. As I think about it, you remind me of MC's mother in many ways..."

Ra: "What are you doing here?" Scurra frowns, staring harshly at Raven. A silence passes and eventually he looks away, messaging his jaw, "Oops, guess I was mistaken. You looked a little like someone I know."

S: "You've got Orden written all over you, don't you?" Scurra says cheerily, "It's been a while since I've visited, but I have to say it gave me the most enjoyment. You all certainly know how to keep it lively."

F: "Your family has always been so hauty!" Scurra covers his mouth to suppress a chuckle, "But I think it would be a mistake to talk down to everyone you meet. I happen to be on great terms with your mother. If I took the opportunity, you two would have been siblings!"

------------------------

Xero's insight:

E: He smiles warmly to E, "It's good to see you again. I'm afraid there was little I could do for you: your mother has already found out about your relationship. I expect she'll make it as embarrassing for you as possible, if I know her well. I hope you're mentally prepared."

R: Xero studies R with a faint curiosity, "I'm afraid your father and I are on less than speaking terms due to some...past difficulties, but I understand you are more than simply your father's child. You may be villianized for your differing viewpoint, but aren't we all? I don't find it is so bad," Xero gives R a knowing small."

L: Xero's eyes widen upon seeing L, then falls into a soft smile, "To think history would repeat so aptly. To see you two now reminds me of my own school days," Xero closes his eyes and releases a light sigh, the smile still present, "I pray you'll also find the same happiness I did, and that it lasts longer."

V: Xero's grip tightens on an file in his hands as he sees V, his voice meticulous, "You are...Wolfe, correct? I'll admit the what I've heard and read of you is...less than appealing, but," he casts his gaze between you and the ex-Jagd member, a faint smile growing on his lips as V steps cautiously between you. "You seem to have a strong sense of duty. I hope you will be a good pillar for MC."

P: He looks disaprovingly, "In my field, words are paired with intention. To speak is to lay bare your thoughts. Why would you neglect your intent by forcing a negative connotation where it doesn't belong?"

M: He seems slightly more on edge than with P, "I don't believe I should offer my approval to someone unwilling to determine a focus. It's a testament to your negligence."

Ra: Xero crosses their arms, his face skeptical,"Marriage? Your lack of detailed forethought and hyperfixation gives me the impression of an unhealthy mind. As it stands now, I will refuse to give you my blessing."

S: "I'm afraid I'm ignorant to everything Orden related," Xero says sheepishly, "I am happy to learn all that I can, though. Perhaps you would like to bring your family at some point? I would be happy to host them here." Xero smiles warmly, clearly unknowing of the chaotic rabblerousing he's invited into his home.

F: "Ah, the royal line," Xero says in recognition of F, "Your own mother was a classmate of mine as well. To think one of her children would grow so closely with mine. Please give her my regards, would you? She has always kept herself closer than others, so I was happy when she took an interest in my friend. He's a lucky man."

---------------------

Mr. Razor's thoughts (if he was alive)

E: He bows his head gratefully, "Thank you for taking care of MC all this time. Your selflessness has saved me a lot of worry, and I doubt I'll have any more leaving them in your hands."

R: Razor's eyes bore a hole through R, "To defy your father was a considerable risk. And not knowing what the academy had planned for you, you still allowed yourself to be incarcerated for an indeterminate amount of time," Razor taps his fingers to his chin, a smile spreading over his lips, "I enjoy those that stick to their principles, but what say we work on your jailbreaking?"

L: "Your father's quite an important man. He's lucky I was never contracted to kill him," Razor says matter-of-factly. A chilling air of silence deafens the room until Razor holds up his palms, "Just kidding. I've never killed anyone. They all died mysteriously."

V: "How's Jagd doing?" Razor narrows his eyes keenly on V, "I'm surprised they were able to bounce back after what I did to them. I guess they filled the empty spaces with whoever was able...or moldable."

P: Razor smiles sadly, "It must be difficult to be given another person's expectations and do well with them. You're like a fish trying to climb a tree. But I enjoy how far up you've climbed despite that. Would you like a reward? I know, how about...your father's weakness?"

M: Razor seems disinterested, "You're not worth the words, Crater. You're nothing more than what your father made you to be: a simple shadow to live vicariously through."

Ra: Razor's eyes have an approving glint, "The one that slipped through the cracks. How very odd. MC's mother was quite odd too. It's an endearing quality, isn't it? Yes, I think you'll make a perfect companion for MC. You've already been looking over them all this time, haven't you?"

S: "Earnestness is one of the first qualities people tend to throw away when faced with hardship. It is impressive to see how you've progressed through your poverty and discrimination so aptly. Perhaps you have a hope that things will get better?" Razor's mouth spreads in a wicked smile, "I do enjoy seeing how people struggle for such a small glimmer of light. I think I'll offer my aid."

F: "Ah, it's always cute to see people play at royalty," Razor smiles at F's exasperated face, "Why do you seem so angry? Do you actually believe your position has meaning? I'll assure you it doesn't," Razor casts a darkening stare towards the royal, "To me, you're no harder to kill than a beggar on the street. The power you attempt to flaunt means nothing, because in the end it does nothing to elevate you beyond a simple street urchin."

----------------------

End

Thank ya for the ask!

[greyeyedmonster-18]

(a drabble in which i wrote following another drabble i wrote about what if sirius died in in ootp still when he had been raised by r/s the whole time. it's been in my drafts, clogging space, so, here you go fam.)

"Don't tell me I'm too young."

"You are."

"I don't want to hear that I'm going to regret it because I won't."

"Why?"

"Because Sirius died and this felt like the first bloody thing I could do that actually would mean something. That's why. So you can't say shit." Remus looked at the marks on Harry's arm again. For the first time connecting that the dots weren't random. It was a constellation.

--

"What the hell is that?" Remus asked, after doing a double-take at Harry's forearm as he washed dishes, his sleeves rolled up. "No, no I mean it, what the hell is that?" He turned off the water and grabbed Harry's wrist gently, bending down to get a better look at the black ink now on his skin.

"A tattoo."

"I can see that."

Harry pulled his wrist out of Remus' grip and looked at him defiantly, "What about it?"

"For starters, you're sixteen. Where did you even get it?"

"Stick and poke. Dean did it in the dorm."

Remus blinked, bringing a hand up to his temples. This was one conversation he and Sirius hadn't had before he died. Even though Sirius' entire body had been covered and he made no point in hiding them, James had a vastly different opinion. James worried every time Sirius added anything to his body, especially the ones on his skull, and he definitely wouldn't have wanted his kid to get one. Then again, James wouldn't have wanted Harry to have a vocabulary of swear words that put sailors to shame, but Remus and Sirius had kind of already fumbled that one. But there Harry was, in the kitchen with black ink on his arm, staring stubbornly up at Remus daring him to say something.

"Harry..."

"Don't tell me I'm too young."

"You are."

"I don't want to hear that I'm going to regret it because I won't."

"Why?"

"Because Sirius died and this felt like the first bloody thing I could do that actually would mean something. That's why. So you can't say shit." Remus looked at the marks on Harry's arm again. For the first time connecting that the dots weren't random. It was a constellation. "I also was drunk when this happened, we all were, so if you're going to shout at me, you might as well include that."

Remus inhaled deeply, putting his hand on the back of Harry's head and pulling him into his chest. His teenager stilled for a moment, before softening and wrapping his arms around Remus in a firm embrace. "We...never had that conversation," Remus mumbled into Harry's hair.

"What?"

"About whether or not we would be okay with tattoos...I think Sirius would've loved it. He'd probably go get one with you if you wanted to...your Dad--James-- hated them though and your mother was on the fence. But, the point is we never had a conversation at all. Because you were fifteen and we thought we still had time to have it. Two years at least," Remus said, pulling away to look at Harry's face again, "He had...big plans. He got excited about a lot of things, but I think he was most excited to take you for your first drink. Legally."

"Sorry..."

Remus sighed, "I...can't be mad, love," he said softly, "Sirius...liked to give the best parts of himself to you, all the time. To me too. Didn't like to be angry around us, or drink too much around us...when he had bad days, especially when you were younger, he'd go get a tattoo because he felt like it was the only thing he could do. I think he took you with him once, because I was teaching and--"

"I remember that a little."

"I tried to be mad at him for it, but...I couldn't." Remus looked at the ink on Harry's arm once more, "So, it seems fitting that you were having a bad day, and you got a tattoo. Were you at least drinking firewhiskey?"

Harry laughed a little, "I was. And I vomited in the loo the next morning for about an hour."

"Perfect."

[lottiebagleywritesobx]

Love Language

At the time they'd made it the language had felt like no one would ever be able to understand it.

They were only 9 and JJ had been granted permission to stay at her house, her parents used to be around a lot, although they weren't anymore, and they'd always welcomed her blonde best friend leading to his near constant presence at their home.

It was late for two kids, maybe 10 pm, and they'd been wrapped in blankets in her box sized room that felt so much bigger when they were young.

They always got each other in a way no one else understood for reasons way more complex than a secret language they would use to write each other messages, but at 9, all they needed to know was that the language was another thing that tied them together.

It was simple: to spell a word you combine the first letters of the other words.

So to write Hello  you would write Hungry Elephants Love Lollipops Okay

It had stuck a lot at first, they used it everyday and it drove Pope and John B insane, but as they got older it died out.

It was used a few times at 12 when they had an annoying teacher who made students read notes out if they were caught passing them, to everyone else it sounded like gibberish.

It was used once at 15, the world help spelled out when an older Kook boy wouldn't leave her alone and she knew he was reading her phone screen over her shoulder, not wanting to trigger him.

Now, at 17, she had laughed out loud when she'd unfolded the note tucked into her locker.

In JJ's scrawl that only she could read with ease.

 Ukraine

Rollercoaster

Penguin Ranch Eyelash Tractor Tangerine Yoghurt

You are pretty. She blushed a little, looking around for any sign of the familiar blonde boy but he was nowhere to be seen, she tucked the note into her bag, hating the way he made her heart race, before shoving the books she didn't need over the weekend into her locker and walking down the corridor and out of the front doors.

When she arrived at the twinkie her friends were already there "Took your time," John B smirks from his open window, occupying the front seat

"She was probably busy flirting with Mack," Sarah teases from the passenger side

"For the last time Sarah, he just needed tutoring in bio,"

"You are shit at bio," Sarah smirks even wider

"Better than you sweetheart," The girl grins, climbing into the back and diving out of Sarah's reach as she moves to try and flick her. Both girls laughing loudly

"I'll get the door then," Pope chides

"Thanks P, i can't get too close  or Sarah will attack me," She grins, Pope rolls his eyes but sends her a grin as he leans forwards to pull the door to the twinkie closed.

She moves through the seats to her usual space, she always sat next to JJ, no matter what. They could be drinking at the chateau, relaxing at the beach, adventuring on the boat. No matter what they were next to each other. It wasn't uncommon when one of them was feeling tired, or clingy, or touch starved for her to end up in his lap, his arms wrapped around her stomach and his chin on her shoulder.

She leans up pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, it wasn't uncommon in their friendship, often used as a greeting, a thanks or even just out of the blue, and so the other's don't think anything of it even though JJ feels himself melting into a puddle. What is a little different though is the way she grabs his hand giving it a tight squeeze before pulling her own away and settling down in her seat as John B starts up the van. He knows what it is. It's a silent thanks for the note, not wanting to say anything in front of their friends but it was a sign she got it and she was grateful for it.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, his touch gentle but Pope gives him a knowing look, the touch is supposed to claim her. She either doesn't notice or  doesn't seem to mind though, instead leaning into his now open side as she chats happily with Kie.

**

It's monday morning and JJ is in first period history. He fucking hates history, yet, it had become his favourite subject simply because it was the only one all 6 pogues shared. He opens his school bag with sigh, placing the textbook on his desk and starting to fish around the bottom of the bag for a loose pen.

Pope turns around from the seat in front of him, placing a pen on his desk with a knowing smile. JJ drops his bag to the floor, opening the text book only for a note to fall out.

Her neat writing fills the page and the smile on his face is immediate.

Umbrella

Rocket

Happy Ant Neck Drop Surf Olive Mars Egg

JJ tries to ignore the feeling of a red hot blush creeping up his neck as he turns to look at the next desk along, she's already looking at him with a smirk shooting him a week before turning to face the front, god if JJ can't feel himself falling.

**

It continues for weeks.

Tucked into the wind screen wiper of her old shitty truck.

Taped to the sandwiches she would bring him to lunch.

On her pillow when she went to bed one night.

Stuffed into the pocket of the hoodie she borrowed.

Her school bag.

The bathroom mirror at the chateau.

They both started to home a large collection of notes. Her's placed neatly in a drawer in her bedroom. His tucked in a box under the floor board that lifts up in the room he claims as his at the chateau.

**

"What you writing?" John B questions as he steps onto the porch

"Just a note for y/n,"

"You guys have been passing a lot of secret notes recently," John B comments, JJ shrugs placing the pen down "It's sweet,"

"What d'ya mean by that?" JJ questions, John raises his eyebrows giving JJ a knowing look before having a realisation.

"You still haven't told her you're head over heels in love with her?"

"No," JJ admits, he was way past his days of fighting back when his friends accused him of being in love with her. "I don't know how to. You know me, I never say things right and I just- I really don't want to fuck this up. Only got one shot at it,"

"So write it," John B shrugs like it's obvious

"I can't,"

"You can,"

"What if she doesn't feel the same?"

"JJ, you're the most annoying person I know and she puts up with you all the time and has done since you were 2 . She feels the same,"

**

She's only wearing a bikini and a tshirt that belongs to JJ when she exits her house on Saturday morning. Her plans to meet at the Chateau go surfing with Kie already made, she grabs her board and at first she doesn't even notice it, attached to the cool box full of water and fruit she'd loaded up the night before is a note.

Ice

Art Magic

Igloo Note

London Orange Venus Elephant

Wine Ill Tiger Hungry

Yam One Under

It takes less than a minute for her to decipher the note, abandoning her surf board and the cooler in favour of sprinting to the Cheateau.

JJ is seemingly waiting for her when she arrives, he's pacing in front of the house, going still the second he sees her.

"Are you kidding?" She questions, he's stares, eyes wide not quite able to process why she looks so hopeful. "Because JJ, if this is some fucked up joke I will literally never speak to you again,"

"It's not a joke," He assures

"It's not?" She questions, it's het turn to still, having expected to arrive for him to laugh and ruffle her hair like he was her brother.

"No. I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since we were 12 and you stole my cap and started wearing it everyday,"

"We were 14 and you snuck into my room because my parents were fighting and you read harry potter to me cause you knew my parents used to," She states

He nods, now it was all out there in the open neither of them quite knew what to do.

"For fucks sake kiss already!" Pope shouts, they turn seeing all the pogues watching them from the porch.

JJ looks at her, an unspoken question in his eyes. "Just promise me if this all goes tits up we will be friends, cause I can't loose you maybank,"

He holds his pinky out, smiling as she loops her with his and squeezes slightly. He pulls her into his chest with their pinkies. Lips crashing onto hers, spare holding her closer to him by the small of her back. Her empty hand moving to play with the blonde curls she's wanted to run her fingers through a thousand times. Their pinkies stay linked by their side, his thumb stroking at her hands lightly.

Yeah, she'd be keeping the note he left in there little love language.

[quotidian-oblivion]

THE OFFICE [After binge-watching the entire show of The Office in a week] Dick: Wow. All that knowledge. Peter: We should somehow put it to good use. Shuri: Agreed. Wally: *Aggressively nodding while googling for Schrute Farms reservations* [Later] Bruce Banner: Have... have the kids been acting weird lately? Hawkeye: They're always weird. Captain America: I think he means weirder than usual. You did mean that right? Cuz I agree. Just yesterday I cracked a joke about Chemistry at modern school and Peter just sighed, shook his head and stared into empty space. Black Widow: A couple days ago, to literally anything I said, Robin followed it with "That's what she said"! Bruce Banner: No way! That's what's been happening to me! I couldn't say anything at all, like, "Some metals explode when in contact with water" without either Shuri following it with "That's what she said" or all four of them staring into space. Hawkeye: Pretty sure all four of them burst into tears at one point. Black Widow: Pretty sure that wasn't after Robin told Wally that he was too young to be his bestest mensch. Hawkeye: Ah yes. I remember. [Flash and Iron Man enter the meeting room, slurping slushies] Iron Man: 'Sup guys. What's been happening? Just binge-watched the entirety of The Office in just an hour with my pal Flashy here. He's got some sick powers. Flash: Yeah. It's crazy that you guys don't have The Office in your universe. How do you live? [Meanwhile] Wally: GUYS! I FINALLY FOUND A SCHRUTE FARMS IN PETER AND SHURI'S UNIVERSE WHICH MEAKES NO SENSE WHATSOEVER BUT WE'RE HEADING THERE RIG HT NOW PACK YOUR FRIGGIN' BAGS WE GONNA BE LIVING THE R U S T I C LIFE!

[snowywrites]

Doki Doki Literature Club Girls x Reader

summary: you spend the day at the amusement park with the rest of the Literature Club! (it's recommended to read these together in order because they are connected, but if you prefer then you can read just whichever one you want to. Reader is intended to be female.)

full word count: 7.7k

Sayori

It was a gorgeous Saturday morning in town. The sun was shining high overhead in the pale blue sky, but the fluffy white clouds drifting by here and there were enough to ensure that it wasn't too hot. There also happened to be a nice, soothing breeze out, you note to yourself as you gaze out your open window to the neighborhood. A perfectly lovely day.

Well. That was enough of that, you muse to yourself as you slide your window closed again and pull the curtains in front of it to avoid any of the cheery sunshine washing into your room- it created an awful glare off of your computer screen which made it hard to watch your anime.

Content with your decision to stay inside today and catch up on your favorite shows, you walk over to sit down at your desk and turn on your computer. That's as far as you get before the doorbell rings, however.

You ignore it for now, assuming someone else in the house will go answer it. Then you suppress a groan of frustration when you recall that you're home alone for the better part of the day, a big reason why you had set the date aside to stay indoors and enjoy some peace, quiet, relaxation, and anime.

The doorbell rings again and again, much more insistent now; it almost could be playing a song of some kind. "I'm coming!" You call as if the visitor can hear you, grudgingly hopping up and hurrying downstairs. The doorbell just keeps ringing, and you don't even check the peephole to see who it is before you open up because the sound is really starting to grate on your nerves and you just need it to stop as soon as possible.

Your neighbor and somewhat-best-friend Sayori is standing there, and she looks a little shocked to see you, despite this being your house. She slowly presses the doorbell one last time, and you resist the urge to sigh heavily.

"Hi, Sayori. What's up?" You question. It's been a minute since you two have visited outside of the Literature Club, so you're making an effort not to act as annoyed as you feel for being so rudely disrupted. She could have at least texted a message saying she was going to be dropping by- then again, this was Sayori. Odds were, she had been walking by heading to the store or something and spotted your home, causing her to make the impulsive decision to bug you.

Her eyes brighten and a wide smile replaces her startled expression. "Hey, Y/N! It's Saturday!"

You stare at her for a moment. "Uhm...yeah, it is." You aren't entirely sure what she's expecting from you- maybe an invitation to come inside? Sayori's sort of a pain to watch movies or shows with, though. She's such a chatterbox and can't really focus on one thing for long at all, so whenever she does tune back in, she's got a million dumb questions that she'd know the answer to if only she'd bothered to pay attention. Nonetheless, you offer, "Did you wanna hang out? I was about to watch some anime, and you can join me, if you'd like."

Your words don't seem to come as any shock to Sayori, and she shakes her head firmly. "Y/N! I figured you were shutting yourself up in here. It's seriously a nice day, let's get out and have some fun!"

So much for compromising! And you'd even been trying to be nice, sheesh. "But I-" You frowned, trying to come up with an excuse for why you couldn't go out today, eventually settling on the truth since it was easiest. "I was just looking forward to some downtime, maybe next time though, okay?"

Instantly Sayori is pouting, acting like the exact same little kid you first met years ago rather than the almost-adult she was. "We've had this talk before, I don't want you becoming a total NEET! You can watch your shows tomorrow, but we really should enjoy this day, I bet it's gonna rain tomorrow! I mean, the rain is fun too, but-"

You're visibly defeated. "Okay, okay, lemme just grab some money. What'd you have in mind?"

Instead of calming down now that she's gotten her way, Sayori gives an excited little bounce, clapping her hands together. "Thanks, Y/N!" She grins at you, radiating warmth and energy. "I was thinking the amusement park!"

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

The amusement park was in town for another few days, and you had yet to go to it, but you doubted you were missing out on much. It was crowded with people, as expected, and you recognized a lot of other people from your school even in their casual clothes. It made you absently wonder if any of the other girls in the Literature Club were here today...

"Hey, did you hear me?"

Sayori's voice shakes you out of your thoughts, and you look over at her. "Oh, sorry. What'd you say?"

She doesn't seem upset in the slightest. "I said, we have to go on the roller coaster!" She points excitedly across the park where you can see the top of the coaster. A lot of screams and a long line are in that direction, and you do your best not to look nervous.

"R-Roller coaster? Isn't there anything else you want to do first?" Trust Sayori to immediately pick the biggest attraction in the place. You're a tad surprised she isn't already hungry, to be honest, though you two did just enter the park.

"Coaster first!" Insists your best friend, taking your hand and beginning to drag you off towards the ride in spite of your clear hesitance. "And then probably food! I'd hate to get sick, you know?"

You can't help but smile. It was likely the most responsible thing you'd ever heard Sayori say, and one which you were grateful for considering you two would obviously be sitting next to each other. It helps you to relax a little bit too, but as you join the line with her, you can feel your anxiety starting to mount yet again the closer and closer you get.

Sayori is chattering away, but you're trying to block her out because she's babbling about all sorts of things. You wonder suddenly if she's trying to distract you...but quickly brush that assumption away. It would be nice, but Sayori just tended to talk a lot all the time, this wasn't new.

After what feels like much too short of a time, it's your turn to ride the roller coaster. Fear grips you, much as you don't want to admit it. You shoot a panicked glance at Sayori, who was humming cheerfully to herself. She meets your gaze, and her hum falters, tapering off. She gives you a reassuring and oddly quiet smile, taking your hand. It's different than before, when she'd been pulling you through the park. This time, her grip is steady but not demanding, allowing you to pull away if you wanted to do so. It's also possibly the only time you can recall ever seeing your best friend look so...shy.

It's more comforting than anything she could've said, and you give her hand a squeeze to thank her. The two of you enter the roller coaster in seats next to each other, and a worker comes along to help the two of you strap in properly. Your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, and you're assuming it's just because of the roller coaster adrenaline, nothing more.

The ride starts and you close your eyes shut tight, keeping a death grip on Sayori now; you can hear her breathless and excited laughter even through the sounds of the other riders screaming and whooping. Many twists and turns, sometimes slow and sometimes fast yet always nerve-wracking, and a particularly terrifying drop-off later, and the ride is over.

You blink open your eyes, stunned to realize you're still in once piece, and leap out of the coaster as soon as possible, tearing your hand out of Sayori's. She doesn't seem all that worried about it, fortunately. She climbs out onto the solid and safe ground next to you, and you bite back a giggle. Her hair is so crazy and windswept and sticking out in all directions from the ride, but then you figure yours probably is too, and self-consciously try to pat it down.

Unlike you, Sayori doesn't appear concerned with her appearance, her cheeks flushed with delight and invigoration, not embarrassment. "That was so much fun!" She cheers, spinning around you as if she still had too much energy to contain. Then she paused, practically glowing as she looked at you and you only had a heartbeat to notice that she was very close in your personal space. "Thank you so much for coming with me, Y/N."

It was such a genuine and vulnerable statement that you were briefly at a loss for words, trying to read the uncharacteristically intense emotions shining in your friend's blue eyes. "I- it was, sure, it was a lot of fun, Sayori..." You trail off awkwardly, stepping back a pace to escape the close proximity.

Sayori opens her mouth to say something else, but a gasp comes out first as her attention fixes on something behind you. "Can you buy me some pizza? Pleeeeaaaaseeeee? Pretty please?! I'm really hungry now!"

The moment is over with that, and you wince at her childish request. "Pizza sounds good," you relent, causing Sayori to squeal with excitement and rush off to the food stand. You're giving in a lot today, and you aren't sure why, honestly. It wasn't like this was more fun than staying home and watching your favorite shows, right? Although, you did enjoy Sayori's company. There was a reason she was your kind-of-best-friend after all.

Oh, well. You can think about it later. For now you might as well try to have a nice time while you were still here. You follow after your puppy-like friend, spotting her at one of the tables just outside of the food stand talking with someone sitting there. With a start, you recognize the violet long hair of your fellow clubmate, Yuri.

Approaching, you start to greet them, but Sayori interrupts you before you can. "Yeah, Y/N/'s here too!" She pointed at you brightly, and Yuri tenses up, looking up at you like a deer in the headlights, which confuses you. Yuri had seemed perfectly calm before now- sure, a little shy, but now she was the stuttering and nervous girl that you were most familiar with from the Literature Club.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Yuri

You smile, giving a tiny wave. "Hey there, Yuri." Of all the people you might have expected to see here at the amusement park, Yuri was perhaps at the bottom of the list. You would have assumed she would be like you on a Saturday, preferring to stay at home. Except she would be reading novels or writing most likely, not watching anime or reading manga.

You're partly right, because on the table in front of Yuri is an open book instead of anything to eat. How she was able to focus with all the conversation of groups of people swarming around, you had no idea.

"Y/N," whined Sayori after Yuri just gave you a slight nod of greeting, "My pizzaaaaa, please?"

You laugh, waving her away. "I'm going, I'm going, hush! Yuri, did you want anything?" You offered politely.

Your clubmate seems to shrink in on herself, allowing her long dark hair to fall so that it hid her face from your view a bit. "Ah-! Uhm, that's okay, thank you, though." Sometimes you weren't sure how she could write just long and beautifully-worded poems when she seemed to struggle so much with the simplest of phrases spoken outloud.

You accept this and go to buy yourself and Sayori a slice of pizza each, and end up buying Yuri a sweet tea too just because, well, you would feel weird and rude to eat in front of someone else if they didn't have anything. You make your way back over to the table where Sayori is talking to Yuri, her arms flailing around in wild gestures, and you get the suspicion that she's telling Yuri all about the roller coaster ride. Quick to intervene, you set the tray with the food and drinks down on the table, leaning towards Sayori threateningly. "What exactly are you talking about?" You inquire sharply, eyes narrowed.

Sheepishly, Sayori swipes one of the plates with pizza on it to take a bite and shrug, using the food as an excuse not to reply.

Huffing, you distribute the stuff you bought between the three of you, turning to Yuri to protect your reputation. "For the record, I was totally not scared," you promised her.

Yuri is slightly more comfortable now, you think, and there's a tiny glimmer of faint amusement and sympathy in her violet eyes. "I believe you," she murmurs back, so quietly that you almost were unable to catch that. She blinks at the drink that you placed in front of her, apparently having to take a second to process what it meant. And then, completely the opposite of Sayori, her head snapped towards you and her gaze was now wide. "Oh-! You- thank you, Y/N, but- you really, didn't have to, go through the trouble...!"

You tuck into your meal, taking your time in replying while Sayori scarfs down her own food, curiously glancing between you and Yuri as if studying the interaction. "It's no worries," you say after a short while. "I��would've felt bad otherwise since me and Sayori have something." You turn your attention to the forgotten book in front of Yuri. "Sorry if we bothered you, by the way! We didn't mean to interrupt your reading or anything."

Sayori bobbed her head in an enthusiastic agreement since her mouth was full and she couldn't say anything.

Once again, you worried that you'd said the wrong thing because Yuri's reaction was much the same as the last time you'd said anything. "That's- that's okay, really! It wasn't, important, and I was..." She seems to give up, seeming helpless and frustrated with herself, only able to take a sip of her drink in defeat.

Sayori finished with her food, standing up abruptly. "Thanks, Y/N!" She chirps, apparently not effected by your and Yuri's awkwardness. "I'm gonna go check out some other stuff, so you should have fun with Yuri!"

Her words catch you off guard, and before you can react or suggest the three of you find something to do together, Sayori is already racing off somewhere, waving over her shoulder at the two of you. You watch as she slams into someone as she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going, and shake your head as she profusely apologizes to them. "Oh, Sayori," you sigh a little dramatically to Yuri. "What are we gonna do with her?"

The other girl bites her lip like she's trying to hold back a laugh. "It's nice that you look after her," she speaks up quietly.

"Ah- I mean, somebody has to, right?" You chuckle to yourself as you resume eating.

Yuri is fine with silence, which doesn't really surprise you. She opens her book back up and starts to read after a minute or two, and you're content too to just finish up your pizza and do some people-watching.

Eventually when you do finish, you throw away your trash and then rejoin Yuri, who's politely closing her book again and standing up as well. She's calmer now, as if reading and not having to engage in conversation for a little bit has recharged her, which you're happy for. "Uhm..." She begins timidly. "Would you like to walk around the park with me?"

You aren't used to Yuri initiating anything at all, and in the space of your bewilderment, she hurriedly continues, "It's okay if you'd rather not-! I only thought..it might be fun, but I understand if..." The last part is more of a mumble.

"Sure, Yuri, I'd love to!" You try to reassure her as smoothly and swiftly as you can in order to avoid hurting her feelings any further or even risking her fleeing. Yuri was such a sweet person, and you'd never want to say no to her and have to see her awfully sad expression, you reflect. "We can head...that way." You pick a random direction and start walking, Yuri following you meekly. She walks near you, but also just a step or two behind, and when you try to slow down so you guys can actually walk together, she stops altogether. Deciding you can't do anything about it for now, you continue the trek, absently looking around at the various stands, games, and rides as you pass them. "I wasn't expecting to run into you here, to be honest," you comment.

Yuri's silent for a beat, causing you to wonder if she was even going to say anything back to that. She finally does, thankfully. "Admittedly, this isn't the sort of place I might usually spend a weekend at." Her words are low and carefully-chosen as usual, like she's cursed to overthink even the barest minimum of small talk. "But my parents insisted I come here."

An amused smile quirks up your lips as you glance back at her. "So you brought a book instead of arguing with them?" You deduct. "Clever. I would've brought a manga or something, but Sayori was impatient to get here. She's always trying to drag me out my house and make me socialize. Take the Literature Club, for example."

Yuri gives you a tiny nod. "It's kind of them to care about us," she says. "I do sometimes wish they could understand me better, though."

"I get that," you agree. "Even if they're a pain sometimes, you love them anyway."

Yuri evidently agrees, but something causes her to stop walking. You pause too, going back to join her. Her attention is on an attraction nearby, a 'haunted house' sort of place. She doesn't look like she had any idea it was here, and you recognize interest and anticipation on her face, which makes you happy- you might be getting a little bit better at reading Yuri, the more time you spend with her.

She reluctantly focuses back on you, and you sense she's about to apologize and continue walking, so you speak before she gets the chance. "We can go check it out, if you want?"

Your clubmate lights up for a moment before wincing. "We don't have to, if you wouldn't like it," is her answer. It's honestly not annoying, mainly because Yuri makes indecisiveness, shyness, and doormat-ness look really, really cute.

"It might be fun," you laugh, guiding her across to the entrance. It looks pretty stereotypical, and you recall going to one of these kinds of places with Sayori one year for Halloween when you were much, much younger, probably like 11 or 12. The line isn't long at all, which is also a bonus. When you two are given the all clear to go inside, you and Yuri enter the narrow, dark hallway.

You're suddenly quite aware of how close Yuri is as you walk- instead of trailing behind, she's right at your side now, pressed up against you since there's not a ton of room in this corridor. She doesn't seem to notice, too enraptured (ha, maybe you were hanging around her too much) by the thrill of what scares might await them to pay you much mind.

Talk about making a girl feel self-conscious. Despite being around the same age, Yuri was so much more...mature than you, to put it politely. It was nice in a way too- you felt safer than if you were by yourself, at the very least, since she was taller than you and so close to you.

The haunted house wasn't too scary, like you had assumed. The actors were great though, and at some point one of them lunged out towards you from a secret passageway and it startled you so badly that you ended up leaping backwards and pressing back against Yuri, your eyes wide and your heart hammering so loudly you bet the violet-haired girl had no trouble hearing it.

You stared tensely at the 'monster', needing a moment to collect yourself and remember how to breathe again. It's Yuri that manages to bring you out of it, which is so sweet of her since you all but crashed into the poor girl. She wraps her arms around you in a very gently hug, resting her chin on your hair. Where did all that confidence come from, anyway? It may have been the really dim lighting, you think to yourself- you can hardly see each other, so that could've given Yuri some boldness. Either that or she was finally getting comfortable around you!

The actor slowly recedes away, and you stay perfectly still for a minute longer than necessary. Finally, you clear your throat, awkwardly disentangling yourself from Yuri, who hops away from you quickly too, and even in the near-pitch black you could swear that she's blushing like crazy as she tries to stammer out an apology.

You shake your head, smiling nervously even though she can't see it. "T-Thanks, Yuri."

Okay, so maybe you had lied a little bit about it being 'not too scary.'

That was the last of the real scares, and you gladly spring out into the sunlight of day again, stretching your arms over your head. You look back to see Yuri hovering back in the darkness of the haunted house- was she okay? You ask your thought outloud.

"Y-Yes! I'm sorry. I'm coming..." She grudgingly steps out to join you in the real world, and you realize with a sense of deep sadness that she's not meeting your gaze anymore again. Great, just when you finally thought you were starting to make some progress on being friends with her. "That was a nice time, thank you very much, Y/N-" Those next words are blurted out and spoken so fast you're shocked she doesn't stutter over them. And the next thing you know, she's gone, disappearing into the crowds and leaving you alone and more than a little disappointed and confused.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Natsuki

You sigh to yourself as you wander around the amusement park, scanning around to see if anything piques your interest. You were also sort of hoping to see Sayori, considering she was responsible for dragging you here and now she'd ditched you, but you also wouldn't mind bumping into Yuri again to hang out. Something told you that Yuri had been pushed to her social interaction limit for the day though.

A loud, squeaky, angry, and oh-so-familiar voice causes you to head towards it and check out what's happening. As you thought, it's Natsuki, another of the girls in the Literature Club. She's standing at one of the game stands with her hands on her hips and leaning towards the guy running the game in an aggressive stance. You note that the game is one of those ones where you have to throw some darts at a balloon, and if you can pop one, you can get a prize. The prizes line the wall behind the man (more like disinterested teenage boy, but close enough), and they all are varying degrees of fluffy and cute stuffed animals. You never were a fan of amusement park games because they were more often than not rigged more than a claw machine.

You get a little closer so that you can hear better.

"...completely unfair! I hit that balloon, you and I both saw it!" Hisses Natsuki at the worker. It was too easy to compare her to a puffed up and angry kitten, you muse to yourself.

The boy shrugs. "Look, kid, if the balloon doesn't pop, then you don't get a prize. That's like, our only rule."

Fury flashes across Natsuki's face, and you resist the urge to laugh. Natsuki did look pretty young, but she was around your age, and probably this guy's age too. "Don't call me 'kid'!" She exclaims. "I won, fair and square! Just because it didn't-"

The argument was starting to draw in other bystanders, not just yourself. And you realize with a flicker of fear that you can see the worker reach for his walkie-talkie like he's going to call in security. Security on Natsuki, for god's sake. Ridiculous.

To prevent her from possibly being forcibly removed from the amusement park, you hurry over and place some money down on the game stand stable. "Can I try?" You interject. Even though you're not looking at Natsuki, you can feel her flinch away from you and sense her hostility and surprise at this new turn of events.

The boy running the stand regards you boredly, but you're relieved to see him put the walkie-talkie down. "Sure. That'll get you three tries."

Beside you, Natsuki scoffs. "As if you can hit one of them!" She grumbles. "It's not as easy as it looks." By how frustrated she was acting, you could guess that she'd been here the better part of the day attempting to win. But which prize did she have her eye on?

"Maybe not, but I can give it a shot," you say lightly. "Which one are we after?" You question her.

Natsuki glares at you fiercely, and you can see she's got a blush that matches her hair. Grudgingly, she points towards one of the bigger stuffed animals, a white bunny rabbit near the very top. "It's- it's not for me!" She informs you at once. "I wanted it for- for a friend. That's all."

'She's a terrible liar.' Nodding, you turn your attention to the man and tell him, "If I win, we get the bunny. Deal?"

"Means you've gotta shoot the purple balloon."

Of course, the purple balloon is at the very top of the wall of balloons. Fantastic. You don't have too much hope that you'll actually be able to pop it, especially when you see the kinds of darts he hands over to you. First of all, the tips are so blunt and dull that you can 100% believe that Natsuki did hit the balloon with one, but it wasn't nearly sharp enough to even hurt someone if they tested it against their skin. Second, the weight of it felt wildly uneven in the palm of your hand. The shape of the dart just wasn't sufficient enough to propel it through the air like it should have. This was precisely why you never would waste your time or money on this...but you couldn't exactly back out now, not with Natsuki's intense magenta eyes watching you like a hawk. If you didn't at least make an attempt, you'd never hear the end of it at the Literature Club, and it might cause you to lose what little respect Natsuki had for you. Which never seemed like a lot to begin with.

"C'mon, we've got a line now," sighed the worker, unimpressed with your examination of his faulty darts. It wasn't his fault they sucked, anyway. You were so focused on aiming your first dart that you didn't see the angry glance Natsuki cast at the boy.

You pulled back your arm and flung the dart at the balloon. It was pretty pitiful, you couldn't deny that. It sailed off away from the wall of balloons and landed outside of the game stand on the grass somehow.

Natsuki huffed a sigh, her arms crossed. But when the worker snorted and tried to hide his laughter, the little pinkette sprang closer like an affronted pomeranian. "It's not her fault these darts are total crap!" She snapped. You would never have expected in a million years for Natsuki of all people to jump to your defense and try to protect your honor.

She catches your wide-eyed gaze and then looks off to the side irritably. "Keep- keep your eyes to yourself," she growled under her breath.

You fortunately have the sense not to tease her about it. You have a better feel for how the darts travel through the air now, so you pick up the second one and aim again before sending it sailing. This time, it manages to hit the purple balloon target, but it simply bounces off the surface of it and clatters to the ground.

Natsuki opens her mouth to potentially blow up on the man, but you press a finger to your lips in a silent plea to ask her to be quiet. Now you have to take the brunt of her righteous fury in only a single expression, but she doesn't say a word.

One chance left.

You pick up your final dart, judging the distance from here to the balloon and considering the best angle to throw it. After a bit, you finally shoot your shot- and the resounding pop! catches you and all the bystanders by surprise.

What remains of the purple balloon flutters uselessly in the breeze. The worker still cares nothing for this, just goes to pluck the stuffed rabbit toy down from the prize wall.

You turn to beam at Natsuki, pleased with yourself. You've managed to surprise her, you can tell, and when you're handed your prize, you offer it out to Natsuki with a bright smile. "That was fun, huh?"

She stares at the bunny rabbit, still trying to process what had just happened. Slowly, as if she believed it's soft, fake fur was poisoned or something, she reached out to take it into her arms. Her face is growing more and more red by the second, and she buries it into the plush doll as if to hide herself or maybe try to regain her composure. Probably both.

The worker clears his throat loudly, indicating the two of you are still holding up the line, so you and Natsuki swiftly step to the side and start walking through the park. You're a little concerned she might trip over something or into someone since she's still hiding her face in the rabbit's fur and can't see where she's going, so you stick close to her in case she needs a hand to steady her. So much for 'letting her fall next time.'

When you can't handle the awkward silence any longer, you say, "Er, Natsuki...? Are you-"

She straightens up, cuddling the rabbit close to her. "It's fine!" She squeaks. "I- I mean- that was-" She's truly struggling here, and it makes you feel guilty. "You did okay," she manages to at last get out.

A twinge of unexpected hurt flashes through you. You'd privately been hoping that she would be impressed and grateful, but you guessed you shouldn't have ever thought those words might even be in Natsuki's vocabulary. "Oh..." You didn't mean for it to come out so forlorn, but you couldn't help it. "Yeah, thanks." You turn away from her, fighting back your disappointment. "I guess I'll see you at the club after school Monday, then-"

As you take the first step away, however, you feel Natsuki's hand dart out to grab your arm and force you to stop. "Wait!" Her voice is high-pitched with some frantic emotion you can't place a name to. "W-Wait, Y/N- I only meant that-" She huffs, stomping her shoe on the ground in obvious exasperation that you could only hope wasn't directed at you. "I-" God, it's a train wreck not just for her, but for you to witness too. "Thank you-!" The words have to be practically dragged out of her, so she tries again. "...Thank you."

You wait in confusion to see if there's anything else she's going to add, but when she doesn't, you tentatively reply, "Uhm...no problem-? I mean, you're always bringing cupcakes and stuff to share with everyone, so I just was hoping maybe I could try to return the favor and get you something." You pause. "I mean, get you something that you wanted to give to your friend." Best to try and fix any potential mistakes that could get you yelled at again.

Those words had some kind of effect on Natsuki, that was for sure, but you had no idea if it was a good kind or a bad kind. She's gazing up at you silently, seemingly frozen in place. Something snaps her back to reality, for she at last releases your arm, hugging the rabbit again like it could support her. "I guess...you can be really sweet sometimes instead of just a pain in the ass," she mumbles. You're about ready to be offended until Natsuki slowly holds out her bunny towards you, refusing to look at you. You're extremely befuddled and not sure what to expect when the soft nose of the plush bunny rabbit is touched gently against your cheek in a gesture that's very much like a feather-light kiss. "S-Stupid."

You feel like you're too paralyzed to respond in any kind of way, and besides, Natsuki's already brushing past you and stalking off, not giving you a moment to react anyway. You stand there for what feels like a long time after she's gone until it feels like you might have just imagined what happened there at the end.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Monika

Your day at the amusement park was drawing to a close, and suffice to say, you were thoroughly exhausted by everything that had happened. You stop to rest at one of the benches that was sort of away from the throngs of people who were starting to leave the park to head home, so at least the crowds were thinning out. Sayori had insisted you guys come here today, since it was Saturday and all, but she'd ditched you what feels like forever ago, and then you'd run into all the other members of the Literature Club- well, almost all of the other members, that is.

You let your mind drift as you sat there, leaning back into the wooden white bench and staring up at the sky. The yellow light was starting to fade as the sun slowly began it's descent into the horizon line. The amusement park would be closing in maybe an hour or so, you think to yourself as you let your eyes drift shut. You should really go and try to find Sayori so you can walk home together with her...not that the streets weren't safe in the evening, but it was entirely possible your friend could get lost or distracted and end up wandering around town for hours when she should be home. But you were honestly worn out from hours of walking around and socializing...

Right when you've finally gotten comfortable enough that you think you're dozing off out of reality and into a well-deserved, dreamy nap, there's a voice from right beside you that scares you enough to make you jump and snap your eyes wide open.

"Hi, Y/N! Fancy meeting you here."

Aaand, now you'd come across all of your Literature Club members- sitting on the bench beside you with her hands folded neatly in her lap was Monika. You've never seen her in anything besides her school uniform before, but the casual white and mint-green floral spring dress matched both her signature white bow and her eyes nicely at the same time. You hadn't even heard her walk up or sit down, which was kind of odd, but not odd enough for you to really think anything of it.

"Ah- hi, Monika," you greet with a small smile, trying to relax and not look as out-of-sorts as you felt. You run a hand through your hair, exhaling quietly in what was almost a sigh. "Yeah, I wasn't planning on leaving the house today, to be honest," you say in faint amusement. "Sayori sort of dragged me here to hang out."

Monika tilts her head to one side with a pleasant smile in return to you. "I see." She glances around as if she's expecting to see Sayori racing towards the two of you and calling loudly, her arms up in the air to get both of your attentions. But you and Monika are mostly alone. "So you spent the day with her?" The question is casual, and you don't think much of it at all.

"Uhm, not the whole day. We spent a little time together before she ran off somewhere...I bumped into Yuri and Natsuki today too, actually. Oh, but I was sort of thinking I should go try and find Sayori so we could head home."

Monika's emerald green gaze flicks away from you as a breeze ruffles her hair and yours. She doesn't respond for a moment, but you see that her friendly smile has faded somewhat now- and she looks...it's hard to say. Monika looks- gosh, you wish you were half as smart and descriptive as Yuri sometimes- wistful? Was that the word? Contemplatively wistful? She speaks again and it rouses you out of your daze. "So you were just about to leave." The Literature Club president flashes you an apologetic glance before rising gracefully up from the bench. "I didn't mean to bother; I can see you're tired, Y/N. I should get going too."

She doesn't seem sad, not necessarily, but you get the sense that something is a little off. Maybe it's the time of day affecting her mood? It's that weird hour where the day is technically over, but not quite yet- and there's a regretful longing permeating the atmosphere, the only way you could describe it might be like the feeling a high school kid gets on a Sunday evening, in spite of the fact today was Saturday, meaning the weekend wasn't over yet.

You move to stand up as well, a little clumsier than Monika. "But- there's still a little while before the park closes. If there was anything you still wanted to do here, I could come with you, if that sounds alright? Unless you were really going to leave, that is. I'm not so tired that I'd miss hanging out with you- outside of school, I mean."

There's the slightest hint of hesitation, and you're unable to decipher Monika's feelings right now. If you were to guess, you might say she's conflicted. Just as you're positive she's going to politely decline, her warm smile returns. "That would be nice," she says, and you realize you've been holding your breath.

"Okay, cool!" You brighten up and begin to walk through the amusement park with Monika.

She has her hands clasped behind her back and she's looking around to admire the scenery around you both while you do your best not to stare like a weirdo at her. "So, uhm...were you wanting to go on a ride or...?" You ask after a little while of silence.

Monika hums, but you don't think she's actually considering your suggestion. "I wouldn't ask you to wear yourself out anymore. When I first saw you on the bench, I thought you might have been taking a nap." While her tone of voice is casual, you can't shake the sense that there's an undercurrent of something else in those words. Almost like she's accusing others of making you tired or something. You're probably just imagining it.

Briefly, you wonder why she joined you if she thought you were asleep.

As if reading your thoughts, your club president continues, "Sorry if I disturbed you, Y/N." She slows the pace while you assure her that it was okay and she had done no such thing, stopping eventually to gaze upwards.

You follow suit to see the Ferris wheel towering above your heads. "I haven't been up there today," you comment thoughtfully. "Is it a pretty view?"

Monika dips her head slightly in assent. "I think so, yeah. Coming?" She leads you over to the man who is seating people in each of the carts, and he warns that this is the last go-around. "We understand, thank you," Monika says to him, and while she's just as charming, you think you know her well enough now to tell that this is her feigned politeness, like her guard is up.

He grunts and allows the two of you in one of the carts, shutting the glass door behind you.

You actually aren't scared at all. Well, you guess you are a little apprehensive at being in this small space alone with Monika, but you tell yourself you're being ridiculous. She's your friend, isn't she? So there's not a thing in the world to be nervous about...

The cart starts to go up into the air, and you stay standing while Monika takes a seat. Your hands press against the glass as the two of you climb higher and higher. The city is there, with all it's buildings and roads, but beyond it is... you can't really see what's beyond the city, and this confuses you. Shouldn't there be...something? Instead of just, blurry darkness? You blink several times and then brush at your eyes with the back of one hand like your sight is trying to deceive you. But when you look again, you still see only the murky black of nothingness beyond your city.

Monika's voice so near to you gives you a start- you'd been so dumbfounded by the missing scenery that you hadn't heard her stand up and come closer to you. Instead of watching the outside world, you sense her eyes are fixed intently on you. "What do you think?"

It's almost a relief to tear your gaze away from the glass. Her expression is rather closed off but serious, and sort of searching yours. You wish, not for the first time, that Monika was less of a mystery to you.

How to respond? "It's- strange," you manage to say.

The brunette leans impossibly closer to you, alight with surprise and near-disbelief as she presses, "What do you mean strange, Y/N?"

Feeling awkward and pressured, you find yourself taking a step backwards from Monika to get some space between you two. 'She'll think I'm crazy if I say it looks like we're floating in the middle of nowhere-outer-space in the middle of like a black hole or something.' "J-Just that-" You can see something akin to desperation written on her now, like she's trying to silently plead with you to answer her question sincerely. You fumble on the words, unused to this sort of intensity. "Just that...the town- it looks- different from up here..." Each word is stiff and awkward, you're really an awful liar, maybe even as bad as Natsuki.

Fervid disappointment seems to shake Monika's entire being, and she pulls back away from you, looking outside of the Ferris wheel cart again and far off into the distance. She's starting to become composed again and when the cart makes it last lap around and comes to a slow halt at the bottom, she turns back to face you and she's her usual self again: friendly, sweet, and bright. "I understand. Thank you, Y/N." The door to the cart opens and Monika moves to step out, offering you her hand to help you out.

Your breathing feels a little labored, and it isn't until later that you realize you'd actually been afraid. Not of Monika, more of the fact that you'd never once seen her behave anything like that before. It left such an impression on you that you were positive you hadn't imagined it. You do end up accepting her hand though, and you wonder if she can feel it's slight tremble.

One thing you weren't sure if you had imagined was the weird end of the world thing surrounding your city. Maybe there was something wrong with you. But you couldn't really think about that now.

"I told you it was a pretty view," giggled Monika. "You seem surprised. Didn't believe me?" She teased gently.

"Oh-! Oh, no, it isn't that! Like I said, it just was, er... different than I expected, is all," you murmur, glancing away- Monika's still holding your hand, but you don't have the heart to pull it out of her grasp.

You don't end up having to make that choice, since she jumps away from you at the yell of your friend Sayori. You see her bounding over to the two of you, just barely managing to hit the brakes and skid to a halt before colliding with you. She does however manage to shower you with dust and pebbles, to which you just press a hand to your forehead to quell a headache.

"Y/N! There you are! I was looking all over the place for you!" Sayori exclaims. She then waves at Monika, as bubbly as ever even though she should've, theoretically, gotten rid of some of that excess energy at the amusement park today. "Hey, Monika! Thanks for looking after her," she laughed.

Monika nods, much to your indignation. "My pleasure, Sayori. I'd better head off, then. I'll see you both after school for the club Monday!" She walked away, waving her farewell for a moment.

You didn't realize you were watching her go until Sayori's hand flailed in front of your face to get your attention. "Hey, we are going home together, aren't we?" She insists. "Otherwise I wasted soooo much time trying to hunt you down, Y/N!"

"Right, right, sorry. Of course we're walking back together- I was looking for you too."

Sayori pouts a little. "Did you think I'd be on the Ferris wheel?"

You grin. "Did you just use sarcasm, Sayori?"

She shakes her head quickly to deny it. "No, never! But am I wrong?"

"Okay, so maybe I did agree to spend some time with Monika," you confess with a shrug, allowing Sayori to pull you away towards the amusement park exit.

Sayori frowns, an unusual look for her. But it isn't a sad frown- it's a concentrated one. She was studying you with determination. "Did something happen? You seem a little out of it!" Amused, she pokes your cheek. "Fess up, Y/N! Do you have a crush on our club president? You have to tell me if you do! We're best friends!"

Sheesh, as if Sayori could ever keep a secret. But she was completely off base with that guess. "No," you answer her calmly. "I guess I...had some kind of epiphany."

".....what's an epiphany?"

'Ohmygod.'

[harrypotterbrainworms]

Found Family

Summary: “hi! I hope u r having a great day!💛 I was the one who request the ron x trans male reader and I have to say that I loved it! it was beautiful! if u are ok with it can I request one about how the weasley family would react about the reader first vacations after the transition? fluff please? a george x trans male reader pleaseI love ur fics! thanks for reading!” (request) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Trans Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name 

Word Count: 1812

(A/N): Took a while to get this done, but I really like it and it was very sweet.

“Oh my god, they’re gonna hate me. My hair is too shaggy, it got too shaggy, didn’t it? My face, oh no. I look nothing like I did. My voice, my face, me.” (Y/N) moved uncomfortably running his hands through his hair every second he could. He felt as nervous as he did at the beginning of the year.

“It’s gonna be fine, love. They already love you, I promise they’ll just love you harder, knowing them.” George Weasley, his beloved boyfriend, grabbed his hands holding them gently in his hands with a sweet smile on his face.

“But-“

“No butts, but mine, my dear.” George replied pointing at the beautifully round mother who came running toward them, one hand carrying a bag of lunch for the car ride home and the other ready to pinch any one of her kid’s faces.

“Here goes nothing.” (Y/N) sucked in a long breath and exhaled with a huge smile on his face. He was happy to see his basically second mother, but more nervous by the seconds that passed.

“Oh my boys! It’s been so long since I’ve seen your beautiful faces” She kissed each of the kids except (Y/N). The anxiety really started to build up when she turned around to face the twins not even acknowledging his presence. He was starting to spiral fast, quickly grabbing Geogre’s hand for support.

“Fred. George. I didn’t get many complaints. Good job.” She said sterningly, a cautious finger pointed at them as she looked around for someone, oh no, (Y/N) thought. She didn’t get the 20 letters he’d sent or maybe she’d make him stop dating George. No way this was gonna work.

“Thanks, mum” The twins sighed with a slight smirk on both their faces, even with the instant hurricane (Y/N) was pulled in, he wondered what they were planning.

“Well who’s this?” Molly asked, turning to (Y/N). His nerves hit an all time high and his heart stopped for a moment.

“It’s-uh-“ He stuttered out, of course she didn’t know who he was. He was so different, he felt like running away at this point.

“I’m just messing with you, deary! We missed you so much (Y/N)” She laughed giving him a huge hug and a pat on the back. He laughed nervously and steadied himself again. Her “pats” were devilishly strong.

“I missed you too, Mrs Weasley” (Y/N) said self-consciously, he wasn’t usually so formal with her. He’d known her for years now, but it felt like he was presenting a completely new version of himself.

“Don’t be so formal, my dear. Molly will do just fine, now boys and Ginny. We have a long trip and a lot of food to eat” She was smiling wide as she helped (Y/N) pull his trunk up from the ground.

The car ride was long and tiring as usual as he watched London pass and the country come into view. He was especially nervous about tonight’s big dinner. George squeezed his hand and smiled as they both looked on to the unfolding countryside.

“It’s gonna be great. Dad is gonna get drunk and we’re gonna laugh. Just like old times” He tried to cheer his boyfriend up, but it weighed on his heart more.

“Just like old times.” A phrase he didn’t particularly enjoy in his life right now.

Arthur Weasley loved winter, especially when he was downing glass after glass of fire whiskey as he tried to make jokes and fork at his meal. He stood up suddenly and everyone knew what was coming-

“A toast! I would like to make a toast” He shouted a little too loudly as he brought his glass up to the air.

“Oh no. Dad’s drunk toast.” Fred huffed out nudging George’s who was too busy dazzling (Y/N) for the 10th time that day.

“Oh Merlin.” He whispered back and mentally buckled up for the ride.

“To this wonderful family, a wonderful evening and most importantly to this lovely gentleman for coming!” Arthur pointed not so subtly at (Y/N), a deep crimson starting to appear on his face.

“Cheers!” The twins chanted in unison, egging their father on. Trying to length the speech as much as they could for entertainment of course.

“And might I add! To my lovely wife and her big beautiful bosom-“ Mr. Weasley was about to go on about his beautiful wife’s beautiful bosom, but was thankfully interrupted by Molly spitting out her drink as he was pulled back into his seat.

“Arthur.”

“Ham. Her big beautiful ham, always the best cooking in this house of course.” He added from his seat raising his glass once more, everyone raising their own glasses to toast Molly’s “ham”.

“This family” George whispered into (Y/N)’s ear causing him to giggle as he was clinking glasses with the room full of people.

He sighed in bed as he rolled over to look at George who was actually reading for once, but he suspected it was for prank research. He kissed forehead lightly and grabbed his night robe.

“I’m going to get some water”

“Cool, love you”

“Love you too, idiot” He sighed and walked down the rickety stairs of the burrow finding him and George were probably the only ones awake at this hour. He didn’t really need a glass of water, just a quiet moment alone as he watched the snow fall from the kitchen window.

In his silent moment he must’ve lost track of everything in existence because he barely heard Molly coming down the stairs and sitting in the chair besides him.

“Hello, dear. Can’t sleep?” She spoke up making him jump.

“Yeah.”

“Let me make you some hot chocolate” She pushed herself up from the chair and pulled out a pot and ingredients.

“That’s oka-“ He tried to answer, but it wasn’t really a choice. He didn’t really mind. It was just about 2am and he didn’t want to cause her any troubles.

“Nonsense, we’re having hot chocolate” As she filled a pot with some milk, cocoa and sugar. He liked that she didn’t really use magic when cooking, it reminded him of home. Finishing their drink she placed two mugs on the table and sat beside him once again, staring into the window with him.

He sipped on his warm drink a little awkwardly, he wanted to ask what was plaguing his mind. He just never knew when was the right time, he took another sip and sighed.

“Um- Mrs- I mean Molly. You don’t think it’s weird?” He asked quickly before his courage faded.

“What is, deary?” Molly said absentmindedly, looking at him a little puzzled. He darted his eyes back and forth before looking down at himself and she then understood.

“Oh. Not at all, dear. I’ve known many young wizards such as yourself, very upright young men” She smiled warmly at him, his eyes widened a bit in hope and excitement.

“Really?” He said, a question no one really needed to answer. He knew the answer now.

“Of course. I’ve been around, my dear. Meet a lot of people” She put her hand on his and he choked up a bit.

“So you-“

“Yes, dear. Family is family. I would accept you in any form and way no matter what. You’re a Weasley and I’m proud of you” She knew what he needed, she had. He looked at her with so much love in his heart as his eyes started to well up.

She immediately put their mugs down and embraced him tightly as he silently sobbed into her clothing.

“Oh my, dear. It’s okay, you always have a place at this table” She hushed him as she rubbed circles around his back.

“Thank you, Molly” He said, looking up at her and she just smiled sweetly.

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what a mother does, I have your back and every one of my children’s back.”

“Of course you do” He laughed a little and really let his thoughts ease up as he embraced him.

“Now, finish that hot chocolate and get to bed. I bet George is very worried about you right now” She said snuffing a bit as she stroked his hair as he continued to cry a bit. He gained composure and nodded into her.

“Yeah” He said, muffled by her nightgown.

“You’re a fine young man, my dear. George is lucky to have you, you keep those hooligans in check and most importantly. You love him and he loves you very much” He looked up at her pulling away from the hug, he swore he could see a few tear drops threatening to fall.

He took one last sip of the now room temperature drink and hugged Molly again, she gave him a kiss on forehead and sent him on his way.

He climbed up the stairs, his anxieties in the back of his mind as he rode his new found rush of happiness all the way back to George’s room.

“You smell like hot chocolate- oh no. Did mum talk to you? I hope she didn’t say anything weird, that woman is mad” George said as (Y/N) entered his room, but when he looked up from his copy of “Inconvenience Creation”, he saw the happiest smile on his boyfriend’s face. His heart felt warm and full, he was glad it went well.

“No actually. She said she was proud of me” (Y/N) smiled as he sat on the side of the bed, staring into space.

“Woah. She never says that to me, it’s worse than I thought. She’s replacing me with a better son” He teased and pulled his boyfriend into the bed with him, putting his book down. He breathed in his scent, his mum’s hot chocolate.

“Must’ve been some talk” He yawned and hugged his waist.

“Just don’t replace me anytime soon” He teased further earning a scoff and an eye roll.

“Shut up, asshole.” (Y/N) hit his arm and held his face up, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“I told you they would still love you.” He smirked at him reaching up to give him a soft kiss on the lips, but yawned mid kiss making (Y/N) laugh.

“I shouldn't have expected any different” (Y/N) pushed his hair out of face with a huge smile on his lips as he pulled the duvet over them.

“Damn right.” Geogre replied tiredly.

“I love you” He planted another kiss on his forehead, hugging him tight as he rubbed his boyfriend’s hand on his chest softly.

“Mhm. Me too” He snuggled his face into (Y/N)’s neck, he just stroked George’s hair until he heard soft snores coming from his boyfriend. He sighed happy and exhausted as he slowly fell asleep himself.

[dynyamight]

“you look a little lonely” + twirls into a dance 🧡💚

send me an interaction ask bonus + action

“You look a little lonely.” + twirls into a dance

“Those dress shoes are meant for dancing with someone, you know.” Sero snickers, “Not just to look fresh.”

Bakugou huffs, “Fuck off.”

Standing in front of him, Kaminari continues to pull at his arms, beckoning him to stand. “C’mon! The teachers are ending the dance in an hour, and you haven’t danced! Not even to one song!”

Seated right beside Bakugou, Kirishima chuckles. “Guys, he’s not budging.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Sero laughs, shaking his head, “Man, if you were gonna show up, then why sit around all night, Bakugou?”

“That’s none of your fucking business.” Bakugou sneers.

“It is, if you’re going to be such a wet blanket!” Kaminari grits through his teeth, still straining to pull Bakugou up to his feet.

After a few more attempts, all of which Bakugou simply doesn’t budge, Kirishima finally swats at Kaminari, shoo’ing the two boys away. When both friends refuse, he shakes his head.

“Go back to the dance floor, you two! The girls are missing you!” He laughs at them.

As they walk away from the round table, Bakugou finally looks over to Kirishima. “I don’t remember asking you to stay.” He mutters.

Immediately, Kirishima sweats, rubbing an awkward hand on the back of his neck. “Y-Yeah, dances aren’t really my thing, either. Hate them, actually.”

Bakugou raises a brow, wordlessly.

Kirishima sighs in defeat, looking away from him. “Right, well, I do like to dance. But,” He blushes furiously, as red as his tie, “I-I mean, you heard Sero. We’re supposed to be dancing with others. And, I’m not exactly the best.”

“Who the fuck cares?”

“Me.” Kirishima groans, “That’s who cares.”

Staring back at the dancefloor, improvised in Gym Gamma, Bakugou eyes at the several first years bundled in the crowd. From all departments and classes, he barely could recognize anyone, other than his classmates.

Yet, even then, some of his classmates looked completely different; dressed in formal wear and makeup.

But, there’s one thing he can most certainly recognize.

In the middle of the huge crowd, jumping and spinning into impressive moves, was Ashido. She had the dancefloor shouting and yelling in cheers.

Glancing back at Kirishima, Bakugou wants to laugh at how crestfallen his friend looks.

He doesn’t. Instead, he simply slumps into his seat, crossing his arms. “She wouldn’t mind.”

“Dude, I’m not asking her to dance.”

“I never said that shit.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, “But sure, go ahead.”

Fervently, Kirishima shakes his head, his cheeks blooming red. “Not in front of all those people! Maybe, if it were just the two of us, I wouldn’t mind. But, god, with everyone there, that’s-”

“Red Riot would.”

“...He would?”

“Yeah, he fucking would.” Bakugou snorts, keeping a steady, firm gaze at Kirishima. “Ain’t that manliest shit any guy could do? Pick up the girl he wants, and claim her in front of the world. The Red Riot Unbreakable would do that shit in a heartbeat.”

In his thoughts, Bakugou’s mind calls himself a hypocrite. He squishes the thought away.

Regardless, he feels prideful, as he watches his once timid stricken friend visibly grow confident, like a sunflower standing against the sunrays. Getting up from his seat, Kirishima throws a fist in the air.

“That’s right!” Kirishima exclaims above the music, “Red Riot would get the girl! He always gets the girl.”

Bakugou smirks. “Exactly. So, go fucking knock Pinky off her feet, Shitty Hair.”

When Kirishima leaves, Bakugou slumps back in his seat, crossing his arms. There was still another hour of sitting around, so might as well get comfortable.

Internally, he begins to berate himself; Why the fuck did he show up? This was the biggest mistake in all Bakugou history, and he never makes mistakes. He should have stayed back in the dorms, up in his room, alone, and at peace. Why was he here?

Sero’s right. If he was going to show up, then why sit around all night? Bored out of his mind.

And, just like that, his brain reminds him. A memory of the classroom, with Yaoyorozu asking Midoriya if he is going to attend the school dance. And, from where he was seated, Bakugou had heard Midoriya saying he would.

Midoriya was going to the dance. And, suddenly, Bakugou wanted to go.

“You look a little lonely.”

Bakugou blinks, at first thinking his own thoughts had reverbated louder in his head. But, when he looks up to check his surroundings, he’s instantly met with Midoriya, standing in front of him.

Quickly, right when their eyes meet, Midoriya visibly stiffens. “S-Sorry!” He starts, “I mean, if you have been wanting to be alone, I’ll just, um, leave you be.”

Bakugou looks down at Midoriya’s suit; brown striped coat, yellow under dress shirt, black bow tie, and those red, obnoxious sneakers. An ugly sight to see, quite honestly.

But, when he glances back up to see Midoriya’s wild curls, against his soft face, sprinkled freckles, and shining with those green irises, Bakugou feels his breath get caught in his throat.

He coughs, “Nah. you’re good.” He mumbles.

“Th-That’s reassuring.” Midoriya offers a short laugh, despite everything about his body looking nervous. “So, you are alone, right Kacchan?”

“Yeah, and I guess you can stay, if that’s what you’re planning.”

“Um, I-I wasn’t going to stay here, actually.” Midoriya stutters, his hands gripping at his sides.

Bakugou tilts his head. “The fuck? Then, why make your way over here?”

Instantly, Midoriya’s face floods pink. “Uh, funny that you ask that. I-I, uh, I was just, you know, thinking. Yeah, it was just a thought. That, um, you most likely don’t like to dance. But, possibly, you could. It was possible that, uh, you would like to dance. But, maybe not just with anyone. But, I-I’m not anyone. Well, maybe I am. And, I’m just hoping I’m not just anyone to you. So-”

“Izuku, what the fuck are you even saying?!” Bakugou yells.

“Do you want to dance with me?!” Midoriya shouts back.

“What?!” Bakugou blurts.

It gets worse. “I said, ‘Do you want to dance?!!” Midoriya shouts louder, eyes closed shut tight. “With me?!”

“I heard you the first time, idiot!” Bakugou screams.

“Then, why did you ask?!”

“It was a fucking expression!”

Slapping his hands over his flushed face, Midoriya bends over. “Oh my god, this is humiliating. Forget I ever asked, Kacchan. I promise, I will do anything. Just, forget this happened.” He pleads, muffled by his palms.

Quickly, Bakugou stands up, and grabs Midoriya's arm. Pulling him from behind, he shouts from behind, “Follow me, and don’t you fucking dare double take!”

Frantically searching throughout the gym, Bakugou’s terribly realizing that the whole place has groups spread out all over, without an open area in sight. He tries to pull them in between tables, chairs, and other U.A students. But, alas, he couldn’t find a single-

Midoriya taps on his shoulder. When Bakugou turns around, he sees Midoriya pointing over to the far left.

“Why don’t we move to the corner, in that empty space?” Midoriya offers weakly.

By the closed entrance doors, there was graciously a spot, open enough for just them, and away from the entire crowd at the end of the gym. The relief that spread through Bakugou’s chest was long, and well needed.

Slowly, they make their way over to the area, completely quiet as finally Bakugou turns to face Midoriya. Letting go of Midoriya’s arm, Bakugou is left to awkwardly keep his arms at his sides.

“What do you want me to do now, Deku?”

Unable to look directly at him, Midoriya takes a step closer, staring down at their shoes. “We’re supposed to start dancing.” He whispers.

“No shit, I know that.” Bakugou hisses, “So, hurry up and tell me what the fuck you want to do!”

Midoriya’s face blushes a deeper pink; a color that Bakugou can’t seem to stop staring at.

“I want, um, this hand here.” Midoriya nervously grabs onto Bakugou’s left hand, guiding it up to his shoulder. “And, this hand,” He grabs his right hand, “will go over here.”

It takes Bakugou way too long for his pride to notice that his right hand was never going to be placed anywhere. Instead, it was meant to be clasped in Midoriya’s calloused, warm hand.

Midoriya was waiting for his reaction, and all Bakugou had done in the long seconds that passed was stare at their hands. How fucking embarrasing.

“When are you going to move, Deku?” Bakugou grits out, hoping to play off his slow reaction.

Immediately, he feels a jolt in Midoriya, as he quickly places his other hand on Bakugou’s waist. “R-Right, um, sorry! I just got nervous!”

Bakugou internally hopes Midoriya can’t feel how drenched his hands feel.

The first few steps, Midoriya’s face cringes at each stomp on his toes Bakugou ends up making. He hates how fucking dumb dancing is, making him second guess every move, unlike any battle he has ever faced. The confidence that Bakugou once dripped in was dried out, completely nowhere to be found.

Yet, each time he makes a dreadful, painful error, Midoriya always meets his gaze with a soft smile. “D-Don’t mind.” He reassures each time.

And, dammit, that only makes Bakugou’s heart race faster, banging in his chest.

He doesn’t know when it started to get easier, but he finally notices he isn’t stepping on Midoriya as much as he did before. Instead, they were easily swaying, side by side, rocking in their small little space. The music wasn’t that much of a slow song, but they nevertheless took their time together, just the two of them.

“There’s only a few more songs left.” Midoriya says.

Bakugou huffs, looking back up at Midoriya, instead of the floor. “That fucking sucks.” He admits.

Midoriya softly smiles back, “Yeah.. It really does. I wish I had danced with you from the start.”

“..Me too.”

“Let’s try to make the world spin slower, Kacchan.” Midoriya whispers to him, still smiling. “So, the night can last longer.”

And, with ease, Midoriya lifts his arm over Bakugou’s head, and twirls him in dance.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Four

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 4 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: reference to past sexual assault (very minimal); misogyny/sexism; mention of Infinity War deaths/Endgame deaths; abusive parental relationship; canon violence; heavy drinking; reference to cocaine use

Word Count: 13,900+

~

Tony’s Cabin, 2023, 8:56pm

      “Uh…”

You and Steve stared at the little girl in front of you, bouncing up and down with excitement as she held up one of Tony’s repulsors, the safety on but pointed right at the two of you. Steve instinctively pushed you behind him, the obvious fact being that a blast would most certainly kill you and not the super soldier himself. You were having difficulty holding in your laughter, watching as the girl kept poking at the metal, awaiting its true power. 

“Can I have that, Morgan?” Steve asked, his voice raising ever so slightly to try and seem nicer to the kid. 

“Talk to her with your regular voice, Steve. She’s five, not a toddler.”

“Yeah!”

Now you laughed at Morgan’s declaration of approval, still standing behind Steve with your hands braced on his back. 

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes playfully, “Alright, Morgan. Can I please have that back? It’s not a toy.”

“But daddy left it for me!”

You smiled at her, “Yeah, but he didn’t expect you to use it so early! Wait until you’re like… ten, then you can look through his things!”

“Y/N, ten?” Steve gave you a bewildered grin, eyes bright and laughter restrained. 

“Okay, twelve.”

His shoulders sagged with a heavy laugh. He reached over and took the chance, grabbing Morgan’s wrist softly and ejecting the glove from her small hand. 

“There we go!” you cheered, stepping out from behind Steve and scooping her up in your arms. Morgan started laughing loudly, kicking her legs to try and escape your hold. “Ah, don’t kick me!”

You had offered your time to Pepper whenever she needed it. You didn’t expect that she would call so early asking for a huge favor, her husband’s funeral not even four months ago. But you didn’t hesitate and packed an overnight bag, reassuring her that nothing would explode on your watch. On your way out of the temporary safe house, Steve had caught you just in time. A quick question of your future whereabouts and he was joining you, a tiny twinge of guilt in his chest from not seeing Tony’s daughter in so long. He was one of her godparents after all, just after Happy and Rhodey, beating out the third crowned position from Bruce. 

He had been hurt by that initially, asking why he wasn’t even considered. 

‘Bruce, the first time she comes into your room and stands over your sleeping body to let you know she had a nightmare, you’d scream.’

‘I wouldn’t be angry, just scared!’

‘Okay, after Cap here, you get custody.’

‘Oh, yay. Drafted fourth.’

Steve was happy to go see her on such short notice though, racing back up to his room to gather some overnight supplies as well. But you didn’t think anything of it - it was just a godparent wanting to see his godchild. 

“Ouch, that hurt,” you laughed and placed Morgan down in her bed. “Nighty night time.”

“Daddy said he left things for everyone, not just me.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up with curiosity, a sudden interest to know what his gift was exciting him. He had already given him the shield back... but then Thanos broke it. Maybe, another shield? No, T’Challa had already offered to send him a new one.

“Ooo, that’s interesting! I wonder if he got me that pretty bracelet I saw in that department store window that one time,” you gushed, pulling the blankets over Morgan. You fluffed out her hair, smiled at her, and told her goodnight. 

“Night night!”

Both you and Steve called out from the doorway of her bedroom, “Night night!”

Several minutes had passed before you brought up the prospect of secret gifts again, knowing Steve was just as interested as you were. 

“Want to go find them?”

Steve immediately stood up, clapping his hands together and giddy with excitement. “I won’t tell if you don’t!”

“Deal.”

You searched everywhere - living room, the garage, kitchen cabinets - even racing into the master bedroom, stealthy and secret, shame rising as you carefully picked up items around the room. “This feels like an invasion of privacy.”

Steve chuckled from outside the door, “Hurry up!”

But you found nothing. There was only one more spot to look - his office. You almost didn’t want to intrude any longer, this being his most sacred space, but the mere chance of Tony giving you a gift from the afterlife made you extremely happy. So you and Steve searched, stacking and restacking random papers and pushing away gadgets and books in the bookshelf. Finally, a small opening in the third shelf alerted you of your mission success. 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you cheered, reaching in and pulling boxes and clipped pieces of paper, all different colors and sizes, from the compartment. They were labeled with various names - Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, Clint, Thor, Steve, Nebula, you - and Natasha. 

Steve sucked in his breath, his gasp similar to yours. “He got these before…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, handing Steve his labeled box. It was light blue, a white ribbon delicately wrapped around it, and with a cute little red ribbon with Steve’s name on it. It wasn’t big, but it was more than enough. 

“Open it,” you said. 

Steve shook his head, “Let’s open ours together.”

You agreed to his terms, taking your folder into your hands. It was one of those same art folders you had when you bought some new planners or notebooks. It was black, custom-made it seemed, as it had your name on the front in gold, cursive writing. 

On the count of three, you both opened your presents. 

Steve pulled out two sets of dog tags from the box, the sound of them clinking together reminding him of the times he would hug his fellow soldiers on the battlefield, cheers of victory mixed in with the smell of sweat and dry blood. He read the names on the metal. 

‘Steven G. Rogers

987654320 T42 O

Brooklyn, NY. P.’

‘James B. Barnes. 

32557038 T41 42 O

R. Barnes

Shelbyville, IN. P.’

He had not known they recovered his dog tags, faintly remembering clutching them tightly as he flew the plane into the ice. But SHIELD must have kept them for the museum, and Tony had recovered them. Bucky’s, however, were lost as soon as Bucky fell from that train. They were more rusted than Steve’s, almost as if HYDRA kept them underwater or stored for the majority of Bucky’s sentence. But no matter how Tony had gotten them, he was eternally grateful. 

“Wow,” Steve said, clearing his throat. But you were too caught up in your reading. 

      ‘Target whereabouts discovered mid-May of 2017. Only T. Stark and N. Romanoff approved for mission.

      Transport at 20:00 hours. Target(s) confirmed and exterminated at exactly 0802 Pacific Standard Time.’

You choked on the sob that suddenly broke through, hand instantly reaching up to cup your mouth. Steve put his tags back into the box, shushing you to get you to calm down. “What is it? What’d he get you?”

Four pictures accompanied the short report, each face crossed out with red paint. A tiny laugh escaped and tears of joy started to flow. To say Steve was confused was an understatement. 

“He… he got me justice.”

Steve took the file from you, reading over every word to somehow understand what you meant by justice. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and he looked up at you for more explanation.

You brushed your hair back and rubbed at your cheeks, the smile on your face now straining. Whether it was a sudden change of mind or the closure of your trauma was just that satisfying, you told Steve exactly what Tony and Natasha had done for you. 

“After I joined you guys in New York, Fury sent me on a mission to infiltrate and bring back information about this dude my father was trying to literally destroy. But I had to play both sides  - the good and the bad.”

Steve set the file down, his full attention on you.

“I got the information but for some reason, it wasn’t enough for my father. I had forgotten to get the most vital piece, something he thought I would automatically know,” you scoffed, your smile faltering at the next part of the story. 

“I cost him ten million. And to teach me a lesson, he let these men do whatever they wanted to me. Anything.”

Steve’s breath hitched as he understood what you meant. And it was no longer a mystery why you had been planning to kill him ‘again’ after everyone came back from the snap.

“I returned to the compound in such bad shape. I only told Natasha. She cleaned me up, she took me to med-bay in the middle of the night, she brought me breakfast in bed,” you chuckled at the memory, hand reaching out to hold Steve’s. 

“And Tony’s gift was murdering the men that hurt me.”

Steve let a few tears slip himself, his hand gripping yours tighter. “Y/N, if I would have known-”

“Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t know, though. I thought only Natasha knew. She promised me she would take care of it. I just didn’t think she would actually find them.”

“I think we know that Natasha could find literally anything and anyone,” Steve said. 

You agreed with his statement, a smile returning to your face. 

You jumped from your sitting position and went back to retrieve Natasha’s gift. “Hey, should we?”

Steve eyed the small, black box in your hand. He sighed as he walked over to you, eyes returning to the box. 

“It was meant for her.”

You frowned, “Yeah, and I’ll ask Pepper if we can give these to everyone else.”

You paused and shook the box near your ear. It felt heavy in your hand, and the contents gave a little jingle. 

“But this one was for Nat. I think she’d want us to at least see it.”

Steve chuckled and just nodded, awaiting the reveal. You pulled the ribbon and opened the box, surprised that Tony had given her a piece of jewelry. “Oh.”

Steve took the bracelet from the box, oblivious that the movement would unlock the charms from their heavy chests. In a matter of seconds, charms of similar size but different designs dropped to encircle the silver band. You inspected them in Steve’s hand - a red/white/and blue shield, Mjollnir, a pair of wings, two arc reactors, a singular arrow, a silver arm, a spider, an emerald heart, the letters ‘W’ and ‘V’ intertwined, a black cat, an ant - and your symbol, an intricately carved silver charm no bigger than your thumbnail, of your face. Tony knew no specific object or symbol was tied with your Avengers status, no one had ever given you one, but this was perfect. 

“Wow,” Steve whispered, examining each charm closely with a lazy smile on his face. 

“We were her family. This was an ode to that.”

“What do we do with it?” Steve asked.

You just shrugged, “Frame it? It would feel wrong just taking it for myself.”

Steve agreed. Later that night when Pepper returned home, you showed her what Morgan led you to. She let you keep your gifts and take the others, absolutely loving the idea of framing Natasha’s bracelet in the new compound being built. 

Present Day, 2025, 8:10 am

     The bright light from the open windows hadn’t hit you as suddenly as the random throw pillow that connected to your face, startling you with a quick gasp and causing you to choke on your spit. You snapped up, belly down and hair wild, eyes still half-lidded as you searched for the aggravator. And he stood there with a stupid grin on his face, already dressed in his stupid old man clothes, and stupid blond hair perfectly pushed back. 

“What the fuck was that for?” you tried to yell, voice cracking at the end and just the slightest hint of drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. 

“I ordered room service. Plus, we have to leave in an hour.”

You grabbed as many pillows as your one free hand could hold, the other still tucked into the pillowcase below your head. You flung them wildly, none actually hitting the super soldier directly. His chuckle pulled a deep groan from you, and no longer wanting to look like a fool, you stumbled out of bed and pushed passed him roughly. 

“You could have woken me up the same time you got up.”

“But you looked so peaceful.”

His sarcasm was not helping your souring mood. Steve headed over to the monitors to turn them on, already setting up the morning video chat with Bucky and Sam. “Do you always sleep like a mounted spider?”

You flicked him off, “Leave me alone so I can take my morning piss in peace!”

You slammed the door and made your way to the toilet. Now, you were no morning person. But it was simple enough for you to crawl out of bed with only minimal protest when your awakening was a peaceful one. Having a pillow thrown at your head while mid-dream was practically excruciating and no one, not even the grandest morning person in the world, could possibly awake happy from that. And to top it all off, you couldn’t even remember what you were dreaming of. Just another thing to blame Steve for. 

After you had done your morning routine and slipped into a really comfy outfit, the breakfast finally arrived. You muttered a quiet thanks to Steve for ordering your favorites and damn him for knowing you preferred waffles over pancakes and a variety of creamers to choose from, and quickly filled Bucky and Sam in on what the plan for the day was. 

You had been on missions with Steve before, but no matter how many times you regrouped in the mornings, you had never actually seen him wake up. After your rude awakening, you wondered at what point during sunrise he opened his eyes - ‘cause you’ll be standing over him with a pillow of your own. 

“Torres has the air footage scheduled for around five today, then he’ll link you to the camera for the remainder of the mission,” Sam clarified. 

“Is it possible to link earlier?” Steve asked. 

“Not unless you can get the Wi-Fi password of the estate.”

You chuckled, still funneling mouthfuls of waffle into your mouth. “So, we can hack the Pentagon whenever we feel like it, but we can’t hack into my father’s estate without the Wi-Fi password?”

Sam cleared his throat, “You are so lucky this is a secure line.”

“Wait until she finishes her breakfast and her head will be screwed back on straight,” Steve joked, taking a long sip from his tea. 

Almost immediately, your phone dinged with a new message. You angled your phone away from Steve but your smirk was enough to alert him of a side conversation happening under his nose. 

Bucky: Ouch, I wouldn’t mind if you hit him upside the head.

Y/N: he threw a pillow at me to wake me up :(

Bucky: hit him

Y/N: bet

“Stop talking about me over the phone.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve grumbled, the rough sound catching Sam’s attention as well. His eyes flashed back and forth between the two of you - Steve desperately trying to catch a quick glance at your messages, and you leaning away from him with thumbs moving at a rapid pace. 

“Y/N, how you feeling?”

You put your phone down and pretended to not notice how Steve was trying to get a glimpse of your screen. 

“A little queasy, in all honesty.”

A myriad of emotions were present and coiling in your body, each trying to sprout and bloom and gain their five seconds of fame. And for the past several years, it was easy to downplay their true power. Because the power they held wasn’t one of distressing strength, but rather one that tip-toed to the front of your anxiety driven worries. It planted itself there, up front, but ever so silent. For it to finally meet its match, to possibly be freed of such a coil - well, you were more worried about not succeeding in its erasure than its final blooming. 

“We’ve come up with a system to make sure we both don’t go overboard or to tell the other that we’re alright,” Steve said, eyes on the monitor but hands loading bullets into your trusty handguns. 

“Alright, that’s good,” Bucky spoke, finally. He typed away on his keyboard, “Give us a word we all use in case we need back-up immediately.”

“Mm, you should ask Steve. He loves his safe words.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Something Avengers related? Or something no one would ever say?”

“Pick anything you want, just don’t let it be awkward to repeat out loud,” Sam joked. 

Steve pondered for a few seconds before he settled on his chosen word, a hint of a smile forming. “Widow.”

You nodded, “That’s sweet. She’d like us using her alias for a dirty little safe word.”

You huffed suddenly, shoulder colliding with the carpet, the realization that Steve pushed you from your chair causing you to stare at him with your mouth hanging open. “Hey!”

“Steve, every single day I accept your fate from her murderous hands,” Bucky grumbled, Sam’s loud laugh causing the speaker to give a quick halt of static. 

“She’s okay- hey!”

You flew across your chair and onto him, lunging your body as your main weapon in taking him down. You both tumbled to the floor, the sofa chair you collided with scraping along and pushing the coffee table with it. A lamp shattered on the floor right when you wrapped your arm around Steve’s neck and hooked your legs from underneath him and around his waist, his back to your front, both his arms coming up to tug yours out of reflex. 

“Yield, you little shit,” you grunted, the grip of your arm remaining loose on purpose but your legs tight, heels now digging into his slim waist. 

Steve groaned, both from your pointy heels and the sudden impact his body made with the ground. “I’m letting you win.”

“You seriously got a mouth on you.”

You let him go anyway, choosing to save your strength for the mission and not waste it on a petty little fight. Besides, you could always smother him with a pillow in his sleep. 

“You two done?”

Both you and Steve stumbled getting up, faces back in your teammate’s view as you smoothed down your clothing and wiped at your foreheads.

“Now that that’s over,” Sam continued, clearing his throat. “The only task for today is to get a feel of the place, establish a legit backstory providing you some leverage, and to swipe those ID’s.”

“Got it,” you acknowledged, standing again to begin hooking your weapons in discreet locations in your clothing. 

“And we’re not responsible for that broken lamp so it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

     California really wasn’t like any other state. There was a vast difference from Northern and Southern, the difference being the amount of green fields visible. In Southern California, the mountains and desert areas took up most of the landscape, with an industrial complex here, a growing city there, and then nothing for a good ten miles. Since most of the landscape was below sea level, the atmosphere was almost always dry, modest dust storms forming only to quickly pass a freeway and disintegrate once it found the other side. It was more urban, more lively with people. But Northern California, even if it experienced the same weather patterns as the south, was mostly humid during the winter season. The mountains here were covered in lively agriculture, livestock roamed freely in the gated areas near the freeways, and the overall environment provided a rural look. 

 And the differences just stood out to you, your excitement for the livestock starting to annoy Steve as you kept pointing out every cow you drove past. He threatened to stop the car and dare you to tip one. 

“So, how did we meet?”

Steve chuckled, “We’re coworkers, Y/N. Thought that question was obvious.”

You whined, “Steve, we have to put some drama into it! How about we say we met during one of Tony’s parties after Fury assigned you to this?” 

“And what? I asked you to dance?”

You leaned over your seat and poked his arm, teasing him. “Would you have asked me to dance?”

Steve shrugged, “I mean, sure.” 

He glanced at you and then back to the road. “Can’t we just be honest? I like the way we met.”

 You pouted, “The way we met is a matter of national security.”

   “You brought that thing back to an unguarded planet?” Loki seethed, his voice still a whisper as he followed Thor through the hallways of Avengers Tower. A tower he had been prisoner of for a few weeks now, but would soon be released from once Thor decided to return home. Besides, it had been more than a year since his unfortunate attack and after thousands of apologies, brainwashing excuses (which were true!), and quite a few long labor hours equivalent to Midgardian community service, his leash was extended somewhat. 

“How am I the more level-headed one right now?”

Thor grumbled in response, now on his hands and knees as he searched for the tiny animal that had already eaten its way through the plush of the interior walls. “It couldn’t have gotten far. And how was I supposed to know the oxygen levels here would cause it to go crazy?”

“You couldn’t. In fact, I don’t know why it’s here in the first place!”

“Keep screaming, Loki. I bet that would make it come to us quicker!”

Loki was about to come up with another quick quip, but was interrupted by a quiet mumble down the hall. 

“Oh?”

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you stared at the two brothers - one sweeping the floor on all fours and the other ducked down to scream into his brother’s ear. “Whatcha looking for?”

“Now, don’t be alarmed, Agent. But I may have misplaced my dog.”

“Dog?” Loki tilted his head, hands now cupping the side of his head in disbelief. 

Your eyebrows shot up from his reaction, “Not dog?”

“It’s… an animal from Asgard.”

“Okay, what does it look like?” you asked, now more interested than ever. 

Thor cleared his throat and rose to his feet slowly, “Like a dragon.”

You stepped back, almost tripping over your left foot. An involuntary laugh escaped from your lips and you brought a hand up to try and stifle it. “You brought a dragon into the tower?”

“He brought a dragon back to Midgard,” Loki clarified as he walked over to the wall and pressed his ear against it. 

“Oh, yeah. That’s much worse,” you agreed. “Fury’s gonna shove his foot so far up your ass-”

“Yes, yes. I know what awaits me. Now, help us find it!” Thor begged. 

This wasn’t how you expected to spend your first day as an Avenger. After all the training and promoting, the paperwork and oaths, you thought you would have a pretty chill afternoon. Arrive at the conference room, get the name badge and a rundown of your new field suit, and meet the rest of the team. Freshly nineteen and energetic as ever, you accepted this as a test. Find the dragon, make a good impression. 

It only took a few more minutes before you three stumbled on an otherwise empty hallway, staring down the colorful creature as it licked one of its paws. 

Your eyes widened, “It looks like an alebrije.”

“You have these creatures on your planet?” Loki asked, surprise written over his face. 

“Nope, alebrije’s aren’t real. They’re fantasy.”

“Nevermind that, help me catch it!”

Loki began shushing his brother, hands swatting his massive shoulders in the process. You leaned down to the floor and tapped it with your fingernails, hoping the nice gesture would cause the creature to meet you halfway. 

“Hey, buddy,” you cooed. “Can you come here please?”

The creature raised its head, colorful eyes on full display. Similar to rings of fire, but face like a fox, and fur as soft as silk. It titled its head, interested for only a second, before it kicked back and rushed toward the three of you at full speed. 

“Oh, shit-!”

As he was the closest, Loki pushed Thor to the wall and lifted you from the ground. But before he could throw you out of the way too, the creature leaped. Loki shielded you with his body, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up as the creature kicked his back and sent the two of you flying through wall after wall. Loki was taking the force of it all, his chest angled in a way to protect your head. It was about ten walls you two flew through before you landed in what seemed like conference room B… or C… or A. Loki rolled you over and groaned in pain. You landed on your back, bright lights blinding you as you tried to adjust. Then a figure came into view as your blurry vision cleared. 

You blinked rapidly and stared up at your new Captain. You smiled, a bit delirious, and raised your hand up for a handshake. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, new recruit!”

Steve just stared, eyebrows scrunched, an expression resembling a scowl and bewilderment painted on his face. He took your hand in his and shook it. 

“Forgive us, Captain,” Loki spoke, coughing as he turned over. “But you might want to get that shield of yours.”

    “When did we become a couple?” you continued once you agreed on the ‘party meet-and-greet’ as your previous answer. 

Now, this was a question Steve was wondering about since before you mentioned the necessity of such answers. Although he didn’t fantasize about being your significant other, he did wonder what possible event could jumpstart it. If anything, and he would take this to the grave, he assumed a line would be crossed during a particularly tempting mission. Bucky had admitted to him that on one mission, and Steve promised to take this to the grave as well, Bucky had to kiss Wanda to keep their cover. The feelings subsided soon after the mission was over, but Bucky confessed to real feelings developing. So if Steve had to bet, a particularly tempting mission. 

“When we were searching for Bucky?”

You nodded, “That works. We can say the fall of SHIELD basically led to us to realize how weak the system was and how we could easily manipulate it.”

The road veered off to the side, now dirt and unevenly layered. You checked the directions Torres gave you just to make sure. 

“And when is my birthday?”

You didn’t expect Steve to answer so quickly, and to get it right. Perhaps he looked over your file and remembered, because you were certain only your little friend group knew it. It was Bucky, it had to be him, the little shit, he told- 

“Surprised?”

“A little. How do you know it?”

“Nat. Who do you think sends you those chocolates every year?”

You were overjoyed, really. “Wha-? Natasha said she did it.”

Steve smirked, “She covered for me.”

“Why?”

“Because for five years after the snap, you and Nat did nothing for yourselves and did everything for everyone else.” He had been witness to the two of you pulling all-nighters, washing the sheets of your fallen teammates as if they were going to return that weekend, celebrating their birthdays in secret with a small candle and a prayer. Moving from the compound and into his own apartment was hard enough, but seeing his remaining teammates wallow in cursed self-determination was worse. So, he asked Nat about your birthday to send you chocolates and a lovely handwritten note, careful to write in a font different from his natural one, and he would fold tiny paper airplanes and leave them around the compound where only Nat could find them, providing her a sense of playfulness in her busy day. Little joys to make up for such an impact.  

“If it makes you feel better, I sent gifts to Nat and Bruce, too.”

But because Bruce had no forwarding address at the time, Steve settled for quick text messages here and there. 

“And here I was thinking I was special.”

Steve laughed at your statement. He reached into the middle compartment to grab the mics you would be wearing. “By the way, make sure to hide this behind your neck. My mic will blend in as a button.”

You inspected the flat, button-like mic, awed by how intricate their design was. “They connected to Bucky’s?”

Steve clipped his onto his shoulder, the camouflage effect throwing you off. Yup, you loved science. “Yeah, they record everything and immediately send it back already transcribed.”

You unfolded the sun visor and watched how the mic picked up the color of your skin and blended naturally. “Remind me to send T’Challa and Shuri a gift basket.”

“And more.”

The estate was exactly how you remembered it. Modern and simple all at once, a brown exterior to easily blend into the surrounding forest, and massive front gate that only opened with a specific code. You leaned out the window and typed it in. There was no speaker this time, probably evidence of newly installed cameras. 

“It’s beautiful,” Steve muttered, pulling into the long driveway and following the brick road. 

It truly was. Even from where you were, you could see into the mansion as the walls were all practically made from glass. The walls in the back were normal, however, as that’s where most of the business was conducted. There were no swing doors, only large and heavy double doors made from cooled lava rock. And even though your father was a very organized man, the house was littered in trinkets of all origins: professionally stuffed exotic animals, roman and oriental statues, porcelain eggs, multiple pianos, and first editions of some of the most popular books in the world. There wasn’t any set theme for this house, but it was screaming ‘money’. 

Steve parked the car away from the others, careful to leave enough room around it to ensure an easy escape if needed.

“Remember what I said - play the part. Leave the smart mouth to me, they know me. It’s what they’ve come to expect.”

Steve clicked his seatbelt and sighed heavily, “I apologize in advance.”

You gave him a small smile, “Nothing to apologize for, Steve. Like I said, this is a mission. Don’t stress about it.”

He shook his head, “Still.”

The sincere look in his eyes sent a tingle down your arms. You cleared your throat, “I feel dirty saying this, but know your place. You may be a Captain but you’re not manning this boat.”

For some reason Steve felt that he truly needed to apologize in advance. For the past several years, it wasn’t entirely real to him. He had not been directly involved. But now that he was here, parked and staring at you - the one person who had a first hand account of the horrors inside - he needed to make sure you understood he would never actually hurt you, or you him. “I trust you.”

You removed your seatbelt and opened the door, “I trust you, too.”

It was windy today, the ruffles from the trees almost disguising the labor coming from the back. You assumed they were still building the reception area. Steve jogged over to your side and hooked your arm in his, his body tenser than yours. Someone opened the heavy doors, immediately swallowing the oxygen for miles with merely their presence. You couldn’t help yourself from a small grimace, lips spreading into a straight line as you forced any other expression besides hatred. 

Seda, standing at barely six foot and a smug look plastered on his aging face that worried even Steve. This was the man that had shot you when he was on the run - the man that would most likely do it again. 

Seda quickly stepped down the stairs, “Y/N, so lovely to see you again!”

You let go of Steve to walk ahead, arms extended to match the idea of a grand entrance. “Really? Because the last time we saw each other, you shot me in the gut.”

Steve swore he saw Seda’s upper lip twitch. “You hold too many grudges. I was just following your father’s orders.”

You rolled your eyes and finally came to a stop in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. “Obviously.”

“And I’ve finally got the chance to meet Captain America! You’re much larger in person.”

No matter the acting skills one must obtain for this line of work, it was still obvious Seda was speaking through clenched teeth. He scanned Steve up and down, somewhat intimidated.

It was such a sudden shift, one you obviously knew was coming, but the deepness of Steve’s voice still caused unnatural goosebumps to rise. “I get that a lot. Helps in this business, though.”

Seda let out a low chuckle, “I would think so.” He turned and instructed the two men who had followed him out to reopen the heavy doors.  “This way.”

Steve tried not to gawk at the amount of decorations and old-timey artifacts he swore should belong in a museum. So much furniture, so much history that shouldn’t mix but somehow worked. And was that… was that a stuffed polar bear?

“So, how you doing, Seda? Besides the usual,” you asked, hooking your arm back with Steve’s. 

Seda walked with his head held high, only tilting his head downward when giving a silent greeting to those who walked by. You tried to memorize faces or see if there was anyone you recognized. But your father barely kept the same team for more than a few years. They either left voluntarily and luckily, or were simply never heard from again. 

“Excited for the wedding. Jackeline has been running around nonstop on her finishing touches,” Seda responded. 

You huffed out a laugh, “I bet she has. She used to have a scrapbook that outlined six different wedding themes.”

“And I haven’t seen the end of it.”

Only a few more twists and turns and you were finally near the familiar hallway that housed your father’s darkest work. The interior design was purposeful, no windows and no cameras. Steve unhooked your arms, opting for a more formal presentation between the two of you. Seda was difficult to please, but your father was near impossible. Better to not have his hands all over his daughter during their first meeting.  

“Hey, what’s the wi-fi password? I’m expecting a few important emails today,” you asked before Seda opened your father’s office door. Steve had to restrain himself from blessing the ground you walked on. Bless you for remembering. 

“‘Guadalajara’.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sending the password to Torres as quickly as you could. 

It wasn’t the grand entrance you expected, truly, but you didn’t expect to see your father simply chilling behind his desk signing a few papers. He usually paced, was in a random meeting, or on the phone. Here, he was just… strangely normal. 

He looked up, eyes locking with yours for the first time in seven years. “Now, I haven’t seen you since your little weekend trip to Jalisco!”

Yeah, since you had me shot. 

Stepping into the office, the smell of cigars was heavy. Musty and daring, enveloping you like the times it did before. But now you had Steve - sweet Steve whose warmth you could feel behind you. 

You shrugged, “I’m not traveling much outside the country these days. Too much shit going on.”

Your father stood up and let out a dry laugh, “No lie about that. Seda was telling me how loose the borders were when half the world croaked.”

“Emigration was common, yup.”

He smiled at you, walking over and placing his hands on your shoulders. You did your best not to tense your muscles. “I wish I could have been there. You guys made millions those five years.”

You swore you heard Seda scoff near the corner of the room. 

“It’s about time we met! Ernesto Vega,” your father introduced himself, holding out his hand for Steve to take. 

It was instant, the change, and you found yourself pushed softly to the side as Steve stepped forward. “Steve Rogers, sir. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Your father was practically beaming, “Y/N isn’t giving you a hard time with all the business, aye?”

Steve chuckled, “None at all. She steps back when asked.”

Okay, maybe he was a better actor than you took him for. 

“I can’t believe you even have to ask,” your father hummed, glancing back at you with a disapproving look. 

Steve shrugged, “More like ‘ordered.’”

It was scary how easily Steve was making your father laugh. “So, she listens to you? I wonder what that’s like.”

You interrupted, scoffing quietly. “I have literally done everything you’ve asked.”

And without glancing at you this time, your father quipped. “Everything but learn how not to complain.” 

You rolled your eyes and met Seda’s stare. He always enjoyed the torment your father caused you. When he ordered you do something sketchy and you objected, Seda always had a front row seat to the slaps and harsh language spit in your face. He had a way of bringing up the abuse in almost every conversation he held with you - like it gave him some form of sick satisfaction.

“Regardless of my daughter’s inability to listen, I was still surprised when she named you as her partner.”

“The whole hero game was getting boring. I needed excitement.”

Your father agreed, “Don’t we all?” 

Before he continued, he squinted his eyes at Steve and scanned him once more. Almost like he was double checking his initial choice. 

“And you’re fine with breaking the laws of the country you’re the mascot for?”

“America has changed over the last hundred years. Trust me, I should know.”

Steve was answering exactly how you two practiced. You couldn’t help the small tinge of pride that it ignited. 

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re older than me. I mean, look at you.”

“The positives and negatives of being America’s science experiment, sir.”

“But here you are now. Working for me.” Your father stepped back to sit behind his desk again. “I’m very happy.”

“Likewise, sir,” Steve replied as he shuffled closer to you, trying to not seem so suspicious. Last time Steve wanted to crawl out of his own skin was when he was barely being introduced to the new world. Times Square really was a concrete jungle, his and Bucky’s old apartment building had been demolished in the fifties, and inflation… don’t get him started on inflation.  

“I’d like you to meet my two friends.” Your eyes widened. No, you weren’t supposed to meet them today. You hadn’t planned for this. 

“Friends and competition alike.”

You tried to keep your voice steady, “Shouldn’t you warm them up before you invite them in? They’re gonna take one look at Steve and freak.”

Your father motioned for Seda to open the door. “Then prepare your speech quickly.”

Before you or Steve could come up with a game plan, your father called out to the new arrivals. “Amigos! Me gustaría presentarles al hombre detrás de toda mi operación.”

The men summoned were completely different from the last time you saw them. Given you saw Ramirez long before the snap and White even before then, change was destined. Ramirez was skinnier, no more protruding stomach, wrinkles almost nonexistent and eyes lively. He hadn’t disappeared with half the world, but one of his daughters did - so getting her back definitely helped his overall health. White, on the other hand, aged overnight. His hair was now gray, eyelids sullen but eyes wide, and his nose was tilted awkwardly, like a surgery to counteract the powder he sniffed. You couldn’t remember if he was dusted or not.

“Tienes que agradecer a mi hija por esto.”

He did not just give you credit for this. 

“No fucking way?” Ramirez spoke, almost like he was out of breath. 

Curse your father for not preparing these two. You quickly reminded yourself where your gun was hidden in case things got out of hand. 

White stepped forward, circling you and Steve as if you were displayed in a museum. “Do we each get our own Avenger?”

“Maybe in the future. But this one’s mine.”

“I’m an Avenger, too. But okay,” you mumbled, offended by his singular statement. Steve’s lip twitched slightly but the look he threw at you let you know he wanted to smile. 

“¿Cómo lo hiciste?”

“Ya sabes cómo es... La gente simplemente sigue mi ejemplo.”

You decided to speak, anything to get White to stop inspecting you like some ancient artifact. “Steve green lights the routes and passages. He’s been a main player all along.”

White squinted at you, “And how long has this been going on?”

“For almost ten years,” you answered. 

White shook his head in surprise, eyes wider than you thought possible. His accent was more slurred than you remembered. “And you’re telling us now because-?”

Your father cut in, “The world is still in ruins. If we combine our forces like we discussed before that unfortunate disappearing act, we’ll be unstoppable.”

This seemed to catch Ramirez off guard, as if he truly didn’t remember the conversation your father brought up. You shoveled his reaction deep into your memory. Maribel would have to look into it.

Still, Ramirez played along. “And you’ll be loyal to us, too? Not just Ernesto?”

Steve nodded, his posture straightening. “I would.”

Now, the two new arrivals looked at you. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t look at me. I do what he says,” you admitted, nodding your head toward Steve.

They seemed to accept that answer. 

“And he’s here to help us move the shipment this Saturday?” White asked.

“That’s the plan,” your father confirmed.

It was time for Ramirez to circle you both. But he did so more casually and without the intent of kicking you in the shins, it seemed. He went to sit on the couch nearest the door, away from the crowd. You could sense Steve tensing up, so you turned your body slightly to the side so you could see Ramirez through your peripheral.

“How do we know we can trust him? What those stars and stripes have to do with us?”

“You hear that Captain?” your father asked, leaning back in his chair with that twisted smile that always made your stomach drop. “Time to prove your loyalty.”

“Are you seriously going to haze him?” you spoke, a hint of a teasing tone on your words. It was time to liven up the conversation, for both your sake, or else your father was sure to go overboard. His hand… where’s Steve’s hand?

“Does she speak for you?”

Steve stepped forward, “No, she doesn’t.”

“Prove it.”

You should really punch your chest to get your heart beating again. Was he going to make Steve try the product? Record something as blackmail? Kill someone?

“Wha-” you began, but were immediately silenced as an arm wrapped around your neck and held you in place. The coldness of the gun’s muzzle tickled just below your chin, still and steady, but nonetheless terrifying. Your father had held you in this position before - hell, most of his men did when asked. But it wasn’t any of your father’s men threatening you under orders - it was Steve.  

“Obviously, I’m not going to kill her. You need her for this whole operation to work. But a little roughing up never did any bad.”

He removed his other arm but kept the muzzle under your chin, grabbing both your arms skillfully and pinning them behind your back. 

You had never seen your father so pleased. “Why are you dating my daughter?”

Steve chuckled and clicked the safety. No, no. 

You scrambled to open your right palm and squeeze what you could reach. Steve seemed to understand right away, and he loosened his grip and placed his other shaking hand into yours. You squeezed tightly. 

“Now, that’s like asking a man why he breathes air.”

No matter the position he currently had you in, you still praised his acting skills. 

“Perhaps. But I know my daughter. Why you?”

Steve kept a firm grip. “Luck?”

“It seems so. Let her go.”

He released you immediately, clicking the safety back on. Seda was in front of him before Steve could place it back on his person, grabbing the gun and emptying it. Seven rounds tumbled and scattered to the floor. This seemed to please both men, as Steve wasn’t presenting himself with an empty threat. He really could have killed you. 

“I’m assuming Y/N has told you stories about me. About my men.”

The floor beneath you was uneven, it seemed, but once your mind stopped playing tricks on you, you settled. You shot a quick glance to Ramirez, his eyes closed and hands clasped in his lap. He seemed distant.

“Only the ones worth repeating, sir.”

“Oh? And which are those?”

“Orders and the like.”

“So, you don’t know much? Nothing interesting? Nothing that could make me seem like the bad guy?”

The room grew hot, whether it was the natural air or the bubbling anger boiling in your stomach.

“Like I said, sir. I ask her what I want to know and she tells me. Other than that, it’s your call.”

The room fell silent as they debated their other questions. 

“How much do the other Avengers know?”

You were about to respond when Steve spoke instead. “Oblivious. I’m still the stars and stripes for them.”

White scoffed, “Those symbols don’t mean shit in this new world. Ridiculous of them to still assume you’re the same man.”

Steve’s jaw tensed, “Exactly right, sir.”

This seemed to be enough for your father. He stood from his chair, walking over to shake Steve’s hand again. So righteous and personal, almost like he hadn’t just ordered the assassination of an old friend a few days ago. “I like you, Captain. You’ve boosted my business, you’ve handled my daughter, you’ve made me a lot of money.” 

He looked away from Steve to look at you now, laying eyes upon a person he hadn’t bothered to reunite with in person. You had fought so hard not to be in the same room ever again, but now you were. A small little office, holding whatever air you were forced to share, on a mission that could change everything. You hated him, absolutely detested the ground he stood on, blamed him for the fallout, the change, the hurt. 

“Seda, you trust him?”

Seda opened the office door and started ushering the other two men out. “I’m getting there.”

Your father laughed, “Always so cynical.” 

Ramirez stood from his seat behind you, already gunning to make a good impression on your Captain. He shook Steve’s hand, “Until next time.”

“Sir,” Steve returned the handshake. Ramirez only adjusted slightly, and held his hand out to you. You looked down at it, momentarily stunned from any attention, but shook it in the way you were taught. Firm, short, and ready for business. You grinned at him and he returned the same emotion. 

“Two Avengers. Wow,” he mumbled, and tilted his head in a farewell. You watched him go, a silly smile on your face. 

You went to take your leave, cautious of being left alone with your father. But as fate had it, he stopped you from leaving so simply. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” 

You turned on your heel, lips plastered in a straight line. You raised your eyebrows at him, already annoyed from the request he most certainly had, no doubt. “Meet me in a few minutes. Alone.”

You forced yourself to nod, turning quickly and leaving the room. You shuffled down the hallway, Steve hot on your trail and reaching for your hand. 

“Hey, hey. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

He tugged you back to him, but you pushed him into the corner room you were originally heading for. You shut the door softly, and allowed Steve to grip your hands in his. 

“Well, you gotta. Link our mics. You’ll hear everything.”

“Safe word?”

You chuckled lowly but retracted the teasing attitude when you saw genuine worry written on Steve’s face. “Widow, Steve.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you back there. I couldn’t think of anything else to do-”

You shushed him, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I fuck with you all the time but I would never take it that far.”

Where was this coming from? Steve looked like he was about to start hyperventilating. “I’m good. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine, see?” you placed his hand on your chest, making sure he could feel your heartbeat. “I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m good.”

Steve removed his hand and placed it over his own chest, rubbing slightly. “I’ll be right outside when he talks to you.”

“I know you’ll be. Now, stand guard, whistle low to alert me.”

“This the room? You know the code?”

It was a simple office as well, but resembled more of a library than a workspace. It was dimly lit, cluttered, smelled of the wooden cabinets and the dust collecting on the books, and lacked any windows as well. You nodded to confirm Steve’s question, heading over to the farthest bookshelf and pushed it away from the wall. The loose dust swooped from the wood surface and into the air instantly, and you had to pause to sneeze down your shirt. 

You wiped your nose, “I’m third in command. My father may have some things hidden but I have to know the codes to shit like this.”

Steve leaned his ear on the door gently, “You’re clear.”

You gave him a thumbs up and fiddled with the outside of the safe. It was built into the wall, black in color and definitely made way before you were born. It was quite rusted, the gold numbers on the lock almost faded. 

“Let’s hope he didn’t change it.” You turned the dial - seven, thirty-three, eighteen - and it clicked on the first try. “Bingo.”

“Did you have a backup plan if that didn’t work?”

You snorted quietly, “Smash?”

Steve rolled his eyes and pressed his ear back on the door. 

Everything inside had been recently rearranged. You figured your father used some of these ID’s when entering the country for the wedding and left them stacked on one another for the quick heist on Saturday.  “We’re in luck! Both my father’s and Seda’s ID’s are here, along with-”

You cooed, taking out your phone and opening the camera app. You snapped multiple pictures, with and without flash. “Stacks and stacks of cash.”

You pulled your purse in front of you and pulled out your wallet to make room, shoving it into your back pocket instead. 

“Help me put this in my purse.”

Steve left his post to help you shovel the ID’s discreetly into every pocket your purse provided, shoving things into corners so nothing protruded. 

“Damn, we gotta leave the money,” you pouted. 

Steve chuckled, “What a horrible thing.”

A sudden, boisterous laugh right outside the door caused you to rip your arm away from the safe, thankfully pulling the last of the ID’s with you. You pushed them into your purse, zipping it up. Steve reacted quickly as well, shutting the safe and rotating the dial, pushing the bookcase back into its original position. 

“It’s Ramirez and White,” Steve whispered, looking around the room for any help. “What do we do?”

“Ramirez…” you blinked, eyes wandering around the room as well. Think, think, think. The doorknob jiggled. “Trust me.”

You ripped your purse off and threw it to the nearest couch. You hooked your arms around Steve’s neck and jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Oh my-”

In any other scenario, the whimper that left your throat would have been caused by a surge of ecstasy. But you were frightened of being caught, the whimper a blatant signal to just follow your lead. 

“Slam me into the wall, Captain.”

The door flew open just as Steve did as he was told. 

“And I told him it was ridiculous - oh my…”

You lifted your head from Steve’s neck, wide eyes to accompany your surprised state. “Oh! I thought we locked the door!”

Ramirez covered his eyes bashfully, turning around and staring at the wall. “Don’t mind us, we were just looking for loose smokes.”

Opposite to his intruding partner, White laughed at the scene before him. He dipped low, hands on his knees as he joked. “Didn’t think Captain America had it in him! Been a stiff ever since the ice, huh mate?”

You could feel Steve tense against you, and he froze entirely. You drew your hand up to play with the strands of his hair, putting on your best flirty tone possible. “Oh, trust me. He’s pretty stiff right now.”

Steve seemed to calm under your touch, so he turned his head over his shoulder and gave an embarrassed smile of his own. 

“Excuse us again, Y/N. You two enjoy your time,” Ramirez apologized, pulling at White’s jacket to guide him out of the room. Once you heard the click of the door, you jumped from Steve’s grasp and immediately began patting his back. 

“I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckled, his blush rising from his shoulders to his cheeks. “It’s okay, you saved us.”

You inspected him closely, a little embarrassed with yourself. It was a bold move, but one that needed to be done. You stood in silence for a few more seconds, each of you adjusting to such a sudden change of breathing pattern. 

You shut your eyes and groaned silently, “I need to speak with him.”

“Can I wait outside the door?”

You picked up your purse and swung it around your torso, “No, you need to wait in the car. Or smother Ramirez and White, your call.”

The lines on Steve’s forehead deepened, “Y/N, I can’t leave you alone with him.”

You wanted to argue further because Steve really over exaggerated. You fought a whole army of aliens, robots, and even the infamous Winter Soldier. Sure, you lost the battle with Thanos on the first try, you lost a teammate with Ultron, and gained a collapsed lung from Bucky’s insane roundhouse kick, but you were positive you could take your father. “You’re gonna have to. I’ve been alone with him before.”

Steve placed his hands on his hips and gave you a blank stare. “He shot you last time.”

“Ehh, Seda did.”

“Y/N.”

You laughed softly, “Then wait in the living room.”

“The shield’s in the car. If you need help, I may not have enough time-”

Steve and that goddamn shield. The guy was acting like he wasn’t a super soldier. You were annoyed. Annoyed with a pinch of salt?

“You whip that shield out to save me and I swear to god-”

“Okay, okay. I’ll link our mics.”

He fumbled around on his phone for a few seconds before you heard the softest beep from below your ear. 

     The last time you had entered that room alone, you left with a bullet lodged deep in your abdomen and with the threat of having it done again. Stumbling and crashing into the walls and random trinkets, leaving your blood stains on anything you used to steady yourself. This time would be different - it had to be. Your father wouldn’t shoot you with the Captain America waiting in the other room. Then again, your father always seemed to top himself each time you were forced to interact personally. In an instant, he dropped the good guy act. Or, hyped joy. 

Now, his stare was cold and calculated, posture upright like he was awaiting your arrival. You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes, a tiny scoff breaking the silence as he returned it. 

“You’re one damn good actor.” 

He chuckled deeply, “We do what we have to do in front of the people who threaten our reign.” 

You kicked the leg of a nearby chair to turn it toward you. Sitting down, you retorted with a chuckle of your own. “You’re not royalty.” 

“We are... you are.”

Third in command. Daughter of the biggest drug lord south of the border? In most cases, you could be considered goddamn royalty. Did you want to be? No, because the title that seemed to fit was ‘a chess piece in the middle of a mad supremacy’. But that was too long.  

“So, what is this? You scared my Captain is gonna knock you off your feet and take your place?” 

His hands slammed the desk. His little basket of pens and pencils toppled over and spilled onto the floor. “I have waited seven, long years for you to bring that man to me. And each time you defied me. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now!” 

You remained seated, a blank stare boring into your father’s. “Uh, probably because he would avenge me. Get it?” 

He wasn’t one for jokes, though. “It would be so easy.” 

Aggravating him further was not the smartest thing to do. And Steve had the same thought as he fumbled with his own thumbs outside, hearing the conversation from afar. He almost wanted to barge in just to put your ass in time out. 

But you had seven years to make up for - a little joke here and there shouldn’t hurt much. 

“You do know I’m an Avenger, right? Trained by Natalia Romanoff herself?” 

You worded your sentence carefully, her alias need not be spoken out loud unless you needed backup. 

“Answer me.”

When his nostrils flared, you knew better than to twist the knife. 

“Steve didn’t sign the accords. He was on the run for two years before you asked me for him. This is public knowledge.”

He pointed his index finger at you, shaking it wildly. “You lie. Why you lie?”

You had to blink multiple times through your shocked state, mouth agape and involuntarily racks of laughter spilling. He couldn’t be serious. You could only repeat the same thing so many times. 

“Like I said all those years ago - He. Was. On. The. Run. No contact. I had no way of contacting him!”

He struggled to grab whatever on his desk to raise toward your face. In this case, he pointed his phone in a threatening manner. “Excuses! Remember the last time you made such a poor excuse?”

The laughing stopped, your mouth immediately shutting. You clenched your jaw to work through your murderous impulses. 

You wondered how your hands would look wrapped around his neck. Red and angry, tightening as each desperate second passes, nails forming crescents as they pressed in his skin. If there was a window, you would definitely kick him out of it. Wave goodbye as he fell dramatically. But the mansion was one story high and you couldn’t magically conjure up a window. God, this would be the absolute best time to have Wanda or Loki here to use some of that dark magic. Either way, you just wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face right now. 

“He. Was on. The run.”

“And I thought you learned your lesson.”

You stood from your seat and leaned on the desk, arms holding you up and face inches away from his. “You gonna send in your men to remind me? With my Captain a few feet away?”

His lips were trembling as much as yours were - face blotchy with silver droplets of sweat and an angry blush now reaching his forehead. For a seventy-five year old man, he still had such a rage in him that didn’t risk a heart attack. Lucky bastard. 

“He best not interfere if it’s what I choose to do.”

Outside, Steve gripped the back door handle to the point it squished in on itself, metal twisting awkwardly and splintering the paint. His free hand was balled into the meanest fist, even his stubby nails wreaking havoc on his pale palm. He was making himself bleed by the restraint. He took slow breaths, eyes closed but ears fully alert. He wouldn’t cry. Not right now. 

“I called you back alone to invite you to breakfast the day after tomorrow.”

Whether it was because he knew you were only a few seconds from lunging yourself across his desk to break his neck or because he was tired from all the energy he had just exerted, your father slumped back into his seat as he spoke. 

“The hotel has free breakfast.”

He shook his head in complete astonishment, “You’re not getting out of this. I have important business to discuss with each of you.”

You continued to stare him down, “Over coffee?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I can’t leave the estate so close to the wedding. Your sister is flying in tomorrow and I have to make sure construction is done by then.”

“Right, ‘cause you’re the best father in the world.”

Being in the same room was suffocating, but you couldn’t help but be fascinated by the man. How unbelievably thoughtless yet calculated he could be. How unbelievably fake yet so damn real in all his hidden meanings.

“Jackeline likes to think so.”

Your sister was sweet, sure, and there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not fight one another, being the only daughters and all. But you were eight years old when she was born, already tainted by the world in which she was just born into. Forgive your lack of sisterly bond. When you were sixteen, you dipped. Now, at the sprouting ages of twenty-six and eighteen, you two couldn’t be more different. 

Actually, yes you could. If she thought your father was a good man, she was entirely ignorant of the world she lives in. 

“Good for her. Why don’t we discuss the shipment transport during the most important day of her life?”

“Nice try. That’s what the rehearsal dinner is for - rehearsal.” 

You gave your father a sad smile, “You really won’t trust me. After all these years of following your orders.”

“Now, let’s not go bringing up the past.”

You interrupted, “Why not? You’re trusting my Captain and I to help you move that shipment but won’t trust me enough to tell me where it is right now?” 

He was back to standing but he was much calmer. “Right now, I trust your Captain more than you. What kind of man would leave everything moral behind for a bunch of criminals? A bad one.”

“You’ve known him for like, two seconds.”

Your father searched his pockets for loose cigarettes. “He left everything moral behind for me. For you. And you left me behind for everything moral.”

Rolling your eyes, you backed away from his desk and headed for the door. “Sometimes you don’t make any sense. Is that it? Are we done?”

“You accept my invitation?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No.” 

     The mansion seemed larger than when you entered, the hallways longer, the walls closing in, the trinkets reaching out to stop you by the wrist. The longer you stayed in this hell hole, the more likely you were probably going to unleash the rage attached to your body in the form of your favorite weapons. Bomb the hell out of this place. 

You marched to Steve’s car. He was already waiting, leaning along the passenger door like he was going to open it for you. If he did, you might kill him too. So, you repeatedly snapped your fingers at him and pointed around the car, silently but angrily motioning him to get in. He didn’t need to be told twice. In fact, he thought it might be therapeutic for you to throw the door open and slam it yourself. It was. 

Steve started the car. He didn’t need to ask, there was no reason to since he heard everything. And so did Sam. Bucky. Scott. It was being transcribed as you swerved out of the estate. God, you wanted to throw up. 

“I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

Steve choked on his breath, “Stop?” 

You rolled down the windows to breathe in the crisp cold air, teeth becoming sensitive as it passed into your lungs. “Once we get past the cameras and nearby neighborhoods.” 

“Did you need-“ 

“When I say stop, stop. Fucking damn, Steve! Listen to me for once!”

Steve didn’t know why he was challenging you. Your father had just brought up one of the most traumatic moments of your life, basically called you a hypocrite and a coward - he tried to tear you down. And here you were, holding it all together like the champ he found you to be. But he never handled your outbursts well, even if they were completely justified. 

“Don’t fucking give me orders if you won’t tell me what they’re for!”

“Stop the fucking car!”

He slammed on the breaks, instincts still kicking in during your argument and he reached his arm out to your side to hold you back from the powerful surge. His body lunged forward, however, chest hitting the steering wheel and horn. 

You scrambled out of the car and ran into the woods, feet guiding you through mud and prickly bushes until they reached a more secluded spot. Steve stumbled along after you, nearly tripping over the same rocks you had avoided masterfully. 

Before he could ask what you were doing, you pulled your gun from its hidden holster and clicked the safety. Steve’s eyes bulged out of his head just in time to see the first round sound off mid-air. He crouched down to the floor and shielded his head. You shot away from him, obviously, until all seven rounds were dislodged, aimed in the sky diagonally. 

Once the last bullet exited, you simply packed everything up. Now calm and collected, you turned around and headed back for the car.

Steve’s voice cracked as he spoke, “Seriously?”

You pushed branches away from your head as you walked, “Seriously.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is? Those bullets don’t just disappear into thin air,” Steve scolded, jogging up to speed walk beside you. 

“So fucking what? I’m keeping the rent low in this area, then.”

Steve sighed in defeat, “Talk to me.”

“Sorry, I’m shutting down.”

“Y/N-”

You groaned, tears of frustration not entirely formed, but in their beginning stages. “You already know what’s stressing me out, Steve. Do you need it in writing?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve lowered his voice. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just,” you paused, stopping to face him. You opened and closed your hands mid-air as if that would help you formulate your sentences better. “I don’t know. But when I find out, I’ll let you know.”

This Steve could accept. So he simply nodded, guiding you the rest of the way with his hand gently placed on your lower back. 

     The drive back to the hotel was fairly silent. The radio provided a calming relief from such drama. Steve would glance at you every so often to check on you, but you were always resting your eyes. This was only the first day of the mission - officially. If you were this drained from one encounter, Steve needed to rethink this whole operation. Whether it was healthy to keep you on, or if the threat was just too large. But no matter the alternatives, Steve understood that this week was going to be difficult either way, and you needed to be present. This was your mission after all. He was just your partner. 

Even with a thousand things on your mind, you were still conscious enough to check your surroundings, check-in with the agent posted behind the front desk, and reconnect your mic with the teams. 

Steve pushed open your room door and threw the car keys on one of the nearby tables. “Nap time?”

You ignored his initial question, “I didn’t think seeing them in person again would be so draining.”

Steve watched you carefully, somewhat scared that you would pull out your gun again and shatter a window. “It was pretty cramped.”

You started to disarm yourself, tearing off your sweater and holsters clumsily. “And they acted like we were all on good terms! Around you, at least. I know they’re acting for my sister’s sake and then we can go back to hating each other after, but really?”

Steve sat on the edge of his bed, eyes sorry. “I really don’t know what to say.”

You threw yourself onto your bed, burying your face into the pillows. You continued speaking, albeit muffled. “You don’t have to say anything - just let me rant.”

“You’ll tire yourself out, Y/N. C’mon, we gotta draft up this report-”

You lifted yourself up and started smoothing down your hair, “I need a drink.”

Steve pointed to the computer, “The report.”

“A drink.” 

“Y/N, it’s getting late. The sooner we draft it, the sooner-”

You grumbled out again, already opening the door and shoving your boots on. “Steve, I need a drink. You know what they do to me, what they’ve done to me, what they continue to do every single day. Now, join me or not but I am going downstairs for a drink.”

Steve paused for a moment, looking around the room hesitantly. “Can I at least take the laptop?”

You threw your head back and walked out the door, “Take the goddamn laptop, jesus fucking christ, c’mon.”

     If there’s one thing you were happy about today, it was that you booked a hotel with a mini bar on the second floor. It wasn’t an outright full bar, but it was low lit, clean and the counters were made from fine wood, and there was a variety of flavors to choose from. There were only a few hotel guests spread out and a single bartender. You and Steve took seats at the counter. 

“Whiskey sour,” you called for the bartender, trying and failing to give him the nicest smile you could. 

Steve settled in his bar stool, “Thought you wanted to drink to drink hard.”

You chuckled at him and extended your arms in a stretch, “I’m mad, not depressed.”

He grinned at your movements - as if just sitting in a bar already loosened you up. “In that case, get me a beer.”

     Natasha had called Steve for help after your fourth beer and fifth whiskey. Her coaxing proved to be pointless, each request of a safe passage home seeming to enter one ear and leave the other. And you’ll end up killing her when you were sober enough for sending unwanted reinforcements, but even she didn’t want to fight you. If you wanted to drown in liquid courage, that courage churning itself into raw despair, then she would allow it. 

Steve stared at you for a few moments. Head hanging low, a deep frown etched into your tired expression, index finger tapping your glass as if you were debating whether to down it in one go or to leave it. Steve had never seen you like this, guard destroyed and face practically pale, just begging to be left alone. And it seemed the whole bar felt the same way, as there was no music playing and everyone was wallowing in their own grief. 

“I can spot you from a mile away, you know?”

Your voice immediately pulled Steve from his own mind and he was surprised you could still form coherent sentences given the amount of empty glasses in front of you. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt.”

You scoffed, leaning away from him as he sat down in the stool beside you. “Natasha sent you. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Good.”

Steve ordered a beer for himself, and although he was driving, one beer wouldn’t impair him anyway. It wouldn’t even cause a dent in his 20/20 vision. 

“Fucking ridiculous, it’s fucking ridiculous!” 

The bar patrons seemed to wince simultaneously and the bartender simply gathered a few of your empty glasses to wash. Steve didn’t hush you, didn’t touch you, didn’t try to reassure you. If you needed to cause a scene, it was time. Your silence for the past week had been frightening, but when Tony returned last night, half dead and without the kid, it seemed to be your breaking point. 

“Wanda destroyed it. She destroyed the fucking stone and all he did was use another to bring it back.”

Steve took a sip of his beer to disguise his quivering lip, but his eyes had no curtain. His waterline swelled with fresh tears, eyes instantly reddening, an undesired sting pinching the corners. 

“Strange must have had a reason. He must’ve, but - how can that reason include the death of trillions?”

“We’re going to find a way-”

“And if we don’t?”

Steve kept his lips on the bottle, incisors biting down only slightly as he took in your rhetorical question. You continued speaking.

“He destroyed the stones.”

“Carol is looking for answers.”

You shook your head and pulled out your wallet, leaving whatever cash you had on the counter before standing up. You stumbled but Steve latched onto your arm and pulled it to hug his waist. 

“Loki?” you mumbled, raising your head to lock eyes with Steve. He didn’t know if you were calling him another name or if you were asking for the God’s whereabouts. “Bucky?”

“Hey, stop, stop.”

“Peter?”

Steve could only nod. What use was it to lie to you? Your new vertical position seemed to magnify the true extent of your intoxication as your eyes finally glazed over and limbs trembled. 

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

Gripping his shirt, you apologized each time it would crumble and you would accidentally tug it downward. But Steve didn’t care. You were practically limp in his arms, heavy and without proper use of your legs. 

“You’re a good man, Steve.”

Steve sighed sadly but couldn’t help the small smile that formed as he looked down at you and found you sporting a silly one of your own. 

“A really good man. I’m happy you’re still here.”

Steve paused for a moment, taking in your words and holding back his own tears. If there was a time he wanted to be drunk off his ass, it would be now. He was somewhat jealous of the brief relief alcohol had given you, loose and not fully aware of the drama of the world. “I’m happy, too.”

“No, you’re not,” you slurred, allowing Steve to guide you to his car. You slumped against the passenger door as Steve searched his pocket for his key. “I heard you crying last night.”

Steve halted his search mid-pat, a hard crease forming between his eyebrows as he lifted his head. “I wasn’t-”

“I cry too,” you admitted, a drunken pout on your face. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Perhaps it was a dirty thing for him to do at this moment because you wouldn’t remember a single word of this conversation in the morning, but he figured there was no immediate harm. He found his key, unlocked the car, and helped you inside. Only once he entered the car himself did he take advantage of your blurry mind. 

“I cried for Sam and Bucky. Who do you cry for?”

You clicked the seatbelt on, mind clear enough for safety precautions it seemed. “Poor Wanda.”

Steve nodded and started the car. “Anything else?”

“Did I ever tell you about the time Loki asked me on a date?”

Steve immediately shut off the car and turned to you. “Huh? When?”

You grinned, small giggles bubbling from your chest. “A few months ago. He was so shy, too. I said yes.”

Steve ignored the twinge in his chest, “How was it?”

You leaned your head back and tilted it towards him, your smile faltered slightly. “Never went on it. And now he’s dead.”

The urge to lean over and wrap you in a much needed hug was there, eating away at him since you called him a good man. But he had taken advantage of this situation far too much, so he simply nodded in understanding and started the car again. 

“I’m sorry.”

You barely heard him, but you mumbled a quick response before letting the alcohol fully consume you. “Me too.”

     You thanked the bartender when they slid you your drink. “I hadn’t seen him since before the world went to shit.” You took a quick sip. “Kinda strange.”

Steve nodded, wondering if he should dive deep into the issue at hand. Instead of outright saying his outdated spiel, he eased into it. He gave you a few needed sips of your drink, at least.  “Y/N, can I ask an honest question?”

You hummed, “My toes are already tingling. You could probably ask me what my kinks are and I’d tell you.”

Steve suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, “You never could handle a sip of alcohol.”

Your eyes rounded at his reaction. Perhaps the alcohol affected him in other fun ways that he didn’t know. “Nope, I’m a lightweight.”

Steve contained himself before clearing his throat, “The question…”

“Go ahead.”

He rolled his shoulders and took a sip of his beer. Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice. “If it comes down to it, and god forbid you’re incapacitated, do you want me to kill your father?”

Your mouth opened slightly, the words stuck behind your tongue. You looked down at your drink, as if some special response was swimming in it. You knew your answer, but the way to phrase it was lost. 

“I don’t want his blood on your hands.”

“But if it was the last choice?”

You sighed, “If you pull that trigger, they’ll never stop coming after you.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched together, “But if you pull it?”

You shrugged and raised the glass to your lips. “That’s my life, Steve. Let me deal with the consequences.”

“That’s just it - you don’t have to. At least, not alone.”

God, you hated how perfect Steve sounded all the time. Whenever he was annoying you, fighting you, or protecting you, his syllables were stretched in the most glorious way, dipping into every crevice of the person they were delivered to and warming inches of body slowly. You wanted him to have somewhat of an evil side for once in his life, but no matter how many times you thought he would explode, he didn’t.

Two years ago, when he dropped you from his life in an instant, you had assumed you finally caught a glimpse at this evil side. It was the only time you were truly scared of him. 

“You really are a good person.”

Steve swished his beer bottle around, “I wish everyone would stop being surprised by that.”

“I’m not surprised. I guess I just want to hate you, and I can’t.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped like crumbling mountains and you couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable he looked. You wanted to pull him closer and rest your head to his chest, hear his heartbeat and apologize for theorizing a possible hatred. 

“Why do you want to hate me?”

“When you wouldn’t sign the accords, part of me saw that as the mascot of America not caring if he invaded and pillaged everything in his path.”

“But I-” Steve interjected, but you stopped him by raising your hand and waving it gently. 

“I know why you didn’t. Hell, I helped you escape.”

“Why did you help if you hated me?”

Being vulnerable with Steve wasn’t anything new. You were each other’s support system for those lonely five years, but it all changed the moment you defeated Thanos. So, for the last two years you didn’t quite get along. But here, now, you could always tell when Steve was being honest and open. 

“Guess I thought that if you were willing to help me with my family, I should help you with yours.”

His therapist desperately tried to rationalize the experiences Steve would tell, instructing him to look past hard exteriors and accept help from others. That his old friends were still friends, and enemies should never be compared to those he loved. And he knew he was easily blinded when something or someone had the slightest mishap, instantly writing it off as harmful. 

He spoke of you often during his one hour sessions - stories of your blatant silliness and crude jokes; how you would poke your finger into his sandwiches when you thought he wasn’t looking; how you almost beat up a kid and his little gang for baiting Peter after his identity was exposed; and how you and Sam had gotten into a bar fight over something so trivial, so unnecessary, that it was almost unbelievable to see you innocently scoot away from the body on the floor in the police video, as if you had nothing to do with it and those few feet of distance automatically cleared you. 

His therapist would just listen. 

“Did I ever thank you?”

You smiled sadly, “You went into hiding soon after. Then we went to battle, lost everyone, went to battle again, and then…”

“And then.”

‘And then’ wasn’t really something you two liked to bring up. It was still a fresh wound, somewhat patched up, but still open. 

You spaced out for a few minutes, both of you enjoying your drinks. You were no longer drinking to get drunk, not that it was your original goal to begin with. You just sat in comfortable silence, reliving the events earlier that day and drafting an internal report. 

“What are you thinking about?”

You pursed your lips and thought, clicking your tongue when it finally dawned on you. “This was the first time I saw Marcus White sober.”

Steve sat up straighter, “Are you sure? He didn’t look it.”

“Yeah, he usually speaks quickly and he fidgets. But he was coherent this afternoon.”

“Should that be a red flag?”

You took out your phone and sent a quick text to Torres for him to monitor White closely for the next few days, just in case. “A big one. My father referred to him more often than he did Ramirez.”

Steve tackled every idea in his head quickly, speaking as a new one popped up. “They could be planning a move against Ramirez. He’s close to overthrowing your father.”

You raised your head from your phone, “And the wedding would be a perfect distraction.”

“He would kill his greatest rival on your sister’s happiest day?”

You let out a low chuckle, “This man has nothing to lose. It won’t matter who he topples along the way.”

Steve opened the laptop, silently congratulating himself for bringing it despite your insults, and began drafting the report. The two of you worked for the next hour, nursing a couple more drinks before you sent the final copy to Bucky. 

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[rhettjmc]

R and L are detectives. McLaughlins’ been on the beat for over a decade. Neal is his rookie partner. They got off on the wrong foot and can’t seem to stand each other. Now they’re forced to be on a stakeout, stuck in a car together for hours on end. What do they do when the tensions get too high?

I asked for prompts ages ago and I only just got round to writing some of them! Here's one of my favs, from one of my favs @soho-x!

“Why do we have to sit in the back?”

“So they don’t see us if they approach from the front.”

“What about if they approach from the back?”

“The rear window is tinted.”

“You know everything, huh?”

“Yup.”

“So what happens when we-“

“Neal, be quiet!” Rhett hissed, cutting off his partner almost instantaneously, his eyes darting out of the window to check their surroundings.

“What, I’m not allowed to ask questions now?!” Link protested.

He knew Rhett wasn’t fond of him, the taller man had done nothing but snap at Link all day. Link wasn’t stupid, he knew that some might find him a little overbearing - but he loved his job, and he was desperate to learn. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been thrown into the deep-end and placed on a stakeout with McLaughlin, of all people.

“No, the whole point is that we stay quiet, we have a criminal to catch!”

“Well, you don’t have to be such a jackass about it! A couple’a kids stealin’ lawn ornaments is hardly criminal!” Link retaliated, sinking further into his seat with a stubborn pout.

Who did this guy even think he was? Sure, his reputation proceeded him, his quick wit and ability to bluff his way out of any situation made him a damn-good detective - but, his social skills were diabolical. It didn’t help that he was incredibly attractive, honeyed curls pulled back from his face and thick eyebrows knitted tightly together. If he wasn’t such an asshole, Link knew he would’ve been on his knees in seconds.

Rhett huffed, scribbling a few notes onto his notepad with a small, blunt pencil. Link tried to peek over his shoulder to see what he was writing, but it was no use, Rhett’s scrawly handwriting was indecipherable.

The pair sat in painful silence for a while, a plethora of unanswered questions sat heavy on the tip of Link’s tongue - but his pride got the better of him. Annoyance and indigence sat thick in the air between them, stagnating with every moment that passed.

Just ask Link opened his mouth to say something, he jumped with fright as a car sped past them, shaking their own vehicle recklessly. The younger of the two leapt over to Rhett’s side of the car, his hand clutching desperately at one of Rhett’s thighs as he attempted to steady himself. He felt McLaughlin inhale sharply, his thigh tensing under Link’s grip.

“Sorry- I- I didn’t-“ Link stumbled over his words, quickly scooting back over to his side of the car.

“Goddamn rookies,” Rhett muttered bitterly, fiddling with the paperwork in his lap in an attempt to disguise his burning cheeks.

“Hey! I’m trying my best!”

“You’re gonna blow the whole case if you’re not careful!”

“This shouldn’t even be a case, just tell the damn woman to buy a new ornament for her lawn! It’s kids havin’ fun!”

“You think I want to be sat here with you?! I’m the best detective they have, I solve real crimes! Not babysitting a dumbass who cant tell a tinted window from a normal one!” Rhett snapped, balling his fists tightly on his thighs.

Link visibly shrunk away from his partner, pulling his jacket tight around his chin to hide his trembling bottom lip. He didn’t want to be a huge baby, especially not in front of Rhett, but he couldn’t help the muted sob that caught in his throat.

He was trying his best.

Just as he eyed the door handle, considering making a quick escape and running back to the station, McLaughlin spoke again.

“Link - Look, I’m sorry,” he sighed, rubbing his palms over his face. “I didn’t mean to yell, I’m tired of this case too but it’s no excuse for being a jackass.”

“S’okay,” Link mumbled, fiddling with the cuff of his jacket.

“It’s not - Come ‘ere, I’ll show you how to take down the notes properly.” Rhett suggested, patting the space directly next to him. They fumbled awkwardly to find a comfortable position that allowed Link to see the files, and this time, it was Rhett’s hand that accidentally settled onto the other’s thigh.

“S-sorry!”

“S’okay,” Link repeated, a devilish grin tugging at his lips this time, enjoying the feeling of his small thigh engulfed by the warm palm.

Rhett let out a breathy laugh, quickly extracting his hand back to his paperwork, his appled cheeks burning red.

“C’mon, you can’t be embarrassed by that, you just spent the past hour yellin’ at me!” Link guffawed, knocking his knee against his partners’.

“Wh- I’m not - I’m not embarrassed!” Rhett protested, shifting to stare at Link to prove a point.

“Prove it.” Link shrugged, a new found confidence filling his veins.

Rhett’s mouth dropped open at the suggestion, “Don’t be stupid, Neal.”

“I’m not, you clearly have a lot of built up… tension,” Link gestured vaguely towards the larger man whose fingers were curled impossibly tight around his pencil, “And we probably have a lot of time to kill.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly.”

“I- I don’t even-“

“Jesus, Rhett - Do you find me attractive?”

Rhett’s reply was instant, “Well, yes.”

“Great, now would you rather be doing paperwork or foolin’ around with me?” Link asked simply, wetting his bottom lip discretely in anticipation.

Rhett grunted, exasperated, before snaking an arm around Link’s shoulders and roughly pulling him closer until their lips were just inches away. “Will you shut up already.”

Link grinned, his eyes still shiny from the momentary meltdown less than five minutes ago. His own hand boldly shifted underneath Rhett’s jacket, latching onto his waist as he finally pressed their lips together. Emboldened by the quiet whines falling from his student’s throat, Rhett sunk his fingers into the dark, choppy hair, tugging roughly.

“Shit!” Link gasped, panting as he pulled away for air. “I woulda pissed you off weeks ago if that’s all it took to get you riled up.”

“Less talking,” Rhett grunted, pulling Link’s bottom lip between his teeth as he pushed him down to lay out on the backseat.

Link squirmed on his back, opening his legs to allow Rhett to slot on top of him, greedily accepting the heavy weight on his chest from the man above him. “Wait, we won’t be able to see t-the suspects if we’re down here,” Link protested, flustered under the feeling of his partner mouthing as his throat.

“Don’t care,” Rhett huffed, licking a filthy stripe up the side of Link’s neck, “Like you said, it’s a stupid case anyway.”