#you didn’t ask for any of this but my first cup of coffee was really good

[salthusiast]

Who You Truly Are - Part 2

Viltrumite Mark x Female Reader

Summary: When the Invincible variants arrived on Earth, you never expected to get involved. It’s not like you knew Invincible personally. What you didn’t know was that you’d ended up housing one of these variants, and you didn’t know for weeks. Basically Viltrumite Mark pretends to be the Mark you know.

Word Count: 5k

Previous Part: 1

Warnings: Alludes to comic spoilers once if you SQUINT, and I mean SQUINT. It's literally "if you know you know" I tried to keep this as open to both show enjoyers and comic enjoyers as possible.

OH MY GOD THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT ON THE FIRST PART. I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT. I tried to take any advice given to me. Thank you!!!

“I am not working with you again. I don’t care that there is another version of me out there causing issues.” Mark gestures wildly before rubbing his temples.

“You have all the superheroes you could ever need on call. You could defeat half of them without me. You don’t need me right now. I have to be there for Eve. If this other version of me is really that big of an issue, then just send every other superhero you have.” Mark walks past Cecil, leaving him alone in Eve’s room. 

“Mark, please try to be reasonable.” Cecil follows him soon after. 

Mark scoffs, “If I see him, I will take action.” He stops in his tracks. “This does not mean I’m working for you. I will take action if people are getting hurt. Do not expect me to be at your beck and call.” He turns, glaring at Cecil.

Cecil sighs, “If that’s the most you’ll do…”

“It is.” Mark cuts in sharply. “In case you have forgotten, I refuse to work with you. Now, I have other things to attend to.”

“At least let us know if you see him out in public, please, Mark. If not for me, then for the betterment of humanity.” Cecil tries.

“Oh yes, I’ll just shoot you a text! ‘Hey, Cecil, I know we hate each other, but there’s another version of me destroying the world right now.’” Mark exclaims sarcastically, holding his hands up as if questioning whether Cecil is serious. Cecil looks at him unimpressed.

“I don’t hate you, kid.” Cecil responds.

“Yeah, okay, but why even ask? I’m sure you’ll know if there’s an attack or something before I do. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you spy on me even when I’m not out saving people.” Mark looks at Cecil suspiciously.

Cecil sighs; he looks like he’s given up. “Just keep an eye out, kid. Please.”

“I will let you know if another version of me decides to attack me. Otherwise, call somebody else.” Mark reiterates, beginning to walk past Cecil.

“Wait,” Mark stops in his tracks. “You know we’re always here to talk, right?” Cecil looks at Mark, who returns a conflicted look. 

“I don’t really want to talk to you,” He shakes his head, continuing his path, “but thanks.” Mark continues as he exits the Pentagon.

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

“Dude, where'd you get this coffee?” You ask, examining the foreign packing of the coffee beans Mark returned with. You take a sip from his cup, and he gives you a weird look.

“Brazil.” He answers.

You roll your eyes. “Very funny. No, seriously, you have to tell me. I gotta know your sources.” 

He looks at you, “Can’t expose all my secrets.” He looks at you, amused.

“Okay fineeee, but you gotta promise to get me some more if we run out.” You relent, finishing his coffee.

“...That was my cup.” He sounds a little despondent.

“Sorry, we can make another batch.”  You smile guiltily. He sighs, but goes to make more. You check the bag of groceries he brought. “Woah, this all looks authentic.” You examine the dry pasta that he bought. 

“Did you travel to Italy too?” You joke, smiling at him.

“Yes.” He responds seriously. You laugh in response and stand up to wash the cup you stole from Mark.

“Oooh, next time you go, you should bring back pizza or something!” You grin at him, finding it funny how he seems so solemn with his responses.

“Hm, perhaps.” He says as he grabs two mugs. 

“Oh, you don’t have to get a mug for me.” You say as he looks up at you, unimpressed.

“Really? So you won’t drink from my cup if I only make one for myself?” Mark narrows his eyes suspiciously.

You shake your head, “No, I won’t, Scout’s honor.” You place a hand on your chest. 

Mark sighs before putting away the second mug. He pours himself a cup and takes a sip. He looks at you, then at his cup. “We should put away the groceries.” 

You nod, “Of course.” You go to help him put the groceries away. 

Mark stops in his tracks, “Are you serious?”

You look at him, then back at the cup you stole again. “Sorry, I wasn’t going to, but you commented on it, so I had to.” You take a slow sip, making it as loud as possible.

“You said ‘Scout’s honor.’ Do you have no honor?” He shakes his head in disappointment.

You snap your fingers, “That’s the thing! I was never a scout.” You put the cup down. “Don’t worry, I didn’t finish it this time.” You gesture vaguely to the cup. 

He walks up to you, frowning. He looks at the cup, “You contaminated it.” 

You laugh in surprise, “Oh, come on, you’ve drunk from my cups before. Think of this as payment for providing you with temporary housing.”

Mark furrows his eyebrows, “I have?” He hesitantly picks up the cup before drinking from it.

“Uh yeah? Wait, I think? Great, now you got me questioning it.” You sigh, heading over to the couch to turn on the TV. “Let’s see what’s on…”

The camera focuses on a massive floating figure. He seems to be towering over Invincible. They appear to be engaging in some sort of fight. The headline proves that your guess is correct.

“Hey, that looks like what the Chicago Destroyer Invincibile was wearing.” You comment offhandedly. Mark, on the other hand, coughs violently before walking over to watch with you.

“‘Chicago Destroyer Invincible?’” Mark quotes you incredulously.

“What? He destroyed Chicago, it’s either that or that one Invincible wearing white. That doesn’t really roll off the tongue— ooh, that was a nice punch.” 

Mark still seems hung up on the “Chicago Destroyer” part. “From planet conqueror to Chicago Destroyer.” He scoffs, muttering the words low enough that you don’t hear. 

“It looks like Invincible’s getting his ass handed to him though… Ouch, that looks like that’d hurt.” You comment, watching as the unknown attacker slams Invincible into the ground.

“Yeah…” Mark doesn’t sound very upset, “He’ll probably die here. That guy looks powerful.” You glare at Mark. 

“You’re supposed to root for the good guy, Mark. Invincible is on our side.” You shake your head disapprovingly, placing a hand on your chest, feeling offended for Invincible. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m just saying. I mean, look at him. Didn’t you also just say he’s getting his ‘ass handed to him?’” You both look at Invincible getting slammed on the ground and punched into the sky. You grimace as the fight goes out of frame… anddd probably out of that city. 

“Okay, fine, but have some faith. Invincible is the one defending us. I mean, what’s gonna happen if this guy wins? Take over the Earth?”

 

“Yeah, probably,” Mark responds unfazed. 

You chuckle at his deadpan response. “Damn, if we were conquered, what would happen to us? I can’t imagine we’re useful to people who can fly and have super strength like that. Maybe we'd be like slaves? I’d be such an awful slave.” Marks looks at you like you’re crazy.

”You wouldn’t be a slave.” Mark responds. 

“Aww, thanks, I don’t think you’d be a slave either.” You respond affectionately. 

“What? No, of course I wouldn’t— That’s not the point.” Mark shakes his head, looking back toward the TV. 

You laugh at his response, placing your hand onto him, “Didn’t realize you feel so strongly about your ability to not be enslaved.” He stares at your hand, but he doesn’t flinch. He moves slightly away from your touch.

“Very funny.” He replies unamused. “He could, though. Enslave humanity.”

“Invincible? Nah, doubt it.” You play dumb, also knowing fully well that if he wanted, he probably could. Mark gives you a disappointed stare. “Fine, fine. If he truly wanted to, he could. I felt like that was pretty obvious. Not sure why you’re so serious about this.” You mumble. 

“You could die out there,” Mark states, wow, okay. Somebody is feeling optimistic.

“Of course, I could die out there, Mark. Unless you’re secretly Invincible, then there’s nothing we can do if somebody like that invaded us.” You gesture to the TV, feeling yourself get frustrated by his negative outlook.

“Last I checked, Invincible is getting beaten up out there, so like it or not, we can’t change anything.” He gives you a conflicted look. “I’m going to go do some work. I’ll be at my desk.” You stand up, he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

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

“Conquest was defeated.” Mark later walks into your room. 

“Who?” You ask, still a little on edge. Normally, you wouldn’t care about Mark's comments here and there, but Mark had been making comments like this ever since he started staying with you. It was just so unlike him.

He pauses for a moment, and you turn your chair to him. “That guy who was beating up Invincible. He’s apparently called ‘Conquest,’” Mark elaborates. You nod in understanding.

You look over, and Mark is standing over at the door like a lost puppy. A tall and serious lost puppy. The image is so jarring you almost burst out laughing. You sigh, “I’m sorry.” 

He blinks, “You apologize a lot.” 

You remain silent, “Sorry..?” He looks vaguely amused.

You decide to change the subject, “I tried texting Eve. She is okay. William is fine, too.” Mark hums. 

“Did you tell them I was here?” Mark asks. He makes his tone seem casual, but there is something hidden underneath the surface.

“Uhh, not yet, I literally just heard back from her… I’ll text them right now—“ You jolt as he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Mark, what—“

“Don’t tell her anything. For a matter of fact, don’t tell William either.” He replies with a sense of urgency in his tone.

You frown, “Did you guys all argue or something? Even if they’re mad at you, I still think they’d want to know you’re safe.” You remove your hand from his grip, barely registering the loss of warmth in your confusion.

“Look… just please don’t tell them. They have enough on their plates as it is. They don’t need to find out my house is destroyed.” Mark tries, looking at you with eyes reflecting some emotion.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Of course…” You reply softly. “Mark, you have to talk to them eventually.”

He nods, “I will, but not today. Just… trust me on this.” He looks down at your hand. He looks up, “Don’t tell them.”

You look at his eyes, pleading. This is probably the most genuine emotion he’s shown (other than joy at destroying you in that game of Uno, but you don’t count that). 

You sigh, “Fine…” The conflict in his eyes is suddenly gone; it’s back to that blank look. You both sit in silence, before he eventually stands up. You frown, “Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he heads towards the front door to leave. 

“Out.” He turns to leave before pausing. “Do you… need anything while I’m gone?” He seems unsure whether he should ask the question. 

You smile, “Oh yeah, just that Italian pizza I was asking for earlier. With your skills in finding hidden gems, I can’t imagine it’s too difficult.” You joke, leaning against your room’s doorway. He gives you a deadpan look before nodding and closing the door behind him.

You frown, “He could’ve at least said yes or no.” You close the door to your room behind you. You go back to work for the next few hours.

Eventually, you take a peek out of your room. Huh, still not here. Whatever he decided to do must be taking up quite a bit of time.

You are scrolling on your computer when you see a headline. It reads “NEW CAMERA SHY SUPER VILLAIN FIGHTS WITH GUARDIANS, ALL GUARDIANS SEVERELY INJURED.” 

Normally, you wouldn’t spare a second glance, but it’s unusual that all the guardians get attacked. You open the article. The giant photo showing this new “super villain” is blurry. There are no defining features. All you can see is that they are wearing dark colors and are floating over the injured Guardians.

“New super villain is pictured decimating the Guardians. There seems to be no previous record of this figure. It appears as if he was after the Guardians specifically. Nobody knows names, but everybody is asking questions. Why did they do this?”

“Early witnesses describe seeing the fight originally between this mysterious individual and Atom Eve. It must have been a planned attack, as Atom Eve was recently out due to presumed injuries acquired during the Invincible War.”

“Whoever this is seems to have a vendetta against her. As of now, all the Guardians are safe and receiving medical attention. Perhaps the most odd thing about this is that this figure fled the fight. Why? We have no idea. However, we’re grateful nonetheless. Eyewitnesses seemed to see the figure flee soon after they started filming the fight up close. Perhaps the new villain is camera shy?” You snort reading that last line.

You look at the photos provided by various witnesses. All show the initial battle between the person fighting Atom Eve. All you can see is their back, you vaguely register that they look to be masculine, but it’s difficult to tell with the low quality and distance. Eventually, when they turn to face the camera’s direction, it just turns into a blur. 

After scrolling through the photos, you read the rest of the article. The second half seems to detail the damage done to the Guardians. It’s crazy how much is occurring right now. First, those Invincibles, then Conquest, and now the Guardians? 

“That’s wild…” You mutter, scrolling up and down through the article.

“What’s wild?” A voice says.

“OH MY GOSH! MARK?!” You press yourself to the back of your chair, jumping in surprise. “When’d you get back?! I didn’t even hear you open the front door?”

He doesn’t respond, instead, your eyes are drawn to the pizza box he holds up.

“Oh, you actually got pizza.” You smile, standing up and walking out to the kitchen. He trails behind you and places the box down.

“You doubted me?” He asks as you grab plates for you two.

“Nah.” You grab a slice. “Anyway, where’d you go?” You ask casually, sitting down.

“Out.” He responds, grabbing the plate and getting a slice.

“Ooh, how descriptive.” You chuckle, taking a bite of the pizza. 

“How were you while I was gone?” He asks, changing the subject. 

“Eh, bored. I was doing some work, but then I got caught up reading an article. Apparently, some guy went out and attacked the Guardians.” His head slowly turns toward you as you speak.

“Somebody attacked the guardians.” He said, looking at you, nodding in affirmation. “Did you see who it was?” He asks casually.

You shake your head, “No. People are saying he’s camera shy. Nobody could get a clean shot without him fleeing the scene.” You chuckle at the thought. Imagine being so powerful that you could take on the Guardians alone, but flee at the first sign of a phone.

“Camera shy.” He repeats, looking at you, and he looks slightly disturbed. 

“Yep, at least that’s what the article said. Wouldn’t show his face anywhere. Must be new. Probably doesn’t want people to be able to trace his identity. Hey, it’s kinda funny how he popped up after Invincibile went MIA.” 

“I doubt he’d want to fight Invincible. Probably creates too many issues.” He looks at the pizza slice, studying it.

“Where’d you get this pizza anyway? I think this is the best pizza I’ve ever had.” You continue, you turn your gaze to the blank pizza box. Not even a company name on there. You snap your attention back to him, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna keep it a secret too.”

He eats in silence, not making eye contact with you.

“Markkkk!” You groan. “Come on, it can't be that important to keep it a secret.” You frown, looking at him. He continues to eat in silence, ignoring your presence entirely. “We’re friends, right? Come on.”

He finally looks up, “Oh, friends? Hm, didn’t realize.” He says offhandedly. “Are you going to want more?” He asks, looking at the box.

“Changing the subject, I see.” You observe. “We can save it for later.” You finish up your slice.

“Don’t tell me you were actually getting pizza for two hours?” You ask as you start to clean the dishes.

His lips turn up to resemble a smile, “I wasn’t.”

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

“Are you sure it was him?” Cecil asks, standing across Eve’s hospital bed. 

She narrows her eyes before standing up, “Yes, I’m sure. I think I’d recognize Mark when I see him.” She starts to walk to the door.

“Anything notable about him?” Cecil asks, following her to the doorway, she pauses.

“Aside from the fact that he single-handedly beat us in combat?” She asks, turning to face him.

“You barely had any time to recover after Conquest, and you were unprepared.” Cecil justifies, shaking his head.

“We didn’t get the chance to tell you that it wasn’t Mark out there. Don’t beat yourself up.” He places a hand on her shoulder.

Eve looks down, frowning, “He fought much differently than I had expected from Mark, even an alternate version.” 

Cecil nods as if expecting that, “He fought like a Viltrumite, right?” She nods. “That’s expected.” He walks past her, gesturing to her to follow. 

“Based on the information we gathered, the version that was left behind joined the Viltrum Empire. We highly suspect he was even raised on Viltrum.” Eve follows behind as he explains.

“While I hate to say it, he’s probably going to share more similarities with Nolan than he will with our Mark.” He pauses to look at Eve.

She looks down, conflicted, “But.. isn’t he a version of Mark? Can we maybe appeal to him in some way? I mean, they are the same person in a literal sense. Deep down, maybe he can be reasoned with.” 

“I doubt it,” Cecil responds, and Eve looks up at him.

“Have you even tried?” She asks, slightly frustrated.

Cecil shakes his head, “No, and if you know what’s good for everyone, you won’t. He’s a Viltrumite. Our Mark is a different case, and if we’ve learned anything from Viltrumites from Viltrum…” He pauses before turning towards her. 

“They see us as lower beings, pets. They cannot be appealed to. Our Mark is the special case. Don’t think that because they’re the same person, they have the same principles.” 

She goes silent, “So, what do you want me to do if I encounter him?” She asks softly.

Cecil looks at her, determined, “Don’t hold back.” 

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

You wake up the next morning feeling a tingle in your throat. No…

You are not getting sick. You refuse to. Maybe if you drink water..?

You take a sip, hoping the tingle will go away. It doesn’t. You try clearing your throat to see if it will go away. Damn.

Mark walks into your room, “Are you dying?” He asks, unconcerned. 

“Maybe,” He suddenly looks up alarmed, “I think I’m getting sick.” You both look at each other.

He takes a step back, creating distance between you two. “Oh, come on. Seriously? You’ve been here for days, and you’ve been fine.” 

“I don’t want whatever foreign illness you may have acquired.” He grimaces. 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.” You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not. I just don’t like viruses.” He states. 

“You never even get sick! I rarely see you get sick, if ever!” You exclaim.

“Yeah, cause I keep my distance.” He replies.

“It’s just a sore throat, Mark. It’s not like I have the plague.” You groan. “I’m going to make some tea.” 

He watches you walk past him to the kitchen, following behind you. “How did you even get sick?” He asks.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Stress perhaps? I haven’t been around anybody but you recently. Unless you were recovering from being sick when you came over.” You theorize out loud. Mark watches as you grab a tea bag and mug. 

“I doubt that. Why would you be stressed?” He asks, sitting down on one of the kitchen stools.

“Not sure. There was that attack all those Invincibles did and that whole Conquest thing.” You guess. 

“You weren’t even near those attacks, though.” Mark frowns.

“Yeah, but you were near one of them.” You attempt to clear your throat.

“So you’re stressing over me?” He asks, seemingly confused over the concept.

You misinterpret his confusion, “Mark, you don’t stress me out. Life,” You gesture outside, “does. The possibility of death is a little bit stressful.”

He looks at you, conflicted. You can’t imagine why. “So you’re sick cause you’re stressed about my, what, well-being?” He asks.

You sigh, “Don’t think too hard, Mark.” You can see the gears turning in his head. For some reason, he can’t seem to fathom you caring like that. “I was just guessing anyway.”

“So you don’t even know why you’re sick?” He reiterates, seeming incapable of not understanding how you don’t know the exact cause of your illness.

“That’s kinda what a ‘guess’ means, yeah.” You nod amused.

“Are the hospitals here that bad?” He asks. You can’t tell if he’s actually asking you or not. It seems like he’s talking to himself. 

“What?” You chuckle, confused, “I don’t think a cold requires a hospital trip.” He looks at you, seemingly conflicted.

“Okay…” He doesn’t seem to accept the answer, “Do you need anything?” He asks.

You smile, “Probably just some rest.” You clear your throat. “Ugh, I sound awful.” You shudder. 

Mark watches you for a moment before leaving the room suddenly. You frown, “Damn, bye I guess.” You mutter to yourself.

You drink your tea for about a minute before he returns. He has a blanket in his arms.

You watch as he walks behind you, placing it on your back like a cloak. His hand lingers on your shoulder.

You feel moved by his kindness, so you don’t mention that you feel like you're burning alive. You accept the blanket. “Thanks.” You smile.

He looks at you, eyes softening for a brief moment before looking away. You wonder if you imagined it, seeing as there’s been nothing but a serious expression on his face these days.

“We can share the bed if you’d like. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I can’t imagine it’ll be helpful for your recovery.” He avoids eye contact.

You chuckle amused before coughing, “Weren’t you the one who didn’t even want to be near me?” You can feel your face heating up. Damn, maybe you have a fever. You do feel like you’re melting.

He eventually looks at you, all softness (imagined or not) gone from his expression. “The offer stands.” He responds.

“What is this, a business transaction?” You start laughing, but launch yourself into a coughing fit. “Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer.” You say, not thinking anything of it.

Mark nods stoically, not saying anything else on the subject.

“Mark,” you feel reluctant to bring the topic up, “are you doing… okay?” You think back to his distance from Eve and William.

He pauses, unsure where this is going. “Yes, why?” He responds, his tone betraying nothing.

“It’s just… I thought you and Eve had a” you gesture at him, “thing… going on.” You take a sip of your tea. 

Mark stared at you, “You thought we were courting?” He asks, seemingly appalled by the idea.

“Yeah, I mean you’re with her all the time. Then suddenly you’re here and refuse to speak with her.” You tap on your mug. “It’s not any of my business, I know, but I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.” You look up at him. He looks at you silently.

“I don’t care about Eve.” He eventually breaks the silence.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Mark…” You sigh, “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to.” You take another sip. 

“Just…” you pause, looking up at him. His eyes are dead set on you, his expression cold. “Remember, she’s also your friend. William too. Don’t push them away over something trivial.”

Mark says your name, “Nothing is going on between us. Don’t misunderstand,” you see his expression shift as he says that last part, “I really have nothing going on with Eve.” 

You smile softly, not really believing him. You’ve seen them together. They lean into each other like nobody else exists. They share smiles with each other that nobody seems to understand. They seem to exist purely in each other’s existence. 

“Okay.” You sigh, not really believing him. “Just, at least try to contact them. They’d want to know you’re safe.” 

Mark nods, avoiding eye contact, “Alright.”

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

After you finish your tea, you go to watch TV on the couch. Nothing interesting is on the screen. You cough again, and you can feel Mark watching you.

You let the TV drone on for a while before you feel yourself drifting off. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Mark’s attention snaps to the door. You sigh, getting up.

You go to the door, covered in the blanket Mark gave you. ”Eve?” You look at her, surprised. “What’re you doing here?” You sniffle.

“I came here to see how you’re doing.” She smiles, amused. She looks at the blanket on your back. “Sick?”

You nod miserably, “Yeah. Woke up this morning not feeling too good. Do you wanna come…” Something catches your attention to your left.

You can see Mark wildly gesturing an “X,” mouthing something along the lines of “DON’T LET HER IN!” You furrow your eyebrows, but he looks at you expectantly.

“... back later? I’m really not feeling too well.” You force another cough. It sounds real since you are actually sick.

She frowns sympathetically, “Of course. Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay after everything that’s been going on. Haven’t really gotten a chance to check in.” 

You nod, as you watch Mark shake his head disapprovingly to the side. “Of course. I’m glad to hear you’re okay. I trust William is fine, too?” You ask. She nods, smiling, “Yeah, both he and Mark are fine.” You nod before pausing.

“Wait, Mark contacted you?” You frown, confused. You see Mark move toward you, still out of view of Eve.

“Yeah..?” Eve frowns even more confused. 

You look toward Mark, confused, and he gestures for you to close the door on Eve. “Oh, okay, well, thanks for checking in, Eve. I’m going to rest.” You gesture to your room. She nods.

“Of course, get better soon.” She smiles. You wave as she walks away before closing the door and turning to Mark.

“So…” You say slowly. Mark looks down, glaring at the floor as if it offended him. “You did contact her.” 

You sigh, “Mark, I’m not mad or anything. I’m just concerned.” You frown. “Why did you lie about contacting her?” Mark looks up, seeing you looking at him, hurt. 

“It’s nothing.” He brushes it off. You furrow your eyebrows. “Mark, if you’re here just to avoid Eve, then yes, it is something.”

”You think I’m here just to avoid her?” He asks incredulously. 

You look away from him, “Let’s just drop the subject. I’m going to bed.” You start to go to your room to lie down. Mark watches you leave, and he looks hurt. You can’t imagine why.

As you enter your room, you close the door behind you. You are about to go to bed when you see Mark’s bag open. His stuff is scattered right next to it. You sigh, picking up some of his items and throwing them into the bag. You don’t want to step on it or trip over anything.

When you throw some of his stuff into the bag, you notice some bright piece of clothing stashed neatly in there. You were going to ignore it until you saw a bright red stain on it. 

Your eyebrows furrow before you slowly move closer. You didn’t mean to snoop. It’s just that white is a very distinctive color, and a red stain like that doesn’t look normal. Perhaps you can offer to wash it for him? 

Suddenly, he opens the door, medicine in hand, his eyes gravitate to you. He looks at his bag. “What are you doing?” He asks gravely.

“Your stuff was making a mess. I didn’t want to trip over it.” You say. He (not subtly) moves to cover your view of the bag, zipping it up. 

“Get some rest.” He responds coldly. You feel yourself shrink under his cold demeanor. Is he mad at you because of the (unintentional) snooping, or because of the whole Eve situation? You don’t even know.

You do know one thing, however. Mark is hiding something. You don’t know how big, but it’s something he clearly does not want you to know.

Sure, it may not be any of your business, but you can’t help but feel like this is not something you should turn away from. You sit down on the bed, getting under the covers. 

You look at the lone bag that Mark zipped up. He didn’t have to say anything, but the message was clear. “Don’t open this bag.” His eyes told you. 

You flip over, facing the other direction. He has been acting so weird recently, distant. You kept telling yourself it was just shock from what happened, but does shock justify lies? You don’t know.

You look towards the medicine he left on the nightstand. You look at the extra blanket he grabbed for you. You snuggle closer to the blanket. Sure, he’s distant, but he’s still Mark. You turn again to the zipped-up bag.

Right?

Side note: I think this will probably be a 4-5 part series. While I will get that done, I also want to make other fics. I have this one idea for a no goggles mark fic that I'm in the middle of writing, so be on the lookout for that if you're interested. I'll probably post that one next. So yes, there will be a part 3. It just might be a bit of a longer wait than this one was though.

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[valentiyne]

𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗍 ᥫ᭡ 𝖻𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗌

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the heart of Avengers Tower, you are unexpectedly paired with a reclusive Bucky Barnes for a quiet city mission that turns into something far too personal. As the two navigate tight quarters, hidden threats, and lingering trauma, a fragile trust begins to form in the spaces between silence.

Warnings: Mild cursing & mentions of Bucky's trauma

Word Count: 4.3k (not proofread)

Copyright © 2025 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

The day they brought the Winter Soldier in, I heard the doors to the sublevel medical bay slam open like someone was breaking in. Alarms didn’t go off, so I assumed it was fine. Mostly.

Tony’s voice echoed through the corridors, brisk and sarcastic, a tone I’d come to associate with anything out of his control. Steve’s quieter, more urgent voice followed, trailing behind like a leash trying to hold back a pit bull.

I didn’t see him that day. Just heard the noise.

He stayed below the surface for weeks, buried like a secret in the foundation of the Tower. Nobody said his name unless they had to. I didn’t ask questions. Being the second youngest member of the team had its perks: I wasn’t expected to know everything, and most people assumed I was better off not knowing anything at all.

Still, I caught whispers.

Nightmares. Damage control. Deprogramming.

Hydra.

The word sat like a splinter in the air every time it was said. Everyone felt it. Especially Steve.

I saw him, Bucky, maybe three times. Once, early in the morning, when I shuffled into the kitchen half-asleep and found him sitting at the counter. Silent. Hunched over a cup of black coffee he didn’t seem to be drinking. He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at him, not really. Just enough to clock the metal arm resting on the counter. My breath caught in my throat, but I didn’t bolt. That was my victory.

I grabbed a banana and walked out.

The second time, I was coming back from training. The hallway lights flickered, a glitch they said they were fixing, and I saw his silhouette at the end of the corridor. He didn’t move when I passed. Just stood there, half in shadow, watching me like I was some flickering signal he couldn’t quite make sense of.

The third time, I swear he nodded. It might’ve been my imagination. But something shifted. A blink of recognition.

But no one let him near me.

Tony said it was precautionary. “Kid, it’s not about trust. It’s about, y’know, surviving to see your twenty-first birthday. No hard feelings.”

I pretended to agree.

It was a Thursday when everything changed.

I was up early, too early, slumped at the counter with a bowl of soggy cereal. Nat was drinking black coffee and watching the news with that half lidded boredom she always had in the morning. Clint was nursing a hangover on the couch

Tony strolled in last, sunglasses on indoors like always, holding a cup labeled “WORLD’S OKAYEST GENIUS.”

“Morning,” he said, flicking the TV off with a remote I didn’t even know existed. “Big announcement. Sort of.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Even Clint, who groaned like moving physically hurt.

Steve came in behind him, face already locked in a tight frown.

Tony clapped his hands. “Alright, hear me out, and don’t throw a vibranium shield at my face yet, Cap. I think it’s time Barnes sees a shrink.”

Silence.

Nat arched an eyebrow. “He already is.”

“A real one,” Tony replied. “Not whatever Soviet era hypnosis Steve is trying to pass off as emotional progress.”

Steve crossed his arms. “He doesn’t need a psychiatrist. He needs time.”

“Steve,” Tony said, almost too gently. “It’s been two months. Two months of isolation, nightmare episodes, and one panic attack that almost blew out the med bay’s glass. I don’t want to be the guy who says ‘I told you so’ when Barnes freaks out and throws someone off the balcony.”

Steve’s jaw clenched.

“He’s not ready for normal life,” he said. “And you don’t get to decide what recovery looks like.”

Tony raised his hands. “I’m not trying to start a war, Spangles. Just saying...professional help might be good for him. We’re not therapists. We’re barely functioning people.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint muttered from the couch, raising a limp arm. “I’ve been emotionally stable since 2014.”

Tony didn’t laugh. His expression turned more serious. “Look, the guy deserves help. And whether you want to admit it or not, he trusts you too much to say when he’s drowning.”

Steve didn’t respond. His knuckles went white against the countertop.

I felt invisible in moments like this. Half kid, half soldier, not old enough to be part of the “real” conversations, but too embedded to look away.

Tony finally broke the silence. “I’m scheduling a consult. He doesn’t have to go. But the option should be there. That’s all I’m saying.”

Steve walked out before he could finish.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I kept hearing something, soft thuds in the hallway, a door creaking open. I sat up in bed, listening.

Then came the screaming.

Muffled. Low. Pained.

My heart raced as I crept out of bed, careful not to make a sound. The hallway was dark, save for the faint emergency lights that ran low along the walls. I followed the noise toward the lower guest quarters, near the elevators they kept locked down.

Then, silence.

I almost turned back, until I saw a flicker of movement through the small window of one of the rooms.

His room.

The light inside was dim, but I could make out the shape of Bucky Barnes, sitting up in bed, both hands clenched in his damp sweat filled hair, shoulders shaking.

He looked… lost.

I didn’t knock. Didn’t speak. Just stood there.

Eventually, he looked up.

Our eyes met through the glass. For a moment, it felt like time paused.He didn’t say anything. Neither did I.

But he didn’t look away.

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t violent. But he looked haunted.

Like something inside him had broken loose and clawed its way to the surface.

My chest tightened. And then, like a coward, I turned and ran.

The hallway seemed longer in the dark, lights flickering as my socked feet pattered against polished floors, arms tucked tight to my chest like that might keep the fear from spilling out. I didn’t stop until I was back in my room, door closed, back pressed to the wood as I slid down and sat on the cold floor.

I didn’t tell anyone.

Not because I wanted to protect him, necessarily, I didn’t even know him, but because I knew what Tony would do if he found out. And I knew what it felt like to constantly have nightmares. Nightmares of my life before the tower. Tony would punish Bucky.

Back to isolation. Back to sublevel lockdowns and reinforced doors and whispered speculation.

And even though I barely understood the man, I knew he didn’t deserve that.

So I stayed quiet.

Even when I passed him in the hallway two days later, coffee mug cradled in my hands as I headed to the lounge. Even when I felt his stare crawl across the side of my face. I didn’t say a word.

Didn’t even glance at him.

The team meeting was held in the main briefing room. Floor to ceiling glass walls, too many touchscreens, and chairs that cost more than my education.

I stood up front beside Tony, who was tapping through holographic files like he was picking a playlist instead of choosing who might die next week. Steve stood beside him, arms folded, stern as ever.

Behind me, I felt eyes burning a hole through the back of my skull.

I didn’t need to turn around to know it was him.

Bucky.

I shifted my weight, fingers curling into my sleeves, trying to ignore the electricity crawling up my spine.

Tony flicked a file closed and clapped his hands once. “Alright, kids, here’s the breakdown. We’ve got a recon mission in Prague. Quiet op, surveillance only, don’t get noticed, don’t start a war. Clint and Nat, you’re our shadows on the rooftops. Steve, Bruce, you’re handling the eastern perimeter. No Hulk unless provoked.”

Bruce made a face but nodded. Tony scrolled to the last file.

“Thor and Strange are off world, Peter’s on a field trip, and Spiderbaby's aunt gets real pissed when I drag him out of algebra. So that leaves… our in house intern.” He looked at me. “You’re staying home.”

My mouth parted.

“What? Why?” I said, voice sharper than intended.

Tony shrugged like it wasn’t personal. “Peter’s not here. I’m not sending you alone.”

“But you’re sending Clint and Nat!"

“They’re walking death machines. You’re barely twenty.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Didn’t say you were. But I don’t trust you not to try and impress anyone and get shot in the face.”

Steve’s voice cut in. “She’s trained.”

Tony raised a brow. “And?”

“She’s ready.”

Tony scoffed. “Oh come on, Steve. We’re not doing this.”

“She’s not a rookie. She’s been here longer than Peter. She’s already done the work. What’s the point of letting her train with us if you keep treating her like furniture?”

My heart beat so loud I barely heard them over it.

“She’s not ready.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“She’s not regulated, Steve,” Tony snapped, the easy charm dropping from his voice. “She’s not licensed, she’s not on any agency’s roster, and if something goes wrong overseas, guess who gets blamed? Not you. Not me. Her. I’m not throwing her into a war zone to prove a point.”

Silence.

My face burned. I wanted to scream. Instead, I clenched my jaw and stared straight ahead.

Then a voice from the back of the room, low and smooth and cold like metal on ice:

“Send her with me.”

I turned so fast it made me dizzy.

Bucky stood in the shadows near the back wall, arms crossed over his chest, jaw locked, eyes fixed on Tony.

The entire room stiffened.

Tony blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You won’t send her alone. Fine. Send her with me.”

Steve looked between us.

Tony exhaled through his nose and muttered, “And here I was thinking today would be boring.”

The car ride was quiet.

Painfully quiet.

The kind where the air feels heavier with every passing block, every streetlight flashing ghost-like across the windshield. The city blurred outside , neon signs, rain slick pavement, crowds of strangers who had no idea the kind of chaos that sat just beneath the surface.

I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, hands clasped in my lap. Every so often I glanced at him...Bucky, behind the wheel, eyes focused ahead, his expression unreadable. His fingers, both flesh and metal, tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel. It might’ve been nerves. It might’ve been habit.

But he hadn’t said a single word.

Before we left, everyone had looked at me like I was walking into a lion’s den. Bruce gave me a protein bar. Natasha handed me a small blade she said Tony didn’t need to know about. Clint whispered, “Be cool. He’s not gonna kill you. Probably.”

But it was Steve who stopped me just before the elevator doors closed. His hand caught my arm gently, his expression lined with concern.

“If anything goes wrong,” he said under his breath, “if he starts to go sideways… you call for backup.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, though the words throbbed in the back of my skull now like a warning bell.

Sideways.

The word hadn’t left me since.

I snapped back to the present as the car slowed in front of a glowing tower of glass and chrome. A hotel. Fancy. Too many floors. Too many places to hide.

He pulled up to the valet with practiced ease and shifted the car into park. Then, finally, he spoke.

“We’ll stop here for the night.”

His voice was low and rough, like it hadn’t been used in hours.

I looked up at the building, heart thudding.

“Why here?”

His jaw tightened slightly as he glanced up at the hotel’s facade.

“Thief’s in there,” he said. “Probably in the casino. Last ping from the tracker Tony set up puts them inside this place. Room’s booked under a burner name. You and I check in, keep eyes open. Tomorrow, we move.”

I blinked. “You want us to stay in the same hotel as the guy who stole the crystal?”

He looked at me. “We’ll be less noticeable in the crowd than on the street.”

I hesitated, then nodded.

Fine.

We stepped out of the car together, the bellhop eyeing Bucky’s duffle bag like it might explode. I moved quickly, forcing my limbs to act like this was normal. Just another mission. Just another hotel.

The hotel glowed like money.

Warm gold lighting, sparkling chandeliers, and soft classical music piping through the air vents, the kind of place that catered to high stakes gamblers and people with clean shoes. Bucky looked like he didn’t belong, but no one dared to stop him. His face was carved from stone, eyes flat, jaw locked like he was chewing on a threat.

We walked up to the front desk, and he dropped the forged ID and Stark’s burner card without a word. The clerk, a woman in a navy blazer with a name tag that read Michelle, clicked her perfectly manicured nails against the keyboard and hummed.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “We’re nearly full for the weekend. We’ve got a luxury suite with a king bed and pullout couch, or… two single bed rooms. But those are on separate floors.”

I watched Bucky’s jaw tighten.

“No connecting rooms?” he asked, voice like gravel.

Michelle shook her head with an apologetic smile. “Afraid not.”

He exhaled through his nose like someone punched him in the ribs. Then turned slightly toward me, lips thinning.

“One room,” he said under his breath, like the words tasted wrong. “We’ll take the suite.”

Michelle beamed and swiped the card.

I stayed quiet. It wasn’t my call.

We made it to the elevators with a faint chime following us, the kind that sounded fancier than it needed to be. Once inside, Bucky jabbed the button for the twelfth floor hard enough to make the panel beep twice.

“You can have the bed,” he muttered. “I’ll take the couch.”

I glanced at him. “I don’t mind...”

“Not up for debate.”

I swallowed the rest of my sentence and looked at the scrolling numbers above the door.

Then, just as they started to slide shut, a hand shot between the gap.

The doors bounced open again.

A man stepped in.

Late 30s. Slick suit. Sunglasses indoors. He reeked of cologne and overconfidence, and he didn’t hesitate before sliding in right beside me, too close. His shoulder brushed mine.

I stiffened. My eyes flicked toward Bucky instinctively.

Bucky didn’t say anything. But I saw it, the side eye, the slight twitch of his fingers at his side. His stance widened almost imperceptibly, like his whole body tensed.

“Evening,” the man said with a too-wide grin, eyes flicking between us. “Y’all here for the convention?”

My stomach knotted.

“There’s no convention,” I said carefully.

He blinked. “You sure? Coulda sworn I saw signs..."

Then I felt it. The quiet shuffle.

Bucky’s hand came to rest at the small of my back. Firm, steady, not pushing, but guiding. He shifted, smoothly placing his body between me and the man, like he was just readjusting himself.

I stepped back, behind him without protest, pulse quickening.

The man kept talking.

“You two together?” he asked, leaning around Bucky slightly to try and make eye contact. “Not judging, just..."

Bucky turned his head, slow and deliberate.

“Yes,” he said flatly. No inflection. Just a word dropped like a hammer.

The man held his hands up in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath.

The elevator kept climbing. The silence turned sour.

When we reached the eleventh floor, the man stepped off. He gave a lazy wave and muttered, “Well, enjoy the suite,” before the doors closed again.

Bucky didn’t move until we were alone.

Then he finally exhaled and muttered, “That guy rubbed me the wrong way.” His hand finally moved from the small of my back, and for some reason, I missed when it was still there.

“You think he was our thief?”

“Doubt it. Too loud. But I don’t like surprises.”

The elevator chimed and the doors opened to the twelfth floor.

We stepped into the hallway in silence, the plush carpet muffling our steps as we made our way to the suite.

“Seriously though,” I said after a moment, voice quieter now. “Thanks. For, y’know… doing the whole ‘bodyguard’ thing.”

He didn’t look at me. Just slid the key card into the door.

“Don’t thank me,” he said. “Just stay behind me when things go bad.”

The hotel suite was big. Sleek, modern, and too quiet. A king sized bed sat centered against the far wall, sheets crisp and undisturbed. There was a velvet couch near the window and a minibar no one dared touch. It all felt staged, like a showroom, not a place people lived.

I stepped in first, tossed my backpack near the foot of the bed, and rolled my shoulders with a sigh. The tension from the elevator hadn’t left my body yet, still simmering under my skin.

Bucky followed close behind, but he didn’t slow down.

Instead of dropping his own bag, he went straight to work.

He moved silently, gliding from one end of the room to the other, checking every door, every cabinet. He opened the bathroom door, flicked the light on, then off. Looked behind the shower curtain. He opened the closet, pressed the wall, then shut it again. He moved to the dresser drawers, slid them open, checked under the bed. All without saying a word.

I stood in the center of the room, watching him.

“You expecting someone?” I asked, trying for lightness, but my voice came out too soft.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he crossed the room to the window, a tall glass panel that overlooked a tangle of glowing rooftops and streetlights far below. With quiet precision, he undid the lock and opened it just a crack. A breeze slipped through, cool and metallic.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He didn’t turn around.

“I always need an escape route,” he said, like it was obvious. “In case they come back.”

I blinked. “They?”

He was quiet for a beat too long. The wind stirred the curtains.

“Hydra,” he said finally. “Or anyone who thinks I belong to them.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

I looked down at the carpet, heart tightening in my chest. The weight in his voice wasn’t just fear, it was preparation. Like he’d already played out the scenario a dozen times in his head. Like he expected it.

“You’re not theirs anymore,” I said quietly.

He still didn’t look at me.

“You’re safe here,” I added, firmer this time.

He let the curtain fall back into place and locked the window again.

“Maybe,” he muttered, more to himself than me.

Then he stepped back, eyes finally meeting mine, not hard or angry, just… tired. Like the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could fix.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

I rubbed my hands down my arms and nodded toward the couch. “Still want it?”

He looked at it, then at me.

“You can have the bed,” I offered again. “Seriously.”

He moved toward the couch and dropped his duffle bag beside it.

“I’ve slept on worse.”

There was no bravado in it. Just a simple fact.

I didn’t push.

I went to unzip my bag, letting the soft sound fill the space between us, and Bucky crouched down to remove a small pistol from his boot, setting it within reach on the end table before slowly lowering himself onto the couch.

He didn’t turn on the TV. Didn’t pick up a phone. Just leaned back, metal arm across his chest, eyes on the ceiling.

I pulled my bag toward the bed and started digging for my pajamas, acutely aware of the man sitting a few feet away on the couch. His presence filled the room like gravity, silent, heavy, impossible to ignore.

Still, I moved like I would at home. Carefully casual.

I disappeared into the bathroom to change, pulling on a pair of pink Hello Kitty pajama pants, faded from too many washes, fraying slightly at the drawstring. I topped it off with one of Peter’s old oversized Stark Industries t-shirts, stolen during laundry roulette a few months back and never returned. It smelled like soap and nostalgia.

When I stepped back into the room, towel drying my damp face, Bucky looked up from where he sat on the couch, one brow lifting in visible judgment.

“Nice shirt,” he said, voice edged with dry sarcasm. “Very intimidating.”

I blinked, then glanced down. “Oh. Yeah. It’s Peter’s.”

His expression shifted, subtle but noticeable, a twitch of his mouth, a slight tilt of his head.

“S'you two dating?”

The question caught me off guard. Not because he asked, but because he sounded… cautious. Not jealous. Just curious in a way I didn’t expect from him.

I snorted and walked toward the bed, flopping back onto the mattress with a bounce.

“God, no,” I said. “Never.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“He’s not my type,” I added, smirking slightly. “Way too sunshiney. And he talks too much. And he uses the word ‘bro’ unironically.”

That earned me the faintest twitch of a smile from him.

Just a flicker. There and gone.

I settled back against the pillows, curling the covers over my legs as the city buzzed faintly through the closed window. Bucky leaned his head back against the couch cushion, exhaling slowly through his nose.

“What is your type, then?” he asked after a moment.

I looked at him, surprised again. But this time, I didn’t deflect.

I thought for a second.

“Someone quiet,” I said finally. “Maybe a little broken. But trying. Someone who doesn’t make me feel like I need to talk just to fill the silence.”

His eyes flicked over to me, unreadable.

Then he nodded once.

“Huh." The bed was softer than I expected.

I curled beneath the hotel comforter, one arm tucked under my cheek as I watched the soft light above cast faint shadows across the ceiling. The curtains were mostly drawn, the room dim, but not dark, not really.

That was by design.

Bucky hadn’t turned the lights off.

He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, the tension still written into the lines of his back like he hadn’t exhaled in days. His metal fingers tapped slowly against the armrest, a soft, metallic rhythm in the quiet.

I blinked over at him, groggy but aware. “You’re not gonna sleep?”

He shook his head once. “Not yet.”

“You can sleep, y’know. I won’t let anyone stab you in your sleep.”

A faint snort, the closest thing I’d heard to a laugh from him all day.

“I’m keeping watch.”

I frowned, pushing up slightly on one elbow. “Why?”

He didn’t answer at first.

Then, "Because someone should.”

I let the silence stretch, watching him from the bed. The steady clink of his fingers on the armrest continued. There was no fear in his face, not in the traditional sense. But there was wariness. A wired kind of stillness, like he didn’t trust the world to stay put while he closed his eyes.

“…You’re safe here,” I murmured again, softer this time. “We both are.”

He didn’t look at me. Just said, “That’s what the last place said too.”

That one hit something inside me.

I settled back onto the pillow, watching him in the dim glow of the room. His shoulders were still squared, eyes fixed on the door.

“You really gonna sit up all night?”

“Better me than you.”

I wanted to say more. Something comforting. Something wise. But the truth was, there was no quick fix for that kind of wound. He wasn’t just watching the door. He was watching the ghosts he knew might show up, because in his life, they always had.

“…Alright,” I whispered after a moment, letting my eyes fall shut. “But wake me up halfway. We’ll take turns.”

No reply.

But a few seconds later, the soft ticking of his metal fingers stopped.

I was just starting to drift, muscles loosening, the steady hum of the city below sinking into the silence of the room, when his voice broke through the dark.

“Hey, kid…”

I blinked my eyes open and pushed up slowly on my elbows, squinting toward the couch.

Bucky was sitting forward again. But this time, his hand moved with purpose, reaching under the hem of his jacket. I watched, confused, as he unbuckled the holster strapped across his ribs and pulled his pistol free. He turned it in his hand once, checking the safety, and then reached toward the small nightstand beside the couch and laid it down with quiet care.

The sound of the metal against wood was soft, but final.

I sat up straighter in bed, blinking. “What are you doing?”

His expression didn’t change. But his jaw flexed.

“If you wake up,” he said slowly, “and I’m not… me, you know what to do.”

The air left my lungs in a quiet rush.

“What?” I asked, a little sharper than I meant to.

He didn’t repeat it.

Just looked at me.

And then, like I was stupid for even asking, he said flatly, “You know what I’m asking.”

I stared at the gun. Cold and matte black. Sitting right next to his elbow like some grim insurance policy.

My throat went tight.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, I’m not..."

“If something happens-"

“I’m not going to shoot you, Bucky.”

My voice cracked at the end. I didn’t mean for it to.

He looked down, jaw grinding like he wanted to argue, but what was there to say? He wasn’t asking to be dramatic. He wasn’t even scared. He was just prepared.

And that made it worse.

“I trust you,” I said after a long beat, softer now. “And if something does happen, I’ll handle it. But I’m not going to kill you just because you had a nightmare.”

He didn’t respond. Just leaned back again slowly, eyes dark and unreadable in the low light. He didn’t pick up the gun, though. He left it there. Between us.

“I don’t sleep easy,” he muttered.

“I know,” I whispered.

And with that, I laid back down. I didn’t sleep for a long time. I stared at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the vents and the low creak of his leather jacket as he shifted, maybe trying, and failing, to find peace.

The gun stayed where it was. A silent agreement neither of us fully acknowledged.

Bucky hadn’t moved in minutes. He sat leaning back into the couch cushions, one boot still on, head tilted slightly to the side.

I was almost sure he was still awake, until I heard it.

A soft, low sound. Snoring.

Just barely.

Like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but his body finally gave in.

I turned onto my side, curling in a little tighter, the sound of his breathing slow and steady in the dark. There was something strangely comforting about it, the weight of someone else’s presence. Someone who didn’t expect anything from me. Someone who might actually understand what it meant to live half on edge all the time.

And somehow, despite the mission, the strange hotel room, and the pistol sitting six feet away, I felt my eyes start to close.

Sleep came easier than I expected.

For once, neither of us woke up.

[rodentcarnival]

Throw money at your problems | Hanni Pham

summary: when you spill coffee on hanni by accident and instead of being normal you just throw money at her and become her biggest fan

warnings: none

tags: rich!y/n, idol!hanni, bit of crack 

wc: 1.6k

rich people are known for being a bit out of touch with the general population. often not caring about what others do.

hanni wouldn’t say her girlfriend was heartless. quite the opposite actually.

in fact every time njz had a concert, right in the front row disguised as an extremely aggressive fansite was y/n, the same girl who now ran a twitter account with over 20k followers solely dedicated to posting hd pictures of hanni.

and to be honest, the pictures were hd. 4k. cinematic. most fans wondered what kind of job these fansites had to afford front row tickets, thousand dollar lenses, and the free time to follow their idol 24/7.

the answer? being the chaebol daughter of samsung. y/n lee.

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

you met hanni at a coffee shop. well, outside of one.

she went to open the door. you meanwhile, were sprinting out with zero spatial awareness and a hot cup of coffee in hand.

CRASH!

and there goes your coffee and your new shirt. 

“I’M SO SORRY OH MY GOD HERE TAKE THIS,” you shouted, practically deafening hanni as you pulled a stack of bills from your wallet and shoved them into her hands without counting.

“i’m so sorry i should’ve looked where i was going, here i hope this covers everything i just ruined.”

to be fair, most of the coffee ended up on you and your expensive ass clothes that probably cost more than the coffee shop itself but that didn't matter to you. what mattered to you was that you just crashed into someone.

hanni blinked at the wad of cash in her hands.

“no this is way too much! this shirt was like fourteen bucks. i thrifted it! i’m good i swear.”

you tilted your head. “huh? aren’t shirts like... seven hundred at least?”

and that’s when hanni realized: oh. this girl is rich rich.

if only she knew she had just crashed into the y/n lee. heir to a tech empire. a girl who had never taken public transport and once thought a bag of chips cost $70.

you weren’t really allowed to leave the house alone. being a billion dollar baby made you prime kidnapping material. so sneaking out to buy coffee? this was your rebellious arc. 

“are you okay? the coffee didn’t burn you or anything?” hanni asked, genuinely concerned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

you froze.

was this what love at first sight felt like?

“oh don’t worry about it,” you replied, despite the steam still rising off your clothes. “i didn’t like this outfit anyway.”

“really,” hanni laughed, “you look like you walked out of a fashion magazine.”

“this old thing?” you waved her off, praying she didn’t look too closely at the branding.

“here, i really can’t take this much money.”

before she could return the cash, you scribbled your number on one of the bills.

“in case that’s not enough to replace your shirt,” you grinned. “feel free to text me. you’re really pretty by the way!”

and then you ran. just full on sprinted back to your penthouse before your bodyguards realized you weren’t still fake shitting in the bathroom.

they probably thought you had ibs or something.

hanni stood there, stunned.

“��what the fuck?”

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

you couldn’t stop thinking about her.

sure, maybe it was the mild concussion, or the $9,000 you accidentally gave away, but still. she seemed familiar.

so like any normal person, you spent the next three hours doomscrolling the internet looking through girl group rosters.

you were about to give up when you saw a thumbnail:

“OMG - hanni fancam ”

IT’S HER.

click.

you watched the entire performance. and then again. and then you had a crisis because the camera quality was not up to your standards. you could do better. you would do better.

and that’s how you became a fansite. not because you needed the money, but because you needed her.

COUGH, i mean you needed to show the world what she looked like in better quality. yeah totally what you meant. 

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

meanwhile at the dorms, hanni walked in with literal stacks of cash.

“hey hanni, did you get my iced… what the hell,” minji paused mid sentence.

“did you rob a bank?” dani asked, squinting at her.

“she just... kept giving me money,” hanni muttered. “like, an endless amount. like, rich rich. like old money rich.”

hanni dropped the bills on the floor. one fluttered open, revealing your number.

“uhh... unnie,” hyein said, holding up her phone. “you might wanna see what dispatch just posted.”

BREAKING NEWS: bystander captures njz’s hanni pham and samsung heiress y/n lee talking outside a coffeeshop. new brand deal or new romance? 👀💞

“WHAT?! NO. NOTHING HAPPENED. IT WAS JUST SPILLED COFFEE,” hanni shrieked.

“spilled coffee and got a number,” minji smirked.

“guys it wasn’t like that-”

buzz.

manager: we need to talk.

“ah shit.”

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

turns out when you're a walking headline, things escalate. fast.

you were summoned to your dad’s office, where he scowled behind a desk made of mahogany and your mistakes.

“y/n,” he sighed. “explain yourself.”

you fiddled with your sleeves. “i just wanted coffee. and to... touch grass.”

“you know how dangerous it is out there. if they don’t kidnap you, they’ll record you and put some nasty headline up.”

“i know,” you mumbled. “i won’t go out again.”

you were absolutely going out again.

“we’ll fix it,” your dad sighed. “maybe a brand collab. make it look like a business meeting.”

“sure, yes, perfect. thank you, love you.”

he narrowed his eyes. “and y/n?”

“yeah?”

“stop pretending to shit for three hours.”

NAUR! WHYYY! 

“okay…” 

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

obviously, you went out again.

njz had a performance at kbs that weekend, and you had a front row ticket, the world’s most obnoxiously expensive camera, and a trench coat disguise. you also wore sunglasses indoors. you looked like a a person clearly trying to disguise themselves.

you weren’t sure why you were doing all this.

oh wait. yes, you were. because the most perfect girl to ever exist is performing.

you tried your best to capture every frame of her performance. even if your photos turned out a bit blurry and you nearly dropped the camera twice.

you were packing up when-

“Y/N. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE.”

...shit.

you turned. your bodyguards.

“y/n, don’t make this difficult.”

“LOOK. A BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL!” you shouted, pointing dramatically behind them and sprinting in the opposite direction.

now if only you remembered the mask part of your disguise and idk maybe not wear a big ass bright neon yellow highlighter hoodie. god forbid a girl wants to make a statement. 

seeing a trashcan on the way out there was only one reasonable choice, instead of throwing away the heavy ass backpack that was slowing you down, you decided its way more reasonable to throw away the hoodie your wearing.

there was no way in hell you were gonna throw away the pictures you worked so hard for. 

on second thought… taking your backpack off and sliding out the sd card from the camera. 

HAZZAH! problem solved, and just like that you just threw away a $10,000 camera but whatever you'll just buy another one. 

“YN STOP RUNNING”, with now multiple people running after you

FUCK HOWS THERE MORE PEOPLE?!?!? IS HE SELF REPRODUCING IN FRONT OF MY EYES OR SOMETHING

running into the back of the building you open a door that maybe was labeled “staff only” but you're basically vip. you kept running until you burst through a random door and-

five members of njz stared at you.

you stared back.

“uhhh.”

“SECURITY?” minji started.

“WAIT,” hanni said, eyes widening. “you’re the girl i spilled coffee on!”

“yeah... hi again.” you said sheepishly, i mean you did just run into her room like a mad man. 

heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway. you heard voices shouting your name.

panicking, you dove behind a curtain. hanni followed, pulling it shut.

“who’s chasing you?!”

“just... some snitches with walkie talkies.”

before hanni could question any further, your body guards ran into the room.

“excuse me you aren't supposed to be in here” dani points at the guards, they brush her off, not caring. 

“we thought we saw… a person of interest walking in here.” 

“you saw wrong” haerin states flatly. 

you start backing up more into the corner not before dropping your phone. 

“whats that noise” they approach your location closing in on the curtain in the corner.

“fuck, what do i do?” you looked at hanni, panicked.

and before you could even blink she pulls you in for a kiss with her back to the curtain, pinning you against the wall with her back to the curtain and her hands cupping your face. 

you were frozen. possibly dead.

a guard yanked the curtain back.

“gotcha- OH. sorry! my apologies ma’am!”

hanni turned, shielding you from being seen. “what the fuck is wrong with you? what if someone was actually changing?!”

the guard mumbled something and ran away, exiting the change room.

silence.

you blinked at hanni. she blinked back.

“uh,” you said with your face as red as a tomato. 

“so… wanna hang out sometime?” she grinned.

“yes.”

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

flash forward to now: you sit in the crowd again. mask on, giant camera lens ready. you're basically undercover. you post every photo to your now very popular fansite account. hanni always likes the posts.

she still teases you about kissing you first. you tell her you saved the sd card from that day.

and sure, you still don’t know how to say “i love you” often, or express in words how much you adore her,

but you do know how to buy out multiple billboards for her birthday.

and maybe... that's the same thing.

kind of.

right?

[moonwalkingprincess]

Shared Demons Bucky Barnes x nurse reader part 1

Summary: You used to be part of the Avengers, but after Ultron brainwashed you and used you to help destroy Sokovia, the guilt made you walk away. You went back to working as a nurse — the profession you had before the accident that gave you your superpowers.

Steve is asking you to care for the Winter Soldier.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x nurse ex avenger reader

Words: 640

Era: Civil war

The sun was shining through your windows as you were sitting on your couch, wearing comfy clothes and watching your favorite show, sipping on a cup of coffee. Suddenly, you heard your phone ring and you looked at who it was.

It was Steve.

You hesitated for a moment before answering. You hadn’t spoken to any of the Avengers since Sokovia.

"Hey, Steve," you greeted, trying to sound casual.

"Y/N," Steve's voice came through, urgent but calm. "I need your help."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What’s going on?" you asked.

"It’s Sam. He’s hurt. I need a nurse…” Steve paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. His voice sounded different—higher, almost like he wasn’t telling the whole truth. "I know you’re not with the Avengers anymore, but you were one of the best... and we could really use your medical skills right now."

"Why can’t you go into a hospital? This is my free day," you asked.

“Haven’t you watched the news?”

“No,” you said.

“Me and Sam are wanted by the government.”

The words made you drag your hand down your face and press your palm firmly against your forehead in the most exhausted, frustrated facepalm you’d done in months.

“Y/N, please…” he begged.

You swallowed. You hadn’t expected this call. After leaving the team to pursue nursing, you thought your days as an Avenger were behind you. At least you tried to think so. But the thought of Sam being injured—and the nurse in you—wouldn’t allow you to ignore someone in need.

“Text me your location and I’ll be there in five,” you said, and hung up the phone.

You grabbed your first aid kit.

—

You followed the address he had sent you, and it led to an abandoned building in a deserted industrial area. Judging by the old machines scattered around, you guessed it was once a factory. Steve met you at the entrance—he had been hiding behind the door—and silently led you down a hallway to a room further inside.

Sam was there. But he wasn’t injured.

Standing in front of you was the Winter Soldier.

Your heart dropped.

You had fought beside Steve against the Winter Soldier years ago. You remembered him. And as soon as you saw him now, rage built up inside you.

You glared at Steve, fury in your eyes. He looked back at you with an apologetic expression.

“So first, you lie to me. And then you ask me to help the man who tried to kill me years ago.”

“I tried to kill you?” the Winter Soldier said.

You snapped your head toward him. You had never heard him speak before. You honestly didn’t think he even could.

You looked at him closely. His face was full of pain, regret, and shame.

Steve gently took your arm and led you to the corner.

“I’m sorry I lied,” he said. “But I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you it was him. Y/N, he was brainwashed. It’s like they created an entirely different person inside him.”

That made you pause.

You remembered what it was like to be under someone else's control. You had been brainwashed by Ultron once and helped him destroy Sokovia. You knew exactly how it felt.

You gave a small nod and turned back to the man in front of you. He took a small step back—though his arm was trapped in some kind of press machine, so he couldn’t go far.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” you said softly.

He looked surprised.

“I know that wasn’t really you.”

Steve stood quietly as he watched you begin treating the injuries on his arm. And for the first time since Steve had met him as the winter soldier… he saw a smile on Bucky’s face.

[madsmilfelsen]

I think Rust is neat and all but what drew me in was his HANDS. Idk how to explain it, but something about the way he holds things and articulates makes me just. Stare at them. Like I just Know he has rough hands

alright babe, you want to talk about his hands, let’s talk about his hands via timeline

Obviously living in the bush of Alaska requires a lot of manual labor to survive, skin rubbing raw inside leather gloves, blisters from splitting wood, scars from his knife slipping on salmon (v real, I used to filet 500 salmon a summer and baby…. yew, my left hand has gotten nicked more than once— Travis and Rust had a fish camp on the Copper River, probably across the bridge from Chitna and a touch north, and lived way up river between Slana and Nabesna bc I’m making all this up right now and I said so) etc etc so his hands well worn before he got out, moved back to Texas and meets Claire snared by his weirdo allure and bizarre way of handling things— Sophia comes along and I bet he was washing his hands like a maniac, dry as fuck, probably worried his rough hands might make her fussy so held her with her little swaddling blankets at first (compensated with A LOT of skin to skin time but that’s a different ask), carefully petting her hair with just the tips of his fingers, down the bridge of her nose to make her go to sleep. Sophia loved his hands (like mother like daughter fr) could be occupied when he took her fishing by just letting her sit in his lap to play with his fingers, try on his wedding ring, ask why his nails are shorter than mommy’s or why they aren’t soft like mommy’s, map his calluses, trace the lines of his palms until he set a hook and watched him reel in dinner.

(Addition) hol up, hear me out— Sophia rooting around his bare chest and pacified with the curl of his knuckle, Sophia teething and gnawing on his fingers, Sophia learning to walk with her soft pudgy hands in his, Sophia squealing and giggling as he tickles her round lil tummy, Sophia’s only sitting still to get her hair brushed but only for daddy— Rust’s hands becoming the most abused part of his body after she’s gone

Crash era— this man does not give a shit about his hands, the most treatment they get is when he taped them together after breaking a finger, had a punching bag for obvious reasons and beat the shit out of it no gloves no tape constantly bruised. Not a stranger to working with mechanics (in Alaska, Travis would make sure he could keep his equipment running— boat engines, four wheeler oil changes, changing snow mobile tracks etc) and probably took his bike apart and put it back together just to make sure he could be Authentic, different calluses with new tools, divots in his skin lost to the unforgiving scraping bite of metal, hissing when he gets transmission fluid in his split knuckles

1995– habitual hand washing returns, dry as hell, his wrists probably crack and bleed in the winter (very very very rarely is annoyed enough to actual do something about it, probably had to bleed on one of his files— he’d use Johnson and Johnson baby lotion becuase that’s he only shit he knew, definitely drunk cried about it at least once, before sucking it up and swtiching to Vaseline), pull up bars give calluses at the base of the fingers/tops of the palms, just does calisthenics because who the fuck wants to buy equipment. Does all the upkeep on his truck (and thinking about it, this would be the first time he’d be like Alone alone in a long while, no handlers, no Iron Crusaders, no backstory upkeep, no dad, no wife, probably takes truck parts inside and cleans them on his kitchen counter because no one is there to say what the fuck are you doing— “we don’t mind being alone” okay Okay sure honey) Makes it worse by the talcum powder in his rubber gloves or licking his fingers to go through case files or staying too long in the dry archives where he can’t smoke so probably tapping his mouth, rubbing circles on his knuckles with his thumb or running it along his nails— don’t know what flavor of adhd that man has a strangle hold on but he can’t sit entirely still, fingers moving with the bits of his mind that aren’t occupied to keep himself from distraction, pretending he didn’t lose his patience with his fatherhood.

2002– Laurie :) home girl said that’s enough! Probably got recommendations from surgeons and plys him tins of hand salve, he doesn’t like the greasy feeling, but his girl is askin’ he won’t say no babey!

2012– full circle, back to them Alaskan fishing boat hands, type of hands that snag fabric (my husband isn’t a mechanic but does work with his hands and I can’t wear silk around him) and hair gets caught on, the man does not own a brush, finger combs his hair once a week and puts that shit in a hair tie, done with it.

[satellite-evans]

best friends

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando becomes best friends with your daughter after taking care of her when she's sick <3

Word count: 4.6k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It was one of those rainy mornings when everything seemed to move in slow motion. The sky was a dull shade of gray, and raindrops trickled down the windowpane, blurring the outside world into a watercolor painting. The sound of distant thunder rolled through the air, a reminder that the storm had settled in for the day.

You stood in your living room, fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee, the steam curling up into the air like a ghost of comfort. The aroma was rich, but the exhaustion clinging to your bones made it hard to appreciate. You took a slow sip, hoping the caffeine would work some magic, but the fatigue from the sleepless night refused to loosen its grip.

On the couch, your four-year-old daughter, Sophie, was curled up beneath a thick blanket, her tiny form barely stirring. Her usually bright, mischievous eyes were shut tight, her breathing soft but uneven. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, her little hands gripping the edge of the blanket like it was the only thing tethering her to comfort.

You exhaled, rubbing a hand over your face. The night had been long—hours spent checking her temperature, pressing cool cloths to her forehead, whispering reassurances into the dark. She had tossed and turned, whimpering in her sleep, too warm, too restless, too sick to find peace. And now, in the quiet of the morning, you were running on fumes, your body heavy with exhaustion, but there was no choice.

You couldn’t call in sick. Not again.

Your boss had been understanding the last time, but you knew there was only so much flexibility they could offer. And as much as you hated it, bills didn’t pause for feverish nights or exhausted single mothers. You had to push through. That’s what you always did.

Your gaze flickered to the clock. Less than an hour before your meeting.

Your stomach tightened as reality settled in—there was no way you could leave Sophie alone, not like this. The thought of walking out that door while she lay there, weak and vulnerable, made your chest ache with guilt. But what choice did you have?

You chewed your lip, fingers tightening around your phone. There was one person who might be able to help. Someone you weren’t sure you could ask yet.

Lando.

Your relationship was still new, fresh enough that you hesitated before burdening him with something this big. But he had always been kind, always made you feel like you weren’t alone in this, even when you were too scared to believe it. And right now, you needed help.

You took a breath and started typing.

Hey, Lando… Sophie is really sick today, and I have to go to work. I know this might be a lot, but… I don’t know who else to ask. Would you be able to help out for a bit? xxx

Your thumb hovered over the send button for a second, doubt creeping in. Was this too much? Would he feel obligated? Would this change things between you?

But there was no time to second-guess. You pressed send.

The seconds stretched unbearably as you waited for his response. You took another sip of coffee, your throat tight, your mind racing through backup plans—plans you didn’t have. Your gaze drifted back to Sophie, her small frame so fragile, her body lost in the folds of the blanket. She needed you. But she also needed the roof over her head, the food on her plate, the security you worked so hard to provide.

Then, finally, the ping of a message.

Your heart jumped as you unlocked your phone, your breath catching as you read his reply.

Don’t worry, I got you! I’ll take care of her. You’ve got nothing to stress about. I’ll be there in 10 minutes xxx

You let out a sigh of relief, but a small knot still formed in your stomach. The idea of leaving Sophie in someone else’s care, especially someone as new to your life as Lando, felt a little strange. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—you did. He had always been kind, patient, and effortlessly good with people. But Sophie wasn’t just anyone. She was your whole world, and handing over even a sliver of responsibility for her well-being wasn’t easy.

Still, you had no choice.

Not long after, a soft knock at the door broke through your anxious thoughts. You took a deep breath before opening it, finding Lando standing there, a concerned but reassuring smile on his face. He looked effortlessly casual in a hoodie and sweats, hands tucked into his pockets as if this was just another normal day.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping inside. “How’s our little patient doing?”

You led him into the living room, where Sophie woke up and was curled up on the couch, watching TV with tired, glassy eyes. Although she was awake, she barely moved, fully focused on what was happening indient of her. The moment she saw Lando, she peeked up at him before quickly hiding her face in the folds of fabric, too shy to say anything.

You sighed, kneeling beside her and brushing her hair back gently. Her forehead was still too warm beneath your touch. “She’s still really warm,” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone else. Then, turning back to Lando, you handed him a small notepad filled with your rushed, yet meticulous, handwriting. “I wrote down everything you need to know.”

Lando took the notepad, his eyes scanning over it with careful focus as you continued.

“Her medicine is here—one dose every six hours. She won’t eat much when she’s sick, but she loves toast with honey and banana slices or the tomato soup in the fridge. She also only drinks apple juice or water, but try to get her to drink more water.”

Lando nodded, already taking mental notes. “Got it. Medicine, toast with honey and bananas, apple juice, and lots of water.”

You glanced down at Sophie, who remained silent but was clearly listening. “She likes Peppa Pig, but her favorite is Bluey,” you added, lowering your voice like it was a secret just for him.

At that, Lando chuckled. “Ah, a kid with taste. Oscar loves it too. Bluey it is.”

You smiled, appreciating how quickly he was absorbing everything. “She’s really shy at first, but once she warms up, she won’t stop talking.”

He grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

Your expression softened. “She also hates loud noises when she’s sick, so keep things quiet.” You hesitated before adding, “And… just call me if anything happens. Anything at all.”

“I will,” he assured you, his voice steady and certain. “You don’t have to worry. We’re going to be just fine.”

You wanted to believe that, and maybe you did, but leaving still felt wrong.

You turned back to Sophie, kneeling beside her once more. Her tiny frame barely shifted beneath the blanket, but when you smoothed her hair away from her face, she blinked up at you, her watery eyes full of unspoken words.

“I’ll be back soon, sweetheart,” you promised, pressing a gentle kiss to her warm forehead. “Be good for Lando, okay?”

Sophie’s lower lip trembled, and she clutched the blanket tighter. “I want you to stay,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

Your heart clenched painfully. You stroked her cheek, trying to fight the wave of guilt rising in your chest. “I know, baby,” you murmured. “I know. But I have to go to work, okay? Lando’s going to stay with you. He’s really nice, remember?”

She didn’t answer right away, her little fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. Then, slowly, she gave a tiny nod. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Lando crouched beside you, keeping his voice soft and light. “You know, Sophie, I was actually thinking I could use some help today.”

Sophie peeked at him through her lashes, wary but curious.

“You see,” he continued, as if sharing an important secret, “I don’t know the first thing about Bluey. And I heard you’re the expert. Think you can teach me?”

For a moment, there was nothing. But then, finally, Sophie nodded again, just a fraction more certain this time.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Giving her one last kiss on the forehead, you stood, grabbing your bag and coat. Before heading out the door, you turned to Lando one last time, meeting his gaze with quiet gratitude.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

His smile was warm, unwavering. “Anytime.”

For the first hour, Sophie was quiet, keeping her distance on the couch while Lando sat nearby. He didn’t push her to talk, didn’t try to force a connection—he simply sat beside her, arms resting casually on his knees, watching Bluey with an easy, relaxed expression.

The sound coming from the TV filled the quiet space between them, the rain outside creating a gentle rhythm against the windows. Every so often, he could feel her eyes on him—brief, cautious glances before she quickly looked away, burying herself deeper into her blanket.

Lando pretended not to notice at first, letting her come to him in her own time. But when he caught another quick peek out of the corner of his eye, he finally spoke, keeping his voice light and playful.

“You know,” he mused, as if sharing a secret, “I have a friend named Bluey.”

Sophie blinked at him, intrigued but skeptical. “You do?” she asked softly, her voice raspy from sleep.

“Yup,” he nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. “She’s blue, just like this Bluey, but she’s actually a little stuffed toy my friend keeps in his car for good luck.”

Sophie’s lips twitched, and then, to Lando’s delight, she giggled—a quiet, sleepy little laugh, but still, a laugh.

“That’s funny,” she murmured, curling further into the blanket.

Lando grinned, feeling the tension between them start to melt away.

A little while later, when Sophie’s tummy let out a small grumble, he took it as his cue.

“Sounds like someone’s ready for a snack,” he teased, standing up and stretching dramatically.

Sophie hesitated before nodding. “Toast,” she mumbled, rubbing at her tired eyes.

“Coming right up, ma’am,” Lando said with a playful salute, making her giggle again.

He moved into the kitchen, following the notes you had left. He spread a thin layer of honey over the warm toast, slicing up a banana just the way you had instructed. As he placed the plate in front of Sophie, he watched with amusement as she immediately picked at the crust first, nibbling at the edges before moving onto the softer center.

He tilted his head, noticing how familiar the habit seemed. Then it hit him.

“You eat your toast like your mommy does,” he remarked casually.

Sophie paused mid-bite, eyes flicking up to him in surprise. “Like mommy?”

Lando nodded. “Yup. First time I saw her do it, I thought maybe she was just being fancy. But now I know—it’s a family thing.”

Sophie seemed to like that answer because she grinned before taking another bite.

A few moments later, she pouted slightly as honey dripped onto her fingers. Lando reached for a wet napkin, handing it to her with an amused smirk.

“Sticky fingers, huh?” he teased.

She nodded solemnly, wiping her hands with small, deliberate movements. “Mommy doesn’t like sticky fingers either.”

Lando chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “You and your mommy are a lot alike, you know?”

At that, Sophie smiled—really smiled this time—and it was the kind of smile that made Lando’s chest feel unexpectedly full. She looked at him for a moment, her tiny body finally relaxing as if she had decided he was safe. Then, with a small yawn, she snuggled deeper into the blanket, inching closer to his side.

Just as her eyelids started to droop, she mumbled sleepily, “Mommy says you has pretty eyes.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. “Oh, really?”

Sophie nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “She told her best friend, Louisa. She said they’re ‘so dreamy.’”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Did she now?”

Sophie made a soft noise of agreement, already half-asleep. “She likes you.”

Lando’s heart swelled at her innocent words, warmth spreading through him in a way he hadn’t expected. He glanced down at her peaceful face, looking exactly like you.

Gently, he brushed a stray curl from her forehead and whispered, “I like her too.”

As the day stretched on, Sophie’s initial shyness melted away, replaced by giggles and small moments of trust.

At first, she was cautious—watching Lando out of the corner of her eye as he sat on the floor beside her tiny play area. But with patience and gentle encouragement, he managed to pull her into small activities. They built a pillow fort in the living room, carefully stacking cushions and draping a blanket overhead to create a cozy hideout.

“This is the best castle ever,” Lando announced dramatically, lying on his back inside their creation. “I think we should declare this as The Kingdom of Sophie.”

Sophie giggled, adjusting the stuffed animals she had lined up as “guards” at the fort’s entrance. “And you can be the knight,” she declared.

Lando gasped, clutching his chest. “Me? A knight? That’s a huge responsibility.” He leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Do I get a sword?”

Sophie considered this very seriously before nodding. “But only a soft sword,” she said, picking up a plush toy and handing it to him. “No hitting, just protecting.”

Lando chuckled, accepting the stuffed animal with a solemn nod. “I will guard this kingdom with my life.”

After their castle adventures, Sophie pulled out her collection of books, choosing her favorites and snuggling into Lando’s side as he read to her. She listened intently, her little fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie while he brought each story to life with silly voices and exaggerated expressions.

“You’re funny,” she told him at one point, peeking up at him with a sleepy smile.

“I try to be,” Lando admitted. “But between you and me, I think you’re the funniest one here.”

She giggled again, clearly pleased.

Later in the afternoon, when her energy dipped, they settled at the coffee table for a quiet coloring session. Lando grabbed a handful of crayons while Sophie carefully worked on her masterpiece.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, peering over her shoulder.

Sophie held up the paper proudly, revealing a childlike drawing of three stick figures. One was clearly her, with curly scribbles for hair, another was you, and the last one—labeled “Lando” in wobbly letters—stood right beside you.

Lando’s heart clenched in the best way possible. “Wow,” he said, genuinely touched. “This might be the best drawing I’ve ever seen.”

Sophie beamed. “It’s Mommy and you! And me!”

“I love it,” he told her, nudging her playfully. “You’re a real artist, Soph.”

After a fun-filled afternoon of pillow forts, storybooks, and coloring, Lando noticed Sophie beginning to slow down. Her energy had dipped significantly, her tiny body slumping against the couch as she blinked sluggishly at the TV.

He frowned, reaching out to feel her forehead the way he had seen you do earlier. The warmth against his palm made his stomach twist uncomfortably—she was still running a fever.

“Alright, kiddo,” he murmured, brushing a stray curl away from her face. “Time for a little check-up.”

Sophie groaned, her response muffled by the blanket she had pulled up over her nose. “Noooo.”

Lando chuckled. “Come on, your mom left me very strict instructions to make sure you’re feeling okay. I don’t mess around when it comes to doctor duties.”

Sophie peeked out, her cheeks flushed from the fever. “Are you a real doctor?”

Lando gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know I am Dr. Lando, and I am very serious about my job.” He reached for the thermometer you had left on the coffee table. “Now, open up, little miss.”

She pouted but obeyed, letting him slip the thermometer under her tongue. Lando sat patiently, watching the numbers climb before it beeped. He pulled it out, checking the screen.

“Not bad, but still warm, Soph,” he murmured, concern flickering in his eyes.

Sophie just hummed sleepily, curling further into her blanket.

Lando glanced at the notepad of instructions you had left, then back at her. “Alright, first order of business—water. Your mom said you have to drink some, and I’d rather not get fired on my first day as a babysitter.”

Sophie groaned but didn’t argue when he grabbed her little cup of water and held it out to her.

“Just a few sips, okay?” he coaxed. “I’ll even let you have a super exclusive VIP sip while sitting in the fort.”

That got her attention. She let out a weak giggle before reaching for the cup with small, clumsy fingers. Lando helped guide it to her lips, watching as she took a few tiny sips before wrinkling her nose.

“Bleh,” she mumbled.

Lando smirked. “Not a water fan, huh?”

She shook her head, but Lando tapped the cup gently. “I get it, but we gotta make sure you don’t turn into a little raisin.”

Sophie giggled at that, taking one more sip before handing the cup back.

“Good job, kiddo,” he praised.

Next came the medicine, which was a slightly tougher battle.

“Noooo,” Sophie whined, pulling the blanket over her head when she saw Lando grabbing the small bottle.

Lando sighed, shaking his head. “C’mon, Soph. Your mom told me you have to take this.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Okay, what if I take some too?” Lando bargained.

Sophie peeked out, squinting at him. “You don’t have a fever.”

“Yeah, but I feel like I could be getting one,” he said with mock seriousness. “Better to be safe, right?”

She stared at him for a moment, considering his words. “…Okay.”

Lando grinned in victory and poured the correct dose into the little plastic cup. He handed it to her, watching as she took it hesitantly before scrunching her face at the taste.

“Bleh,” she groaned again.

“Yeah, medicine’s the worst,” Lando agreed, setting the cup aside. “But you’re a champ.”

Satisfied that he had followed your instructions, he helped tuck her back into the couch, adjusting the blanket so she was snug and warm.

He sat beside her, ruffling her curls lightly. “Feeling any better?”

Sophie hummed, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “A little.”

“That’s good,” he murmured, watching as she yawned and curled closer to him. He reached for the remote, lowering the TV volume. “Alright, you just rest now, okay? I got you.”

Sophie peeked up at him, blinking slowly, her eyelids heavy with sleep. “Mommy was right,” she whispered, her voice thick with drowsiness.

Lando tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he tried to hide a small smile. “About what?” he asked softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment.

She yawned again, her tiny body curling further into the warmth of the blanket. “You’re nice,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re officially my new best friend.”

A warmth spread through Lando's chest, more than just the gentle feeling of Sophie’s innocent words. He smiled to himself, his fingers brushing a stray curl from her forehead as he whispered, “That’s an honor, kiddo. You’re my new best friend too.” His voice was so soft, so sincere, and Sophie’s breathing soon evened out, signaling that she was finally drifting into a peaceful sleep.

Lando stayed where he was, right by her side. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of Sophie’s breathing. He glanced around the room, ensuring she was comfortable—making sure the blanket was tucked just right, keeping the environment as calm and secure as possible. He knew how much you’d want this—how much you’d want her to feel safe and loved.

And just as you walked through the door, everything around you seemed still, frozen in a sense of calm that made your heart swell in a way that took you by surprise. The living room was serene. The TV played softly in the background, a nature documentary flickering in the corner, but all your attention was drawn to the sight before you. There, curled up against Lando’s side, was Sophie—utterly content, her tiny hand resting trustingly on his arm. The sight was simple but perfect. She had found comfort in Lando's presence, just like she always found in yours.

You stopped in the doorway for a long moment, frozen by the unexpected tenderness of the scene. Lando moved with such deliberate care, adjusting the blanket around Sophie’s shoulders. He tucked it in gently, making sure she was warm and settled in, completely unaware of how much it all made your heart swell.

It was a moment of quiet beauty, and you couldn’t help but feel a soft rush of emotion rise in your chest.

Lando caught the sound of your footsteps and looked up. His lips curved into a quiet smile, one that spoke volumes without needing words. “Hey,” he whispered, careful not to disturb Sophie. “She did great today.”

You set down your bag, your voice warm with admiration. “Looks like you did too.” Your gaze softened as you looked at them, the scene too peaceful not to melt your heart.

Sophie stirred, the gentle sound of your voice pulling her from the last remnants of sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked a few times before her tired gaze landed on you. Her little voice was still thick with sleep when she murmured, “Mommy…”

You knelt down beside her, brushing a few stray curls from her forehead. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you have a good nap?” you asked softly, your heart full.

Sophie stretched slightly, but stayed nestled against Lando, unwilling to leave the safety of his side. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep as she spoke again, her words slow and deliberate. “Lando’s funny,” she said with a yawn. “And he said Bluey is his friend.”

You chuckled softly, amused by her observations. “Did he take good care of you?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

Sophie nodded, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Mhm,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but content. “And…” She paused, clearly considering her next words carefully, before her face shifted into a mischievous little smile. “He has dreamy eyes. Just like you said.”

Your whole body locked up, the blood rushing to your cheeks in an instant. Your heart skipped, and your mouth went dry. Your mind raced as you scrambled for a response, but no words came out. Instead, you opened your mouth—then closed it—before finally opening it again, only to find yourself completely lost for words.

Lando, on the other hand, had zero plans of letting this moment pass without teasing you mercilessly.

His smirk spread slowly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he turned to you. “So… dreamy, huh?” he teased, his voice low and full of mischief.

You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands. “Oh my God, Sophie,” you whined, your voice muffled by your palms. “I’m never speaking in front of her again.”

Lando chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of your embarrassment. “No, no,” he teased, “don’t stop now. I’m very interested in this topic.” His voice was playful, but there was a warmth in it that made you feel as though he wasn't teasing in a hurtful way—just in a way that made everything feel even more genuine.

You shot him a playful glare, your cheeks still burning with heat. “I hate you,” you muttered, but the words came out softer than intended.

Lando reached over and gently took your hand in his, his fingers squeezing yours. The teasing smile faded into something warmer, something more sincere. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “I think it’s adorable.”

You exhaled, still flustered but unable to stop the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. It was impossible not to feel a little bit lighter with him beside you.

Lando lifted your hand and pressed a soft, playful kiss to your knuckles. “And just so you know,” he added, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, “I think your eyes are pretty dreamy too.”

Eventually, as much as you secretly didn’t want him to, Lando had to go. It was already getting late, and though Sophie had been asleep earlier, she was now awake and clinging to his hoodie with surprising strength for a four-year-old.

“Nooo,” she whined, her lower lip jutting out in the most dramatic pout. “Don’t go, stay.”

Lando smiled gently, crouching down to her level. “Hey, I’ll come back, okay? I promise.”

Sophie crossed her arms, her little face scrunching up in stubborn defiance. “Pinkie promise?”

Lando grinned, holding out his pinkie. “The strongest pinkie promise ever.”

She eyed him for a moment before looping her tiny pinkie around his. “You have to come back soon.”

“I will,” he assured her. “And next time, we’ll build an even bigger pillow fort.”

Sophie gasped as if that was the greatest thing she had ever heard. “With lights?”

Lando chuckled. “With lights. And a secret entrance. And maybe even some snacks.”

Sophie giggled, finally releasing his hoodie. “Okay… but don’t take too long.”

Lando ruffled her curls. “Deal.”

Sophie then turned to you and grabbed your hand. “Come, Mommy. You have to walk him to the door.”

Lando arched a brow, clearly amused. “Oh, do I get an escort?”

Sophie nodded seriously. “Mommy has to say goodbye properly.”

Your cheeks warmed again, but you didn’t argue, letting Sophie lead the way as the three of you walked to the door.

When you reached it, Sophie turned to Lando. “Bye-bye, Lando.”

He smiled, bending down to give her a quick hug. “Bye, kiddo. Sleep tight, okay?”

Sophie nodded before stepping back, watching intently as if she was expecting something.

Lando turned to you, his expression softening. “Thanks for trusting me with her today.”

You exhaled, offering him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Lando took a small step closer, tilting his head slightly. “Anytime.”

For a moment, you both just stood there, caught in the quiet, comfortable tension between you.

And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek.

Lando froze for half a second, his breath hitching ever so slightly—but when you pulled back, his lips stretched into the slowest, most heart-melting smile you had ever seen.

“Was that a thank-you?” he teased, though his voice was lower, warmer.

You laughed softly. “Maybe.”

His eyes flickered between yours, something unspoken passing between you, before he lifted a hand and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a little longer than necessary.

“I really like being here,” he admitted quietly.

You swallowed, your heart skipping a beat. “I really like you being here.”

And then, before you could completely process it, Lando leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, tender kiss.

It was soft and warm, hesitant yet sure, the kind of kiss that left no doubt about where things were heading between you.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “So… should I expect Sophie to tell you stuff about me too?”

You groaned, laughing against him. “Oh God, she totally will.”

Lando grinned, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips before pulling back. “Guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

From behind you, Sophie giggled. “Mommy likes you sooo much.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Sophie.”

Lando only laughed, giving your hand one last squeeze before stepping outside. “See you soon.”

And as he walked down the path, you stood in the doorway with Sophie, watching him go—your heart already longing for the moment he would come back.

[bluetimeombre]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ? ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˚୨୧⋆｡You go on a date and you know old man Logan is gonna hate it.

warnings: smut, daddy kink, rough, penetrative sex, old man logan (not a warning, a blessing really) praise, oral (male receiving)

You knew as soon as you walked back to the complex you were in trouble, you could practically smell it in the cold air of the night. The message only further iterated when you found Logan waiting outside for you.

‘A date, huh?’

It was only a small thing, some guy in your tiny diner asked you out and of course you were gonna say no at first- you had Logan, but did you really have him? Or was it just circumstances that had the two of you together.

Logan was older and he hated most things. Most of the time he was even gruff and short with you. It had been forever since he’d last touched you so you thought where was the harm.

It took less then five minutes for him to show you the harm.

He had you chest pressed against the wall, your dress hiked over your hips and his cock stuffed between your folds. He held your hips and thrusted without remorse, almost intent on hurting you.

‘You think a young fella knows just how you like it?’ He grunts in your ear, biting down on the flesh there. ‘You think this old man can’t give it to you like you want, huh bub?’

‘Please,’ your fingers scraped the wall.

‘You just wanted me to fuck you, is that it? C’mon, tel me baby.’

‘Yes!’

‘Yes what?’ He chuckled.

‘Yes I wanted you to fuck me.’

Logan pulled out for just enough time to spin you around before sliding into you again. He groaned at your walls fluttering around him and hoisted you further up. ‘Oh you’re such a needy slut, huh. You just had to go out with any cheap dude to get your way.’

Beyond the howl of the wind you could hear the slapping of skin.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, grounding yourself as your head slips against his. ‘Need you all the time.’

He chuckled and groaned at your walls clenching. ‘I know you do bub, just need your old man to take good care of you.’

You nod, moaning into him.

He kept on mumbling, branding you with his words.

‘Cunts only made for my cock, it can’t bare anything else.’

‘Only- fuck- only I can make you feel this good’

‘Never gonna let you go bub.’

It was a good thing you were once an x-men yourself and could get your leg up as Logan threw it over his shoulder, reaching that part that made you shiver. Your nails dug in and as his healing factors slowed, you drew blood.

‘Enough to bring a man to his knees,’ he groaned.

‘I’m gonna cum,’ you gasp.

‘That’s it, good girl, come all over this cock. Make me a happy man.’

He thrusted into you until you came and soon after he followed, pressing you into the wall as he grunted loudly into your shoulder.

∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴ ∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·.

That night sleeping had been hard, your mind and body replaying Logan’s touch. You had been up half the night touching yourself, wondering if Logan could smell you and would come help- but he didn’t.

So you went to work in the diner the next day. It wasn’t until the afternoon anything remarkable happened.

Logan walked through the door, jacket on and glasses perched on his nose.

You startled, he’d never visited you at work before. ‘Logan, what are you doing here?’

‘You have coffee right?’ He asked. ‘I want coffee.’

For the rest of the afternoon, into the evening he sat and drank coffee. He flicked through a paper or scrolled on his phone that he could barely work but he didn’t leave. He just kept drinking coffee.

You were on the close, only you. And Logan.

‘What are you doing here?’ You asked as he gave you his coffee mug.

‘Had to be sure you wouldn’t be tempted on another date,’ he said.

‘I’m not.’

He rose his brows, walking the length of the counter. ‘Did i remind you you only need me, last night, bub?’

Logan made his way around the counter, standing in front of you. He cupped your chin, tilting your head back.

‘Yes, Logan,’ you say over his grip.

‘Good.’ He kissed you, biting on your lip immediately to get you to open for him. He pressed you against the counter and dug his hood into you.

You gasped at the feel of him under his trousers, his cock heavy.

‘You think I didn’t hear you last night, begging for more,’ he said, breathless against your lips. ‘You want more, I can give you more princess.’

Before you knew it, he had you under the counter on your knees, his cock sliding against your tongue.

‘Fuck, Princess. I can’t ever let this mouth go to waste,’ he grunted. One of his hands was wrapped around your hair, guiding you slowly while the other gripped the counter.

He wished he could say he could go all nights, but he wasn’t as young as he used to be. If you kept it up, he’d finish in minutes.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his jaw clenched. Beyond the radio, he could hear you gagging around his cock as he pushed further and further in. ‘That’s it bub, take it so well. All the way in, yeah.’

His balls dangled close to you, the hairs around his cock ticking you as you took him out and then back in, spit getting down your chin and over him. ‘Filthy little thing, aren’t ya?’

Suddenly, the bell over the door jingled.

‘Closed!’ Logan yelled.

‘I’m looking for Y/N,’ said the guy.

He felt you still.

You took him from your mouth but never had the chance to speak as Logan gripped your hair and forced his cock back through your lips.

‘What do you need her for huh?’ Logan asked. You were hidden so well the guy couldn’t see you, but you recognised his voice. You’d heard it draw on and on last night.

‘What are you, her father?’

‘I- shit- I take care of her if that’s what you mean.’

You wondered if the guy was suspicious why Logan was standing so close to the counter, gripping it with a hold that turned white. You moaned around his cock, testing your limits.

Logan stuttered.

‘Well I took her out last night and wanted to see what she was doing tonight?’ Asked the guy, voice edging on cocky.

You gripped Logan’s thighs and breathed from your nose, taking him as far down as you could.

‘She’s busy tonight.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Sucking me off, for starters.’

You grinned, taking his cock and liking it up and down.

‘Excuse me?’ He asked.

Logan looked down at you. ‘Almost there baby, just the tip now.’

You obliged, swirling your tongue over the tip before taking him half way and letting your hands work what you couldn’t take.

The guy scoffed. ‘Are you?’

‘About to finish in my pretty girls mouth, yea. You might want to beat it.’

He let go of your head as he groaned and came in your mouth just as the door slammed shut. You sucked every last drop, humming around him until he was trembling.

Once you were finished cleaning him up you stood back in front of him. ‘So, should I start calling you daddy?’

just a quick little thing because I drool over old man Logan

[nebularsung]

quiet mornings and latte arts | p.js

boyfriend!jisung x fem!reader

❝ a flirty barista pushes boundaries, sparking soft jealousy in your usually quiet, clumsy boyfriend, awakening a protective side you didn't know that existed. ❞

genre. fluff ⭑ word count. 3.8k+

content. jealous ji (my fav kind of ji), a very flirty and inconvenient barista, head over heels ji that does anything for you, just fluff actually!

Soft jealousy, sleepy mornings, and a little reminder of who really owns your heart.

It was a slow, golden Sunday morning—the kind that made the city feel like it was still tucked under the covers. The air was crisp, but not cold. Quiet enough that your footsteps echoed softly down the sidewalk. You turned the corner and entered the café, greeted by the familiar chime of the door and the warmth that always lived inside those walls.

Your favorite spot was free—the second stool from the end, tucked just enough to feel cozy without being hidden. You loved this place. You loved what it meant. You’d been coming here with Jisung since your first winter together, wrapped in scarves and shy glances. This place had seen everything—first dates, quiet arguments, soft reconciliations, sleepy-eyed mornings. It was your safe space. Yours and his.

But lately, someone new had been adding… flavour to the atmosphere.

“Look who’s back,” came the now-familiar voice, syrup-sweet and a little too smooth.

You looked up from your phone to see him—the new barista. All charm and dimples and a gaze that held a touch too long.

“Your usual?” he asked, already turning to start it.

“You remembered,” you replied with a small smile.

“How could I forget?” He flashed you a grin, and then added, “But if I got it wrong, you’ll have to punish me. Deal?” You laughed softly, mostly out of politeness.

He returned with your drink—perfect, as always—and this time, the foam was adorned with a heart. Not just any heart, either: two tiny initials carefully drawn inside it. Yours… and his.

“This one’s on the house,” he said, placing the cup down and sliding it toward you like it was a love letter. “You deserve something sweet today.”

You blinked, a little caught off guard. “Thanks…?”

“Anytime.” He winked. “Really. Any time.”

You left a bit embarrassed and with a coffee that suddenly felt very complicated.

Back home, Jisung was lounging on the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled down to his knuckles, the hood drooping over his eyes. His phone rested forgotten on his chest, and a soft instrumental played from the speaker—something gentle, something he probably made himself.

“Hey, babe,” you said, holding up your drink. “Guess what? Free coffee today.”

His eyes flicked to the cup. Then to you. He sat up slowly. “Free?”

“New barista said it was ‘on the house.’” You said it casually, watching him closely.

He gave a soft hum, barely a note of sound. “Nice of them.”

He didn’t say more—but you noticed the subtle shift in him. The slight crease between his brows. The way he suddenly had his hands shoved under his thighs like he was anchoring himself. He didn’t ask any more questions, but he didn't need to. You knew him too well.

The next day, you mentioned heading back to the café. You didn’t even finish the sentence before he was reaching for his jacket.

“I’ll come with you.”

You tilted your head. “Thought you hated their oat milk.”

“Maybe I’ll give it another shot.” He didn’t meet your eyes as he said it, but you caught the flush rising in his cheeks.

You just smirked. “Sure.”

The café buzzed with its usual morning rhythm, but the moment the two of you walked in together, everything seemed to shift.

Jisung’s hand found yours immediately—his fingers cool but firm. His thumb stroked the inside of your wrist like a nervous habit. You ordered together, and while you spoke, he leaned in close. His presence was unmistakable—quiet, grounding, but unmistakably there.

The barista turned around and paused when they saw you weren’t alone.

“Well, well,” he grinned, eyeing the hand on your waist. “Didn’t know you were bringing a plus-one.”

You offered a polite smile. Your partner said nothing, but you felt the small tightening of his grip.

“And what can I get for you, mystery man?” the barista asked, too sweet, too amused.

“Oat milk latte,” your boyfriend replied flatly, gaze steady.

“Oat milk?” the barista teased. “Bold choice.”

“He likes it bitter,” you said quickly, shooting your partner a glance—his eyes never left the barista.

As you moved to wait for your drinks, he pulled you subtly closer, arm now looped around your shoulders. The tension in his jaw was faint, but you could see it. His lips hovered close to your ear.

“Heart foam again?” he whispered.

You snorted. “Yours better be even bigger.”

When the drinks were handed over, there was no heart in the foam this time. No napkin note. No extra sweetness. Just two cups, side by side.

You stepped out into the sunlight, warm drinks in hand, and walked in silence for a while. His hand stayed in yours, thumb brushing over your skin again and again.

“Okay,” you finally said, nudging him with your elbow. “So… someone was feeling a little territorial there.”

He sighed through his nose, sheepish. “I wasn’t—”

“You absolutely were.”

A pause. Then he mumbled, “It’s just… that place is ours, y’know? And I didn’t like the way they looked at you. Like they could just walk into it. Into us.”

You stopped walking and turned to face him. He kept his gaze down, always a little shy when his feelings were too loud. But you reached for his face, cupped his cheeks gently.

“That café is ours. Our spot. Our memories. No one’s rewriting them unless we say so.”

He finally met your eyes, his cheeks flushed pink. There was a small knot of worry in his expression, but it was unraveling.

“Come on,” you said with a small smile, tugging him toward the café again. “Let’s go make some new memories. Window seat. Your playlist. My bad jokes.”

He laughed under his breath. “God, I love you.”

“And I love my quiet, jealous little coffee snob.”

Back at the café, the window seat was waiting. You shared headphones, drinks, stories you already knew just to hear each other’s voices. And this time, your cup had both your names scribbled in the corner—his handwriting.

Possession isn't always loud. Sometimes it's quiet hands and hard stares.

You thought it was over.

The drinks etched only with your names, the subtle yet unmistakable way your boyfriend had reasserted his place beside you. The quiet death of the barista’s flirty spark behind the counter.

But apparently… that was only round one.

It was two days later when you dropped by alone again—Jisung was holed up in the studio, headphones like armor over his ears, hunched over his desk with tired eyes and calloused fingertips stained with ink and half-finished lyrics. He hadn’t eaten. Barely spoken. You kissed the crown of his head and promised to bring him something warm, something sweeter than the stress he was drowning in.

You should’ve known something was off the second the bell chimed and the barista’s gaze landed on you like it was a secret you’d come back to share.

“Ooh,” he drawled, voice dripping with heat and honey, the kind that stuck to your skin. “Back so soon? Thought maybe you’d switched allegiances.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Didn’t see you yesterday.” He leaned on the counter like it was a casual thought, but his eyes didn’t waver. They slid over your face, pausing at your lips just a moment too long. “Figured you might’ve sold out to that soulless chain down the street.”

You gave a polite laugh, more amused than flattered. “Nah. Just busy. My boyfriend’s buried in work.”

“Ah,” he said knowingly, nodding like he had you all figured out. “The ever-elusive boyfriend. I don’t blame him, though. If I had someone like you waiting at home, I wouldn’t get anything done either.”

Your lips parted, somewhere between a laugh and a wince. “You’re bold.”

He grinned, lazy and too familiar. “I am.”

Your drink came with a heart again—bigger this time, taking up the entire surface of the foam. He slid it toward you, and with it, another napkin.

You barely read the message—something about being available if he ever gets too busy for you—before you folded it swiftly and shoved it into your pocket. Not because it meant something. But because it didn’t. Not really. Not when your heart was already home.

You didn’t say anything when you got back. Just handed Jisung the drink, kissed his temple, and slipped into your room to change. He murmured a tired thank you, lips brushing your wrist, his fingers curling weakly around the cup like he was already somewhere else.

But you should’ve known better.

He saw the foam. Saw the heart. And maybe you didn’t notice—but your hoodie smelled like the café’s cinnamon syrup and just the slightest hint of something else.

Too much attention.

That night, he said nothing. But the next morning?

He was already dressed, shoes on, waiting by the door like a quiet storm when you reached for your keys.

“You’re… coming with me?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded once. Calm. Soft.

Absolutely terrifying.

The café was quiet that early—just a few regulars, the gentle clink of ceramic, the hiss of milk being steamed. Peaceful, in theory. But when the two of you stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted like a held breath.

The barista turned, spotted you… and smirked.

“Well, well,” he said, tone sliding into a grin. “You brought the boyfriend again. I was starting to think he didn’t exist. That you were just playing a little—”

Jisung didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Just stood beside you, hands tucked in his hoodie pocket, jaw set in that subtle, silent way of his—like he was anchoring himself from doing more.

“He exists,” you said simply, your voice firmer than usual. The tension wrapped around you like static.

The barista tilted his head. “So… your usual?”

“Two of them,” Jisung answered, before you could speak. His voice low. Steady. But unmistakably sharp. “But this time, I’ll watch you make them.”

The grin on the barista’s face faltered just a little.

“Oh? Don’t trust me?”

Jisung smiled—not wide, not warm. Just enough. A flicker of teeth, a warning in disguise. “I just want to make sure there aren’t any… extra messages being served.”

The barista arched a brow, leaning in. “If there are… maybe they weren’t meant for you.”

That’s when Jisung moved.

No words. No scene.

He just stepped in—slow, certain—and slipped his arm around your waist, his hand spreading warm and possessive at your hip. He pulled you into him, gently but without hesitation, as if to say, She’s mine. This is where she belongs.

“They’re always meant for me,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but weighty enough to ground you.

You looked up at him. His gaze never left the barista, but his fingers traced soft circles into your side—steadily, reassuringly. He wasn’t angry. Not really. He was staking a claim the only way he knew how. Not through volume. Through presence.

The drinks came—this time, plain. No hearts. No swirls. No notes folded like flirtation on a napkin. Just sealed cups. Precise. Polite.

You turned to leave, but Jisung’s hand lingered on your back.

“Hold on.”

He pulled a pen from his pocket—one of those thick studio pens he always carried—and scrawled something across the side of his cup. Then handed it back.

The barista took it, scanned it slowly, and his lips tightened.

Already taken. Forever. Don’t try again.

Outside, the air was crisp. The silence between you buzzed with unspoken things. You took a few steps before glancing sideways, unable to hide the grin pulling at your mouth.

“You don’t even like their oat milk.”

Jisung shrugged, eyes softening a little. “Didn’t need to. I just needed to remind him.”

You looped your arm through his. “You really think he stood a chance?”

He looked down at you, cheeks tinged pink, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

“No,” he said, voice low. Honest. “But I’m not taking any chances with you.”

If he can’t beat the barista, he’ll become one. Eventually.

Later that evening, after the chaos had simmered down and the tension from the café had melted into something resembling laughter, the apartment settled into a quiet hum. Golden lamplight bathed the room in warmth, your favorite blanket draped over your legs as you curled into the couch, lost in the pages of your book. Outside, the city moved on, but here inside—everything had slowed.

You were halfway through a chapter when you felt the shift.

Jisung hovered in the doorway, half-shrouded in the shadow of the hallway. His hoodie swallowed most of him, sleeves tugged over his knuckles, hair tousled like he’d run a hand through it one too many times. His eyes flicked to you, then darted toward the kitchen, like he was unsure which direction to commit to.

You looked up, smiling. “Everything okay?”

He scratched the back of his neck, fingers lingering as if buying time. “I, uh… I was thinking.” His voice was soft, uncertain. “Maybe we don’t need the café anymore.”

You tilted your head. “Oh?”

“I mean—” He waved a hand, like the words were still forming as he spoke. “It’s been kinda… weird. And maybe I overreacted. Or maybe I didn’t. But the whole place doesn’t feel right anymore. Not after that. And I don’t want you walking in there and dealing with that energy just for a coffee.” He paused, breath catching for a second. “I want you to have something better.”

Your heart softened at the edges. He wasn’t just thinking about jealousy or pride. He was thinking about you. Your comfort. Your mornings.

“What are you saying?” you asked, closing your book fully now.

“I wanna make you coffee,” he said, a little too quickly. Then added, quieter, “Here. Like… every morning. From now on.”

You blinked. “You’re gonna become my personal barista?”

He nodded once, solemn and determined despite the obvious nerves tightening his shoulders. “Starting tomorrow.”

You bit back a grin. “You’re really serious about this.”

“So serious,” he mumbled, already turning on his heel before you could tease him more.

The next morning… was something else entirely.

You wandered into the kitchen still half-asleep, dragging your blanket like a cloak, hair a mess, and socks mismatched. But whatever dreams you had been floating through were quickly swept away by the chaos in front of you.

The kitchen looked like it had hosted a small, very polite explosion.

Jisung stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hoodie abandoned somewhere behind him. His hair was even messier than yours, sticking up in tufts like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. He held a milk frother in one hand, his phone balanced precariously on a stack of cookbooks, a how-to video playing quietly. The countertop was littered with sugar packets, half-spilled coffee grounds, two rejected mugs already in the sink, and what might have been a trail of cinnamon leading nowhere.

The air smelled like burnt espresso, desperation, and a hint of cinnamon vanilla—his favorite.

He turned at the sound of your steps, eyes wide and hopeful. But behind that hope was a sheepish, flustered sort of panic that was unmistakably him.

“I tried to do the little heart thing,” he admitted, motioning vaguely to the mug in front of him. “It, uh. Looks more like a butt.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed—soft, affectionate. The foam was definitely… interpretive. A little too much swirl, a bit sunken on one side. But the drink was warm, fragrant, and most importantly, made by his hands. For you.

You took a careful sip.

It was… terrible.

Burnt. A little too bitter. Possibly brewed with salt instead of sugar. You weren’t entirely sure.

But he was watching you like a nervous golden retriever that had brought you a very mangled tennis ball, tail wagging but unsure if this counted as a good deed.

You smiled through the sip. “It’s perfect.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Absolutely,” you said with a small grin. “But I appreciate the effort.”

He groaned and collapsed forward, burying his face against your shoulder with a muffled groan. “I swear I followed the video exactly.”

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging him close. His body sagged against yours, warm and heavy, like he’d been holding up the world with caffeine and love and now he could finally exhale.

“You’re already better than that barista,” you whispered.

He mumbled something unintelligible into your neck.

You pulled back just enough to see his face, your hand brushing the messy fringe out of his eyes. “Wanna know why?”

He blinked at you, quiet, waiting.

“Because you’re doing this for me. Not to impress anyone. Not to win some stupid game. Just because you love me. That makes every sip taste better.”

His expression cracked wide open at that—eyes softening, a shy grin tugging at the corners of his lips like a flower blooming in slow motion.

“I’m gonna get it right,” he said, earnest. “Even if it takes a hundred tries.”

And over the next few days, he did.

One mug at a time.

There were a few near disasters—like the day he frothed milk too long and it exploded onto the cabinets, or the time he accidentally poured in orange juice instead of oat milk. But with each attempt, he learned. He adjusted. He grew.

He found a playlist that matched the rhythm of morning light. He learned to warm the mugs beforehand. He figured out how to swirl the milk just right, even if the hearts still sometimes looked like melting clouds.

And one morning—just as the first golden rays slipped through the blinds—he placed a mug in front of you with foam shaped into something charmingly lopsided, but unmistakable.

A heart.

You kissed him before taking a sip.

Later that week, the two of you curled up on the couch together—your legs tangled, his hoodie pulled over both of you like a makeshift blanket. He handed you a fresh mug, the foam swirled into… something.

“It’s supposed to be a cat,” he mumbled, cheeks pink. “But it might be a bear. Or a… puddle.”

You took a sip, leaned your head on his shoulder, and sighed. “It’s perfect.”

He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you close, his cheek pressed to your temple.

And in that moment, you knew:

You didn’t need the café.

You didn’t need the foam hearts or the passive-aggressive flirting.

You didn’t need anything but this.

Him.

Love is in the mornings you don’t want to leave the bed, and the coffees that taste like effort.

The house is quiet, save for the soft hum of the kettle and the distant, gentle beat of rain tapping on the windows. The sky is still tucked in sleep, painted in shades of pale lavender and steel blue, and everything outside feels like it’s holding its breath.

Inside, though—it’s warm.

Jisung’s standing in the kitchen again, barefoot on cool tiles, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows in that slightly clumsy way he always does it. He’s squinting at the milk frother like it personally offended him, brows furrowed, lips pursed in deep concentration.

You watch from the doorway for a moment, heart squeezing at how much he wants this to be right. Not because he needs to be perfect—but because he wants to give you something that feels like care, poured in steam and effort and quiet devotion.

He finally notices you, and the serious look on his face softens immediately. The way his eyes crinkle, the tiny, lopsided smile that appears—it’s all so him. A little awkward, a little unsure, but so full of love it nearly knocks the breath out of you.

“You’re up early,” he says, voice still raspy with sleep, like velvet rubbed the wrong way. “I was trying to surprise you.”

You pad closer, feet silent on the floor, arms wrapping around his waist from behind. You press your cheek to his back, breathing him in—coffee beans and cotton, warmth and him.

“You already do,” you murmur.

He turns in your arms, hands instinctively finding your waist. One of them is still slightly sticky from the syrup he was experimenting with. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“I wanted to try a new recipe,” he says. “Hazelnut vanilla, with a little cinnamon. I know it’s your favorite combo.”

You smile against his chest. “Did it turn out?”

A sheepish pause.

“…Kinda?”

You laugh softly, and it earns you a pout. He’s cute when he sulks, especially when he’s trying to impress you and it doesn’t quite land.

You kiss the tip of his nose. “I’ll love it even if it’s terrible.”

Ji mutters something about low standards, but his ears turn pink and he lets you pull him over to the couch while the kettle finishes heating. He hands you a blanket before settling beside you, your legs thrown over his lap, your body instinctively curling into the space he makes for you.

He pulls out his phone, scrolling through the video tutorial again like he’s studying for an exam. You watch him, amusement mixing with something deeper—gratitude, affection, a quiet awe for this man who keeps trying. Keeps choosing you, over and over, in a thousand tiny ways that never need to be loud to be meaningful.

Soon, the smell of fresh coffee fills the room.

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes, and you hear the clinking of cups, the telltale hiss of the frother, the light thud of a cabinet being closed too hard.

When he returns, he’s balancing two mugs, eyebrows furrowed, lip caught between his teeth.

“Don’t laugh,” he warns as he hands one to you.

You look down. The foam art is… abstract again. A little swirl, a weird heart shape that might’ve once had dreams of being a leaf. But it smells divine, and the warmth seeps through your fingers as you take your first sip.

It’s perfect. Not because it’s a barista’s masterpiece. But because it tastes like late nights and early mornings, like whispered I love yous in half-sleep, like the effort it takes to care for someone with your whole chest.

Your boyfriend watches your face, nervous.

You let out a happy sigh. “I’ve never had better.”

The relief on his face is almost comical, and you can’t help but laugh as he relaxes against you. He sets his mug down and wraps his arms around you from the side, lips brushing your temple, then your cheek, then just resting there, warm and soft.

“Next time,” he mumbles, “I’m gonna try the tulip design.”

You hum against him. “Even if it looks like a splat, I’ll still love it.”

He chuckles. “It probably will.”

You shift closer, tucking yourself into his arms, coffee resting on the arm of the couch, the rain outside still soft and steady.

“Maybe we should make this our thing,” you whisper. “Messy coffee mornings. Lazy, rainy days.”

His voice is low, wrapped in something gentle and real. “Yeah. I like that.”

And in that little corner of the world—just the two of you, tangled in blankets and the scent of cinnamon—you realize:

It doesn’t matter how the coffee turns out.

He’s already your favorite way to start the day.

☆ masterlist + notes. can you tell i got a bit carried away? it's just that... jealous ji is my favourite kind of jihsjdkdsjd

★ @lyvhie @spacejip @zhapire

[kairakeiji]

kuroo has tried to confess to you twice.

the first was a mistake, a spur of the moment confession as you cried over the boy you just broke up with. the guy was an ass, he didn’t treat you right. he made you commute hours to go see him, he didn’t show up to any of your big events. he didn’t even plan any dates or ask you to hang out. kuroo confessed mid-breakdown, just days after your breakup, as he handed you a cup of coffee (your regular order, nonetheless) and tried to haul you out of your three day hibernation.

he didn’t talk to you for weeks after that, he kicks himself for it to this day.

the second confession went wrong. jealously festered in him after hearing about the date you went on as you worried about getting ghosted. you sat on the phone with him pacing back and forth in your bedroom, checking your texts over and over. and kuroo couldn’t help the way his blood boiled as you continued on and on about your date and how he paid for your meal and how he drove you home and…

“there’s someone i’m thinking of asking out,” he told you.

“you should go for it!” you obliviously replied in the mess of your anxiousness.

“it’s you.”

you froze in your tracks, as the rambles of getting ghosted turned into apologies about how you weren’t ready for a relationship and explanations he already knew, given how much you two spoke. kuroo should’ve given up, he should’ve moved on with his life and accepted that you two were friends and never anything more. he probably should’ve given you some distance, allowed himself the space to get on with his life, and hopefully find someone better.

but he’s stubborn, and frankly, he thinks he’s not going to find anyone as perfect for him as you.

so now he sits on the floor of your bedroom, an air mattress set up next to him as you shower in the bathroom. the onigiri wrappers still sat on the floor, your reward for just barely making it to the convenience store before closing. he hears your laughter in his ears, and a part of him can’t help but smile, his heart sinking slightly.

and he begins to wonder, what is he truly doing here?

a cloud of steam emerges from the bathroom.

“tetsu what time is it?” you mumble as you hang up the wet towel.

tetsu, the stupid nickname you’ve called him since you first met. It’s yours and yours alone, yet he knows you’ll never be his.

your voice sends a jolt down his spine, “somewhere close to 2:30,” he answers.

you sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “are you sleepy yet?” you mumble with a sigh.

kuroo’s heart leaps, too scared to actually take a look at you. your wet hair seeps through his shirt, but he truly doesn’t have it in him to care. “a bit, yeah,” he lies, wrapping his arms around you, something that’s become a matter of instinct in your time of friendship.

you lean in closer, eyes shut and a sigh leaves your lips. “we should sleep then, yeah?’

we. the collective we, as if you two were grouped under two letters, as if you two were together.

what was kenma calling it? a situationship?

god, kuroo hated that word. it’s not even a real word.

“we should,” he tells you, before shuffling slightly. “now are you gonna sleep here or are you actually going to get in bed?”

“in a second,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. “you’re comfy.”

he laughs, “should i take that as a compliment?”

“knowing you, i thought you would.”

“then thank you,” he nods. “glad to be a pillow for you.”

you straighten up, before standing and padding to your bed. “you’re more than just that, you know?”

he quirks a brow, a smirk on his face despite the slight waiver of his voice. “oh really? what am i then?”

“an amazing friend,” you start as you shuffle into bed. “the person who accompanies me on my late night convenience store runs, the person who brags about their grades being significantly better than mine.”

“i don’t say it like that.”

“you totally do, don’t deny it.”

and he scoffs, shaking his head as his lips curve upward.

“you’re the person who was there for me when it felt like no one was, the person who’s willing to help me with anything i need. i feel so safe with you and know i can trust you, and yes, you do make a good pillow.” you sigh and kuroo meets your gaze, the way your eyes shine making his heart sink slightly. “thank you for being here.”

and his heart sinks more, “anything for you.”

you smile at him, “i’m gonna head to bed then, wake me up if you need anything. good-”

“hey can i ask you something?”

you hesitate, “yeah what is it?”

“what am i doing here?”

you blink, “what do you mean?”

“while you were in the shower, i was just thinking, i’m in the room of the person i like, and they know that i like them,” he explains. “they know i like them, yet they continue to be so nice to me and keep me in their lives even though we both know it could possibly be better if i did otherwise.” he meets your gaze, searching in your features for a semblance of an answer. “so really, why am i here?”

you shake your head, before your back hits your bed. “you’re gonna make me say it?” you mumble.

and his stomach drops. “yes, i am,” his voice becoming stern.

“it’s because,” you hesitate, hands covering your eyes. kuroo’s heartbeat thrums in his ears, careful eyes watching you frozen in bed. the air remains quiet, and all kuroo can find himself doing is watch, his third confession lingering in the tense air. maybe this one might be the last one, maybe once he hears you turn him down again, he’ll finally give up for good. they always say third time’s the charm, maybe this one will finally get your message into his brain. a sigh leaves your lips, and kuroo swears his body tenses.

“it’s because i like you.”

and kuroo blinks, “you do?”

you immediately sit up. “what do you mean i do? of course i like you.” and he just stares at you. “i never ask you to sleep over,” you explain. “i told myself that if i didn’t tell you how i felt by the end of today, i was going to drop it and never bring it up again. i told myself i would move on and never act on my feelings.” you finally meet his gaze, eyes widening when you see his jaw slack. “what,” you question, voice getting higher. “did i say something wrong?”

“i thought you were going to reject me,” he mumbles rather candidly.

“i could never,” you tell him. “i didn’t even really reject you the second time you confessed. i just said i wasn’t ready for a relationship, not that i didn’t have feelings for you.”

he blinks, “oh.”

“i thought you picked that up,” you sigh.

he runs a hand through his hair, mentally face palming, “honestly, all i remember is that you didn’t stop talking for ten minutes straight.” you sigh, “i mean, seriously, who yaps for that long?”

“someone who doesn’t know how to say yes but also say no,” you mumble.

“you could've said maybe,” he tries. “i could’ve gotten more of a hint then.”

and you can’t help but giggle, sliding off your place in bed to join him back on the floor. you meet his gaze, his eyes still full of disbelief, “tetsu, i like you.”

kuroo swears he’s dreaming for a second.

he blinks, his answer rather instant. “i like you too.”

you reach for his hand, squeezing it. “so, it’ll stick in your head,” you joke poking his head with your other hand before getting back up.

he keeps a tight grip on your hand, pulling you back to the ground. “tetsu?” his hand rests gently on your cheek as he leans forward, adrenaline coursing through him as his lips meet yours. his heart pounds, his thoughts running at a million miles a minute.

but everything seems to slow when you kiss him back, your hands reaching for his cheeks. and for the first time that night, kuroo feels his heartbeat slow.

he pulls away with a small grin. “so it’ll stick now in yours,” he mumbles.

you hesitate for a second, “you know what? i don’t think it’s sticking,” there’s a slight lilt to your voice.

“you don’t?” he questions.

“i don’t,” you nod rather proudly.

kuroo can’t help but shake his head, his grin growing wider by the second. “there’s no harm in trying again.” and this time, you’re the one to pull him in. your hand rests on the back of his neck and you can feel him smile.

third time’s the charm, they always say. luckily, this time, it worked in his favor.

haikyuu 2021/2022 renaissance era frrrr - I haven't written in so long pls be so kind with feedback she's a little rusty lol, but thank you for reading <3

[tedmustache]

could you something where both dr robby and dr abbott have a crush on the reader who’s a nurse? if not it’s all good! have a good day!

n/a: Hey, thanks for the ask! I hope you like it

Triage

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader x Michael "Robbie" Robinavitch

Summary: Amid the nonstop pressure of a Pitt emergency room, one nurse navigates long nights, relentless crises, and two doctors who are harder to read than any medical chart.

Warnings: impliced!jealous!jack, impliced!jealous!Robbie, clueless reader

Requests are open | Main Masterlist

[...]

The ER in the heart of the Pitt never really slept. Pain didn’t follow a schedule, and neither did the people crawling in from collapsed scaffolding, gunfire, or accidents no one could quite explain. It was all smoke, rust, and adrenaline.

She moved through it with the calm of someone who’d stopped counting emergencies. Her gloves were slick with blood from a deep gash across a foreman’s arm. The man winced, but she kept working, clean and efficient.

Jack Abbott stepped inside without a word. He didn’t need to announce himself, everyone knew when he was in the room. He stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes tracking the way she sutured with confidence, like this wasn’t the tenth patient of the night.

“Need a hand?” he asked, nodding toward the man on the cot.

“Sedative’s working. He won’t move again.”

Jack didn’t say more, just grabbed a bandage and started wrapping the cleaned area once she was done, like it was something they always did together. It wasn’t. But he made it feel like it was.

Then came the flap of the curtain being shoved aside too fast.

Dr. Robby, slightly out of breath, holding a tray of meds and his beat-up tablet, scanned the room until he saw her.

“They told me you were here,” he said, offering the meds. “Penicillin. And results from that worker with the lung infection.”

“Thanks,” she said, accepting both. She didn’t miss the way Robby’s gaze flicked to Jack or the way Jack didn’t look away.

“You eat anything yet?” Robby asked.

“Didn’t get the chance.”

“I can grab something for you—”

“She’s fine,” Jack interrupted, calm but firm. “She knows how to take care of herself.”

Robby looked over at him. “I wasn’t saying she didn’t.”

Her hands paused over the tablet. She didn’t look at either of them.

“If you two want to argue,” she said, not raising her voice, “do it somewhere that’s not my triage area.”

That shut them up. Jack left first, quiet as he came. Robby hesitated for a moment, then followed without another word.

Hours later, during one of those unofficial breaks that only happen when the bleeding stops for ten minutes, she leaned against the back wall of the ER with a paper cup of water, spine aching.

Robby passed by carrying two coffees. He stopped when he saw her.

“Got an extra. In case you still haven’t eaten.”

She took it silently, nodded. It was good. Hot. Thoughtful.

A few minutes after, Jack rounded the corner with a folder of reports in one hand and a tired look on his face.

“Need someone to help review these,” he said. “You’ve got the sharpest head in this place.”

She looked at both of them, then up toward the steel-beamed sky above the ER.

Neither said anything else.

And for now, that was enough.

[...]

From the other side of the hallway, just out of view, three nurses stood near the supply cabinet pretending to organize gauze.

“She’s got no clue,” Perlah muttered, peeking around the corner with a smirk.

“She’s too focused on keeping everyone alive,” Dana said, arms crossed. “But I give it a week. Tops.”

Princess scoffed. “A week? Please. Two days. The way Jack stares at her? And Robby bringing her coffee like it’s a love language? She’s gonna figure it out.”

“And then what?” Perlah asked. “Who do you think she picks?”

The three looked at each other, and grinned like it was the best kind of drama.

No one said anything out loud, at least not yet. But the bets were on.

And the ER, for all its blood and heartbreak, suddenly had something else running through its veins: anticipation.

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

ummm can i request jealous spencer? like reader has a boyfriend or spencer thinks she has a boyfriend and he gets all pouty. and then ... soft confession/kisses :)

feel free to ignore if it's not your cup of tea!

btw my criminal minds themed blog is @sweetheartspence !! but alas i cannot send asks from a side blog </3

thank u in advance! hope u have a wonderful day/night

Oh! This is definitely my cup of tea I love love love jealous Spencer 😋

BYR(b4 u Reid): Jealous & mean Spencer Reid :0, teasing, and a bit of fluff toward the end, along w a cute little kiss scene hehe

Jealousy | Spencer Reid

It had been a week. A week since Spencer started noticing the shift in your behavior.

You were… happier. Lighter. More willing to do things for your coworkers than before.

Staying late without complaint, grabbing an extra coffee for someone, taking an extra file without the usual dramatic sigh.

You used to roll your eyes when Morgan pawned off paperwork on you, now you just did it. No protest. No banter.

And then there were the little changes. The way you started painting your nails, the extra time you took with your makeup.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume someone was catching your attention, and truthfully he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey.” He called, catching you before you could leave the bullpen. “There’s a movie playing tonight, it’s based in the fifties, and about a serial killer who’d eat his victims. It’s supposed to be really good. Want to come with me?”

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “Aw, Spence, that does sound fun, but I can’t. I’m busy.”

“Oh.” His fingers curled around the strap of his bag, grip tightening. “No, that’s fine. What are you doing?” He asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Just… something with a friend.” You said vaguely, offering him a small smile.

A friend.

He nodded, forcing a smile. “Nice. Okay. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah.” You agreed before walking away, leaving him standing there.

And it wasn’t just him noticing the change anymore, it was the whole team.

The way you were always texting, checking your phone like you were waiting for something. For someone.

Morgan noticed first, of course.

“Someone seems pretty occupied.” His voice was laced with amusement as he watched your fingers fly over your screen.

You glanced up, blinking. “Yeah, sorry.” You muttered, locking your phone and setting it down.

“Important stuff?” Spencer asks, trying to sound casual.

You shook your head. “No not important at all.”

Morgan snorted. “Right.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” He said, smirking as he leaned back in his seat.

You didn’t buy it, but you let it go, getting up from your spot on the jet and heading toward the restroom.

The second you were gone, Morgan turned toward Spencer, grinning. “That girl is definitely hiding something.”

Spencer’s head snapped to Derek. “Yeah? Like what?” His brows raised, eyes wide.

Morgan’s smirk only grew more. “Woah. Eager, aren’t you, pretty boy?”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m just curious. Does it seem like she’s acting different? Like… someone is causing her to be like this?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re worried.”

“Worried?” Spencer scoffed. “About what?”

“That she might be seeing someone.”

Spencer sat up straighter. “I’m not worried.” He said quickly, too quickly. “Just curious. She’s my friend. Don’t you want to know?”

“Yeah, but only because I’m nosey. You, on the other hand…” Morgan tilted his head. “You want to know because you’re scared of losing her.”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Losing her? How would I lose her?”

Morgan shrugged, still grinning. “No more movie nights, no more friendly dinners, and definitely no more sleepovers. Your girl is gonna be busy with someone else.”

Spencer exhaled sharply, looking away. “She’s just my friend.”

Morgan let out a low chuckle. “Sure, pretty boy. Keep telling yourself that.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Lunch with Spencer had become a routine, quiet escape from the chaos of the BAU. Your usual spot, the same table by the window. Everything felt the same, except Spencer.

He was distracted. Off.

He couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut, the one that told him something was going on with you. Something you weren’t telling him. The past week had been filled with too many smiles at your phone, to many whispered conversations with the girls, and too many times you’d turn him down.

So he had to pry a little bit.

“So, uh…how’s everything been?” He tried to keep his voice even, but there was a nervous edge to it.

You furrowed your brows. “How’s what been?”

“Uh, life?”

You smiled, stirring your drink absentmindedly. “Oh, good. Nothing much outside of work. Just busy.” You paused. “Why?”

Spencer shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just wondering if anything has changed in your life.”

You eyed him for a second, suspicious. “Oh…okay. Well no. Not really. You?”

“No. The same. Work and home. That’s about it.”

“Nice.” You said simply

There was a beat of silence before Spencer tried again. “Can I come over tonight? I’ve been wanting to play this new game I got.”

You hesitated, glancing away. “Oh, my house? It’s kind of a mess. Maybe we can do it at yours instead?”

His grip on his fork tightened. A mess? That was the excuse? Since when did you care if he saw your place like that? Unless… you were hiding something? Someone?

Had the person you were seeing already moved in?

The thought sent a sharp, unwelcoming sting through his chest.

“Yes.” He said, a little too quickly. “My house is good. Is eight okay with you?”

You nodded, smiling. “Perfect.”

Then your phone buzzed, and before he could say anything else, you grabbed it. You didn’t just check it, you smiled at it. A real, genuine smile.

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek.

Something burned in his stomach. Jealously.

It was stupid. Irrational. He had not right to be upset. You weren’t his.

But he was upset.

“We should go back now.” He said abruptly.

You glanced at the time. “We still have some time, though.”

He clears his throat. “I’m not really feeling good.”

Your brows knit tighter in concern. “Oh. Okay.”

You don’t question it. And that made him feel worse.

Back at the office, he watched as you practically sprinted to JJ, Emily, and Penelope. The four of you huddled together, whispering, giggling.

Spencer tried to listen, straining to hear past the office noise, but all he caught were Penelope’s dramatic gasps and high-pitched “oh my gods.”

And then-

“We need to meet him.” JJ says.

Spencer could’ve fainted right there.

Meet who?

Why did they get to know, and he didn’t? He thought you were closer than that.

“Maybe Friday night?” You suggested. “We can all get together. He’d love to meet the team.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted. He.

Who the hell was he?

He felt sick.

But no one noticed the way his face fell, the way his fingers dug into his palm as he clenched his fists.

“Yes, Friday!” Penelope clapped her hands excitedly. “I’ll tell the guys! Derek loves a night out at the bar.”

“Alright, I’ll let him know.” You said, smiling at the girls before heading back to your desk.

Spencer, however, turned on his heel and walked straight to the restroom, locking himself in a stall to breathe.

By the end of the workday, he’d barely spoken to you. He wasn’t even sure he could without his feelings slipping out in some pathetic, embarrassing way.

But then you ran into him on your way out.

“Hey.” You greeted, smiling up at him. “Still up for that game?”

Spencer hesitated, shifting on his feet. His emotions were too raw, too tangled. The thought of sitting alone with you tonight, knowing Friday he was probably going to have to come face to face with that guy, made him want to crawl out of his skin.

“I, umm…” he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m still not feeling good. Maybe next time.”

Your face fell slightly, and it made his chest ache. “I can still come over and make you some soup? Or we can watch a movie?”

For a brief second, he melted. Your voice was so soft, so you. Sincere. You cared about him. But then reality him, maybe you were like this with him, too. Maybe you were sending him sweet messages, making him laugh, offering him soup when he wasn’t feeling well.

The thought made his stomach turn.

“Uh, no.” He said, voice flat. “I want to be alone.”

Something flickered across your face, something confused and a little hurt. “Oh. Okay. Well… get better. Let me know if you do want my company. I’d love to stop by.”

Spencer swallows hard. “Yeah.”

Then he turned and walked away before you could see just how much he hated this.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

By Friday everyone had noticed, Spencer was off.

His usual, quiet, awkward charm had been replaced by something sharper, something angry. He was short with everyone, but mostly with you.

“Are you okay, Spencer?” You finally asked, cautiously approaching his desk.

His eyes lifted from the case file in front of him, sharp and unreadable. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You frowned. “You’ve just been…I don’t know. Different.”

Spencer let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Me? Different?” His voice was laced with sarcasm. “Right. I’m different.”

Your brows knit together. “Did I do something?”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do. I need to focus.” His tone was clipped, dismissive.

Morgan appeared behind you, catching enough of the conversation to raise an eyebrow. “Hey man. just chill.”

“I am chill.” Spencer snapped, jaw tight. “Just both of you. Go.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re acting like a child, but fine. I’ll go.”

Morgan watched you walk off before turning back to Spencer with a disbelieving shake of his head. “Man, you’re scaring her off.”

“Why should I care?” Spencer muttered, flipping a page in his file like it didn’t matter. “She’s taken.”

Morgan scoffed. “Because she’s your friend, and she cares about you. You’re treating her like garbage.”

Spencer didn’t answer. Just clenched his jaw and stared at the file like it could somehow fix what was wrong with him.

Morgan sighed. “You’re gonna regret this, kid.” Then he walked off, leaving Spencer alone with the gnawing, unbearable feeling twisting in his gut.

Later, in the break room, Emily found you pouring yourself a coffee.

“Hey! Have you asked Spencer if he’s coming tonight?”

You sighed. “No. Honestly, I’m kind of scared to talk to him right now. He seems off.”

Emily’s lips pressed together. “Yeah, I’ve noticed too.”

“I’ll try again.” You said, exhaling “maybe he just needs time to cool off.”

Emily nodded. “Hope it goes well.”

With your coffee in hand, you made your way back through the bullpen. You passed Spencer’s desk, and once again, found the same hard expression on his face. He didn’t even look at you.

But you weren’t giving up on him.

Two hours later, you decided to try again.

You walked over and casually perched yourself on his desk, something you’d done a hundred times before. But this time, Spencer tensed. Like he wanted you off.

“Hey,” you greeted softly.

His eyes flicked up. “Hey.”

“Are you coming to the bar tonight? I’d love it if you came.”

Spencer swallowed. “I—I don’t know. Bars aren’t really my thing. You know that.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know, but someone really important is coming, and I’d love for you to meet him.”

Spencer inhaled sharply.

Important. You had to say it like that? Right to his face?

His fingers twitched against his desk. “Yeah, I-I don’t think so.”

You pouted. “Spencer, please. He’s so funny, so cool. The girls already love him, and I know you guys would. He’s such a good guy, you need to meet him.”

His entire body went rigid.

He wanted to snap. He wanted to yell. But instead, he just clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

“No.” His voice was sharp, and final.

You gave him those wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

He shook his head.

“Alright.” You sighed, standing up. “Well, if you change your mind, it’s at Rudy’s. I really want you there.”

Before leaving, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

His breath hitched.

“I’m here if you need to talk.” You murmured. Then you walked away.

And Spencer ?

He dropped his head into his hands, exhaling sharply.

He felt awful.

Why was he like this? He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t control his jealousy, the anger, the way his emotions spiraled out of control every time he thought about you with someone else.

And worst of all?

He knew he was hurting you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The bar was packed, the energy high. Everyone laughed, letting loose after a long exhausting week.

You were happy, smiling, surrounded by your team. But still, you couldn’t help but miss the one person who wasn’t there.

“He’s not coming.” JJ said gently, watching the way your smile faltered.

You sighed. “He hates me. And I don’t even know why.”

JJ shook her head. “He could never hate you. That boy practically worships the ground you walk on.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Then why does it feel like there’s nothing left for us? I should've made a move when things were good. Now it’s like… he's a different person. And I'm scared he doesn't want me.”

“Just give him time.” JJ said, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

You gave her a small smile before heading to the bar, sipping your drink.

Then.

“Can I sit?”

Your head snapped up. And there he was.

Spencer.

Your heart leapt. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming.”

He shrugged, slipping into the seat beside you. “I changed my mind, I guess.”

“Good.” You beamed. “I’m so happy.”

His eyes softened. “Uh, so where’s that guy?”

“Oh, Brian? He’s running a bit late, should be here soon through.”

Spencer exhaled, forcing a nod.

“Come on, let’s sit with the group.”

Before he could process it, you grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the booth where the team sat. His pulse kicked up at the contact.

As soon as the team saw him, a cheer erupted.

“Look who finally decided to have a life!” Penelope teased.

Spencer forced a smile, sliding into the booth beside you.

For awhile, things felt normal. Drinks flowed, conversations bounced between cases, childhood memories, and ridiculous office gossip. It was the kind of night that made you all feel less like FBI agents and more like lifelong friends.

Until.

“So, this guy we’re meeting…” Rossi drawled sipping his whiskey with an amused smile.

Spencer tensed.

You lit up. “Yes! His name is Brian! I’ve told him all about you guys, and he cannot wait to meet all of you.”

Spencer swallowed hard.

“He’s amazing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes before he could stop himself.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice his reaction.

Then, your name was called.

Spencer’s stomach dropped, this was the moment he had to come face to face with his fears.

You turned, your entire face brightening as you ran into the arms of some guy. You hugged him tightly. Held on to him like he was the best part of your night.

Spencer was sick.

“Guys, this is Brian, my best friend.” You introduced him, glancing around the group. But when your eyes landed on Spencer’s empty seat, your heart sank. He was gone. A knot formed in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

The team greeted Brian warmly, and soon, conversation flowed easily. It didn’t take long for everyone to love him, he was energetic, kind, and full of the craziest stories that had the group laughing.

“So, Brian, what made you want to move here?” Emily asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Well,” Brian grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “This girl right here told me there was a lot of cute guys out here, so I figured, why not? Hot guys and my best friend? Seemed like a no-brainer.”

He smirked, blatantly eyeing Hotch and Derek.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Derek had managed to slip away from the group, and go with Spencer who was at the bar, nursing a drink that seemed like it hadn’t been sipped on.

“Alright, pretty boy. What’s your deal?”

Spencer didn’t even look at him. “I can’t watch her be with him.”

Derek let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. “Look, man, you��re spiraling. You need to go talk to your girl. Seriously.”

“She isn’t my girl, she has a boyfriend.”

Derek rubbed his face like Spencer was exhausting him. “Quit your pouting and go talk to her. Before the night ends.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

Derek groaned and walked off, leaving Spencer with his own miserable thoughts.

He turned toward the booth again, watching you.

You were smiling and having fun but he knew when it was genuine and when it wasn’t, and right now it wasn’t.

A weight settled in his chest.

So he made his choice.

Pushing off the bar, he crossed the room, weaving through the crowd until he was in front of you.

You looked up, surprised, but your expression softened. “Spencer, you’re back.”

His voice was low. “Can we talk?”

You studied his face, concern flickering across your features before you nodded.

Without another word, he took your hand and led you somewhere quieter, somewhere just for the two of you.

You both sat down, the buzz of the teams laughter and music muffled by the distance. There was a silencer between you, not uncomfortable. You didn't say anything. You were waiting... For him.

Spencer was thinking. If the man had steam coming out of his ears, you wouldn't even be surprised.

Finally, his eyes met yours. “I’m sorry.” he said softly.

He gave your hand that was still in his a gentle squeeze, you should've pulled away because truthfully, he didn't deserve to hold it, but you couldn't.

“I’m sorry I was being a-”

“An ass?” you filled in, no hesitation.

His jaw dropped slightly at your bluntness before he sighed in surrender. “Yeah… I deserved that.”

You nodded. “You did.”

Then your voice lowered, a little more vulnerable. “What did I do, Spencer?”

His shoulders sank under the weight of your words, he couldn’t believe he made you feel like it was all your fault. “Nothing. God, you didn’t do anything.” He said. He couldn’t even look at you.

You followed his gaze and it was on Brian, so it all clicked together for you.

“Be honest.” You urged gently.

His eyes flicked to you, guilt written all over his face. “I was jealous.”

“By who?” You asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it from him.

“Brian.” He muttered, looking down at his shoes like they might offer an escape. You tilted your head. “Brian?”

You could’ve teased him. Let him stew a little more, just for the hell of it. But he already looked like he’d been spiraling all week, and the truth was, you didn’t want to see him in pain, not when you cared about him this much.

“Spencer, Brian’s not into me.” You said. His head snapped up. “How?” He asked, baffled. “You’re- you’re perfect.”

You chuckled, shoulders lifting in a little shrug. “I’m not his type.” You glanced toward the booth where Brian was now leaned in, laughing at something Derek was saying. “But I think Derek might be.”

Spencer tracked your gaze, eyes narrowing in that profiler way of his. One second. Two. He blinked.

“Oh.”

The air left his lungs in a rush, like someone had cut the string pulling his jealousy tight.

But then his brows furrowed again. “Then why have you been different lately? Happier. Dressing up. You stopped inviting me over…”

You smirked. “Didn’t know you were paying so much attention, Dr. Reid.”

He flushed.

“Brian and I moved in together. That’s why I’ve been in a better mood, I guess. It’s nice having my best friend from home close. And yeah, I’ve been putting more effort in… but that’s because I’ve been trying to get the attention of this one genius loser I work with.”

Spencer blinked. That trademark genius brain of his clearly went offline.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. “You, Spence. It’s you.”

His lips parted, like the words were there but stuck. “I-I just didn’t want to assume.”

You gave him a playful look. “Right.”

He looked lighter now, like the guilt and confusion he’d been carrying and finally lifted.

“I really like you.” He said, voice more confident now. He leaned in a little. “And I-I want to make everything up to you.”

You raised brow. “Oh yeah? How?”

He smiled nervously. “Can I take you to dinner?”

You nodded slowly, clearly enjoying watching him squirm. “I’d like that…and?”

He bit his lip, thinking. “Movies…and then we can go back to my place and play that game I was telling you about?”

You nodded. “Not bad. It’ll be perfect if you also take on a couple of my files for a month.”

He groaned but smiled. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Your guys eyes locked on each others, and you weren’t sure who leaned in first. It didn’t matter.

The moment your lips met, it was soft, hesitant, but warm. Then Spencer deepened the kiss, one hand rising to cup your jaw, his other still holding you hand tightly like he couldn’t let go. His tongue slid across your lips, and you let him in.

You guys moved in sync, like you were perfect for each other.

And like this is where you guys were supposed to be.

You kissed until the need for air pulled you apart. Both of you stared, wide-eyed, lips parted.

“I was supposed to be mad at you a little longer.” You teased, he grinned smug. “Can I kiss you again so you won’t?”

You giggled. “Maybe.”

He leaned in again. This kiss was sweeter and gentler like he had gotten all the desperate need for you out with the first kiss. Now, he just wanted to continue feeling your lips on his, even if it was just a peck.

“I can do this all night.” You tell him

“I can too.”

And with that, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s company for the rest of the night. The team didn’t interrupt or tease, they simply let you be, giving you the space to enjoy the quiet warmth between you. It was easy, comfortable, like everything had finally fallen into place…

@beeintheskies Hope you love this<3 it was so fun to write, thank you for your request!

Divider from @hyuneskkami

[channiesbakery]

doggy play date —

prompt / request — "that's not even your dog.”

pairing — reader + non idol!dokyeom

word count — 882

genre — fluff

you were a regular at the cafe seokmin worked at. he’s had a crush on you ever since you came in for the first time months ago.

today, he finally worked up the courage to ask you out. except he made a teeny tiny mistake of asking you out on a play date for your dogs instead of a date with just you.

another mistake? he doesn’t even own a dog.

“can i borrow latte?” seokmin asks soonyoung the minute he walks into his friend’s apartment. “my… dog?” soonyoung questions, unsure if he’d heard the question correctly.

“no, your cup of coffee. yes your dog!” seokmin exclaims sarcastically. “but why?” soonyoung furrows his eyebrows.

“i may or may not have set up a date with a girl i met at a cafe,” he starts to explain. “good for you man,” soonyoung grins, patting his shoulder.

“except it’s less of a date for us and more of a play date for our dogs,” seokmin finishes as soonyoung just stares at him blankly.

“so you set up a date for your nonexistent dog,” soonyoung repeats. “i know i sound insane–” seokmin starts. “I’m surprised you didn’t go buy a dog,” soonyoung says.

“can i borrow latte or not?” he sighs. “if it’ll help your love life,” soonyoung smirks a little. “but you owe me big time.” he adds.

a couple days later, you meet at the dog park, letting your dogs get acquainted while you and seokmin sat on the bench, starting to get to know each other.

you start talking about your dogs, asking him questions about latte: when he got her, why’d he choose the name latte, etc.

seokmin felt like he was sweating, trying to come up with lies to answer your questions. he felt bad for lying but he wanted to go out with you so bad that the only way he thought of bonding over you was your pets. well, your real pet and his borrowed dog.

the entire time you chatted, his brain was screaming “that’s not even your dog!!!” at him but he didn’t want to confess his stupid lie just yet.

“hey, a new cafe opened close by if you want to get a quick bite? i hear they have some dog friendly treats so our pups can have something too,” you suggest.

“that sounds like a great idea,” he agrees with a smile.

you walk to the cafe, both of your dogs walking ahead of you on their leashes. your hand brushes against his a few times and seokmin fights the urge to intertwine your fingers.

even after spending nearly two hours at the cafe, neither of you were ready to part just yet.

“you’ve got to be one of the most charming guys I’ve ever gone out with,” you laugh as you walk along the sidewalk, not really having a destination in mind.

“oh so this is a date? i thought this was just a play date for our dogs?” he teases. “you saying you don’t want this to be a date?” you gasp. “no i definitely like the idea of this being a date,” he smiles.

“so much that I’m not ready for it to end,” he admits. “well, we’re not too far from my place… how about a drink? i don’t think latte’s ready to say goodbye either,” you nod towards the two dogs walking ahead.

the dogs run off as soon as you take their leashes off in your apartment while you lead seokmin to your living room.

he takes a seat on your couch while you step into the kitchen to grab two beers.

your conversations continue naturally, your topics going all over the place. neither of you notice it but you keep moving closer to each other.

seokmin brushes a stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. his eyes glance down at your lips before you lean in, waiting for him to close the gap.

his lips move softly against yours, his hand cradling the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he hears a bark from the other room, he suddenly remembers what led to his current position.

“okay i really need to confess something before this goes any further,” seokmin sighs, pulling away from your lips.

“uh oh. are you gonna tell me you’re a serial killer?” you tease. “okay it’s not that bad,” he chuckles. “so what’s the confession?” you hum.

“latte isn’t exactly… mine,” he says and you’re silent for a second. “oh my god, you kidnapped a dog? that might be worse than a serial killer,” you gasp.

“what? no! no, no! i didn’t kidnap her, I’m just borrowing her!” he quickly exclaims. “i’ve kinda had a crush on you for months and i fucked up when i asked you out only to make it a play date for our dogs,” he explains sheepishly.

“except you don’t have a dog, apparently,” you say, clearly amused with the situation. “i know, i know. i fucked up,” he sighs.

“it’s okay, i forgive you,” you hum, leaning in close again. “i kinda have a crush on you too. besides, you kidnapped a dog just to take me out on a date,” you tease, kissing him as he groans.

“i didn’t kidnap her!”

[ferrarifudds]

hiiii!! could u please write one where Charles has a crush on a girl who owns a small coffee shop in Monaco and he's never really had the courage to ask her out yet but Leo kinda acts as his wingman when Charles just got him? lmao, thank u sm! also, i adore ur writing <33

Coffee. ✷ Charles Leclerc

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x CafeOwner!reader

Summary: When Leo Leclerc decides to be a chaotic little wing man for his dad.

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer/s: fluffff! ^_^ leo feature slay

Vera’s Voice! loved this request to death so had to get to it immediately. but!!! will be getting to my other requests soon!!! promise ^_^ thank u for requesting!!!! mwah! hope u enjoy!

The mornings in Monaco always held a quiet charm, a soft blend of sunlight bouncing off the pristine waters and the gentle hum of life waiting to stir.

For you, mornings meant the comforting clink of ceramic little tea cups, or the bittersweet aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. And the hum of your small cafe shop nestled along a cobblestone street just off the harbor was perfect.

It wasn’t grand or luxurious, but it was yours—as place as perfect as you, called La Petite Matin.

The regulars made the place feel like home. Businessmen grabbing espressos, elderly couples sharing croissants, and the occasional curious tourist wandering in off the beaten path.

But none of them made your heart skip quite like Charles Leclerc.

The first time he walked in, you didn’t even register it was him. Your brain was too preoccupied with the morning rush, juggling orders and making sure the almond croissants didn’t burn.

It wasn’t until he was standing in front of you, all tall and handsome with that devastatingly soft smile, that it clicked.

“Bonjour,” He greeted, glancing at the handwritten menu above the counter. “Ehhmm..” He studied the contents before finally making a choic. “Could I get a cappuccino?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then stared, trying not to make it obvious that the guy from the posters on your cousin’s bedroom wall was standing in your shop, asking for coffee like he wasn’t Charles Leclerc.

“O—Of course,” You stammered, nearly letting out a nervous giggle as you fumbled to grab a cup.

That had been three months ago.

Since then, he had become a regular. On any morning he wasn’t traveling for races, he’d show up at precisely 8:30 AM, lean against the counter like he had all the time in the world, and flash you a smile that made your pulse stutter.

At first, it was overwhelming—serving coffee to one of Monaco’s most famous faces. But you quickly learned that Charles wasn’t anything like you’d expected.

He was easygoing, funny, and oddly humble for someone whose face was plastered across billboards. He’d ask about your day, tell you stories about his week, and even joke about how he probably should be ordering green smoothies instead of croissants.

What you didn’t know was that Charles wasn’t just coming for the coffee.

He was coming just to see you.

It was a warm and golden Tuesday morning when he walked in, but this time, he wasn’t alone.

He waved at you as he pushed the door open with one hand and holding a leash in the other. Trailing behind him was a small dachshund, its tiny legs moving at lightning speed as it padded into the shop.

You looked over the counter. “Bonjour!” You smiled. “And who’s this little guy?”

“Leo,” Charles said, crouching to unclip the leash and picking the animal up. “He’s… well, he’s quite the handful.”

Leo wagged his tail furiously, barking once in what could only be described as a hello. You leaned over to greet him, your heart melting as he pressed his nose against your hand that pet him.

“He’s adorable,” You said, scratching behind his ears. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

Charles shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. “I don’t usually bring him out, but I figured he’d like to finally meet you.”

You froze for a second, glancing up at him. His expression was casual, but there was something in his tone that made your stomach flip.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Leo,” You said, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

As Charles ordered his usual cappuccino, you gave him the okay to let Leo trot around the shop. The mini dachshund sniffed the furniture and charmed the few customers sitting by the windows.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he stopped in front of the display case, staring longingly at the pastries inside.

“Hmm,” You teased, handing Charles his beverage. “Think he’s saying you should get a treat with your cappuccino today.”

“Oh, he’s already convinced me,” Charles replied with a grin.

Before you could respond, Leo made his move. The little dog bolted toward the counter. He leapt up on his hind legs, paws resting on the wood as he barked.

“Leo!” Charles scolded, but there was no real heat in his voice.

“It’s okay,” You said, laughing as you leaned again to pet him. But just as you reached out, Leo darted to the side—right into the shelf of to-go cups.

With a crash, the cups tumbled to the floor, scattering across the tiles.

“Oh my,” You gasped with a laugh, hurrying around the counter.

Charles was already crouched down, gathering the cups as Leo sat innocently beside him, tail wagging like he hadn’t just caused chaos.

“I swear he’s not usually like this,” Charles said, shooting you an apologetic look.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” You assured him, though you were fighting back laughter. “Honestly, it’s kind of impressive. He’s got a lot of energy for such little legs.”

Charles chuckled, stacking the cups in his arms. But as he stood up, something slipped out of his pocket—a small scrap of paper.

You bent down to grab it before he could, your eyes catching the familiar curve of your own handwriting.

It was one of the notes you wrote with his coffee cups.

You’d started the habit a few weeks ago, jotting down little messages like Good luck today! or Hope this makes your morning better. You’d never expected him to keep them.

“I—” Charles began, his ears turning pink. “I meant to throw that away. I’m not a stalker, I swear.”

You bit back a smile, holding the note out to him. “You kept this?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Y—Yes… It was a nice message. And, uh… I’ve actually kept a few others.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as you stared at him, suddenly noticing the nervous energy radiating off him. For a guy who drove at 300 kilometers per hour for a living, Charles seemed unusually flustered.

“I like the notes,” He admitted, his voice softer now. “And I like coming here.” A pause.

“And sometimes, not just for the coffee.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Then, as if sensing the tension, Leo barked again—loud and insistent.

Charles groaned. “Leo, not helping.”

But you were already smiling, warmth blooming in your chest.

“Well,” You said, tucking the note back into his hand, “I’m glad you like the coffee. And the notes.”

Charles met your eyes, his nervousness melting into something softer, more genuine.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime? With us—or I mean, just me. Not Leo. Unless you want him to come too.”

You laughed, feeling a giddy kind of lightness. “I’d love to. But maybe just us for the first date?”

He grinned, his relief palpable. “Yeah, just us. That sounds perfect.”

As you scribbled your number on a napkin and handed it to him, Leo barked one last time, wagging his tail like he’d just sealed the deal.

“Guess I owe him a treat then,” Charles said, tucking the napkin into his pocket.

“Definitely,” you replied, your smile widening.

“Best wingman I’ve ever met.”

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!!! ^_^ & please LMK if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!! mwah!!!!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

[jiniretracha]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight smut (piv!)

Summary: Felix Lee makes a bet with his co-workers in which he had to make a woman fall in love with him within 10 days, but he picks the wrong woman, who's working on an article for the magazine she works for called 'How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days' and she had chosen him as his prey. Based on one of my comfort movies: How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003).

Word Count: a whooping amount of 13.2k

PS: this is an old fic of mine from my old ao3 account (that i don't use anymore lol), i rewrote it with Lix instead. You can check it out here. Also, i proofread this but i don't trust myself that much so, if you see any mistake, feel free to let me know pls.

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi

Day 1

“I’m going back to bed, I have no reason to live”

“Oh Karina! Come on. Get up, I’m not gonna let you lose your job over a stupid guy” you said.

Karina laid in bed, tears both fresh and dried on her cheeks, heartbroken over a guy she met, fell in love with and then told her he didn’t want anything serious. 

“Oh, oh Y/N” Karina said, hugging you. 

“You only dated the guy for a week” You reminded her in a whisper. 

“It was the best week of my life, Y/N. He was perfect” she sniffled. 

You sighed and pulled away from the hug. “Come on. I’m sure Seulgi yelling at us because we didn’t write the article like she wanted us to will bring you back to reality and will make you forget about the douche you dated” you said with a smile, making her chuckle.

You helped her get dressed and then got in a taxi to the Composure offices, where you, Karina and your other best friend, Ryujin worked. Composure was a ‘girly or gay’ magazine, as everyone liked to call it, created by Kang Seulgi, where you could find either the latest trend in fashion, the Kardashians latest fake scandal or how to catch men like Harry Styles. You found all the articles that were written in the magazine a little bit sexist, you studied journalism to become a real one, not a gossip writer for a cheap magazine. But it was a job that gave you a certain status, you couldn’t complain. 

When you arrived at the Composure offices, you opened the door of the cab for Karina, who held a couple of tissues in her hand. She blew her nose and got surprised by Ryujin who was holding a cup holder with 3 newly ordered coffees from Starbucks. “Hey honey” Ryujin winced when she saw Karina state.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it okay?” she smiled through the pain, making you and Ryujin nod. 

You got inside the big building and pressed the button that led to the Composure floor. 

Karina broke down and leaned her head on the elevator wall. “Why? Why does this always happen to me? I get this great guy, and everything’s amazing for a week and a half, and suddenly, it’s over and I’m mystified!” she cried. 

The people inside the elevator were looking at the girl with furrowed eyebrows and you glared at them, making them look the other way.

“Mingyu and I had such a connection” she gushed over him. “Like-like the first time we had sex, it was so beautiful. I even cried” she said.

You pressed your lips together, suddenly very aware of the people inside the elevator. “You mean like, shed a tear, wiped it with a finger. Right?” 

“No, I was very emotional. I even told him that I loved him” she explained, with a shake of her head.

“After how many days?” Ryujin asked sipping on her coffee to hide her grimace.

“Five” she said and then looked the other way. “Two”

You and Ryujin sighed loudly.

“But… I just felt like he needed to know” she said. 

“Well, what did he say?” you asked.

Karina sighed. “He didn’t have to say anything. I knew he felt the same as me” she smiled and then she frowned. “But then he started getting really busy… I didn’t know where he was at times. I kept calling him, calling him and calling but he was never home!”

“You kept calling him?” You asked, wincing.

“Well he wasn’t answering” she defended herself. “Plus he didn’t know it was him, my number was blocked”

“Oh sweetie” Ryujin said. “I’m sure he thought it was one of his friends”

The elevator dinged and you got out, Ryujin and Karina following behind. 

“Rina, honey. You do realize you were way too pretty for him? I mean, you were like Kaia Gerber when she was dating Pete Davidson!” you explained. “You need to be in a relationship like Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly, you can’t decide which one is hotter” 

Karina huffed. “Maybe but… for me, he was really handsome. And cute. Ugh, he was perfect” she said and a few tears slipped from her cheek.

“No, wait. Don’t cry honey. What Y/N and I want to say is that you need to realize that if this guy didn’t like you for who you were, then screw him” Ryujin explained. 

“Yeah, but I know why he dumped me. I’m too fat” 

“You’re not fat!” both you and Ryujin said.

As you climbed up the stairs to get to your respective offices you sighed. “Okay, Rina, look. Even if the most beautiful girl in the world acted the way you did, a normal guy would still be running in the other direction” you said, as your friends followed behind you. 

“No guy would be running away from you, Y/N” Karina said. “I mean, you could barf all over him and he’d say, “Thank you, can you please do it again?”” she said, making you laugh.

“Okay, that is absolutely disgusting and totally not true!” you laughed at her metaphor. “Cause if I did the things you did, I’d get dumped too. Anyways, enough with this Mingyu bullshit. I got two tickets for the Knicks game for tomorrow that Ryujin got from his cousin, and since you’re the only one available, you could join me, maybe?”

“Nah thanks, I’d like to sit in my misery for a couple more days” Karina sighed. 

The three of you got inside Seulgi’s office along with other co-workers. 

“Alrighty, family. What do we got for the next issue?” Seulgi asked.

Ryujin raised her hand. “As you asked, I got the latest The Bachelor drama covered, and I also answered a few of the questions users asked us on the website”

Seulgi nodded. “Great work, Ryujin. What about How-To with Y/N?”

You smiled. “I worked on something different and completely new for the issue. It’s uh… a political piece--”

“--Y/N. You work for Composure magazine. Not Forbes” Seulgi said sternly. “We are fashion, drama, gossip, cosmetic surgeries, you name it. That’s what Composure is about”

“Yeah, I know but--”

“Y/N, you writing in the column is new for you, I get it. But you’re working for me , and until I decide when you are going to write whatever you want, you write whatever I want. Okay?”

“Yeah” you nodded, looking at your skirt, not wanting to look Seulgi in the eyes. 

“Karina, what do you got?” Seulgi sighed.

She lifted her head and paled. “I…Uh… sorry, Seulgi. I wasn’t feeling very well” Karina said.

“She got dumped” Ryujin quickly filled in, earning a glare from Karina. 

“Oh, no… Karina. It must be feeling hellish for you these past few days, but I must say you’re looking gorgeous” Seulgi complimented. “Doesn’t she?” she asked and everyone nodded, complimenting her. 

Karina sighed. “I haven’t been eating since the split”

“Good for you! Write about it” Seulgi said. Ryujin and you looked at each other and grimaced. 

“I can’t use my personal life as a story” she said, her voice small.

Seulgi smiled. “I understand completely. Who will use Karina’s story for their article?” she asked suddenly. 

“No, no, no. Wait, Seulgi. With all due respect no one has business here using my story for an article in a magazine, I’m sorry but--”

“I’ll do it” you said suddenly, an idea clicking in your mind. 

“What?” Karina looked at you. 

“I-I’ll sort of do it. You’ll be my inspiration” you said. “Like, look at Karina. She’s a great girl, right?” you asked, and Seulgi nodded with a curt yes and nodded for you to continue. “An amazing woman. But… she has a problem hanging onto relationships. No offense. And probably, doesn't know what she’s doing wrong, like it could happen to our readers. So, my idea was that I could start dating this guy and then drive him away but only using these common mistakes like girls like Rina or our readers commit all the time. I’ll even… keep a diary of it and it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse”

Karina smiled at you and Seulgi clapped her hands together. “What not to do. Brilliant!” 

“Yeah”

“How to lose a guy in 10 days” Seulgi said. “Loved it, go. Now Sunoo, what’s the shoe story you wanted--”

“I’m sorry, Seulgi. Ten days? Why ten days?” you asked.

Her eyebrows arched. “Well, I figured 5 days is too short and we go to press in 11, so…” she said. 

Karina and Ryujin gave you thumbs up, making you smile at them, but innerly wondering how the hell would you manage to do this in only ten days.

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

Felix Lee arrived at his office, parking his motorbike and taking off his helmet. As always, earning smiles and flirtatious looks from the ladies in the streets, but he loved the attention. 

Working as a publicity chief had its perks. You could share an office with your best friends and have an assistant that brings you lunch or whatever you want, but it also had its drawbacks like having a boss who’s riding your ass. That was Felix’s case. 

Felix got inside the building and into his office. “What’s up, Hyunjinnie?” he said.

Hyunjin looked up from his computer and smirked. “Oh, hey, Lix”

Jisung, his other best friend, got inside with a worried look. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what? About the Knicks game tomorrow? I did, and it’s pretty terrible, cause I didn’t get the tickets--”

Jisung sighed. “Not about the Knicks game. De Lauer diamonds is looking for a new ad agency and Mr. Park wants to move it aggressively”

“Yes!” Felix smiled. “Yes! This is a good day. Guys, did you know that diamonds are as common as taxis on Fifth Avenue?” he asked while taking his shirt off, and grabbing his dress shirt from the desk. The women in the office every day went crazy whenever he came in with a normal, regular shirt and changed it for a formal one. “The value is entirely sentimental… but we do have game in what we do the best. Advertising. So, my point is--” he said while buttoning his shirt up. “De Lauer owns the diamond market, meaning, if I represent them, I basically own everyone’s ass in the industry” he smiled.

Hyunjin sighed. “That’s the thing, Mr. Park already gave it to the Chaeyoung’s”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. Son Chaeyoung and Park Chaeyoung were his number 1 competitors inside the publicity business. “No way!”

“Yeah, it kind of makes sense when you have a pair of hot leggy chicks and we’re the beer and sneakers division, you know?” Hyunjin said. 

“No way, I’ll have this deal” Felix said.

Jisung and Hyunjin stepped in his way. “No, Mr. Park is on a plane right now, business meeting. He’s having dinner with the Chaeyoung’s tonight”

“Where?”

“At Yu Bar” Jisung said and Hyunjin nodded. 

“That fancy shithole? I’ll crash there and claim what’s ours guys. This will be my pitch, my account, my campaign, my baby. I make the rules now” he smirked. 

“It’s kind of hard when you have a millionaire right above your ass but we get your point bro, we’re with you” Hyunjin said with a shrug. 

“Hell yeah” Jisung smiled. 

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

After work, you and the girls prepared yourselves to set a trap for the guy you were going to use for this ‘How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days’. 

You put on your best dress and put the plan in action, heading to Yu Bar, Karina’s parents restaurant. 

“I don’t think this will work, Y/N” Karina said with a frown walking down the street.

“Of course it will work, Rina. Just watch me hook a guy with my charms, like woo him a little that will make him want to see me again and then tomorrow I’ll pull the switch and make him nuts” you explained with ease. 

“Please tell me you’re not gonna burn down his apartment or bite him, are you?” Ryujin asked. 

You laughed at her comment. “No, I’m gonna limit myself to doing everything girls do that make men run off” you shrugged. “That means being clingy, needy--”

“Touchy-feely” Ryujin added and you nodded. “Oh, call him in the middle of the night just to tell him everything you had to eat that day” she smirked devilishly. 

“What’s wrong with that?” Karina asked, making you and Ryujin stop dead in your tracks. “I’m kidding”

You got inside Yu Bar and Karina gave a wink to the man guarding the door, letting him know they had free access to eat. 

“Well, Ryujin and I will grab a couple of drinks, in the meantime, you go search for a man that could easily fall for your trap” Karina said and grabbed Ryujin’s hand, guiding her to the bar. 

You nodded and looked around. Let’s get the plan started, you smirked to yourself. 

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

Mr. Park arrived at Yu Bar with the Chaeyoung’s behind him. 

“Hello Felix. What a surprise seeing you here” he said, surprised to see the freckled blonde sitting on the table he exclusively reserved for him and the Chaeyoung’s. 

The girls behind him scowled at the intrusive blonde, and he winked at them.

“Hello, Mr. Park. How’s it going?” he smirked, standing to shake the man’s hand. “Son, Park” he nodded to them. 

“I’m great, but what are you doing here?” he asked with a shake of his head, confused at the situation.

He sat down. “Well, I’m here for the meeting. I know I wasn’t invited but I should’ve. It was my tip De Lauer was shopping for a new firm” he smirked at the girls. 

“Yes, it was. But I was thinking about who suits best within the company” Mr. Park said.

“And that’s me” Felix said confidently. 

“Felix, I know you sell blow pretty well. But these ladies sell luxury faster than anyone” He said.

The blonde sighed, irritated to hear how his boss was complimenting his worst enemies. 

“We’re here to sell diamonds, mostly women. Because let’s face it. Women love diamonds and if we can make them seem appealing to them then boom” the freckled man said. “Selling a diamond to a woman is like making her fall in love. Like talking about head-over-heels in love, his-and-her towels, let’s grow old together, L-O-V-E, love” he explained. The Chaeyoung’s were giving him a strange look. “Look, I love women. I do. I respect them, and listen to them. And that’s why I can sell myself to any woman, anytime, any day, anywhere” he said.

“Make a woman fall in love with diamonds or with you, Felix?” Son Chaeyoung asked. 

Felix was taken aback with the question. “Either way… I’m pretty confident” he said. 

“I’d like to see you prove that” Park Chaeyoung challenged.

“Oh, you would?” 

She laughed. “The agency is co-hosting a party for the De Lauers at the museum. The party is in a week from sunday. Think you can make a woman fall in love with you by then?” Park Chaeyoung asked. 

Felix’s eyes narrowed and smiled a little. “Ten days?”

“Any woman, anytime, anywhere?” Son Chaeyoung chimed in.

“Yeah well, any woman, who’s single, straight and available, yeah” he said. 

Park Chaeyoung smirked. “Then it’s settled. I’ll choose a woman from this bar. Anyone. And then you decide”

Felix turned around with a smirk. “So, who’s the lucky girl?” 

Son Chaeyoung recognized you from the Composure offices as she was friends with both Mr. Park and Kang Seulgi. “Her” she pointed at you with an evil smirk.

Felix turned around and saw you. His heart fluttered a little bit when he saw you throwing your head back in a laugh with a drink in your hands, facing your friend Karina. He smiled and nodded. “Done”

“What?”

“Done. You’re on” he nodded at Son Chaeyoung. “You both are. But here are the stakes” he specified, making Mr. Park’s eyebrows arch. “After I win this bet, the pitch is mine”

“Agreed” Son Chaeyoung said.

“Mr. Park?”

“Agreed” he said. “You come to that party with a girl that’s really in love with you, Felix, and you can make the pitch to the De Lauers.”

The Chaeyoung’s looked at each other and sighed. 

“To the De Lauers” Mr. Park said, raising a toast to the four of them. 

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

“Okay guys, this is not going as I thought it would. I charmed my way with two guys in ten minutes. The first one was gay, and the second one was married.” you sighed, dropping your ass on the stool. “Saw the fucking ring on his finger and the wallpaper on his phone”

Ryujin rubbed your arm. “You’ll find him. Don’t worry. Here’s your Manhattan” she said, handing you the drink. 

You noticed that your purse was not with you and you slapped yourself on the forehead. “Shit, I forgot my purse on the other side of the bar. I’ll be right back” you said, hopping off the stool. 

You made your way to where the purse was, and grabbed it. You were about to walk to where your friends were until a blonde, handsome, freckled, and sexy guy was standing right in front of you. Your eyes widened. 

“Hi” he said.

“Hi” you said, looking him up and down, while he did the same. “Y/N Y/L/N” you said and stretched your hand out. 

He smiled and took it. “Felix Lee” 

“Cute”

“Thank you” he said smugly.

You scoffed. “I meant your name” 

“Thank you two times”

“Unattached?” you asked. 

“Currently” he nodded, sipping his drink. 

“Likewise”

“Surprising” he said. 

“Psycho?”

“Rarely” he said and you hummed. “Interested?”

“Perhaps” you played hard to get.

“Hungry?”

“Starved actually” you said, twirling your hair with a finger.

“Leaving” he said confidently.

“Now?”

“Yep”

“Okay” you nodded. “Let me get my stuff then, Felix Lee” 

“I’ll meet you at the door” he said, and walked up to the entrance with a smile on his lips. 

You walked up to Karina and Ryujin and squealed. “Guys, I think I got one” you said.

“But he was married” Karina protested.

You laughed. “No, not him. The cute blonde who’s waiting at the door with the leather jacket” 

Ryujin peeped from just above your head and gasped. “Holy cow. He’s really cute”

“I’m gonna check if he’s a keeper. He promised he wasn’t psycho, though” you said, grabbing your purse. “I’m doing this for you. Bye guys”

You walked through the crowd until you reached Felix, who put a hand on your back and led you outside. You walked up to a car that was right by the entrance, thinking it was his until he grabbed your hand and led you to a motorcycle parked right next to it. 

You scoffed. “I… a bike?” you stammered.

“Yep. Here, I use the black one, and you the goofy-looking white helmet” he said, handing you the helmet with a smile. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You always pick up girls like this? Cause I’m telling you it is not charming at all” you said, laughing.

“Come on Y/N Y/L/N” he said, and you grabbed the helmet putting it on your head. He then let out a cute giggle and knocked on the helmet with his knuckles softly.  “Beautiful”

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

After you grabbed food, you headed to his apartment. He dropped his stuff on the kitchen table and offered to take off his jacket that was clinging to your shoulders. 

“So, I never got to ask you this but uh… what do you exactly do for a living? Cause let me tell you, this is a great apartment” you said, looking around.

“I’m in advertising” he said, putting the coat on the hanger beside the door. “I work mostly with alcoholic beverages and athletic companies, and now our big break is with jewelry companies” he said, turning around to face you.

“Huh. That’s pretty good. I love it”

“You?” he asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge. 

“I work at Composure” you said, grabbing the bottle he offered to you. 

His eyebrows raised at that. “Wow, fastest selling women's magazine in the US, that’s amazing” he smiled at you. “What do you write about? How to save a shopaholic’s life?”

You gasped. “Oh, wow. Calm down, sparky. I got a journalism degree from Columbia, thank you very much. My boss loves me and if I kiss her ass a little more, I will write about whatever the hell I want” you said proudly, sipping on your newly opened beer. 

“Like shoes- Ow” he said, his comment earning a punch. He laughed and rubbed his shoulder.

“No, smarty pants. I want to write about politics. Or… alcoholic beverages and athletic gear” you teased and he laughed. 

Felix smiled. “You’re mean. Do you bite?”

“Sometimes. I can if you want me to, freckles” you said with a glint in your eyes, that made his darken. 

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go to my room?” he asked. “You know, it’s pretty much… comfy there”

You smirked. “Yeah, let me go to the bathroom, real quick”

You walked to the bathroom and locked yourself in there, stifling your laugh. You caught this playboy-like guy who was too cocky for his own good. You dialed Ryujin’s number and looked at yourself in the mirror. 

“Are you at his apartment? I can’t believe you, Y/N!” Ryujin squealed.

“Yes, yes. I got him”

“You’re not gonna sleep with him are you?” Karina asked. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, Rina. I have self-control. Unlike other people”

Karina gasped. “That was mean. That hurt”

Meanwhile, Felix lit some candles and put them in his room, smirking at himself. 

“You have to take down notes. Remember the article” Ryujin said.

“Yeah, I know, Ryu. I gotta go. I’ll text you guys the details then. Bye” you said and pressed the red button, finishing the call and straightening up your dress. This was going to be fun. 

You got out of the bathroom and took in his room, all lit by candles while a slow R&B song was playing in the background. 

“Wow, this is impressive” you said, grabbing the beer you had left on the stand. 

He sat on the chest of drawers he had and patted the empty space. You smiled and sat down next to him, dropping your purse next to you and sipping on your beer. You two stayed in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, until you got bored of it, and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

He let you for a couple of seconds until he pulled his head back a little with a groan. “Wait, let’s not go too fast” he whispered. 

Your heart sank. He’s not as easy as I thought. Blinking several times, you nodded, fake blushing, trying to guilt-trip him into kissing you. 

You tried to take a sip from your beer but he pushed it away and kissed the breath out of you. He made you stand up, your kiss never breaking. Wrapping your arms around him, you opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue. You felt the control slipping from your fingers and pulled away.

“We’re moving too fast” you panted against his lips. 

He nodded but you kissed him again, and he followed your lead. The kiss was hungry and he grabbed your ass, making you moan a little loud against his lips. His hands dropped to your thighs, lifting you up a little and you both dropped on the bed. Felix grabbed your leg, caressing the skin there, gripping your flesh and it made you both pull away at the same time.

“Too fast” you said in unison. 

You both sat up and looked at each other. 

“We respect each other right?“ You asked.

“If you respect me, I respect you”

“Good” you said, and dropped a kiss on his lips. 

A few minutes later, your cab arrived and you walked down the street opening the door of the taxi. You heard someone whistling and you looked up, seeing Felix in his balcony, smirking at you. 

He waved at you and you waved back.

“Ah, you are already falling in love with me” he said, pushing his tongue against the inner side of his cheek.

You smiled from down the street and blew him a kiss. “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead. Poor guy”

And then you were gone, and he was back in his apartment. He turned around and bit his lip, noticing that you (purposely) forgot your purse on his chest of drawers.

“Smart girl” he said, with a nudge of his head.

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

Day 2

Felix dropped the purse on his office desk. Hyunjin and Jisung sat studying the bag, their eyes running all over the leather object.

“Have you looked inside of it?” Hyunjin asked.

He shook his head. “No, I waited to be with you so you could give me advice on how to play my next move” Felix said, sitting down on his chair.

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Dude you’re the expert with chicks here”

“I know. But you think she’ll bother if I put my hands inside her purse?” he asked, sipping on his coffee.

Hyunjin tried to grab it but ended up throwing it to the floor and all the things inside spilled on the floor. Jisung smacked the back of his head, making the elder grumble and rub the sore spot. 

“Great job, knobhead” Felix said and the three guys kneeled down to check the things inside your purse. “Wait guys” he said as he looked at a white envelope. “What’s this?” he asked, opening it and he took out two Knicks game tickets. 

His eyes widened and so did his friends’. 

“She’s so hot. I don’t even have to see her face to know she is” Hyunjin said, clenching his eyes.

“That she is. But she’s also a smart little shit. She wanted me to find them” Felix said smugly, getting up and dropping them on his desk.

Jisung’s eyebrows arched. “Felix, you guys met when she had already her purse with her”

Felix didn’t pay him attention and smirked.

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

Meanwhile, your office was full of white roses, and you gasped looking at the scene. Ryujin next to you laughed. “Okay, what did you give him? A love spell?”

“What the hell is this?” you asked. 

Karina searched the flowers for a card and found one, and read it out loud. “One hundred times more beautiful than a hundred roses. Where the fuck do you find these guys?”

You laughed and felt your heart flutter. No, wait. This was all planned. You rolled your eyes at yourself. “He works in advertising, of course he had to give me flowers with a catchy pick up line” 

Ryujin laughed. “You think?”

You gasped. “This means he found the Knicks tickets” you said. Karina gasped. “I’m mean, I know. I’ll call him”

Just before you could dial his number, your phone rang. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, Composure offices” you said, knowing it was him.

Felix put the phone on speaker and gave his friends a smug smile. “Hey, hey pretty girl. Received my flowers?”

You sighed. “I did. I got now a really embarrassing display of roses in my office” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk on your face. 

Felix laughed. “You are welcome, I had a really good time last night” he said charmingly. “I have your bag”

“Oh, I know. I forgot it. Such a klutz” you said, your friends stifling their laughs with their hands. 

Felix sighed. “Well, you must need it back. You know, all the cash, credit cards… Knicks game tickets for tonight” he taunted. His friends gave him a thumbs up.

You fake gasped. “You are a very bad boy, Mr. Lee. You’ve been peeking through my bag! Haven’t they taught you manners?”

He scoffed. “No, absolutely not. My art director and pal Hyunjin, who’s such a dumbass, knocked it over by accident” he said and kicked Hyunjin’s leg without even looking at him.

“Ow! Yeah, I’m a dumbass, sorry” he said, wincing.

“Alright. I’m sorry, though. I’m going with someone else to the game. 

Felix smirked. “Well, not anymore. You forgot your bag by ‘accident’? You obviously wanted me to go to the game. You just didn’t know how to ask. But save the begging, pretty girl, I’ll go with you”

You gasped internally. Cocky, you mouthed to your friends. “You are so full of yourself, tell me. Does that psychobabble work with everybody?” you asked, leaning forward on your desk. 

“You tell me”

“You are so mean” Karina whispered.

You pressed your lips together, pretending to think about it. “Alright, you win, handsome. Meet me at the seventh avenue entrance. Don’t be late”

“You got it. Bye bye”

“Bye” you said and hung up the phone. 

Ryujin and Karina let their laugh out. “He’s dead” Ryujin said.

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

It was Knicks night and you and Felix were sitting very close to the court. He was in awe. 

You and Felix booed, cheered, yelled and clapped, you were both ecstatic. 

An hour later, the game was about to end, the team calling for a 20-second-time and break began. That meant that the fan cams were on. It was time for the kissing cam and you both laughed at the couples kissing. You gasped when the camera pointed at both you and Felix and laughed, looking at each other. 

You patted your cheek but he quickly grabbed your neck and planted a heavy kiss on your mouth. The crowd erupted in cheers as the kiss grew hotter and you pulled away, with a red face. He sat there licking his lips, proud of your reaction. 

The break time was finished and the game began once again. An idea popped in your head.

“Lixie, babe?” you asked with a pouty face.

He didn’t even look at you. “What-what?” he asked.

“I’m kind of thirsty, Lix” you whined. 

“Yeah okay” he said and continued cheering on the team.

You frowned and sighed. “Felix, can you get me a soda? I’m parched” you whined. 

Felix couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She wants a soda right now? Just when the game’s ending? “I’ll get it right after the game, baby” he said, glancing at you.

“I’m really thirsty” you smiled at him with a little pout and he looked at you. “I’ll get it” with a sigh, you mumbled. 

He made you stop. “No, hang on. I’ll get it” he sighed and ran quickly to the shop, up the stairs. 

Felix ran to the shop and asked for a coke. When he finally got it, he went back to the bleachers. 

“Here” he said, handing it to you and quickly stretching up his neck to see what he missed. 

You took a sip and pretended to gag. “Ugh, Felix. I forgot. I wanted a diet coke. Not regular” you whined. 

Felix looked at you and you noticed he was very irritated. He pursed his lips furiously. “I’ll- Wait a second” he said and got back to the shop, right after, the crowd started counting from 5 to 0.

When the player scored, Felix missed by a few seconds on the shop TV. Everyone cheered and he stood there, watching the TV furiously. Felix kicked an empty soda cup on the floor angrily. He had missed the most important part of the game.

Once they were out of Madison Square Garden, you grabbed onto Felix’s arm and sighed. “What an exciting game, dude” you said with a smile. “I’ve never had so much adrenaline in my body, let me tell you”

Felix sighed. “Yep, pretty good game” he said. 

“Oh, too bad you missed it” you said with a cheeky smile and stopped a cab. He bit his lips and let out a little smile. She’s lucky she’s cute, he thought.

The cab stopped and he opened the door for you. You stood watching him. “So… I’ll see you later, huh?” you asked. 

He nodded. “I hope so” 

You smiled and handed him the soda cup. He kissed you holding your waist and then when he pulled away, he winked at you. You got inside the car and closed the door. 

Felix stood there watching the cab speed off. “Nice” he said, drinking the rest of the soda.

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

Day 3

Felix was in a business meeting when his assistant peeked in and knocked. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Park. But Mr. Lee has an important call” she said with a wince.

He nodded. “Leave them a message, Yunjin please” Felix told her.

“It’s Y/N, Mr. Lee” she smiled.

He looked at Mr. Park for permission, and he sighed, nodding. “Make it quick”

Felix grabbed the phone and hit the accept call button. 

“Hello?”

“It’s me! Baby!” You squealed.

“Uh, I’m in a business meeting right now, babe. I can’t call you now. Can I call you later, though?” he offered. 

“It’s just that I miss you so much, baby-boo-boo-boo” you said with a baby voice. Ryujin and Karina were next to you and were holding onto each other, trying not to cackle.

“Well I miss you too” he said, with a smile, trying to ignore the baby voice.

“You busy tonight?” 

“Uh, I’m not. Can we catch a movie or something? You can pick if you want” he said. “The cinema on the fourth is making a retro movie night” he said.

“A movie? My choice?” you squealed.

“Yeah”

“I’m so excited! I’ll call you later then, Lixie-Boo” you said.

“Bye, hon” he said, and hung up. A little smile was playing on his lips. “I think this is working, ladies and gentlemen” he yelled and clapped his hands, making Mr. Park shake his head with a little chuckle. 

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

Movie night was on and the one you had picked was the most cringey you could find in retro-movie night: You’ve Got Mail.

You were eating popcorn and while you were enjoying the movie, you needed him to get irritated by your comments. “I always wanted a man like Tom Hanks” you said. “This is like my favorite movie of all time” you lied.

“Yeah me too” he said. You stopped eating. Shit, you thought, bad movie choice. 

Someone shushed you from behind your seats and you kept quiet. 

You bit your lip. “What are you thinking about?” you digged.

Felix forced a smile. “Movie. I’m thinking about the movie” he said, not bothering to look at you. 

You smiled and played with his hair. “Yeah but what are you thinking about?” 

He sighed, slightly enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair but hating the way you were trying to make conversation in the middle of You’ve Got Mail. “The movie” 

You nodded and tried to think about your next move. “Okay, but what? Your mind’s completely blank?” you asked, and he closed his eyes, letting out a ragged breath. “Who is she?” you asked, putting your popcorn down, feeling your forehead purse into a frown.

Felix looked at you. “Who’s who?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“The girl you’re thinking about” You exclaimed.

“I can’t hear” the guy who shushed you before says.

“I’m not thinking about any girl, Y/N” he said.

You clicked your tongue. “I’ve dealt with enough liars! You can’t watch Meg Ryan and not think about another girl” you said. 

People behind you were trying to shut you up but it didn’t work.

“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asked in a whisper. You nodded and he sighed. “I’m thinking about… how damn beautiful you are. And how that beautiful face like yours can believe I’m thinking about another girl, while I’m here with you” he said. “And also, how damn good this movie is. So we’re going to continue watching it” 

You squealed a little bit and hugged him. “Oh, Lix, my baby” you said and kissed his face a couple of times, leaning almost on top of him. “I love sharing this with you”

“Hey! I can’t see and I can't hear” the guy behind you said.

You whirled around in your seat furiously. “If you don’t shut up, my boyfriend here will kick your ass back to where you belong” you said smugly.

“Wait, Y/N” he tried, his eyebrows furrowing in desperation.

“Oh really? Let’s see what you got, pretty boy. Outside. Now” the man said.

Felix wanted the earth to swallow him up.

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

“Oh, Felix. Poor baby” you said, grabbing his face, sitting on the floor of the cinema entrance. His face was nestled between your breasts and he sighed contently, even if he was in pain.

“Wait. Lix let’s go to a hospital” you said. The bruise on his face was getting pretty bad and purple.

He grabbed your waist. “No, no. Stay. Stay right here”

“Okay” you said.

His face was rubbing your breasts and he let out a content moan. “Yes. Just stay still” he said with a smirk.

You laughed. “You perv” 

He laughed and you grabbed his hair, lifting him from your chest. 

“You’re fine. Come on” you said, getting up, offering your hands. He took them and stood up. 

Felix smiled at you and dropped a long kiss to your lips. 

“Let’s go Rocky” you whispered. 

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

Day 4

Felix was planning a tranquil evening, to sit on his couch, watch the Knicks game and relax in his apartment with you. He decided that he was going to cook real nice for the both of you. 

A knock startled his cooking and went to open the door. 

“Come in, it’s open!” he yelled. 

You got inside and smiled at him. “Hello, Lixie-Boo” you said.

He looked at you and his eyes widened. You were wearing a pretty baby blue dress. “Wow, you look gorgeous” he said.

“Thank you, sweet pea” you squealed and dropped a kiss to his cheek. 

You looked at the table and saw the candles, the music in the background making it more nice than it already was.

You gasped. “Oh, honey. This is… too much, I love it” you said.

“Great! Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Go ahead and pour the wine” he said.

“I got you a couple of gifts” you said evilly. You opened the box you brought with you and inside laid a couple of teddy bears and a picture of you with the caption: you’re my, my, my, my lover.

His eyes widened. “Oh… yay” he said. What the hell is all this stuff? Is she quoting Taylor Swift to me?

“Here are two teddy bears. One of them says #1 lover because you are” you said pinching his cheek. “They’re called Lixie and Y/N. Oh! Like us” you said in a baby voice. “And then this picture of me, with Lover from T-Swift lyrics. Do you like it?” you asked.

Felix coughed. “Y-yeah, baby. Love’em” he lied. You kissed him and smiled. 

“You’re so sweet. I’m gonna drop these in your room, wait up” you said.

Felix sighed once you were gone, wiping his face with his hands. 

In his room, you barely contained your laughter but you tried to keep it down. Poor guy. 

The Knicks game was on the TV and was about to start. Felix put the big tray of food and opened the lid. Inside was meat with veggies on it, a very nice decoration, and you hated to say, but you were impressed. Until an idea popped in the back of your head.

You pressed your lips together and let out a fake sob. “Oh, oh this is all my fault, Lix” you whispered, putting a hand over your chest.

He sat down next to you and his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?” he asked, grabbing your hand.

“I’m– I’m a vegetarian” you sobbed. “It’s just that animal meat makes me sad” you said, fake tears escaping your eyes. The blonde sat frozen in his seat. “It’s-- it’s dead” you said.

He let out an irritated sigh. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t know” he muttered, shaking his head.

“It’s okay… this was beautiful. You’re beautiful” you said, wiping your fake tears and rubbing his cheek affectionately. 

Later, you both found yourselves in a deli, eating veggie bowls, which Felix found disgusting, and making him completely miss the Knicks game. 

You finished the food (who he labeled as cow-food), and he quickly ran to the TV to catch the Knicks game, only to find out it had already finished. He let out a grunt and dropped the remote on the couch. “Fuck” he sighed.

He let himself fall on the couch and you climbed over him, kissing the life out of him. Felix let out a surprised groan and grabbed your ass. You unbuttoned his shirt, a few buttons flying away. You couldn’t admit this to anyone, but you found him exciting. 

He smirked against your lips and let his hands wander under your dress, letting his palms rest on your ass. 

You wanted to up the game. “Does little Lix want to come out and play?” you groaned in his ear. 

His eyes widened, while you kissed down his chest. “Uh, what?”

You lifted your head.

“Little Lix?” he asked, utterly confused. 

“Well, we don’t know if he’s big or little, we’re gonna find out” you squealed and resumed kissing your way down to his crotch. 

He lifted you up gently by your arm. “No, no. Baby. You can’t just… name my dick” he said with a frown.

Your eyebrows raised. “You… what are you saying? Do you want me to call it… big Lix? Cocky enough, baby?” you said in a baby voice. You almost laughed out loud at the look on his face. 

“Uh… I’m-- big Lix is not ready to come out and play” he said, cringing at his own words. 

You sighed with a smile. “Well, in that case. I better get going” you said and dropped a kiss to his lips. “Bye honey-bear”

When you were out the door, you snickered. 

“It’s getting easier by the minute” you sing-songed with an evil laugh getting inside the elevator when a hand stopped the door from closing.

Felix smiled and got inside, grabbing your waist and lifting you up against the wall of the elevator, kissing you. His tongue got inside your mouth and tangled with yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked against your lips.

You breathed in and licked your lips. “Yep”

“Well, call me” he pecked your lips and then he was out of the elevator.

You grimaced once you made sure he wasn’t looking. “What the hell? This ain’t getting easier”

You needed to up your game, immediately. 

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

Day 5

The next day in Felix’s office, Hyunjin and Jisung were discussing how you were getting weirder by the time the relationship went on.

“Okay, I thought you said Y/N was a goddess after the Knicks game, little Lix” Hyunjin teased, earning a punch on the shoulder from the blonde.

He laughed. “Well, that was the good Y/N, the smart, cool and sexy woman I met. Not this crazy, evil side she’s showing” he said.

“Maybe she’s bipolar--” Jisung started.

“Muffin!” 

The three guys turned around to find you with a dog in hand.

“Y/N baby” he smiled at you, standing up and walking towards you. “We were just talking about you. You are looking absolutely gorgeous” he said.

“Oh, good things I hope, right baby boo?” you cooed. 

He pressed his lips together and nodded. 

“These are my friends! Hyunjin and Jisung!” he said, pointing behind him and they waved at you.

You gasped. “Oh Lixie told me all about you guys”

“Lixie-Boo told all about you too” Hyunjin teased the blonde, who glared at him.

“Great, well look what I just got you” you sing-songed. “I got you a puppy! His name is… guess what?” you said, clapping your hands together.

He shrugged.

“Little Lix!” you squealed.

Jisung and Hyunjin snickered behind him. 

He smiled and tried to think how the fuck he was going to survive six days more if this was going to keep up like this.

When he got home, he put Little Lix in the kitchen and put water and food ready for him. He grabbed his phone and saw his voicemail was full.

You got 17 new messages from Y/N Y/L/N.

“Oh shit” he said. 

He listened to every single one of them and he face-palmed himself. This is getting even harder than I thought , he thought.

He got inside the bathroom to wash his face and opened the cabinet. He froze when he found a lot of feminine products and he closed it, turning around to find two toothbrushes and a lot of girly stuff scattered in the bathroom. Felix grabbed his hair and almost yelled out. 

“Fucking shit”

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

Day 6

“Girls, I’m telling you. He’s not leaving me“ you said, eating from your ice cream pint. 

“Are you being clingy?” Karina asked.

You nodded. “Like a bitch, yeah. I even supplied his bathroom with girly stuff, some of them I don’t even use. Then I gifted him teddy bears and I baby talk to him. I’m whiny and needy? How is he not leaving me?” you asked.

The girls laughed and continued eating ice cream.

“Either way, I gotta think about something before tomorrow” you said.

Ryujin sat up. “Wait, why not tonight?”

“It’s Poker night with his friends” you said. “Boys night”

“You’re giving him boys night?” she asked.

“They do it every week” you shrugged.

“Before… he met… you” she said.

“Ryujin, I love you”

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

“Bunny! I’m home!” you said, startling his friends and him.

Felix turned around and his eyebrows furrowed. “Baby, what are you doing here?” he asked, sitting up and putting the blunt he was smoking, in a plate.

“I just… I figured I could stop by and kiss you a little bit, huh? Your friends don’t mind if I steal you for about… an hour or so?” you asked.

He laughed nervously. “Honey, I told you… boys night” he said.

You pretended to be offended. “You… don’t want to see me? Do you- Oh! You think I’m crazy!” you said.

Felix’s eyes widened. “I- No! I don’t think you’re crazy, baby. I just want a boys night with--” 

“Oh, I’m sure it was an excuse to hook up with other girls, and oh! I’m sure there’s one hidden here, probably in your bathroom” you fake cried. “I’m out of here, Felix” you said and walked out the door.

He followed you with Little Lix barking behind him. 

“Hey, hey, hey. What was all that?” he asked, making you turn around.

You pressed the elevator button and sighed. “What?”

“You acting like a freaking maniac” he said. 

You gasped and the elevator dinged. “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t be with someone who thinks I’m mental. Bye, Felix” you said and the elevator doors closed but he pressed the button so they opened them again.

”No wait. Where’s the fun, cool, beautiful and sexy Y/N I knew? Huh?” Felix asked. “The one who wanted to be a serious journalist? You’re acting insane, like one second you’re up then you’re down!” he said.

You pursed your lips. “So I guess we’re over” you shrugged your shoulders with a glare.

“Fine!”

“Fine” you said and the elevator door closed. You smiled in victory and then it quickly fell. What the hell is happening? 

Back in Felix’s apartment, Jisung and Hyunjin almost tackled him. “You’re going back, apologize and get back together with her” Jisung said. “Five more days, man. And that’s it” he said.

“No, wait. Hey. You saw how she acted back there” he said.

“Yes, but if you really want the pitch, then you’re going back to her, apologize and be her little bitch for five. More. days” Hyunjin stated.

“Do you want Son and Park Chaeyoung to be comfortable in their new office? The one that should be ours?” Hyunjin digged.

“No, of course not!” Felix said. “But what do I do? What do I tell her!?”

“Couples therapy! Literally anything” Jisung said.

“Couples therapy?” Felix asked.

This was getting way out of hand. 

“Yes, now go!” Hyunjin patted his back and pushed him. 

He sprinted off running to the stairs, jumping from three to three. He got to the door just in time when you got out of the building. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Wait, baby boo” he said, cringing at his choice of words. ��Forgive me, please. I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry” he said, kneeling on the ground.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. What the hell was this guy’s problem and why the hell why was he not running away from her?

“Can you give me another chance?” he asked, puppy eyes on. 

“Haven’t you had enough?” you asked ironically, but you really meant it this time. 

“I’m willing to do anything, Y/N. Please” he said, opening his arms.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, making him stand up, kind of embarrassed that anyone walking down the street could see him like that. 

“Like, what do you think about… couples therapy?” he asked. 

A light bulb turned on in your brain. Couples therapy, huh?

“Oh, Felix. I know a therapist who’ll do wonders with you. When shall we start?” you said, intrigued about his request. 

He nodded. “Tomorrow. Whenever you want” he said, desperately. “Whatever it takes”

“A kiss?” you pouted. 

“Thank you, sweetheart” he said and kissed you almost making you tumble at how hard he kissed you. You had to admit, he was one hell of a kisser. “Thank you for understanding”

“Yeah, no problem, baby boo. But you’re still on probation” you said and walked away. “What the fuck did I get myself into?” you whispered to yourself.

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

Day 7

“If we’re really doing this, you’ll have to open up, Felix. You hear me?” you whined when you reached the ‘therapist’ apartment. 

“Yeah, of course” 

You knocked on the door and Karina appeared, wearing a white pajama pants and a shirt, with big ass glasses and a bun. “Y/N Y/L/N, and Felix Lee. Come in” she said with a formal voice.

Your eyebrows wiggled and tried not to laugh. You grabbed Felix’s hand and sat him down on the couch. 

“So, before we start. I wanted to ask you how you were gonna pay for this session?” she asked.

You patted Felix’s back. “Sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah. How much is it?” he asked, grabbing his wallet from his jean pocket.

“Three hundred dollars the hour” she said calmly. 

His eyes almost bulged out of his school when he heard the price that fell from Karina’s lips. Felix cleared his throat and reached for his wallet. Whatever it takes, then the pitch is yours. He handed Karina the bills and she cleared her throat.

“So, tell me, you guys. How long have you been seeing each other?” she asked.

“Seven days” you replied with a smile.

“Isn’t it too soon to be seeing a therapist?” Felix asked calmly.

You smiled at him. “Well, it isn’t a lifetime but it is--”

“It’s like a week” he said.

You fake gasped and looked at Karina. “Do you hear that tone? How can we not need a therapist when you’re snapping at me like that every goddamn second!” you said rather loudly.

Karina nodded. “How are things between you… I mean… sexually” she digged.

You laughed a little. “Oh, about that… he has a little problem” you said, winking at Karina. “If you know what I mean”

He shook his head. “No, Y/N. Wait. We haven’t had sex yet” he said. “And I don’t have a problem”

“Yes you do”

“No, no I don’t” 

“Okay, okay. Look, the one night that we even thought about having sex you called my dick little Lix, or- or big Lix” he said, turning completely to face you. “Without even seeing it!”

“I thought it was beautiful” you said, close to fake crying.

“I see, Felix” Karina said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “When was it that you first realized you were attracted to other men?”

You had to contain your laugh at this. “Oh, it… that’s serious” you agreed.

“What? No! I love women, why-- okay. No, that it’s clearly not what happened” Felix stammered irritatedly. 

“I’m hearing a lot of anger that’s been swirling inside of you for a long time, Felix” Karina said, folding her hands together. 

You gasped. “Like a rage-aholic”

“No, I’m not a rage-aholic” he shouted.

“Take a deep breath, sweetie” you said, putting your hand on his arm.

“I gotta ask you this one question” Karina said. “Are you ashamed of Y/N?”

He was taken aback by the sudden question. 

“Of course he is” you said.

“No, I’m not ashamed of you, Y/N” he said, putting a hand on your back. 

Karina cleared her throat. “Then why don’t you… take her to meet your family, for example?” she suggested. You wanted to kill her.

Felix nodded. “Yeah, let’s go do that. You can meet my whole family, let’s go to Staten Island, you can meet them” he smiled. 

“Would you like to go to Staten Island?” Karina asked you.

No! Of course not!  

“Yes” 

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

Day 8

He parked his bike in the driveway of his family house and you were greeted by his mother once you got inside of the house. 

“Oh hello, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you!” her mother appeared with a baby in her arms. 

“ Bullshit! ” you heard from the patio.

“My dad and uncles play cards every hour of the day” Felix laughed.

“ Bullshit! ” you heard again.

“You are as pretty as Felix described you on the phone the other--”

“Mom!” Felix whined.

You laughed and shook her hand. “Well, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Lee” you said.

“ Bullshit! ”

“Sweetie!” she scolded over her shoulder. “Excuse me honey, I gotta make my husband shut up for a little bit, here” she said and handed Felix the baby he was holding, who you assumed was his cousin. 

Felix grabbed him happily and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the sight of him holding a baby. 

“I’m gonna get him cleaned up, you go out back” he said and dropped a kiss to your lips and then he was gone. 

You took a deep breath and went out to the patio, finding who you assumed was his dad and his uncles. His mother saw you and dropped the cards on the table. “Everyone! Guys, everybody meet Y/N, our Felix’s girl!” she squealed.

His dad smiled and shook your hand. “Well, Felix described you as ‘beautiful’ but his words weren’t enough” he complimented you. 

You blushed a little and giggled. “Well thank you, Mr. Lee”

“No worries, honey” Mr. Lee winked. 

After they introduced you to the whole family, they gave you a couple of cards to play with them. 

“The game is called ‘Bullshit’ as you may have heard. And we’re just in the lightning round, sweetie, you came just in time” Mr. Lee said.

Felix suddenly came in and smiled. “Well look at this. I’m gonna beat everyone’s asses, including yours baby” he winked at you, sitting down and grabbing himself some cards. 

“I don’t really know how to play”

“Well, here’s the trick. You have to get rid of all the cards in your hand” His dad said.

You nodded and looked at your cards.

“Alright I’m gonna throw and say I have two aces. What do you say?” his dad asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at your cards in hand, noticing you had three aces, which meant he could only have one. “I say bullshit”

“What did you say?” he smiled.

“I say… bullshit!” you said and everyone around you cheered. 

After a couple of rounds where everyone except Felix was helping you out to win just to make him lose, you found yourself having fun, more than you had expected and more than the fun you’ve got this couple of months. The feeling was strange.

“Okay, I’ve got two kings”

You looked around and his family shook their heads. Felix caught them cheating and gasped.

“You all are cheating!” he said, making all of you laugh. “Baby! That’s treason!” he laughed.

You just laughed at him and showed him your cards. “Yep. But I won!”

“And that makes him have the lowest score out of all of us in Bullshit thanks to you, for the first time ever! I say we expect you to come here sooner” his mom said, standing up and drawing his score on a chalkboard. 

You laughed. “Why? Were all his other girlfriends Bullshit losers?” you asked, sipping on your drink.

“What other girlfriends? He’s the first girl he’s ever brought home” her mom said and hugged you. 

First girl he’s ever brought home? You felt special. You hated to admit it, but it was true. 

“Don’t you break his heart” she whispered with a little smile and walked away.

It’s a little too late for that now.

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

After the game, Felix offered to take you for a ride to meet the island on his bike. You accepted, and the blonde took you everywhere. For ice cream, for lunch, to walk in the park, down the port, everywhere. He even taught you how to ride his bike. You couldn’t help it but you felt the butterflies kicking your stomach everytime he smiled or looked at you. And he felt the same. He felt at peace that the fighting and craziness was over for good.

At a certain hour, it started to rain, soaking you from head to toe. You arrived at his home, you rode the bike while he was behind you.

He got you inside of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

“Alright madam, let’s have a shower, what do you say?“ he asked and turned on the hot water.

You nodded and sat on the sink, thinking about why the hell did you accept to do this to this guy. He was perfect and so good with you. If you ever told him the truth, he’d hate you, and you’d lose him. 

“You can shower first if you want” he said, drying his hand with a towel.

You bit your lip and sighed. 

“Is everything all right?” he asked, putting his hands on your legs, his eyes finding yours. 

You smiled at him, caressing his cheek. “It’s more than okay” you said in a low voice. 

He kissed your palm and pinched your leg a little. “Then tell me what’s wrong. You don’t seem okay”

You let out a breath. “I think… when your mother hugged me today, like… she really hugged me” you said, your eyes getting teary. “For winning a game at Bullshit. Like I was a part of the family” you said, a tear flowing down your cheek. 

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed and he put a hand on your cheek. “But that’s a good thing, baby. Smile for me” he said with a little grin, poking your cheek with his pointer finger.

You smiled for him and his grew bigger. Your noses were almost touching and it confirmed for the both of you. Both bets were a huge mistake.

He brought your head closer to his and kissed your lips. You pulled away and searched for something in his eyes, something that would give you a red flag. You found just a glint and lust in his eyes. You kissed him again, opening your mouth for his tongue to come inside your mouth and sighed at the feeling. 

Felix pulled away and you lifted your hands up, so that he could take your shirt off. He complied and saw that you weren’t wearing a bra. His eyes darkened and you hopped off the counter to take his shirt too.

You dropped it to the ground and then went to unbuckle his jeans while he did the same to yours. He pushed your panties to the ground and he pushed his underwear, too.

Felix grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up, making your legs wrap around his torso and kissed you again. He got inside the shower and pressed you against the cold tiles. His mouth on yours felt heavenly, and with every brush of his tonguey you got more and more wetter by the second. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he whispered against your neck. He kissed a couple of hickeys on it and then came back to your mouth.

If anyone walked past the bathroom, they would’ve heard the breathy moans the two of you emitted and the slapping of skin on skin sound. Once you came and he did on your stomach, you stayed staring at each other. Guilt was in his eyes, thinking that you, a beautiful woman he had managed to fall in love with, and probably she did as well, was part of a stupid bet to get a stupid pitch. 

You dropped your forehead on his and sighed with a smile. “That was amazing, Lix. Little Lix down there wasn't so little, huh?” you joked, making him laugh out loud. 

“Well, what can I say? I’m full of surprises”  he said.

You got down and you washed each other. As his arms came around you from behind and you couldn’t help but feel like shit. 

If only he knew. 

In the meantime, Felix rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving a little peck on your skin. He closed his eyes as soon as his lips touched you, feeling the guilt and regret wash over him. 

He didn’t know how he was going to tell you, but there was one thing he knew it was certain: he didn’t deserve you. 

At least, that’s what he thought. 

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

Day 9

The ferry arrived at Manhattan and he drove his bike back to your home. He got down from the bike and walked you to the building entrance.  

“Well, this is home” you said, dropping his hand. 

He nodded and smiled at you. “Uh, Y/N? I wanted to ask you back at Staten but uh… my boss is throwing this party for the diamond account I was telling you about and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? You know… as my date?” Felix asked, clearly nervous. “As my girlfriend” he stated. 

You smiled at him and put your hand on his cheek. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I am” he said, sure of himself.

You pressed your lips together. “Tomorrow will be the tenth day of seeing each other.”

“I know” he said with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow huh?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Should I dress fancy?” you asked.

 “As fancy as you want… but still fancy” he said.

You nodded. “Perfect” you pressed a kiss to his lips and when you pulled away, you hugged him. He felt so good. You didn’t want to let him go just yet, or tell him what you were doing, or him to find out via the magazine. 

As you pulled away, he kissed your head and let you go inside.

“Bye” you blew him a kiss.

“Bye” 

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

Day 10 - final day-

You barged inside Seulgi’s office with a very worried face on you. You let out a breath and sat down on the couch.

“Seulgi? I can’t- I can’t write this article” you stated.

Her eyebrows furrowed and sat down on her chair. “What? Why not? Is your computer broken or something? Figure it out”

“No, it’s not that” you said. “I just… I’ve got to know this guy. He’s amazing. He doesn't deserve this, I really like him, Seulgi. Please” you pleaded.

“Okay. Who’s the boss here?”

“You” you sighed. 

“Then you write what I tell you to write. And that means the article” she said strictly, not even bothering to look at you while she was paging down a magazine. “You’ll do the article, because you are a professional. That’s what professionals do”

“Yes I am” you whispered. 

“Great. Now go. I want the article in less than 48 hours”

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

The night fell and Felix arrived at your house. He was wearing a fancy tux, but he managed to keep it a little less formal. He took a deep breath and cracked his neck. Felix grabbed his phone and sent you a text.

Lix: I’m here xx

He blushed at the thought of you on a fancy dress. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

You: be right down. Wait up xx

His heart picked up speed when he heard the door of your building opening. You stood there with a yellow fancy dress with an open cut back. You did a little twirled and took a second to admire him. He was so beautiful, it hurt your eyes. 

The chauffeur from his car smiled at the interaction.

“Hey” you said timidly.

He just stared, he couldn’t believe you were his. 

“Wow, you are so beautiful” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You blushed and ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re looking good too, sparky” you said putting your arm around his and getting inside the car.

Once you reached the museum, you could only gawk at how much diamonds were used for this party. It almost hurt your eyes. 

“Wow, okay. This wasn’t what I expected at all” you said, looking up only to find a very big, sparkly chandelier. 

Felix nodded, chuckling at your face. “You should come more often to these things with me”

You gasped and elbowed him. “What? So you can see me with a fancy dress more often?”

He shrugged. “Maybe” he teased, making you laugh.

Hyunjin and Jisung appeared wearing very formal suits and they waved at you. “Hey guys” you said.

“Oh, great. Stay with them, I’ll go grab us some champagne” he said, kissing your cheek.

You smiled at him and watched him leave while Jisung told an incredibly boring story of how he managed to get a date.

“Uh, guys. I’ll go sit by the table, there are some snacks there. If you’ll excuse me” you said, and excused yourself, really not wanting to deal with those noisy boys. 

Hyunjin and Jisung stood watching you when they felt hands on their shoulders. The Chaeyoung’s were staring at them with an evil grin on them. 

“News for you guys” Son Chaeyoung said.

They looked at each other. “We don’t want to deal with you snakes today” Jisung said. 

Park Chaeyoung scoffed. “I just wanted to let you guys know that we know that Felix cheated” she said.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean cheated?” he asked in a monotone voice. 

“We know he told this girl about the bet even before they started dating” Park Chaeyoung said. 

Jisung and Hyunjin looked at each other, wide-eyed. 

“We’ll go tell Mr. Park if you don’t hurry up” Son Chaeyoung said, and then, they were gone.

“Shit, we gotta do something” Jisung said.

They ran to the table you were sitting and sat down next to you, startling you mid-eating a snack. You furrowed your eyebrows at their state.

“Hey, Y/N. We know you know about the bet. Okay? And we need you to play dumb when Mr. Park asks you if you fell in love with Felix” Hyunjin said.

Your stomach dropped. A bet? What bet? You were about to ask until it dawned in you. This was all a bet. Felix made a bet, in which he had to make you fall in love with him (in which he succeeded).

“A bet?” you asked in a small voice.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, the bet… you know, he’d get the pitch if you fell in love with him” he said.

You played dumb. “Of course” you faked a smile. Internally you were just trying to keep the tears to yourself.

Meanwhile…

Felix was heading to their table when Kang Seulgi intercepted him.

“Hello Felix. What a pleasure it is to see you” she said with a smile.

He nodded and smiled at the elderly woman. “Yeah, nice to see you too. I gotta head back to my table, there’s this beautiful woman waiting for me-- right there” he said with a smug grin and pointed at you.

Seulgi perked up and gasped. “Y/N? Oh she’s my How-To girl in Composure” she said.

“Your How-To girl?” he asked confusedly.

“Yes. Right now she’s working on an article called How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days” she said and his smile visibly dropped. You were just using him for… an article? Her laugh made him come back from his thoughts. “This poor guy she’s been pretending to date-- wait, she’s actually dating this guy trying to scare him off by making mistakes girls do when--” when she saw the face that Felix and she stopped talking, realizing he was the guy you were dating. “Oh… oh, I’m sorry” she whispered and excused herself. 

He pressed his lips together and downed his champagne glass. He saw you getting up from your chair, grabbed your purse and headed for the exit. Felix followed you, steam flying out of his ears.

When you reached the street you heard his shouting. “No, no, no. Y/N Y/L/N get back here” he said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him. 

“You used me! Just to get a stupid fucking pitch! You played with my feelings, you made me believe you actually care about me” you yelled at him. 

Your words would’ve hurt him if he wasn’t angry enough about the article thing. 

“I used you? You drove me insane for that article from your stupid magazine, okay?” he said angrily. 

“You told people you could make me fall in love with you, like I’m just some random girl that needed saving, you backstabbing jerk” you said, hitting him with your purse. 

Felix stood, pressing his lips together, figuring out what to say next. “So that was what I was, huh? A stupid guinea pig you could use for your experiments?” 

“Yeah and I was just some girl you picked up from a bar because you feel bad for her, sitting all alone with a drink in her hands” you said more calmly.

He chuckled ironically. “Well, you did it. Good job. You wanted to see if you could lose a guy in 10 days, congratulations. You just lost him” he said, and turned away from you.

“No, I didn’t, Felix”

He turned back to face you.

“Because you can’t lose what you never had” you cried out. 

He watched as you turned away and called a cab. His heart was hurting so much. Felix took a shaky breath in and headed back to the party. 

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

Day 11

“Well, this wasn't what I was expecting” Seulgi said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But it’s better” she said gladly. 

You chuckled and smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it”

“Now this is my time to free you from my leash. You can write whatever you want now” she said, putting your recently printed article in a folder. 

Your eyebrows perked up at her saying. “That means I can write like… about politics, economics, religion, or--”

“No, Y/N. Whatever you want means what Composure is about, shoes, dramas, what’s new in Oscar de La Renta’s new dresses, you get what I mean” Seulgi said, flicking her wrist at you. 

This wasn’t what you expected. Writing an article about a guy you did end up falling in love with wasn’t even worth it. In the end, Kang Seulgi had tricked you into making you write whatever she wanted. 

You nodded and sighed. “Thank you for the opportunity, Seulgi” you said slowly. She smiled at you. “And thank you for making it easier for me to turn it down” you said, heading for the door. “My resignation letter will be arriving at your mail very soon” you said and then you were out of the door, leaving Seulgi shocked to her very core. 

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

Felix was in his office, Little Lix in his arms and he let out a sigh, looking at the Knicks game he did not attend. The tickets were laying on his desk, he had planned to give them to you after the party but that did not end up well. 

A knock on his door startled him. “Hey, my man. I’ve got something for you” Hyunjin said, sitting down on a chair.

He saw it was a Composure magazine and he let out a sigh.

“I’m not gonna read that”

“No, you should” he said. Felix just shook his head and dropped Little Lix on the floor. “Okay. You win. I’ll read it to you” Hyunjin said and Felix was about to protest but he held his hands up. “ I’ve lost a guy. And I don’t know why. What went wrong? When I started writing this month’s column, I wanted to commit those certain silly dating mistakes we all commit at some time. But what I didn’t realize was that I was making the biggest mistake of my life ” he said, he lifted his eyes to watch the blonde, who was looking at the floor, with glassy eyes. “Here, read it. Trust me” he said, dropping the magazine on his desk and then he was out of his office.

He sighed and grabbed it, turning to the page where your article was. He started reading and he noticed some important lines: “ I lost the only guy I’ve ever fallen for ”; “ Best 10 days of my life ”, and one that he wasn’t expecting at all. “ This is my last article for Composure ”

His eyebrows furrowed and an idea popped in his head.

A few minutes later, he was running down Composure’s office asking everyone where the hell was your office located. He won a few glares from most of the girls but right now, he didn’t give a fuck.

He found it, and noticed it was empty. Fucking shit, Felix internally cursed. He saw a woman standing right next to her office. 

“Excuse me, Ma’m” he said.

Ryujin turned around abruptly. “Holy crap. You’re Felix”

“I know. Tell me where’s Y/N” he said urgently.

“She quit” Karina appeared from behind him. 

He turned around and noticed a familiarity with the girl.

“She’s got an interview right now, in Washington” Ryujin said.

“When?”

“Like, right now. She’s leaving right now” Ryujin said, checking her watch.

He turned to leave but not before he turned to face Karina. “You’re not a therapist aren’t you?”

She looked confused until she burst out laughing. “No, I’m not”

“Good job. You owe me 300 dollars”

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

You leaned your head on the taxi window, letting out a sigh, thinking about the events that took place that week. You knew that Composure wasn’t the best option for you since Seulgi had always done the same shit over and over again, making you think you could write about something more interesting than fashion and then taking your emotion with her. You rubbed your forehead and allowed yourself to think about Felix. There wasn’t a time that you didn’t regret what happened, but looking at the other side, he made a bet too. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you reached the Brooklyn bridge and saw someone riding a very familiar bike, wearing a very familiar helmet. Oh shit, that’s Felix. 

“Sir, please pull over” Felix yelled.

You gasped at the scene. “What-- Felix? What are you doing?” you yelled. “Sir, pull over please?”

“Are you crazy, woman? We’re in the middle of the bridge” the chauffeur said.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not feeling well, I think I’m about to puke”

“Alright, you win” he grumbled.

You got out of the car and saw him pulling the helmet over his head. “What the fuck is this Felix?” you yelled at him.

He sighed and handed you the magazine. 

“Is it true?” he asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Dammit, Y/N, what you wrote in the magazine. Or were you just trying to sell a magazine?”

“I meant every word, Felix” you said, your eyes getting teary. “But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“It does, and you’re running away” he said.

“I’m not!” You yelled out in a high-pitched voice.

“Yes, you are. To Washington” he said.

You rolled your eyes, pinching your eyebrows. “Yes, but it’s an interview. Besides, what do you care?”

Felix was taken aback by it. “What do I care? I fucking love you Y/N. But I need to be sure it’s true”

“I already told you. It’s true and I… I love you too, Felix. But--” you said-

“But what?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“I can’t write here. I applied for a job where I know I can write about whatever the fuck I want without a bitch that tells me I need to write what it’s accord to my gender” you said, and turned away to get back to the taxi.

“Bullshit”

You stopped in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit. You heard me” he said, stepping closer to you. 

You couldn’t move. He reached until your noses were practically touching. He handed a couple of bills to the taxi driver and told him to send your bags back to your apartment. 

“You’re having alternate transportation from now on” he said. 

You sighed and looked at him, your eyes watery. 

“Really? Are you serious?” you asked with a broken chuckle.

“You bet I am” he said and put his hands on your face, bringing you to a passionate kiss. You melted on it and put your arms around his neck, sighing into it. You felt complete. Finally.  “I love you, so much” he said against your lips, letting his nose rub against yours.

“I love you, I love you, I love you” you mumbled, each ‘i love you’ with a kiss. 

“Okay, so are you two gonna let me drive back to the ladies apartment or what?” the taxi driver grumbled, making you two laugh.

You couldn't believe how perfect this moment was. How it all started with a bet and an article that was meant for you two to find each other. 

Fin.

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

i hope you liked it :) there are more Felix's fics coming in, i've been pretty busy

[p0orbaby]

a request of alba staying over at r’s place, rummaging around her drawer, only to discover r and alexia’s toys? she’s scarred for life 👀

-

Alba’s scream is the kind of noise you’d expect from someone finding a dead body—or, at the very least, a really large spider.

It rattles through the flat with such force that Alexia nearly drops her coffee cup in the kitchen. You’re halfway through scrolling on your phone in the living room when you bolt upright like you’ve been tasered.

“What the hell was that?” Alexia asks, poking her head around the corner.

Before you can respond, Alba storms into the room, her face pale, her eyes wide and traumatised. She’s holding something long, black, and unmistakably not meant to be seen in polite company.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Oh my God, you’re… you’re freaks”

Alexia freezes in place, her mug still in hand, her mouth slightly open. You stare at Alba, then at what she’s holding, and your stomach plummets.

“What—” you start, but Alba cuts you off.

“This!” she shouts, holding it aloft like she’s just found a cursed artifact in an Indiana Jones movie. “This was in your drawer!”

Alexia’s face shifts. At first, it’s surprise. Then it’s horror. Then it’s something cold and composed, the exact face she wears when a referee makes a bad call.

“And why,” Alexia says slowly, carefully, “were you going through our drawers?”

“I was looking for a charger!” Alba shouts back, her voice high-pitched and cracking. “And instead, I found… this! What the hell is wrong with you two?!”

Alexia places the mug down on the counter with such deliberate gentleness that you’re immediately concerned for Alba’s safety.

“Put that back,” Alexia says, her tone razor-sharp.

“Put it back?” Alba repeats, her voice shrill. “How am I supposed to just put it back? I’ve touched it. I’ve touched the thing you—oh my God—use. On each other. I think I’m going to throw up”

You’re sitting there, utterly useless, your mouth flapping open and shut like a dying fish. There are no words in any language to fix this.

“Alba,” Alexia says, taking a step forward, “I’m only going to say this one more time. Put. It. Back.”

Alba’s hand trembles as she lowers the strap onto the coffee table like it’s a live grenade. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe I know this about you. My sister. My actual sister. And you—” She points an accusatory finger at you. “You’re even worse!”

“Why am I worse?!” you demand, finally finding your voice.

“Because you—because you—” She gestures wildly at the offending object. “You’re clearly behind this!”

Alexia pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering something in Spanish that sounds suspiciously like a prayer.

“Well,” you start, feeling defensive now. “I mean, technically—”

“Don’t,” Alexia cuts in sharply, pointing a warning finger at you.

“Technically,” you continue, because you have no survival instinct, “she’s the one who bought it”

Alba’s gasp is loud enough to make the neighbours concerned.

“I don’t want to know that!” she shrieks, her hands flying up to cover her ears. “I don’t want to know any of this! You two are—are—oh my God, how do you even walk?”

Alexia’s composure cracks just slightly as she glances at you, her lips twitching in what might be a smile if she weren’t so irritated. “This is your fault,” she says.

“My fault?!” you snap. “How is this my fault?”

“You didn’t lock the drawer”

“I didn’t think your sister would go rummaging around in it!”

Alba throws her hands in the air, still pacing back and forth. “Do you know what this is going to do to me? Every time I see either of you, I’m going to think about—” She gestures wildly at the strap still sitting on the coffee table like it’s haunted.

“Then don’t think about it,” Alexia says simply.

“How can I not think about it?!” Alba screeches. “It’s massive!”

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s a support group for this kind of thing, some kind of hotline you can call for siblings scarred by their siblings’ sex lives.

Alexia steps forward, picks up the strap with an air of complete indifference, and tosses it back into the bedroom. She doesn’t even flinch when it lands with a dull thud.

“Tea?” she asks you, as though nothing has happened.

You stare at her. Then at Alba, who looks like she’s on the verge of tears. Then back at Alexia.

“I need something stronger than tea,” you mutter.

“Agreed,” Alba says faintly, collapsing onto the sofa. “And a lobotomy”

Alexia sighs, brushing her hands together like she’s dusting them off. “You’ll get over it”

“No,” Alba says, shaking her head. “No, I won’t”

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 3

Summary: Wanda gets a little jealous and you're in trooouublee.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R, Carol Danvers x F!R.

A/N: Part 1 & 2 are recent, so you can find them on my blog. Sorry I'm tired and lazy to link them. Will do that later lol.

Part 2

Coffee in an IV, that’s what you need. However, drinking it is the next best thing so you get one from the cafeteria and give the other cup to Darcy, who’s yawning in one of the stretchers that people leave in the hallway.

“Bless you”

You hum in acknowledgment, sitting next to her.

“Duty or booty?” she asks when your phone pings.

“Ha, good one. You should do stand up” you say, ignoring her.

“So, it is a booty call” Darcy insists when you begin typing, a smile on your face.

“It’s not. My neighbour was telling me something about her children. You remember them, the Maximoffs”

“The broken arm?” you nod, sipping from your cup. “Ok, so now you text her about her children? To get into her pants?”

“No! Not everything is about sex, Darcy”

“If you really think about it, it kinda is. And you still haven’t told me why she’s texting you”

“I took care of the twins the other day, when she went out on a blind date. With a man” you give her a pointed look. “And I showed them a videogame I loved when I was kid, and apparently helped to create a new obsession”

“Which one? Lara Croft?”

“Spyro”

“The purple dragon? You are such a dork” she says, scrunching up her face. You roll your eyes, ready to give her the middle finger when her pager goes off.

“Karma” you cough up and she glares.

“This conversation is not over!” she threatens, leaving you alone.

You look at the chat with Wanda.

Wanda: They both want to be Spyro for Halloween!

Y/N: Sounds cute! They could have a little Sparks floating around on their shoulder.

Wanda: It’s all they talk about every day, I swear I’m dreaming about dragons.

Y/N: Sorry?

Y/N: I do have a plan to make it up to you.

—

You’re done with the coffee, at least if you want to get some rest. Still, you pick up a latte and a scone for Wanda, and carry the new videogame as you knock on the woman’s door.

“Oh, hi!” she looks at you, confused.

“Hey. Sorry, I don’t know how you take your coffee. It’s a latte, dairy free” you hand over the cup and the scone. “And I have something for the twins”

“That’s so sweet, but they’re at school”

“Today’s not Saturday?” you say, confused. Wanda giggles at that, making you blush.

“Today is Tuesday. Come on in”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry” you say, following her to the kitchen.

“I don’t have to be at work for another hour, so it’s fine” she assures you. “Plus you saved me a trip to the coffee shop”

“You know, I’ve never asked about what you do for a living” you say apologetically, only now realising that you’ve barely interacted with Wanda since you moved here.

“I’m an author and illustrator” she says.

“That’s so cool! Anything I’ve read?”

“Only if you like children’s books” the woman smiles.

“Can’t say that I have read any lately. But that’s awesome. I’m a little starstruck, I’ve never met a writer before”

Wanda laughs at that, and you blush a little.

“Oh, before I forget. Maybe this will distract them from dragons” you hand over the new videogame and Wanda arches an eyebrow.

“The solution to a videogame is another videogame?” she says with her mom voice.

“Uh… yes? It’s Crash. It’s really funny. Sorry, it was dumb, forget it” you begin to regret it, reaching for the box, but Wanda does the same thing, her hand landing on yours.

“I’m kidding. It’s very sweet of you, Y/N”

The way she says your name is almost hypnotic, and once again your eyes travel to her lips.

For the first time, you’re willing to admit that it wasn’t the alcohol that made you wanna kiss Wanda.

Still, your hands are touching and you want to lean forward.

Your phone interrupts the moment, and you apologize, thinking it might be from the hospital.

Carol: I’m outside your house :)

What?

“Work?” Wanda says when you frown.

“I’m not sure… I should get home. Sorry”

“I’ll walk you out. If you want to come by for dinner and show the boys the new game, you’re more than welcomed” she offers.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’ll text you later” you promise, waving the woman goodbye.

Carol is leaning against her motorcycle, and she does a double take when you walk out of the house across the street.

“Did I get the wrong house?”

“No” you laugh. “I was at my neighbour’s, I got something for her kids”

“That’s very thoughtful” Carol holds your hand, and you try not to blush at the sudden contact.

“So, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come to my place tonight. I’ll cook something nice, we’ll have a lot of sex and you won’t have to hold back those pretty moans of yours”

“Such a romantic, Danvers” you roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. “I’m in”

“Alright. See you tonight” Carol says, kissing you. That’s another thing that takes you by surprise, and you don’t know what’s gotten into her.

Walking inside your home, you open the fridge and it doesn’t hit you until you see Billy’s drawing.

You told Wanda you’d be there for dinner.

Crap.

It feels cheap to cancel over what is esentially a -very tempting- booty call, but you’re also aware that you might be thinking too much of yourself. The truth is, Wanda probably doesn’t give a crap about whether or not her workaholic neighbour comes to dinner.

A few hours later, when you’re still thinking of a way to politely reschedule, you get a text from Wanda.

Wanda: I forgot we had a thing with friends from school. Maybe some other time?

Y/N: Yeah, no worries!

You try to ignore the disappointment you feel over not seeing Wanda again, focusing on the night ahead.

Here were the facts:

Wanda dated men, obviously.

Darcy would kick your ass if she even suspected you had a crush on your straight neighbour.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what is happening.

—

“I hope you like parmesan chicken” Carol says, as you look around her apartment. The decoration is very modern and you admire the collection of books she has. You’re more of an online article person, but right now you’re reconsidering your stance.

“Smells great” you comment, opening the bottle of white wine you brought. You hop on her kitchen counter, watching as she finishes the food.

“So, what did your neighbours say about that thing you got them?”

“I don’t know, they were at school, but maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow”

Or maybe not, considering you’re developing a crush on their beautiful mother.

“I didn’t know you liked kids so much” she comments and you shrug your shoulders.

“I mean, I’m ok with kids, but these two are really sweet and nice. One of them was at the hospital recently, he broke his arm”

“Really? And how come I didn’t hear of it?” Carol raises her eyebrows, always on top of everything that happens at her department.

“Relax, Ortho Goddess. I drove them there and took care of everything, your intern just helped with the cast” you take a sip of your wine. “I don’t even know if you were at the hospital”

“So, no dad?”

You shrug your shoulders, a bit impatient. You were hoping to push Wanda out of your mind, and Carol kept on bringing her up.

“I’m not sure what happened, if there’s a father in the picture or not… but enough about this. How’s the grant application?”

“It’s hell. But I’m glad Kamala is so committed, I’d go nuts without her”

“Must be nice, to have an intern like that” you say, thinking about the rotation of doctors you get. They’re helpful, but none of them stay long enough to understand the logistics of an ER.

“No more chat about work” Carol proclaims and you laugh.

“Oh, what else can we talk about?“

“You’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t talk at all”  she pretends to think about it, standing between your legs. Your laugh is cut off by her lips on yours, moving impatiently until you let her explore your mouth with her tongue.

“Food’s gonna get cold”

“We’ll heat it up” Carol says, pulling your legs around her waist and carrying you across the apartment. “Let me show you the bedroom”

“We’re skipping the rest of the tour?”

“No, we’re definitely having sex in the shower” Carol says, making you laugh.

As her kissing becomes frantic, and you lose yourself in the feeling of skin against skin, for a brief moment, you forget those green eyes and auburn hair.

—

The rest of the week goes by in a blur. An accident in the highway keeps you locked in the hospital for 48 hours straight, and all you can manage is sleep and shower between surgeries.

You get to be for eight hours at home before returning for a day and a half shift. The only thing in your mind as you finally get in the car is working out, because you’ve seen horrible situations for the past four days and need to be so exhausted that you’ll pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

You go out in a sports bra and shorts, hoping the exercise helps with all the stress. After a good thirty minutes, you return home, sweating and panting.

You turn to the garden hose to pour some water on your face and neck, when you hear someone cursing and something falling.

“You ok?” you run to Wanda, trying to get her garbage can back up.

“Yeah, thanks” she says, looking anywhere but you. “Busy lately?”

“God, you have no idea” you sigh, crossing your arms. “Heard about that crash in the highway? We had like twelve people come in”

“That’s horrible” Wanda says, finally looking at you.

“It’s the job I guess. How are you? And the twins? Did they like the game?”

“Oh, they actually haven’t had…”

You hear a motorcycle pulling up and have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. What’s Carol’s game? The blonde eyes you, and you want to smack that smug grin off her face.

“Sorry, you were saying” you ignore her, turning back to Wanda.

“It’s not important, I have to get back and make dinner” she says, saying goodbye as fast as possible. You turn back home, feeling dejected.

“Was I interrupting?” Carol asks.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“I don’t think you notice the way she’s looking at you, Y/N” she insists as you both step inside your house.

“Wanda? Don’t be ridiculous, she’s just my neighbour”

Your perfect, funny, beautiful neighbour who has her life together and no time to entertain a workaholic like you.

“And last time I checked, we weren’t exclusive” you add.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?” she smiles, cornering you against the wall.

“Because, I don’t know what’s up with you, having me over and then showing up out of the blue. It’s very… couple-y”

“Is that so?” she leans forward, her lips barely touching yours.

“Y-yes”

“Maybe I just had a bad week, and I know for a fact you did too. So we can take a bath together, have some pizza and then fuck each other’s brains out”

This time, her lips do actually meet yours and inspite of everything, you give into the kiss.

“Unless you wanna invite your neighbour over to join us, which I’m definitely not against”

“Ugh, you’re such an ass” you break apart, rolling your eyes and going upstairs, laughing with Carol as she follows you eagerly.

—

They’ll have to move. That’s the only way to escape.

Wanda closes the door, leaning against it, hoping that the image of you, walking in those sinful clothes disappears from her mind.

Of course she had to make a fool of herself, dropping the garbage and attracting your attention.

If only she had gone out earlier, Wanda could have saved herself the trouble of witnessing that mysterious woman, who was very obviously your girlfriend, looking at you like you were an entire meal.

What if she moves in with you? What if Wanda has to see you everyday, kissing the blonde goodbye or hanging around or…?

“Mom” Tommy calls for her, and she has to pull herself together.

“Yes, sweetheart” she forces a smile, looking at her son.

“What are we having for dinner?”

“Well, I was thinking some mac and cheese”

And then, she’ll drown her sorrows in a bottle of cheap wine. Hopefully she’ll dream of you, sweaty and having your way with Wanda.

—

There’s an unfamiliar weight as you wake up, and as you turn, you look at Carol’s disheveled state.

“Blanket thief” you accuse.

“Shhh”

“Gotta pee”

“No, five more minutes” she pleads, nuzzling against your neck.

“What? Too tired after last night?” you taunt, remembering how she seemed to be insatiable and only stopped when you were too sensitive.

“Well, yeah. I rocked your world. Where’s my reward?”

“I can offer you coffee and scrambled eggs”

“Your fridge was empty, remember?”

“Oh. In that case, coffee and breakfast somewhere nice”

“Deal” she kisses your shoulder, moving to get her clothes.

“I can’t believe we have to be back in three hours” you complain, stretching. The sheet falls, leaving your entire body in full display.

“Maybe we can have something else for breakfast” Carol says, pulling you back down.

After another hour, you finally go down the stairs. You’re arguing over taking her motorcycle or your car when you hear voices outside.

Billy and Tommy are looking curiously at the motorcycle, touching the handle.

“Hey, kiddos” you greet, and they turn around, scared at being caught.

“Wanna get on it?” Carol offers and they nod excitedly.

Carol is busy showing them how it works when the front door opens, Wanda calling for the twins.

“You know you can’t leave the house like that. I am so sorry” she turns to you, but Carol is the one who answers.

“It’s no problem, really”

Wanda gives the blonde a tight smile.

“Come on, let’s get back inside”

“Oh, how long has he had the cast?” Carol says.

“Like a year” Billy says and you laugh, ruffling his hair.

“3 weeks?” you turn to Wanda.

“It’s actually 4. I meant to ask you when is he supposed to get it off”

“Come by the hospital and we’ll take a look. Children’s bones heal faster” Carol says, and it’s very obvious now that she’s inserting herself in the conversation so Wanda acknowledges she’s with you.

“Sure. I’ll text Y/N later”

“Great. I’ll make time to personally check Billy, did I get it right?” Carol turns to the kid and he nods.

“Well, Y/N has been his doctor, so I don’t think that’s necessary” Wanda pushes back, crossing her arms. All you do is look between them.

“Oh, we can both check it out if it makes you more comfortable, after all I am the head of Orthopedic Surgery”

“I thought you didn’t date other surgeons” Wanda turns, and you can finally get a glimpse of how scary she must be when one of the twins disobbeys her. She’s smiling, but her eyes tell a different story.

“I… well…” you mumble like an idiot.

“Time to go, or we won’t eat breakfast. Come on, I’m starving after last night” Carol takes your hand, pulling you away from Wanda.

You’d rather be doing an enema on a patient than witnessing this weird tug-a-war they have going on.

“Come on, boys” Wanda takes them back home, and Carol waves innocently at her.

“Seriously?” you say, ripping out the extra helmet from her hands.

“What? I was just messing with her. Come on, princess. Hold on tight”

Carol revs the engine loudly, leaving your driveway with a smile on her face.

She has the better sense to drop the subject during breakfast, picking out a small diner close to the hospital.

On the other hand, you are unable to stop thinking about everything that happened and, against your better judgement, do something that you’ll clearly regret.

You tell Darcy.

“Wait, wait, wait!” she says, holding her sides. “Your situationship and the MILF next door were fighting over you?”

“It’s not funny” you say, resisting the urge to choke her with her stethoscope.

“It so is. Girl, you gotta pick a struggle”

“You’re useless” you complain.

“No, ok, hear me out” she takes a deep breath, wiping away the tears and looking at you. “So, on one hand, you have a thing with Danvers. Do you really think she got over Rambeau already?”

“Of course not! Which is why I was fine with it being just sex. She’s the one who started doing other weird, couple stuff”

You weren’t an idiot; Carol and Maria had been together for years, and engaged until Maria left to work with Doctors Without Borders. Thought you didn’t know why they split up, it was fairly obvious that they were too proud to talk it out, but they still loved each other.

“Exactly. So, let’s say you start seeing Danvers more seriously, and then Maria comes back. You’re…”

“Fucked” you nod along, starting to understand Darcy’s point.

“On the other hand, you have the hot mom. According to you, she dates men. We have no clue if the father of her children is dead, missing, crazy… Maybe he'll come back eventually”

“And I’m fucked again” you rub your eyes, frustrated. “All I wanted was a way to destress. This is the exact opposite”

“I guess you’re very charming” Darcy shrugs her shoulders, and you’re about to thank her when she adds. “Or stupid”

In spite of everything, her words hold some truth. As you see patients and take care of the ER, you think of a way to fix everything.

Then, your phone pings and dread invades you.

Wanda: We’re in the foyer.

Fuck it, you’ll make sure you get to them before Carol and send them home before they get into another weird ass argument.

You run to find the Maximoffs, taking Billy to get an X-Ray.

“It’s urgent” you tell the technician.

But Carol is three steps ahead of you, because she asked to be informed of any patients that came to get X-Rays over cast removals.

So, by the time you and Billy come back, Wanda and Tommy are in the room, while Carol confirms Billy’s arm is completely healed.

“Hey, thank you for getting that X-Ray” Carol says with a smile and you curse to yourself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s get your arm back” you bring him to the bed, where Kamala prepares to do the removal. Carol forgets her little feud with Wanda for a moment, reminding her resident how to do the procedure.

“Is that a saw?” Wanda says, pale.

“Yes, I know it looks scary but it’s perfectly safe, I promise” you say, holding on to her arm. She looks at you, nodding and you smile, letting your hand drop to her back, rubbing slowly to calm her down. Wanda leans into the touch, her shoulders relaxing.

It’s so easy, to reach out for her.

Carol doesn’t miss the contact, but keeps on observing as Kamala cuts the cast.

Billy moves his arm tentatively.

“It might be weird at first. Try to take it easy the first few days” you say and Billy nods, keeping the cast with all stickers and drawings from his friends.

“That’s pretty much it” Carol says, removing her gloves. “If you have any questions…”

“I’ll call Y/N. Thank you” Wanda cuts off.

“Mom, we should celebrate!” Billy says. “Can Y/N come over?”

“That would be fun…” you begin to say.

“Oh, sweetheart. Y/N is very busy” Wanda speaks over you. She’s not even looking your way and you hate to admit it, it kinda hurts.

“No more running down the stairs, buddy” you say, opening the door for them. The three walk out, Tommy and Billy waving goodbye.

Carol goes after you the minute you leave the room.

“What the hell was that?”

“Excuse me?”

“The touching and the love eyes” she insists.

“You’re the one that made it weird to begin with, Carol” you say, feeling a headache approaching.

“Well, yeah. We have this thing going on and you act like you’re in love with someone else”

“Now hold on” you stop in the middle of the hallway, pointing a finger to her chest. “You and I agreed it was just sex. We don’t talk about the massive elephant in the room because frankly, it’s none of my business. But be honest. If Maria came back right now, would you not to want to be with her?”

Carol takes a step back. This is the first time you’ve seen her speechless.

“I don’t know. Maybe. If she came back, I… she would come first. But that’s just hypothetical”

“No, it isn’t. Because she is right there, Carol”

You point behind her, watching as Maria Rambeau, former head of Pediatric Surgery is talking to Chief Fury.

Carol turns her head so fast you’re shocked she didn’t snap something.

The look of adoration, longing and sorrow in her eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“Go” you smile, squeezing her arm. “You should always go after what you want, Danvers”

She nods, still too shocked to move.

You’ll let them have their reunion in private and will use the rest of your shift to mope about Wanda.

“Go home” Fury says when you stick around long after your shift. “Sorry about Danvers”

“Sir, you knew?”

“I know everything” he shrugs his shoulders and you can’t help but smile.

Of course, Carol drove you here so you take a cab home, which is fine. You’re too tired and distracted to drive anyway.

Truth is, you’re not sad about Carol. The only thing you can think about is Wanda and how she left without so much as a look in your direction.

“This the place?” the driver says and you snap out of it, handing him the money and some extra. “Sweet, thanks. Have a good night”

“You too, man”

After a shower, and eating pizza leftovers, you’re still thinking about Wanda. As you sip from your beer, and look at the tv without paying attention, someone knocks at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Wanda”

You jump from the couch, spilling some of the beer on your pants.

“Sorry, if it’s a bad time I’ll come back later”

“No, wait” you run to the door, opening and looking ashamed. “I spilled beer on myself. I seem to do that a lot when you’re around”

“I should have texted, I’m sorry”

“No, you can come over whenever you want. Is everything ok, are you ok?”

“Well, no” she runs her hands through her hair, and starts ranting. “I came to apologize, I was so rude to you, and I have absolutely no right to be. You have been nothing but nice, helpful and kind and I… I was a total bitch”

“Hey, hey, stop it” you take her hand, pulling her inside. “Wanda, it’s fine, I get it. I’m not mad at you”

“You have every right to be” Wanda insists, and you can see she’s spiraling, so you pull her against you, hugging her.

“I’m here. Not going anywhere”, you say against her shoulder. You only let go when you feel Wanda’s breathing going back to normal. You take a step back, your hands dropping to her waist. “Want some pizza and beer?”

“Uh… that sounds good, yeah. Can we sit on your kitchen? That way I can look out the window, just in case the twins wake up”

“Yeah, come on” you take her hand, closing the door as she enters your place.

You stay silent as you warm a slice of pizza and get another beer for you, offering her a bottle.

“I don’t think I’ve drank beer since college” she says, smiling.

“Only fancy wine?” you joke, taking a seat next to her.

“Not even that these days. Listen… I really am sorry and though it may not seem like it, I’m happy for you and Doctor Danvers”

“Oh, that’s not a thing” you interrupt her.

“Was it something I did?” she says, looking mortified.

“No, it was just… uh, never serious. I think she might be fixing things with her ex so that’s the end” you explain, removing the label of your bottle.

“Are you ok?” Wanda reaches for your hand and you blush.

Yeah, I’m ok because you’re here now.

“I am, it wasn’t serious. Honestly, it was just sex”

“Oh” Wanda blushes, and removes her hand from yours, taking a large gulp of her beer.

“I mean, we all have needs, wouldn’t you agree?” you tease, leaning forward as if you’re telling her a secret.

“I suppose so, yeah” Wanda gets lost in your eyes, hoping you close the distance.

And you want to, you really do, but Wanda gave you a hard time and you might make her sweat a little before giving in.

So, you lean back on your chair, smiling mischeviously at the other woman.

“How’s Billy? Happy to be cast free?”

“Yeah, he’s excited about getting to play that dragon game you gave them from the start”

“I guess Crash wasn’t good enough to replace Spyro” you say, understanding the twins. You always had a soft spot for the latter.

“Actually… I didn’t give them the other game” Wanda admits, chewing her lip nervously.

“Why?”

“To be honest, I wanted you to give it to them so I could… I don’t know, have an excuse to see you again”

As Wanda admits her reasoning, red invades her cheeks. Your heart skips a beat at the sweet admission, and you stand up, walking to where she’s sitting.

“You don’t ever need an excuse to talk to me”

“No?” she says, fidgeting wih her bottle.

“You can text me, call me, fax me, page me. I’ll give you my email so you have that option as well” you say, making Wanda laugh.

“I just don’t know what to talk about sometimes, I get nervous”

“Well, we could talk about the weather, how inflation is crazy high… you could tell me about the Scarlet Witch”

“You looked up one of my books?” Wanda says, blushing.

“Yeah, I have it, ready to get an autograph from the author herself”

Wanda blushes even more at that, chewing on her bottom lip. You take another teeny, tiny step towards her, eyes going to her lips.

“Or, we could not talk. There’s plenty one can do without verbal communication. Like bird watching”

“Crossword puzzles” Wanda jokes, following along.

“Kissing” you say, leaning forward until you’re inches apart. You let her decide if she wants to close the distance, and Wanda does, her lips tentatively moving against yours.

She tastes like vanilla and you sigh against her mouth, pulling her close to you.

It’s everything you imagined and more, her pretty sighs spurring you on until your hands go down her sides, and to her waist.

At the movement, Wanda breaks the kiss, making you whine.

“Is this… do you want this to be just sex?”

“You deserve more than that”

Yes, the thought of Wanda naked, moaning your name make you weak in the knees, but you also want to bring her coffee and have lunch together.

“So, does that mean…?”

“Go out on a date with me” you blurt out, trying to catch your breath.

“Yes” she nods, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, you’re not so sure you’ll be able to resist the urge of worshipping her body right in the middle of your kitchen, for all the nighbourhood to watch. “I should go”

“You only just got here” you complain, kissing down her neck.

“And if I stay, you won’t get your beauty sleep”

“Sleep is overrated” you mumble, biting down her neck playfully.

“Ok!” she holds back a moan, jumping as if your touch burns her.

“Did I hurt you?” you say, worried.

“No, it wasn’t pain that I felt” Wanda admits, turning red.

“I’ll behave” you raise your hands and Wanda steps back, not sure that she believes you. “How about next Thursday?”

“That can work, yeah. Let me just check with the nanny”

She walks to the door, lips slightly swollen.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you before that, though”

“Right, because I live across the street”

“And I might need to borrow some sugar” you joke, leaning forward to open the door, trapping Wanda’s body. “Or other stuff”

“I should go”

“You sure?”

“Yes” the woman nods, biting down her lip. Still, she pecks your lips one last time, and takes advantage of how flustered you get to walk out the door.

“Text me when you’re home” you joke, making her giggle. Still, you don’t get inside until she opens her own door, waving at you one last time.

You take your phone, reading a lenghty text from Carol saying she was really sorry about everything. And then another one comes in.

Wanda: I’m home.

Y/N: Come back.

Wanda: I wish.

Wanda: Night, Y/N

Y/N: Night, Wands.

Part 4