#yup some thoughts during building - got a little long

[moonwoodhollow]

Koffieboon, Nordhaven

build diary and thoughts under the cut!

I finally started working on the Koffieboon lot as my 2nd to last lot for Nordhaven's Old Town and while I love the layout of the lot with the three connected houses I felt like they all needed a bit more details for the facades first. I ended up changing the windows, as I wanted all 3 houses to have a bit of a different distinctive feeling. For the orange house, I ended up using the Businesses&Hobbies windows, for the green house, I used ones from Lovestruck EP + CC and for the rosy house, I used Life&Death windows.

If there's also one thing I cannot live without when decorating older houses it's corner stones, they add so much to a building and make it seem more complete, at least in my opinion. The ones I used there are by Felix (Estate Orjanic) and Pierisim (Maison de ..).

When I read about the family and their business (café Koffieboon) I felt that the building and the backstory were somewhat disconnected. Obviously, the Loden family could have (at some point) renovated the café, but somehow I felt that the café should have more of an older interior, so I'll probably change that. I do like the current interior, but it fits better to Ivarstad and a hip bookshop.

Now, the layout/ floorplan of the apartment above the café was terrible. I don't understand how there wasn't a hallway and that the front door immediately leads to the kitchen?! Also, the placement of the bathroom was really not it...

Continuing to the bedrooms, those were actually quite tricky. I didn't like how small the children's bedrooms were and that there was a hallway leading from the living room to the bedrooms. I'm not 100% happy with my solution, but I think it's still better than the original.

I love the small extra apartment that the grandmother has, but in reality, she'd probably need a flat on the ground floor, because that poor woman has to climb 2 sets of stairs just to reach her flat, that's unacceptable. Here, I added a balcony because I just love balconies, and they add a bit of detail.

That's it so far for this lot. I will change up the café interior next and if I ever upload this build I'll remove the kitchen on the 2nd floor, but yeah this got long, hope it was interesting to read some building thoughts!

[chaoticloving]

the making of stomper

harry styles x reader masterlist

summery: harry has his wife make the feature of his new music video

a/n: reader is described as an engineer and the "flashbacks" are italicized

“Satellite was inspired by my love of Wall-e.” Harry explained. “I love the little guy, looking around in search for his point of life—so human, really.”

~

“I need your skills.” Harry ambiguously stated, rushing into the bedroom and meeting Y/n who was relaxing on the bed on her laptop.

"Come again?" Y/n laughed, confused by her husbands question and vaguely raunchy implications.

Harry climbs on the bed, sitting between his wife's legs on his sock-clad feet, yes, the pair with holes in them. "I have an idea and I need your help building it."

Harry gave a sweet smile, the face he poses whenever he wants Y/n to build something for him, first it was a new camera, fixing up a new engine for an old car harry had his eyes on, and any other little thing Harry wanted. Y/n never minded of course, she enjoys creating new things and Harry was always there to help by any means he could. She enjoyed working on other things besides work--which at her level typically involved designing, no actual building.

"Intriguing , what is it?"

"Wall-e."

"Wall-e?"

"Wall-e."

"Huh." Y/n thought for a moment, before switching tabs on her laptop and opening up a new design file, labeling it "wall-e". "What's your vision."

"It's to go with Satellite and it would feature a little robot roomba thing thats looking for the meaning of life. It would walk or roll and move it's little face around." Harry summarized, stopping before he rambles too long, and make a list too extravagant.

“I’m down, I just need some time to think about what I’ll need and the process.” Y/n decided.

~

“Stomper was actually the 6th Stomper.” Harry thought back. “The first couldn’t move its head and only go very slowly on it’s little wheels. Two through four short-circuited. Five got injured by our cat. But six—he was a trooper.”

~

“Alright, we rolling?” Y/n spoke over to Harry, doing some final looks on the remote and Stomper.

“Yup! Ready for testing!” This was always Harry’s favorite part, despite it not being Y/n’s because she was always very thorough and was always waiting for a flaw with her creation. Harry, ever the optimist, was excited to see the little creature come to life.

“Okay, lemme just turn him on.” It was definitely a he this one, something in Y/n was just telling her it was a boy—as boyish a robot could be. But maybe she just thought the robot would act like Harry and all of his boyish charm.

Stomper grew to life, it’s “eyes” producing a subtle glow.

“Alright and moving forward—“ He moved, a little quicker then the others before him, which Y/n surprised and confused about. “Turning around…” The little robot did just that.

“It works?!” Harry shouted, letting the camera out of focus. He ran up to Y/n and hugged her tight, kissing her wherever his mouth could reach.

“Harry we got to give it more time, he might explode or something-“

“It’s perfect.” Harry chided, ignoring any concern his wife had for the little robot.

~

“I think Stomper was a subliminal message of some sort—“ Harry told the camera. He held on tight to the small child in this lap, who was trying to grab his ear and hair. “Y/n didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Only about a week after the music video went up Y/n had this epiphany that she didn’t have her period for the past two months—and the rest was history.”

Harry looked down at the little boy in his arms, brown hair showing through and a nose like his daddy’s. His eyes and lips through, were a copy and paste from his Mama.

“I joked that we should name him stomper--Y/n did not like that joke at all—so we settled on something else that will forever remain a mystery for you lot, or until I end up rambling uncontrollably.”

Harry, ever the scared Papa Bear, wouldn’t let anyone get a picture of any sort of the small boy. During the video, the boy was wearing a hat covering his face while Harry’s large hand would cover from the neck up. The only way you could know that Harry’s son was there was from the little grabby hands that kept making an appearance.

“But it’s getting close to this bubs nap time, so thank you for all the love.” Harry turned the camera off, smiling as he know the fans would love the one year special treat.

Harry went upstairs and met with his lovely wife taking a nap in their shared bed. His little boy yawned, causing Harry to yawn, so he knew it was family nap time.

“How’d it go?” Y/n whispered.

“Good.” Harry said, moving around so he could big spoon his son and wife. “Bubs was the star.”

“He takes after you.”

Harry smiled at the comment, but knew the opposite to be true. His little baby was showing signs of intelligence that could only be traced to his wife. “With any luck he’ll turn out just like his mama.”

[percontaion-points]

Arena chapter 6

Click here for the rest of the series!

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 6

She gestured at Callie’s foot. “How’s it feel?” “I think it fits.” She snugged the laces.

Is this a thing that people actually say? Or is this the author sitting and struggling to come up with the correct word, failing, shrugging, and going “’snug’ it is!”? I swear that I googled this, but literally nothing was coming up. Editors? We don’t like their kind ‘round these parts.

“I needed the money,” Callie said, annoyed. “How was I supposed to know they were aliens?”

I’d like to remind everybody that she was promised $50 for this shit. She literally threw her life away for a measly $50.

Even here, in the worst of conditions, Rowena’s sensuality throbbed. Her blue jeans molded a slender waist and curved hips like a second skin, and her scoop-necked T-shirt clung so tightly it left little to the imagination.

Look, all I’m saying is that it’s a little weird for a so-called straight woman to be this hung up over another woman’s “sensuality” and curves.

“So happens, you’re in luck. We’ll be stopping at Manderia for supplies b’fore we hit the canyon. If you can wait a few weeks, you can check out your Gate there.” “Manderia? Is that a town?” “Yup. All the Gates have towns. I guess people get that far and don’t know what else to do.” “Did ya hear about those folks over in Devon who’re building a dirt ramp?” John said. “Figure to walk right on up to the top.” “Morons,” Garth scoffed. “They’ll die of old age ’fore they finish. But we all gotta do what we gotta do.”

At least they’re trying SOMETHING rather than sitting around and moping about it.

Though she fully intended to read through the manual’s unencrypted portion before week’s end, she never found the time.

How though? She lost hers to things that almost bit her thumb off. Unless one of the others happens to have their own lying around somewhere?

Garth dismissed it as sulking, but it was clearly more than that. As the weeks passed, Callie realized Pierce was a deeply troubled man, plagued by horrific nightmares during which he jerked and grimaced and screamed, or curled whimpering into fetal position. Often, his cries woke the others, who’d watch him intently for a while and then go back to sleep as if they were long used to it.

I’m sorry, but why the hell is Pierce the only one here with PTSD nightmares? I have several questions about why nobody else is waking up screaming.

Three weeks at their mercy. Three weeks to be their plaything. I’ve misjudged him. Badly.

Chapter 6 summary: They continue along until they eventually get to a camp with a bunch of other people. They all have names, but don’t worry about them; none of these people are important. Anyway, one of the ladies pulls Callie aside and gives her some proper hiking boots instead of the “bedroom slippers” the aliens had given her. The woman explains that the aliens will make trades. However, the “benefactors” mentioned in the manual are literally non-existent. As Callie tries the boots on, the woman explains what the land is like. That once they tried to hike up to the top of the mountains, but had every trouble imaginable. The air was thin, there was a storm the entire time, wild animals would not stop attacking them… And when they reached the summit, they found that the other side was nothing but a literal sheer drop into nothing. “Like when they thought the earth was flat, you know? It just falls into nothing.” They want to try to go into the inner part of the arena, but the last group that went in… There was only one survivor who returned. Callie then explains what happened to the others. They express concern over Pierce’s lack of action against the trogs, and contemplate kicking him out from the group. Changing the subject, they ask Callie how she got tricked into coming in here. One guy was mugged in LA, and left for dead. The aliens patched him up and sent him there. One lady was on a cruise ship that crashed; she would have gone down Titanic style if not for the aliens. Are we working on Magical Madoka logic here? Time passes, and Callie keeps trying to read the manual, but finds none of the info actually useful. The important stuff she learns, it’s from the people who have been there for a while. Pierce frequently has screaming nightmares. When Callie finally asks some of the others about it, they tell her that Pierce had been held prisoner by trogs for 3 weeks. It makes him on edge and unreliable in a fight, but he can also tell whenever trogs are near… Which is pretty much the only reason why they keep him around anymore.

[romirola]

okay OKAY I have a sad request ;u; ❛  if this is the end, i’m really glad i get to be here with you.  ❜ <- my initial thoughts were milo and sweetheart during cataclysm, while Milo is in recovery and the others are off to save the world, but an AU with these two would work as well? bless you, romi ;u;

Ooh, this IS a sad request, @ejunkiet! Thank you for the prompt, though! I agree that this quote vibes with cataclysm, but I’ll admit, after the conclusion of that series, it’s not a universe I think I understand enough to write about confidently. So, I hope you don’t mind if I set us in the (sort of/speculative) canon universe. And, maybe infuse a little bit of light into the darkness that is this prompt… Yup. You guessed it. We’ve got a little Quinn-aftermath scene. 

Rated: M (kidnapping, discussion of/aftermath of graphic violence, mentions of Quinn); WC:~2.3K; Prompts: Milo/Sweetheart, “If this is the end, I’m really glad I get to be here with you.” 

This story will be added to my AO3 collection of oneshots, but the site is currently down, so I am going to post it in full here. I don't want to make you wait.

Read the story below.

Sweetheart stared up at the ceiling, counting a row of tiles and then a column. It was a technique they had learned in a Department training seminar they took years ago that discussed emergency situation operations. According to that serenity daemon instructor, counting the tiles and then multiplying the numbers to figure out the total number was a good way to nudge your brain into reorienting yourself after having experienced physical trauma. A reset. A way to stay calm and composed so that you could hold it together long enough to think rationally enough to survive whatever had fucked you up. 

But, it wasn’t working, Sweetheart thought sadly. 

They were still fucked and their brain must’ve been more scrambled than they realized. Sweetheart knew they had been locked away in some abandoned building, alone with this old-blood maniac for days, but they could’ve sworn they heard wolf snarls and bones breaking. They could feel air whizzing past their body, gusts of breath and movement stinging their skin, marred with countlessly bites and bruises. They could even feel the steel, ward-infused chains that had cruelly cut them off from their own powers, from a part of themselves they had always relied on, had worked to strengthen, had loved and cherished deeply. 

None of that was real, they told themselves. Those were hallucinations created out of their desperate prayers for help, clinging to the impossible hope that somehow, they’d be rescued from this hellhole. How many times since their capture had they escaped into the recesses of their mind, reliving happy memories that centered around their incredible mate, to distract themselves from the sheer agony that threatened to break them? 

Another wolf growl cut through Sweetheart’s awareness. It sounded just like Milo, though the sound was low, gravelly, and downright monstrous. More ferocious than they’d ever heard Milo, even when that had let that lone shade nab them during that fateful case all that time ago. 

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart!” 

Hands grasped their feeble body. The touch was gentle, loving. They had almost forgotten what that felt like after having been subjected to rough feedings and violent beatings, all interspersed with the horrific mockery and threats that were supposed to get them to spill the intel that would endanger everyone in their pack. 

They never broke. Not one iota of information spilled past their lips. 

Screams? Yes. Curses? Oh, yeah. And, most recently, some tight sobs? Those, too. 

But never anything of use. 

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me? Can you hear me?” The hands were moving across their body now, careful to avoid most of the cuts and bruises, as they supported their chest and head off of the floor and into something… something new. Warm. Comfortable. Safe. 

“M-M-Milo?” Sweetheart mumbled through cracked lips. “Milo?” They strained to tilt their head up, searching for him even when every neuron in their head told them it was impossible. "Are you really here?"

“I’m here, Sweetheart,” Milo assured them. He held them tightly in his strong arms. “I’m right here. I got you.” He sounded exhausted. Even in their weakened state, the stealth heard the faint tinge of worry running through Milo’s voice, even if his words were meant to help relax them. “I got you now. Everything’s gonna be alright.” 

Sweetheart melted into Milo’s arms, finally convinced that what they were perceiving was reality. He was here. Milo was here with them. 

“Quinn is dead,” Milo told them, barely able to hang onto his human form at the thought of the old-blood vampire having hurt his Sweetheart. Days ago, Quinn had strategically struck, forcing Sweetheart to pursue him alone or risk a bloodbath made up of a few innocent civilians. They had been using all of their resources at D.U.M.P. to find Quinn and call for his arrest, so Quinn felt it was necessary to retaliate with a brutal flair. Sweetheart had fought valiantly, but Quinn had the advantage of surprise and leverage. It wasn’t long before he took them away and taunted the wolfpack with little messages and clues that told them nothing of his whereabouts. 

Only of Sweetheart’s pain. And a demand for them to give up Darling in exchange for Sweetheart. 

<em>”The stealth for the misfit. Act fast, Alpha. This deal won’t last long. And neither will they." </em>

The voice messages (and Sweetheart's stifled screams in the background) would haunt Milo for years to come, but he couldn’t think about that now. He had more important things to take care of. Sweetheart’s wounds were gnarly and more than a few were visibly infected. They felt hot to the touch, but shivered in his arms. That told Milo they were feverish. No doubt they lost a lot of blood. Quinn’s bite marks left little to the imagination, littering their neck, their wrists, even their hips. The fingers on their left hand were all swollen and twisted out of alignment. Maybe broken. They had a black eye, perhaps a concussion.

Milo felt his blood boil with rage and his heart constrict with fear. He threaded his fingers into Sweetheart’s hair, disturbed to feel the dried blood and knots when he did so. “Easy now. Don’t move. You’re alright.” It pained him to admit it, but he had to wait for someone else to heal them, or else risk accidentally making their myriad of wounds worse. They needed a real healer. He cursed himself, flashing back to all those times he opted to learn only the barest minimum of healing at his mother’s insistence. If Milo had known he’d be in a position like this, he would’ve spent hours, day, years honing the craft so that he could ease his mate’s pain and save their life. It would’ve all been worth it. 

“You’re here!” Sweetheart beamed, snapping Milo out of his worries. When their mouth curled into a smile for the first time since their capture, the muscles in their face grew sore. “Hey.” They weakly tapped their wrist against Milo’s chest. "What took you so long? It's not like you to be late.” Sweetheart tried to force a laugh at their attempt at a joke, but all that came out was a thin, strained noise. The eerie noise trailed off into one, lone sob. Then another. Soon, a torrent of tears flooded their eyes, dripping down their face. Sweetheart crumpled into Milo, unable to do anything other than cry and shake. The full weight of their ordeal hit them like a punch to the gut. They had remained strong in the face of evil. But now that they were in the arms of mercy, they wept without care.

Milo kissed their forehead, slowly rocking back and forth as he held Sweetheart through their breakdown. "It's okay," the shifter whispered, as much for his own benefit as for Sweetheart's. "You're safe. I'm here. It's okay. Everything's okay. You're safe. He's gone. And I'm here."

“It… He… I…” Sweetheart gulped air, struggling to stop their cries just long enough to expel the rush of thoughts and feelings that rushed into their head. “Quinn s-s-said you were gonna leave me here,” they explained haphazardly, grabbing a fistful of Milo’s shirt. They didn’t say a word about the blood that stained his shirt. That alone spoke to how shaken they were. “And th-th-then he said you tried to attack, but he killed you before you even had a chance to fight. Th-then he’d laugh, tell m-m-me he was kidding.” They grew more distressed with every word. “I didn’t know what to believe! I didn’t know if you… If you…”

“I’m fine,” Milo soothed, angry but unsurprised to hear that Quinn had tortured his mate mentally as well as physically. “See? I’m fine.” He gingerly took Sweetheart’s hand and moved it over his heart, knowing that they often responded to the beat of his heart when they were tucked in bed together. “Everyone else is fine, too. Don’t worry. David and Sam are just taking care of a few things and they’ll get a healer here soon, okay? Really soon.” Milo swallowed. 

The whole pack, along with a handful of Solaires and some of the Keaton pack, had descended on Quinn like they were rabid. David and Darling had led the charge, with everyone else following close behind to join the fight. It was all a blur. One minute, Milo was taking a bite out of Quinn’s calf and the next, he was bounding down a staircase, feeling the pull of his mate’s aura. He’d let out a howl that he found Sweetheart before shifting to approach them. David answered immediately, promising to get there as soon as he could with Sam once they were finished with Quinn and healed up the injuries anyone received during the fight. 

“It… was… awful,” Sweetheart whimpered. “Everything hurts… He just kept feeding. Over and over again. I was so s-s-scared.” They began to cough, hard and wet, practically seizing in Milo’s arms. When they lifted their head, Milo felt his stomach flip over itself when he saw streaks of blood dribbling from their lips. 

Milo wasn’t a healer by trade, but he had learned enough from his mother to know that meant Sweetheart was bleeding internally. 

“I don’t… feel good.” Sweetheart screwed their eyes shut, face pulling taunt. “Can we go home now? Please, Milo?” 

Their head lolled across his chest. He quickly realized they were becoming less and less coherent with each passing second. “I’ll take you home, I promise, Sweetheart. I will, just as soon as we get you healed up.”

Sweetheart groaned. A pressure unlike anything they'd ever known exploded in their chest.

Milo felt them rest even more of their weight into his body. “Whoa, Sweetheart!” He shook them lightly, alarmed at how their eyes began to glaze over. “Stay with me!”

Sweetheart’s lips trembled as they tried to keep what little control over their muscles they had. After a pitiful moan, they smiled, but their expression didn’t lessen Milo’s anxiety one bit. They looked dazed, somewhere in between unconsciousness and reality. “If this is the end…” Sweetheart clumsily reached for Milo’s neck. “I’m really glad I get to be here with you.” They summoned every last bit of strength they had to brush their thumb up and down Milo’s neck, just like they always would. 

They didn't want to die, but at least they could spend their dying breath holding Milo.

“The end?!” Milo exclaimed. “No, no, no, this isn’t the end! Sweetheart, no! Hang in there, please. Please, we’re gonna get you healed and everything will be fine. Please, please, Sweetheart. I love you so much. Please, just hang on a little longer.” 

Sweetheart’s eyelids drooped and they fully folded into Milo. Desperate to do as Milo asked, even if they couldn’t think clearly anymore, Sweetheart tried to stay tethered to reality, even if their body screamed at them to let go and rest. 

“Rib punctured a lung… Try to get that taken care of first… Need more… Fever is ragin'”

In the distance, they heard Milo barking orders for Sam to help, for David to come right away, for anyone to help him heal Sweetheart. Before long, they felt the familiar hum of healing magic enter their body. The magic, most definitely vampiric, was thrust into them. It wasn't sloppily done by any means, but the magic certainly lacked the gentle, professional touch that Sam usually used. 

“How’s this…? …working? …I think… Still bleeding... I’m running out…”

Another bout of healing magic ripped through their gut, this one even more roughly formed but no less effective. They could’ve sworn that they recognized the aura. Could it be… David? 

Maybe if Sweetheart had their wits about them, they would have recognized the gravity of the situation. It would have dawned on them that their pack was racing to heal them all at once to save their life. But, instead of thinking about that, Sweetheart continued to float weightlessly, muscles thick and mouth dry, as they let their drowsy thoughts drift to Milo. 

They tried to open their eyes, but all they could see was empty darkness. It was cold. 

“No, no, Sweetheart! …not the end… I promised… I promised to take them home… I can… Focus… Please, Sweetheart… love you…”

They could barely untangle fantasy and reality when they felt a third surge of healing magic. This aura felt almost as familiar as their own. Milo, they realized slowly. Milo was healing them, too. His magic weaved its way through their body, laced with a warmth that offset the sharp discomfort that usually accompanied healing magic. 

Overwhelmed at the buzz of three separate sources of magic pulsing through their body, Sweetheart finally succumbed to the growing exhaustion.

When Sweetheart returned to consciousness, they found themselves tucked into the bed they shared with Milo. To their left was Aggro purring and kneading a bunched up fuzzy blanket that he was, no doubt, arranging for them. To their right was their mate, dozing softly beside them, his chin against their forehead. Sweetheart stirred a bit, stretching their arms and legs to find they were all still attached and, minus a few dull aches or pins-and-needles twinges, painless. They exhaled deeply, the rush of memories coming back to them in flashes. 

“Swee’hear’?” Milo asked through a yawn, willing himself awake to evaluate Sweetheart. "How you feeling?"

“Milo,” they whispered. They had so much more to say, yet they couldn’t figure out how to speak anything else. “I feel... Good. You…”

“Yeah,” Milo interrupted. “I told you, that wasn’t going to be our ending.” He pulled them a bit tighter to him, mindful of their injuries and the residual magic still infused in their fragile body. “You and me? We’re in it for the long haul.” He pressed a tender kiss to their forehead, sensing that Sweetheart was still in need of sleep. “Rest, Sweetheart. I’m right here.”

Content to know they were safe and loved, Sweetheart let Quinn’s memory fade away. They soaked in the healing touch of their mate and feel back to sleep.

[gothgirlmahi]

The Roommate

Pairing: Ghost!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You come back from another horrible date and your ghost roommate is there to comfort you. And maybe a little more.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: oral sex f receiving, getting down and dirty with a ghost

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

Another failed date under your belt. What’s new?

The latest guy was a self-proclaimed entrepreneur talking about crypto and tech start ups and you, know, you really wouldn't understand what I'm talking about, it's a little complicated.

Yup. That's what he said to you, the woman who had two more IT degrees than he did.

So yeah, that didn’t work out.

The door to your apartment unlocked and you stepped in, closing and locking the door behind you before throwing your purse onto the island in the kitchen. You kicked your heels off by the fridge before stumbling to the living room and collapsing on the couch with closed eyes.

You could feel the cold spot in the air before you saw anything and didn’t have to open your eyes to know your roommate had settled next to you.

“How was it?” Steve asked. You groaned as if you were in pain and he seemed to get the message.

“That bad, huh?”

You simply nodded.

“Damn. I’ll get the ice cream.”

You opened your eyes and saw Steve walking over to the fridge. Fully in his corporeal human form, not the usual ectoplasm or whatever the hell ghosts were made from. He could switch back and forth without exerting too much energy. You tilted your head to the side to admire his firm ass for a minute before laying your head back on the couch.

Steve was a sweetheart and your only saving grace some days. He had been living in your apartment long before you moved here. Much long before. He had once mentioned that he was born in 1918. It was a bit startling at first having a ghost as a roommate, but he was a cool guy. Besides, he had been here first. Before you'd gotten used to him, you had considered moving. Then you remembered how the rent was uncharacteristically low for Brooklyn. That was courtesy of Steve terrorizing everyone who moved in. Steve gave up on attempting to scare you when it was three weeks in and the continuously slamming cabinets, things disappearing, ghastly moaning and flickering lights didn't seem to faze you. You would just keep typing away on your laptop or looking at your phone like he wasn't there.

Your relationship evolved into something more when he realized you were here to stay for the foreseeable future. He got to know you and you got to know him. Steve physically couldn't leave as he was bound to the building and you rarely left because you worked from home and hated going out. When you did go out, things tended to go as they did tonight.

Steve came over to you with a bowl of your favorite ice cream and a spoon in hand. Once he handed it to you, he sat next to you and told you to turn the other way.

"Wha?" you asked with a mouth full of ice cream. Steve turned you until you were facing away from him. He dug his strong fingers into your shoulders, pressing into all the tense spots you'd accumulated during the day. You moaned out a little, perfectly content with a massage and ice cream.

Why did the only guy you really liked have to be dead?

Once you finished your bowl, Steve got up to take it to the kitchen. He came back to sit next to you, putting his hands back on your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your neck. You smiled.

"Oh, you're up to something," you teased. You felt him smile against the skin of your neck.

"Don't pretend you didn't like the last time I gave you a...massage."

You rolled your eyes. He'd given you a hell of a lot more than a massage.

"Steve, shut up."

"Okay." Steve pushed you gently to lay down on the couch. His hands raked down your body and over your abdomen down to your hips. He pushed the hem of your dress up over your stomach and looked at you with a bit of shock.

"No panties?"

"Maybe I thought I was gonna get lucky,"

"Oh, you're going to get lucky alright."

Steve positioned himself so he was eye level with your pussy. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh and looked up at you. God, his baby blues were so gorgeous. He kissed your thigh again before licking a broad stripe up your folds. You shivered in response, eager for what he had in store. His tongue circled your clit, flicking at it gently. You bucked forward and he held your hips still.

"Someone's excited," he murmured against you. You nodded.

"You always make me feel so good."

His plump lips wrapped around your clit, giving it a gentle suck and you squirmed on the couch, hand going down to rake through his blonde locks. He licked through your wet folds again before pressing a finger to your entrance. It slid in easily, meeting almost no resistance and he quickly slid another in, pumping you slowly as he felt around for your favorite spot.

When he found it, you nearly jumped off of the couch. He focused his attentions there, rubbing it vigorously and taking your swollen clit back into his mouth. The combination of sensations had you keening and pushing your hips closer to him. You were wet enough that your arousal was covering your thighs and leaking onto the couch below you. Steve carefully slid a third finger in and you gasped at the fullness.

His lips formed a glorious suction around your clit, gently massaging it with his tongue.

You fell apart, grinding against his face. Your hips jerked erratically but Steve held you in place so you could ride it out. You collapsed back while catching your breath, throwing an arm over your face.

“Are you feeling any better?” Steve asked. You thought about it briefly and smirked.

“Hmm. I think sitting on your face might make me feel a little better.”

“I live to serve, doll.”

“Live? Maybe not the right choice of words, Stevie.”

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

Mahi's Monster Mash

[cathey-winchester-666]

Mikey x Mechanic!Reader

Summary: A list of headcanons about Mikey's relationship with his mechanic. Gn!Reader (I didn't bother to read through, please let me know if I messed up the pronouns!!)

Warnings: Swearing, some violence, mentions of kidnapping??? (but it's just a joke), reader is a badass

How you first meet:

The first time you two meet, it is because he's somehow managed to damage his bike.

Like, to the point where all of the mechanics he goes to are like:

"Dude, this is unfixable"

"There's nothing I can do to help you now"

"I'm afraid you're just going to have to buy a new one"

And he' getting increasingly frustrated, but still refuses to give up

But then, one of them goes:

"Hey, I might know someone that can help"

And they give the address of this small, rundown shop in the middle of nowhere

At first they think it's deserted and they're ready to go back to that mechanic and give them a piece of their mind

But then the sound of a long string of cuss words comes from within

So Mickey and Draken go in further to investigate and find you,

Stuck head first inside the bonnet of the car

And they're both thinking:

"Seriously, this is the one supposed to help us."

But then they pull you out of the engine and turn you to face the bike, explaining the hopeless situation

You take one look and go:

"Yup! Sounds like challenge!"

And instantly get to work

Whilst working:

During the time that you're spent fixing the bike, Mikey is a constant visitor

And it hits a point where you hear footsteps and, without even looking up, you instantly go:

"No Mikey, I already told you, the bike isn't ready yet."

But the footsteps don't stop

And now all 5 feet of his badass blonde hair is breathing on your collarbone

"Mikey, I can't concentrate with you breathing down my neck like that."

"Right, sorry."

And he pulls away.

But only a little bit.

And now he's breathing on the back of your shoulder.

"Mikey!"

"Alright! Alright!"

He pulls away and goes to sit down on a stool so he can watch you work

His dark eyes follow every little move you make

He flinches every time the bike makes a sound it doesn't usually

And you have to sigh and reassure him that everything is fine

Constantly explaining what you're doing as you're working

Without even realising you're using smart engineering language that he doesn't even remotely understand

but he listens anyway because he's starting to like the sound of your voice

Sometimes Draken will come over and you'll get to use your proper engineering language because he's able to keep up with what you're saying

You'll also sometimes teach him some new stuff he didn't know before

He also helps out with the stuff that he does understand, so the process goes a lot faster

Mikey sits there all jealous because you two are getting along so well and you're really enthusiastic about whatever it is that you're talking about that he doesn't understand

He wants to stop you two but he also can't get involved in the conversation because he has no idea what you're talking about and he's trying to hide he's obvious jealousy

Draken 100% knows

Some nights, Mikey even stays at the workshop with you

There's a small couch in the corner of the garage that he sleeps on

You used to have to call Draken to come pick him up

Now, you just throw a spare blanket over his exhausted form

One night, you even brushed a piece of blond hair away from his face and his nose scrunched up very cutely before he leaned in slightly to your touch

Cue you having an absolute seizure over how cute this man is when he's all relaxed and passed out

Anywho

Whilst fixing the bike, there would definitely be moments when he would hop up and lean over your working space

You would look at him

Give a small smile and ask

"Do you want to give it a go?"

Cue the biggest, brightest, happiest smile on his face as he enthusiastically picks up the closest tool on hand

Which is often not even remotely the right one

And you fall even further as you try to explain, in the most basic terms humanly possible, how to go about fixing this area of the bike

When trouble comes a-knocking:

Being affiliated with the leader of the Toman gang

Trouble is naturally going to find you

Especially when news gets out that you're the only one capable of fixing the leader's most precious and prized possession

His bike

Luckily for you, you're a certified badass

The first group that came in looking for trouble was a rather small one

However, you know the kind of neighbourhood you live in

And you always do research on your clients so you know what you're getting yourself into

You knew this would happen

And you came prepared. ;)

So when they first rocked up at your door

You came at them, all guns blazing

You ever seen Home Alone (if not, I totally recommend)

Well, it was basically like that

T R A P S

All the classics

Hot iron in the face

Marbles and nails on the floor

Paint can to the head

Glue and feathers

And then the more deadly ones

Kerosene, oil or petrol (you work in a garage my dudes, there's never a short supply) and then once they're soaked, an innocent match has them screaming to get away

For this next one, you need a layout of the building

There is a second level, which is all but busted and destroyed, you've laid out planks along the ground of the second level and you know which parts are safe

Through the holes in the floor, you can drop all sorts of things

Hammers

Poles

Wrenches

Rats and mice

Childhood trauma

You name it

And if anyone makes it to the second level, chances are, they'll end up falling through the floor

If they realise where it is safe to stand, keep in mind, you're super ripped from working machinery all day every day

And you've been practicing where it's safe to stand on this roof for a fight for as long as you can remember

Moving up there is second nature to you, an instinct, if you will

But it's all completely new to them

And, if I hadn't mentioned it before, you're a badass

So, by the time Mikey and his crew rock up at the garage, ready to take on a small army,

You've already got the entire enemy gang on the floor crying and begging for mercy whilst you stand over them, confidently swinging a mallet with a menacing grin on your face

And Mikey finds himself falling for you, just that little bit more

Once the bike is finished:

Once you've finally finished the bike

Mikey is instantly at your side

And you take a step back as he slowly examines every little section of the bike

And he's in awe

Not just because it's a spitting image of the real thing

But because it still has all the memories

The scratch from when he and Draken thought it was a good idea to attempt riding in the forest

That one time he tried to flirt with a lady by leaning on his bike, and inevitably knocked it over

All those little things

And you'd managed to keep them

"THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK-"

God, it takes forever to finally shut him up

"So, how much do I owe you?"

You'd thought about your answer to this for a while and finally come to the conclusion of what you really wanted out of this

"Well that depends, how much are you willing to pay?"

"Anything. You can't put a price on this bike, I assure you."

"Well in that case."

With a final deep breath, you place a hand on your hip and cock it, pointing a finger at Mikey's face

"I'd like to work as your gang's permanent mechanic!"

His reply startles you

"You heard them, Pah-chin, the kidnapping is off."

There's an audible sigh from behind you and the mentioned male slumps out from the shadows, a felt bag and some rope in hand

"... and this is???"

You turn to ask Mikey

"Well it was going to be a kidnapping."

A dejected Pah-chin answers for the blonde

Bitch, I beg your pardon, it was going to be a what now

"You were planning to KiDnAp mE???"

"Welcome to Toman!"

He cheers as he wheels his fixed bike out of the shop

"THAT DOESN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION!"

[jxckyx3]

God, I don't even know at this point but this prompt dates back to like... probably two years ago?

(⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

If I remember correctly, I got this idea by watching a show called 'Last Man Standing' on NBC I think? It's hard to remember what television network it was, but I just thought it was cute and funny so here ya have it!!!

❤️🖤❤️

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Ship: Team 6 poly

Top(s): Tyler, Brian & Marcel

Switch(s): Evan & Jon

Bottom: Nogla

AU: Team 6

Setting: /

Type: Fluff

Warning ⚠️: This chapter contains heavy swearing, sexual comments, friendly stalking, mention of sexual harassment, flirtatious comments and other mentions or situations that may disturb, trigger or offend the viewer. Reader's discretion is advised.

__________________________________

Evan's pov -

"Just like this?" I asked cluelessly, frowning in deep concentration as I mixed the deep red paste with the whisk.

Jon peered over my shoulder, chuckling lightly before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

"Yup! Just like that." He said, smiling sweetly before returning back to the oven to check the cake.

He had wanted to bake a cake to celebrate us moving into our new house. I didn't necessarily know how to bake a cake, let alone a red velvet cake, so he wanted to teach me.

When starting out YouTube career--or trying to start, it wasn't as easy as we thought it would be. We had underestimated all those more famous YouTubers and we realized we couldn't always come off as cocky and rude.

It wasn't a lie that we had put on fake personas when we started, trying desperately to be liked. But after a year or two of trying, we realized how tiring it was and decided to just be ourselves for once.

So we dropped the vlog cams, dropped our fake personalities and decided to just start gaming.

After a year of doing what we actually loved, we had started to get recognition and grew from there.

We weren't really confident in being totally personal online but we didn't want to be fake anymore and came out to our little bit of fans.

It seemed after that, that they had started to like us more. We got more views, more likes and even got sponsors by bigger companies.

During our big realization that we just needed to not care what people thought of us anymore, we decided to move out of our big house that had more rooms than needed and bought a much smaller house big enough for just the six of us.

It had one room but that's exactly what we wanted. The room was large, so that was an upside considering all the clothes and personal belongings we had.

It had two bathrooms, one upstairs and one down. The living room was large, we had an even larger office where we did our recordings--it wasn't very efficient to record in the same room at once, but the fans thought it was funny. Especially when we'd lash out at eachother or tackle one another for fun.

Our kitchen was huge--which was a good thing since my boyfriends loved to cook. And we had a few other entertainment rooms which just had most of our personal stuff. Like collectors items and shit.

The front door was just over to the left of the living room where we had a nice big entrance area and lastly we had a back door connecting to the kitchen. Placed right next to our garage door.

Of course, we weren't entirely big on the internet still, so we had gotten a few jobs here and there. Just the minimal wage because we didn't want to overwork ourselves with stress and all that.

We moved to this new house not too long ago and we were still getting used to the change of setting.

The neighborhood was friendly, filled with kids, parents, elderly and other residents. It was quite large actually, and it took some time for us to remember to not be too loud.

The town was big as well, but it was crowded and the buildings were all pushed really close together. The streets were always full with traffic, there was always kids running around. Going to and from school and what not.

Not to mention that we found ourselves having to be more social than planned.

Back when we lived in our old house in the forest, we never really talked to many people. Hell, we never even went out much. If any of us needed anything, we'd just Dash it.

But now, we had to be more open to friendly chit chat and randomly getting compliments. Especially since half of us worked as waiters or cashier's at grocery stores.

I didn't really mind though. It was different but...it was a good different.

"I'm baaack!"

I smiled, turning to the back door upon hearing the cheery voice.

"Hi loves!" Nogla greeted, wrapping his arms around Jon's neck, who was already pulling him in close and into a kiss.

I set the bowl down on the counter, making my way over to the two. Nogla pulled away from Jon and moved over to me, smiling as he leaned down and gave me the same treatment.

I hummed happily, reaching a hand up into his dark hair.

"Mm, smells good in here. Whatcha makin'?" He asked, pulling away from me.

"Jon wanted to make cake to celebrate the move- and, for hitting two million on our channel." I said, pulling out my phone.

Nogla gasped at that, his eyes lighting up.

"We did?! When?" He asked excitedly, taking the phone from me once I got to our shared account. Jon chuckled at his little fit, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Just three hours ago. It hit before we even started to bake the cake." Jon said, peeking over Nogla's shoulder to look at the number on the phone.

Nogla sighed in happiness, biting his lip and staring for a second before handing me the phone back.

"Time ta hit t'ree next." He said, earning a chuckle in agreement from Jon. I snorted.

"If you wanted to do that, you could always just go in the back yard." I joked, earning a loud laugh from Jon and an exaggerated huff of offense from Nogla.

"Y'know what? I'm not sucking yer dick tonight." He said, grinning down at me as my smile dropped.

"Who's getting the 'no-sex' penalty now?"

I looked over to see Marcel walk in, looking sweaty as he sipped his water bottle. I frowned, raising a brow in confusion.

"Well me, because I said something offensive, but better question, why the hell are you so damn sweaty?" I asked, watching as Marcel came in and set his bottle down on the counter, making his way over to Nogla.

"Was working out. I ate too much sweets these last few days and decided to do something about it before it got bad." He said, trying to hug Nogla. Who was definitely no having it, considering Marcel was wet and sticky.

"Ewie! Get yer sweaty hands away from meh!" He squealed, running away to hide behind Jon when Marcel made no attempt at listening to him.

"Work out? Weren't you supposed to pick David up from work?" Jon asked, taking the words right outta my mouth. Marcel sighed in delight, finally managing to wrap his arms around Nogla and hold him in a strong hold.

Much to Nogla's displeasure, might I add.

"Yup! But I decided to let him walk today." He explained, earning a hum in confirmation from Nogla.

"What?!" Jon exclaimed, pouting as he looked to Marcel.

"What?" He asked, taking the chaste kiss from Nogla before moving to the sink to splash cold water on his face.

"Ya can't just let him walk home, Mar! Y'know how many sketchy people roam around his work area." Jon huffed, setting his hands on his hips as he looked up at Marcel.

"Well, of course I know that. But David wanted to and I wasn't just gonna say no. Look at him!" He said in defense, gesturing his hand over to Nogla.

He glanced up at us, quickly taking his finger out of the bowl of frosting I had been mixing to give us an sweet smile, swaying back and forth like an innocent child.

"Ugh, no wonder he's the only bottom." I muttered, earning a scoff in offense from him.

"And that's also why we can't just have him walk home by himself. It's too dangerous." Jon said, giving Marcel more of a concerned tone than of anger.

Marcel sighed, nodding in understanding.

"I know, I know. But David's an adult, he can handle himself... mostly." Marcel said nervously, leaning against the counter. I sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Nogla worked as an assistant manager at a library. The women who owned the place was very old and Nogla worked hard enough to get promoted over there.

The library was big and local, so it had lots of people going in and out twenty four seven.

The thing was, the place was known to have a lot of drug dealing going on in there, it was near a hot spot for bad people and there was always criminal activity in or around it when broadcasted on the local news. Or so I heard anyways.

It could all easily just be rumours, but we weren't willing to take that chance.

It wasn't like we were just gonna force Nogla to quit his job because of it all either. He loved that job because he doesn't have to talk that much and he just loves books. And second, he pulled most of the money in that we needed to pay for the bills with so we couldn't just drop that.

So instead, we had just drove him to and from work whenever we didn't have a shift. It was easier that way for all of us.

"Hey, I'm a grown man." Nogla butted in, a small pout on his lips as he continued to stick his fingers into the frosting.

"No offense Daithi, but you're a sissy lala. You can't even look at a roach without screaming like a little girl." Jon said, trying to be as nice as possible about it. Marcel and I laughed in agreement, earning a raspberry in return.

"Nu-uh!" He retorted, glaring half heatedly.

"Yes huh. Now stop sticking your little fingers in the icing or I'm gonna stick my dick where the sun don't shine." Jon grinned, pulling the bowl away and smacking Nogla's ass.

He yelped in reaction, his face burning as red as the icing as we all laughed at Jon's remark.

"Well- I...ugh!" Nogla groaned, not being able to come up with a comeback. We laughed even harder at that, causing his face to burn darker--if that was even possible.

"Fine, ye don't get ta fuck me tonight either!" He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. That only made Jon smirk up at him, setting the bowl down and swiftly bending Nogla over the counter.

A small squeak escaped his lips as Jon leaned over his body, placing his mouth right next to his ear.

"I don't think ya get to decide that sweetheart." He teased flirtatiously. Nogla whined in defeat, trying to push himself back up.

"Argh! I hate t'at ye guys are stronger t'en me." He complained, earning a laugh from Jon.

"And that's exactly why you can't go walking the streets alone, let alone taking the public bus." He said, pulling off of Nogla and helping him stand up straight.

"Eh- but I want ta! I like walking! Helps me think. Plus, today I passed a really pretty park surrounded in big rose bushes! Ya should've seen it." He said happily, a wide smile breaking to his face and replacing the earlier blush.

I sighed, frowning over to Jon as Nogla started to ramble to Marcel about what he had seen and all the different colors of roses.

Of course the two of us didn't like the idea of letting Nogla roam town alone, and I knew that Brian and Tyler would like it even less than us.

But if this is what made him happy, then we had to respect that.

"We thinkin' the same thing?" Jon asked, lifting a brow at me. I hummed, nodding in response.

I glanced up at Marcel and Nogla, who had stopped mid conversation when Jon spoke up.

"Okay...you can walk home from time to time," I started. Nogla started to smile and clap happily before I could finish.

"But," I said, watching as he immediately stopped and gave me a look of hope. I smiled at that, finding the expression all to adorable.

"But you have to watch where you're going, keep your phone out at all times and if you feel like your being followed, go to the most public area you can find and call the police. Or better yet, one of us so we can come pick you up." I sighed, earning a wide smile in return.

Nogla bounced forward and pulled me and Jon in a big hug, squishing us into his chest tightly despite his slim, weak arms.

"Awww, I love ye guys!" He said in a high pitched voice, still somehow jumping up and down with us.

I chuckled lightly, pressing my hands to his back as the others laughed along.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get too ahead of yourself. You gotta do the honors of telling the other two." Marcel piped up, making Nogla stop mid excitement and drop the two of us.

"Shit." He cursed, drooping over the counter in defeat as he already knew what they were gonna think. And those two were the most protective and possesive out of all six of us.

"Ah, don't worry Nogla. I'm sure they'll understand why you wanna do it." I encouraged, rubbing reassuring circles on his back as he sat himself in one of the bar stools.

"Mhm! Plus, ya give mean head. I'm sure they'll give in if you offer a few blow jobs." Jon grinned, pulling his oven mitts on to pull the cake out of the oven.

The sweet smell of red velvet filled the kitchen as he did so, warming up the room. I inhaled deeply, already feeling my mouth water.

"Ye know what? I'm not even embarrassed by t'at. I take it as a compliment." Nogla sighed, setting his work bag down on the floor and folding his hands on the counter.

"Your blush says otherwise love." Marcel said, placing a kiss on his cheek as he seated himself right next to him.

I laughed at the glare Nogla sent his way, picking up the bowl of icing to help Jon finish the cake.

Third pov -

"What time is it?" Brian asked, glancing at his wrist to check his watch.

"Mmm." Evan hummed with a shrug of his shoulders, reaching towards the coffee table to grab a handful of chips from the clear bowl.

It was Saturday and none of the guys had any shifts this week. Valentines day had passed a few days ago, so they were all given a week off.

Well, except for Nogla. The owner had called in sick so he had offered to help the new employee while the owner was out.

"Oh...oh, shit. It's Saturday... Nogla's coming home soon." Brian mumbled, staring down at his watch for a few seconds before grumbling audibly and lowering himself into the couch.

Tyler groaned in agreement, throwing his head back in frustration.

"Why did we have to come up with that stupid agreement anyways?" He huffed, flopping down and laying his head in Marcel's lap.

The guys had all collectively came up with the agreement, that Nogla would walk home every other day of the week. Brian and Tyler weren't entirely happy about it, but Nogla was able to convince them.

"Because we care about his happiness and we trust him to make adult choices without needing our permission." Marcel said, running a hand though his boyfriend's hair. Evan chuckled.

"And because he gives good blow jobs." He reminded the two, small smiles breaking onto their faces.

"He really does." Brian moaned, staring up at the ceiling.

"Jesus Christ, don't get hard!" Marcel exclaimed, noticing the expression on Brian's face. It was the look he had on whenever he was aroused.

"Anyways, we did it because we love him." Evan laughed, throwing his legs over Brian's lap. The Irishman simply pouted, frowning in defeat as he ran his fingers over the muscles in Evan's leg.

"It's not tat I don't trust him. I don't trust 'is work area." He mumbled, earning a humm of agreement from Tyler. Marcel clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes at the two.

"You guys are over exaggerating." He said with a fond smile, resting his hand over Tyler's face to annoy him.

The American huffed, pulling his boyfriend's hand away and pulled into his chest, intertwining their fingers instead.

"They talk about sexual harassment and loitering criminals on the news all the fuckin' time. How could I not over exaggerate?" He asked rhetorically, looking down at their hands with an even bigger pout than Brian.

Marcel glanced up at Evan, the two of them exchanging a smile.

Despite both Brian and Tyler being the most masculine and anger infused out of all six of them, they tend to get like this whenever they weren't getting their way.

It happened more often than expected and the rest of the guys always loved it because they honestly found it cute and hilarious.

Very uncharismatic of the two.

"It's the news, Ty. They're the masters of over exaggerating. Well, besides Google but you get my point. They just say anything to get a unique and big story." Marcel said, giving his boyfriend's hand a soft squeeze with his own.

Tyler merely grunted in response.

The four sat in an awkward silence for some time, Evan and Marcel not knowing what else to say to reassure their boyfriend's.

Then, there was a sudden knock at the door. Brian was the first to shoot up, shoving Evan's legs off his lap and running to the door.

Expecting to see his Nogla, he opened the door with a wide welcoming smile, only to drop upon seeing a tall man dressed in a police attire.

"Uh- hello officer. How can I...help ya?" Brian asked slowly, standing up professionally as he looked up at the cop in confusion.

The rest of the guys stiffened at that, turning their heads to see what was going on.

"Hello sir. You must be Brian Hanby? I believe I have something that belongs to you." He greeted with a tip of his hat.

Before Brian or even any of the guys could question him, the cop turned around and gently pulled Jon up the steps by his arm, moving to undo the cuffs on his wrists.

"Oh my god. Oh my god Jon, what did ye do now?" Brian asked with a loud sigh, running a hand over his face.

Jon's mouth dropped in offense, glaring slightly as the cop released his hands.

"Excuse me?! I didn't do nothin'!" He exclaimed, rubbing his wrists as he moved into the house. He moved to the couch and plopped down like a child who had just gotten grounded from his playstation.

Hands crossed over his chest and everything.

"So...then why did you get sent home by a cop?" Evan asked, smiling slightly in amusement. Jon just stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend, the cop laughing at the boyfriends' shenanigans.

"No actually, he was wandering around the local library? The one just downtown. I got a few complaints about another loitering criminal." He explained with a slight laugh, earning a groan fom Marcel.

"Jon, what did I say? David is old enough to walk back from work by himself. He's fine, nothing bad is gonna happen to him." He scolded, the other averting his gaze in self disappointment.

"I know, but he's too pretty. Someone's gonna snatch him up if we're not careful." He whined, earning a roll of Evan's eyes.

"Anyways, how did ye know my name might I ask?" Brian asked, looking back to the cop. The officer chuckled, gesturing back over to Jon.

"Your boyfriend is quite the rambler under pressure. All I had to do was cuff him and ask what he was doing there. Practically told me everything about you all. Not to mention that David greets me every morning since I'm part of the security team on that side of town." He explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

Tyler burst out laughing, dropping Marcel's hand to roll over and accidentally land on the carpet with a grunt.

"Shut up! I thought he had a warrant for my arrest or some shit!"Jon shouted, only causing his boyfriend to laugh even harder despite the fact that he was lying face first on the floor.

Evan was laughing too. But not because the fact that Jon was horrible when it came to cops. But because the way Tyler had fell.

Marcel simple sighed, shaking his head lovingly.

Brian rolled his eyes with a smile, turning back to the cop once more. He glanced down at his name plate that was right next to his badge.

"Thank you officer Daniels, I promise that this won't happen again. Right Jon?" He asked, raising a brow over at his boyfriend. He earned a puff of breath in response.

"Right, Jonathan?" He tried again, this time more stern yet still keeping on his flashy smile.

Jon glanced at him from the comer of his eye, knowing that look on his boyfriend's face. He knew he'd be in deep trouble if he didn't obey.

"Yeah, whatever." He stuck his tongue out, earning a satisfied laugh from the other.

"Welp, I should get back to work. Let's hope we don't have another incident like this again gentlemen, yes?" Officer Daniels said, giving the guys one last smile and chuckle before heading down the path.

Brian gave him a friendly wave, shaking his head as he shut the door.

"Jon..." Marcel started.

"Can it bitch, I hear ya." Jon grumbled, taking Tyler's old place and setting his head in Marcel's lap.

"Ugh, you guys are unbelievable." He muttered, shaking his head with a happy smile.

"At least Evan's got my back on this. Right Ev?" He said, glancing to the second couch. He blinked, seeing the Canadian staring down at his phone.

"Ev?" He asked.

"Huh?! Nothing!" He shouted, fumbling with the small device and dropping it into the carpet.

Marcel frowned in confusion as Evan cursed, reaching for the phone. But Tyler was faster, reaching over from his spot on the floor and snatching the phone right outta his boyfriend hands.

"What's this?" He asked curiously, darting his eyes around the screen.

"I said nothing!" Evan exclaimed, trying to yank his phone back. But Tyler was faster, wrapping his legs around Evan's waist when he got close enough to hold him in place as he inspected the phone.

The screen was white, with yellow and grey lines randomly placed. It was only then that Tyler realized that they had addresses, and the lines were actually roads.

"Is this...are you tracking Nogla?" Tyler asked, handing the phone over to Marcel as he finally let go of Evan, who had been biting into his knee to break free.

"Uh...no?" He muttered, laying on Tyler's stomach.

Marcel huffed loudly, taking a well needed breath before setting the phone down.

"Like I said. Unbelievable." He muttered in disappointment. He was slightly insulted that the guys didn't trust Nogla enough to let him walk home. And that they didn't trust Marcel enough to believe him when he said Nogla was fine.

He understood why they were so worried. He really did. But they needed to let it go. Nogla was an adult, and he wanted to be treated like one.

Marcel wanted to respect that, as well as have the rest of the guys respect it as well.

"Look guys, I'm sure he's fine. He knows his way there and back by now." He said, trying to comfort them.

"Uh...he's turning the wrong street." Brian suddenly said. At that, all eyes turned to the Irishman, who had picked up the phone in curiosity and was watching the big red dot that blinked as it moved along the yellow lines on the screen.

Marcel quickly snatched the phone from his boyfriend, feeling a wave of worry crash into him despite him being the most supportive of the little fucker.

"Eh, he's probably just chasing a butterfly or something..." He tried to excuse, forcing a small wavery smile as he watched the dot turn into the more unfamiliar streets that they haven't been to yet.

It was still near the library, but it was heading into the opposite direction of their house.

"Uh...at thirty-five miles per hour?" Tyler asked, peeking over Marcel's shoulder as he saw the speed of the dot at the top right corner.

All of their stomachs dropped at that, getting increasingly more concerned.

"Yeah he doesn't run that fast, let's go!" Marcel said worriedly, handing the phone back to Evan and bolting for the door with the guys not too far behind him.

They quickly threw on their shoes and their jackets that sat organized at the entrance area, running out the door in record time.

The house sat quiet, nothing but the sound of the cars engine outside.

"I made it!" A voice called.

Nogla walked in to the living room from the kitchen, having used the back door again.

He frowned, seeing not a single one of his boyfriends in sight.

"Lads?" He called, still earning no response. He pushed his lips into a pout of thought, setting his work bag down.

"Huh..." He muttered, scratching his neck as he glanced around the messy room.

"Probably out shoppin' er some shit." He said was a wave of his hand, rolling his sleeves up and beginning to clean up the mess they left behind.

_

"Speed the fuck up!" Brian shouted.

"I'm trying! We're near a school zone though, dumbass!" Tyler yelled back, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

"That car! That car right there! Chase that fucker!" Evan exclaimed, glancing up from his phone to point out the small black car.

Tyler stayed close to the vehicle, practically riding the driver's ass as his boyfriend's continued to shoot and wave the car down.

Eventually, they caught the driver's attention, pulling over on the side of the street.

Jon was the first to hop out, stomping over to the car as the driver hesitantly rolled his window down.

"Oh hello! Why can I do for- ahh!" The man made a noise of shock as Jon grabbed him by the collar, practically pulling him out of his seat and pulling his upper body out the window.

"Where is he?!" He shouted, not caring that bystanders started to stare as the guys raided the man's car without permission.

"W-what? Who? I-i dunno-"

"David, you fuck! Where is he?!" Jon continued, shaking the man as he pulled him closer. Half of his body was now hanging out of the car and he looked absolutely terrified.

"D-david? The as-assistant manager? H-he left a f- a few minutes ago. Like, fif-fifteen I'd s-say?" He stuttered shamefully, holding his hands up as Jon tightened his grip, his glare menacing.

"Found his jacket." Marcel informed, pulling the dark green coat from the back seat that Evan had placed the tracker in.

Tyler growled, grabbing the man from Jon's grasp and fully yanking him out of the car with a loud yelp.

"Where the fuck is he?!" He demanded, slamming his back into the car.

"I dunno, I swear! He left a little bit ago!" The man cried, looking as if he'd literally cry any second now.

"Then why do you have his jacket?" Evan asked, shaking his head as he gestured to the article of clothing.

The man glanced over at him, trying to muster up words to explain himself.

When David told him about his boyfriend's...he didn't expect this.

_

"Hi! Where were ye guys? I got worried when ye weren't here!" Nogla said cheerfully, opening his arms with a welcoming smile as the guys tumbled into the kitchen.

They all quickly rushed over to him, all trying to hug him at once despite his slightly messy state from cooking.

"Oh!" He said in surprise, holding his arms up and stiffening as his boyfriends hugged him tightly.

Of course, they always tended to show him and eachother affection. But he's never seen them be this clingy before. Especially without an explanation for it.

Tyler was the first to pull back, grabbing Nogla's face in both hands and pressing a rough, intense kiss to his lips before pulling back.

"We love you, so fucking much." He stated, eyes looking determined as he stared down into Nogla's green flustered orbs.

"O...kay?" He said with a small smile, narrowing his eyes at the rest of them.

Now he was very confused. His boyfriends were still very embarrassed about using the L word. Especially Tyler, so this was really new to him.

"Are ye guys okay?" He asked, finally managing to breath as they all let go of him.

"Yeah, we were...we were just a bit worried." Marcel admitted, however not wanting to tell Nogla about their whole trip and how they almost killed his new employee.

Nogla frowned, tilting his head at them with a confused smile before chuckling lightly.

"Well I'm fine!" He said happily.

It wasn't like he was gonna ask why they were worried, why they weren't home when he got here and why they looked like they had just robbed a bank.

He had already knew. Seeing as the newbie from work used his emergency contact to call him and inform him of how crazy his boyfriends were.

He knew better than to mention all that. Instead, he was just happy they were home. Safe and sound.

"So...you traded your jacket for a box of chocolate?" Brian asked, eyeing his boyfriend in disbelief.

Nogla giggled, nodding in confirmation.

"Yup! It was a steal too." He said, turning and grabbing the large heart shaped box from the counter and showing it off to them.

Tyler and Marcel exchanged a glance, both as equally wanting to say something about how dangerous and stupid that was. However they couldn't bring themselves to do it.

Nogla's happy smile was simply too adorable.

"Ye know, ye're a pain." Brian said, saying what they were thinking instead. Nogla laughed at that, shrugging his shoulders as he set the box back down.

"Well, back ta makin' dinner. We're having lasagna tonight." He informed, turning around and going back to layering the dish.

"Yeah...we were just a bit worried." Marcel muttered, feeling slightly disappointed in himself.

All this talk about how the guys needed to trust their boyfriend and here he was being just as bad. He looked over, glancing at the rest of them.

On the other hand, the others were stuck staring at the taller Irishman, watching him cook in interest.

He still had on his casual work clothes and wore a green apron over them. The strings tightened at his back and cinched his waist, showing off his curves beautifully. He wore a head band to hold his dark, curly hair back and he still had on his glasses instead of switching them out with his contacts like usual.

It was no wonder they loved this man so dearly. He truly was irresistible.

"You're right Jon. He is too pretty to be left alone." Marcel gave in, sighing in defeat as the other hummed.

"See? What'd I tell ya?" He teased, smirking as Nogla turned around and raised a confused brow at them.

"Who?" He asked, not having heard the conversation they had too long ago when the officer had dropped Jon off.

"Nothing important love. Just continue what ya were doin' and look pretty." Brian waved him off, earning a small blush before Nogla obligated and faced back the other way.

"Oh yeah. Just like that." Tyler smirked as he leaned against the counter. His eyes trialing down Nogla's back until they stopped at his ass, chuckling lustfully.

"You guys are perverts." Evan smiled, grabbing the box of chocolate from the counter to eat some.

"And what?" Jon said in defense, tone offended but his eyes never leaving Nogla's body.

The Irishman rolled his eyes, smiling to himself as he heard his boyfriends banter and argue shamelessly.

Oh how he loved them so much.

5572 words    

__________________________________

Believe it or not, I finished this in only two days! Ha!

Well I hope you liked it and I hope y'all had a great day!!

Until next time, my loves!! (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

❤️🖤❤️

- Jacky       

__________________________________

Featured or mentioned characters:

Main -

Nogla - Nogla, David, Daithi

VanossGaming - Evan, Ev

H2ODelirious - Jon

BasicallyIDoWrk - Marcel

Terroriser - Brian

IAmWildcat - Tyler

[wandanatfluff]

The Life That's Left To Live - Part I - Take Me Home

Series (This part:) Fluff

Prologue | Part I

Summary series: You’re a little girl when the avengers find you. Natasha becomes kind of a mother to you. Then about 7 years later when you’re 21 you go live with the avengers again for a while, because they need your help with something. The avengers are like a family to you. Wanda is still new to the avengers and doesn’t know what happened in your past. You sleep in Wanda’s room in an extra bed and the two of you become friends. You are a quite happy, social and spontaneous girl, but there’s a sad/depressed side to you that sometimes comes to the surface.

Summary of this part: Natasha calls you with information about your brother and you go to the Avengers compound, where you meet Wanda.

Pairing: Natasha (mother figure/mentor) x Female Reader Wanda (platonic (for now at least)) x Female Reader

Warnings for this part: -

Word count: 2.2 K

A/n: To be honest I think it turned out okay, I spent quite a while on this. Title: Take Me Home, by Chord Overstreet. The fic isn’t directly based or related to the song. The title just fits ;-). The series title is a line from Love Is War, by RUNAGROUND. I hope you enjoy it!

Source: Pinterest

Absentmindedly you listen to the person in front of you. Some annoying colleague that is going on and on about a something that you would have done wrong. They had been going on for almost ten minutes and by now, you had stopped listening. Your mind drifted off to happy memories. It was something you did quite often. By reliving old memories once in a while, they would become recent in your mind again, which made it easier to go back to them, when you were feeling low. You thought about your younger self on the back of your brother’s bike, your small arms wrapped around his waist, your head pressed against his back. It had been his birthday and he had gotten a new bike. You didn’t like bikes, but when he asked for you to ride along the neighborhood with him, you gave in. Your childhood was filled with a lot of fear, but your brother always seemed to take that away. He was in almost all of your joyful memories. He was your safe place.

Your phone chimed, snapping you back into reality. You excused yourself from the ‘conversation’ and left the room. Once you close the door, you answer your phone.

“I owe you Nat! You saved me!”

“Hey Y/n… What did I save you from?”

“Some colleague, who was being incredibly tedious.”

“Need me to kill anyone?”

“Uhm… No. But what are you calling about?”

“We got new information about your brother and we need your help with it.” You fell silent for a moment at the mention of your brother.

“Oh... What is it?”

“I’m sorry Y/n, I can’t tell you over the phone. You’ll have to come to the compound.”

“Okay… I can do that. I’ll leave tomorrow morning and be there around dinner time?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

After cooking yourself some dinner you went to your room to pack. You dug deep in your closet to find your weekend bag. It had been a while since your last trip. You don’t travel that much. To be honest, you don’t travel at all. Your daily routine leaves just enough time for your daily work-out, some me-time and occasionally a movie. Staying busy avoids overthinking stuff, or well… overthinking more specific things. It took you a while to build up a routine. Have breakfast, work out, drive to the office, do your work, pretend to listen to the gossip from your fellow colleagues during the lunch break. Not that anything about your life is very challenging, but it’s just enough to keep you satisfied and to survive. Every now and then when you have a day off, you go shopping with a friend.

You are quite the cheerful girl. You are spontaneous and kind, people get along with you. You have a few friends, but none really close. The only close friends or family you have, are Nat, Steve, Tony, Clint, Thor and Bruce and you haven’t seen them in the while.

You had to empty your entire closet, but you finally found your white weekend bag with the subtle, pastel flowers pattern. You smile at it. It had been a gift from Nat. You used to have a boring and old grey bag, so she had bought you a new one. After you throw the bag on your bed, you start to fill it with clothes. You had no idea how long you’d be gone, so you packed for five days. Once your bag was fully stuffed you zipped it closed and threw it over your shoulder, making you way back to the living room.

You throw your bag next to the counter and are just about to get yourself some coffee, when the bel rings. You grab your phone and see Natasha standing in front of your door through the camera. Natasha had bought you a doorbell with a camera, to be sure you were as safe as possible when she wasn’t there. Aware of the camera she smiled at you through it. You chuckle at the sight and walk to the door to open it for her. Moments like this remind you of how amazing Natasha is. She had the key to you appartement, but chose not to use it, so she wouldn’t unnecessarily scare you.

“Surpriseee, figured I’d pick you up myself!”

“Hey Nat, come in!”

You take her jacket and hang it on the coat rack.

“How are you doing?”

“Good, actually. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just coffee, please.”

“Got it.”

You go back to the counter and get yourself and Nat some coffee. You open the fridge and get two pieces of the pie that is left from your graduation ceremony. With two slices of cake and the coffee you go to the living room. You hand Natasha, who has sat down on the couch, her coffee and put the cake on the side table.

“Oehh, is there something to celebrate?”

“Yup… I got a job!”

“Y/n! I am so proud of you. I knew you could do it!” Tears begin to well in Natasha’s eyes and she puts down her coffee to give you a hug. You bury you head in her neck and let out a small sniff. She knew what it meant for you to get your first real job. The small party one of your friends threw had been basic. Everyone had congratulated you, but Natasha was the only one who truly took her time to express her happiness. She was the only one who knew what it meant to you. It had been a long way, a long, long way, but you made it! You did it!

She had been there with Steve when you graduated. She had driven six hours, just because she knew what it would mean to you, having her there. It had been a surprise, she hadn’t told you she was coming, so when you saw her from the stage you had broken down in tears.

You catch up a bit, after which you both go to bed. You turn the sofa into a bed for Natasha so she can sleep on it, but before you rest your eyes, Natasha helps you fill another suitcase with clothing. She laughed at the sight of your single bag and suggested you’d pack another suitcase.

*** After six hours of sleep Natasha wakes you up. You take the time to get out of your bed, you take a shower and put on some make-up. In a pair of light skinny jeans and a lively orange tank top, that complemented you tan, you sit down at the kitchen island. Natasha had made you breakfast and after you finished it, you got in the car. The ride would take about six hours, so before hitting the road, you stopped at the supermarket to get some snacks and drinks for on the way. After three hours you had a pit-stop at the MacDonald’s to get some lunch. You ordered the food via the McDrive and ate it in the car on the parking lot. When the food was finished you hit the road again. You had switched places, meaning Natasha would finish the drive to the compound. Natasha was still sipping from her milkshake in one hand, her other hand on the wheel. You leaned against the door with you head on your arm. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin as you dozed off.

A bump in the road woke you up.

You shot up straight. When you realized there was no danger, you leaned back into you chair, resting you head against the headrest.

“Slept well, princess?” Nat teasingly said.

“Nat!” You stumped her shoulder with your elbow. She grinned, but kept her eyes on the road. A comfortable silence fell and you closed your eyes again, not intending to sleep again though.

“No, but for real. How have you been sleeping?” You knew what she meant. She wanted to know if you still had nightmares. They would still terrorize your nights sometimes. You would wake up sweating and shaking. Wide awake you would sit in the middle of your bed at midnight, tears running down your cheeks.

“Uhm, okay, I guess. Some nights better than others.” She turned her head to look at you, giving you a sweet smile. She laid her hand on your leg, her palm up. You put your hand in hers, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Now we’re talking about sleeping, a few rooms are under renovations, so the rooms are full. You can sleep in Wanda’s room. She has an extra bed on her room.”

“Is she okay with that?”

“I think so.”

“You didn’t ask her!?”

“No, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

“Nat…”

“Just kidding, I told her she would have to share her room with you.”

“And…?”

“She was fine with it.”

*** With your suitcase in your hand, your bag over your shoulder and music in your ears, you enter Wanda’s room. On the right side of the room there’s a king-sized bed with two chairs and a coffee table on the left side of the bed, next to the window that covers the entire back side of the room, providing a view of the trees and water next to the compound. On the left side of the room there is a large wardrobe, a door to the bathroom and in the corner there’s a single bed, parallel to the window. Above the bed there’s a shelf with a plant, some books and a light string. The room wasn’t very decorated, there weren’t many personal items. One wall was painted in a grey tone with a hint of purple and there was a purple bedspread, covering the lower side of Wanda’s bed. On the nightstand was a photo of Wanda, standing next to a boy with white hair. You figured it must be her brother, Natasha had told you about the twins and the tragedy. Apart from the photo and some plants, there was nothing personal in the room.

You walked to the bed you’d be sleeping in and dropped your bags on the floor. You sat down on the bed and with your feet still on the ground you let your back rest on the bed, closing your eyes as you take the time to take in the feeling of home. To be honest you feel more home at the Avengers compound then at your own appartement. After a few minutes you got up from the bed and put on some upbeat music as you start to make the bed.

Singing along to the music cheerfully, you put the duvet in its cover. With both corners of the blanket in your hands you shake the cover over the duvet. With the music in both your ears you didn’t hear someone come in, so when you feel a hand on your shoulder, you are slightly startled. You quickly stop the music and take out your AirPods. You turn around to lay your eyes on a beautiful woman with coper locks flowing over her shoulders.

“You must be Y/n.”

Wanda knew who you were, your name would regularly come up in a conversation. She didn’t know much about you other than your name. You were kind of a mystery to her. She was new to the team and hadn’t personally met you yet. One thing is clear to her, though. No one bothered to mention how gorgeous you were. With a lump in her throat, she looked into your eyes, once you had turned around to face her. The woman that was standing in front of her seemed like a nice, cheerful person. She had a beautiful smile on her face, but there was something in her eyes that showed her happiness hadn’t always been a given. She took her in, her hair up in a high pony tail with curtain bangs accentuating her face, she was wearing an orange tank top, which showed off her tanned skin, on top of light flared jeans and elegant black ankle boots. Jeez, she was beautiful.

“Guilty as charge.” You responded. “It’s my pleasure meeting you…”

Witty too. You reminded her of her brother.

“Wanda.”

“Ah Wanda! Natasha told me so much about you. Nice to finally meet you. Oh, and Natasha said I could sleep here for the time being. Is that okay with you?”

Natasha talked about her? That was a good thing… right? To be honest Wanda was rather intimidated by Natasha. Even though she had been welcomed with open arms into the group, once, you know, she had switched sides, it had been quite hard for her to adjust to the group.

“Yeah, she told me. It’s fine”

“Cool”

“Do you need help with the bed?”

“Oh no, I’m done.”

She noticed the bed was nicely made and saw your weekend bag, half under your bed.

“You can use that dresser if you want, and if you want to hang any of your clothes, you can put them in my closet.”

“Oh thanks!”

“No problem.”

“I was about to start dinner, the rest should be back in an hour.”

“I’ll make sure I’ll be there on time, I wouldn’t want to miss whatever culinary art you intend to make.” You said teasingly.

“Great, I’ll see you in an hour then

[onceuponastory]

boyfriend - bucky barnes x y/n

"I love everything about you girl, don't you understand? I love you from head to toe girl, but I hate your boyfriend" - boyfriend: lou bega yes mambo no. 5 lou bega

Plot: Bucky is in love with his best friend Y/N. But unfortunately, his best friend has a boyfriend, and Bucky hates his guts. Warnings: Alcohol, some violence (but no abuse) and a small mention of sex. Also a small spoiler for TFATWS finale - just Sam's new job. Notes: So, my first Bucky fic is here! I've loved this song for a long time, and I listened to it again last week, and this fic was born. I recommend you listen to the song, because it's so upbeat and catchy, and I've tried to reflect that in this fic by making it more funny than angsty...but there is some angst ;) Oh also, Lou keeps calling the girl darling in the song, which is definitely a thing Bucky would do I think.

Also this is at least 7k words, probably even more. So sit back, relax and enjoy!

As Bucky Barnes watches his best friend Y/N sing to herself as she moves around her apartment, he smiles. The two of them have been friends for almost two years by this point, and hang out together almost every day. And for almost two years, Bucky Barnes has been head over heels in love with her. He loves everything about her: her smile, how gorgeous she looks, her sunny disposition, the way she’s the only one who can cheer him up after a nightmare...and so on and so forth. Y/N comes and sits beside him on the couch, grinning. “What are you thinking about?” She asks.

“Oh nothing.” He lies. Of course, he knows he can’t tell her that he’s in love with her. Especially since he knows there’s no way she feels the same about him. Before Y/N can reply, there’s a knock at the door, and she springs up to answer it.

“Sean! Hey!” She grins, pecking him on the lips and leading him inside, her arm wrapped around his waist. “Bucky! You remember my boyfriend Sean, right?” She asks.

“Yes, I do. Hey Sean.” He gives him a small wave from his position on the couch, which Sean returns, before being led into the kitchen by Y/N. Once they’re out of sight, Bucky’s smile falls. Sean is the big reason why he can’t tell Y/N that he’s in love with her. He might not know much about love, given he’s over a hundred years old, but he does know that you can’t tell people things like that and destroy their happiness, even if he wishes it was him she was with. Everytime he’s around, or even when she talks about him, a big grin is present on her face. And it tears him apart inside. But despite how happy she is around him, and how he knows that her happiness is all that matters, Bucky can’t stand Sean at all.

It’s not even just because he’s dating the girl he’s been in love with from the moment he met her. Bucky just...gets bad vibes from him, and doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him (which, considering his metal arm, is quite far actually). He can’t explain why he dislikes him so much, he just does. And because of that, he refuses to get to know Sean any more than he has to, despite Y/N’s wishes for them to both get along. He knows it breaks her heart, but he can’t help it. He got through the last eighty or so years of his life trusting only himself, and isn’t about to stop now. But, his distrust of Sean for no reason is still confusing to him, so he decides he has to get to the bottom of it.

So, as soon as he can, Bucky visits another friend of his and Y/N’s.

~*~*~*~*~

“No, I cannot send Red Wing after her boyfriend to spy on him. Are you insane?! I thought all that mindless killing and spy stuff was behind you?” Sam asks.

“Okay first of all, ouch, and secondly, it is. I just hate HIM. I don’t trust him one bit.”

“Well...is he hurting her? Do you think she’s in danger?” Mulling it over, Bucky shakes his head.

“No. I just....think he’s weird and gross. He just...I don’t know! I just don’t like him Sam, is that really a big issue?!”

“It is when you’re trying to send The Avengers after him! And besides, if she’s not being hurt, there’s nothing we can do.” Huffing, Bucky rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you just spend time with him?” Sam asks. “I mean, you don’t like him, but Y/N has clearly got her heart set on this man, so there’s got to be something you’re missing. Maybe that robot brain of yours needs re-working.”

“Well, he did ask if I wanted to hang out, maybe get some coffee together a few weeks ago. And it’d make Y/N happy if we hung out more...” He trails off, and Sam starts nodding.

“See! You’re right! And after all, as long as Y/N’s happy, that’s all that matters...right Bucky?” Bucky is silent for a while, and Sam almost makes another crack at how he can hear the gears turning in his robot brain, but Bucky soon speaks up.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Sam starts grinning. “But I uh...I’ll need some moral support there. Some help...guy to guy, you know.” Sam’s grin immediately disappears.

“Ohhh no. No no no. I am not getting dragged into this. Whatever’s between you and this dude is your business. I want no part of this.”

“Come on Sam! Please?!” Bucky asks. “That way you can see that it’s not just all in my head. I’m not wrong, I promise. You can trust my judgement.”

“Ah yes, because your judgement has been so great before...” Sam mumbles, but Bucky doesn’t respond to that.

“And after all, I think it’s an important part of my therapy, you know, making new friends and all that. I’m sure both the doc and Y/N will be pleased to hear that.” Sam shakes his head.

“I don’t care, I’m still not getting dragged into this.”

~*~*~*~*~

“I hate you.” Sam whispers, glaring at Bucky from across the Starbucks table. Bucky ignores him, and stares out the window, looking for Sean. “I cannot believe you dragged me into this.” Sam continues to complain.

“Shut up Sam.” Bucky orders, continuing to stare out the window.

“Oh, you’re going to be like that? You know Bucky, it’s really rude-“ Bucky suddenly sits up straighter, seeing Sean walking through the door.

“Shut up Sam.”

“Hey! You don’t- ouch!” Sam gasps as Bucky’s foot makes a connection with his ankle in an attempt to shut him up. “Thank god his foot’s not made of vibranium...” Sam hisses.

“Sean! Over here!” Bucky calls, waving him over as Sam rubs his ankle, continuing to glare at Bucky. Sean heads over to the table and sits down, greeting Bucky with a smile and a hello. Then he notices Sam beside him.

“Oh my god, hi! You’re Sam, right? It’s really nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of Captain America.” He gasps, holding out his hand, which Sam shakes, clearly happy with the attention. Bucky suppresses a groan, knowing Sam will not shut up about this, and will think Sean is great, no matter what he says. “Gotta admit, I didn’t expect to have you join us, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, well...I was in the neighbourhood, so.....Bucky invited me to join you both.” Sam lies, giving Bucky a hard stare.

“Well I’m glad you’re here. Both of you. You seem to know her really well, so I’m glad to hang out with you both.” Sean grins, ignoring or failing to notice the tension between Sam and Bucky. “She talks about you both a lot, actually.”

“Oh she does? You know, she talks about you a lot too. It’s nice to finally meet you man.” The pair turn their eyes to Bucky, who still hasn’t said anything, and continues fixing his gaze on Sean.

“Um, hi Bucky. It’s nice to see you again. How have you been?” Sean asks, suddenly looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Good.” Bucky responds, continuing his staring. Sean’s face flushes.

“Does he uh...does he always stare like this?” Sean whispers to Sam, clearly loud enough for Bucky to hear.

“Yup. All the time. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. He does it to me too. It means he likes you.” Sam lies. Sean starts smiling.

“Oh, it does? That’s good then! Right, I’ll get the drinks then. What are you guys having?” He asks, heading up to the counter after both pass on their orders. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Sam rounds on Bucky.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re going to frighten the poor guy to death.” Sam hisses.

“Well, he’s weird right? Something’s off with him. He just doesn't seem genuine.” Bucky fires back. Sam frowns.

“No! He’s been nothing but polite, and you’re staring at him like you’re in Winter Soldier kill mode. Wait, you’re not actually in that...mode are you? You’re not gonna hurt him, right Bucky?”

“Depends how the rest of this goes.” Bucky keeps a close eye on Sean as he waits for the drinks to be made. But so far, Sean seems to be doing nothing wrong or weird, and for a split second, Bucky wonders if he’s the one in the wrong, and that he’s just misguided. That is however, until Sean notices a pretty auburn haired woman is in front of him in line, and Bucky thinks he notices him look down towards her butt. Okay he’s definitely looking at her butt. His gaze lingers for a little while, and Bucky feels the rage building up in him. How could he disrespect Y/N like that? A girl just as beautiful, actually more beautiful than the one in front of him, and yet he disrespects her like this? “See?! He just started staring at her ass!” Bucky hisses, and Sam glances up from his phone, looking over.

“I don’t see anything.” He shrugs, going back to his phone. Bucky huffs.

“Are you serious? You barely looked! And that’s not an okay thing for him to do! I’m going to say something.”

“No. No you aren’t.” Sam orders. “You have no way to tell if that’s even what he did. And even if it was, you are not confronting him in a public Starbucks. Remember what happened last time everyone saw you fighting people?” He asks, and Bucky is immediately reminded of his face all over the news when people thought he killed King T’Chaka, and during the bar fight in Madripoor, when everyone was filming him, ready to post about how dangerous he was all over the internet. Even though he hates to admit it, Sam is right. Making this whole thing public was not a good choice. ...That doesn’t mean he can’t do it in private though. “Listen Bucky, I don’t get why you hate this guy so much, and sure, if he’s really rude or gross, I’d get it. But I’m telling you, I just don’t see it. And in the nicest way, I think you’re just grasping at straws here.” For a second, Bucky considers launching Sam’s phone across the room, and making him look at Sean so he could see what he does, but decides that’s probably not the best thing to do. Stay low and all that. “Now. We’re going to have a nice coffee with Sean, and you’re not going to antagonise him. Right Bucky?” Bucky shakes his head. There was no way in hell he’s going to agree with that. Sam sighs.

“Why are you being like this? Y/N is someone I care about a lot, and I know you care about her too, so why won’t you listen to me and trust me on this?!” Bucky asks, and Sam raises an eyebrow.

“Of course I care about her Buck, but I think you’re going too far with this, and I’m worried it’s going to hurt her in the long run. Trust me on this. This kind of thing never ends well.” Bucky scoffs, and is about to say that he’s not going too far at all, and if Sam just listened and watched, he’d understand where he was coming from. But before he can open his mouth, Sean comes back, carrying a tray with their drinks and some snacks.

“Hey, sorry about your wait. It took longer than expected. I know you guys didn’t ask for them, but I got some cakes too. Y/N told me that you guys love them, so I thought I’d get them too.” He laughs awkwardly, still clearly intimidated by Bucky.

“You did? Well thank you Sean. Isn’t that nice Bucky?” Sam asks, giving Bucky a look.

“Thanks.” Bucky hisses, glaring down at the cake pop on the tray. Sean starts smiling. He’s right, he does like them...just when Y/N buys them for him though. And even though Sam was right about not confronting him in public, that doesn’t mean Bucky has to eat the cake. “I’m not hungry though.” Sean’s face falls, and Sam sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, well...you can eat it later, right?” Sean asks.

“Mhm.” Bucky gives a tiny nod, making Sean look even more scared. Noticing this look and trying desperately to avoid the impending catastrophe, Sam starts up a conversation with Sean, whilst Bucky drinks his coffee and pipes up every so often with a grunt or a nod.

After a while, mostly filled with conversations between Sam and Sean and complete silence from Bucky, Sam gets up to go to the toilet. As he leaves, Sam gives Bucky a look, clearly pleading with him not to launch Sean through the window while he’s away. Bucky rolls his eyes and gestures for Sam to just go, which he does..whilst keeping his eyes on them the entire way there.

“So...” Sean trails off, laughing awkwardly.

”Let me get one thing clear.” Bucky says, and Sean audibly gulps, clearly startled. Bucky leans forward, and Sean immediately looks like he’s about to shit himself in fear. “Y/N means a lot to me. And if you do ANYTHING to hurt her, you will have me to deal with. You understand?” He hisses. Sean nods, still looking startled. “Say it.”

“Y-Yes Bucky...” He stammers out.

“Good. And let me tell you. Don’t think you can just...stare at other girls without repercussions. It wont end well, trust me.”

“But I didn’t...” He begins, and Bucky gives him another glare. He can see the guilt written all over his face. “Anyway. As long as you remember that, that’s all that matters.” He leans back into his seat, and takes another sip of his coffee. The pair sit in silence until Sam returns.

“Hey guys, I didn’t miss much did I? You’re both okay, right?”

“Yup.” Bucky and Sean say at the same time. Sam looks surprised by this, but smiles, clearly happy that Sean hasn’t been launched through the Starbucks window, even though that’s still what Bucky wanted to do.

~*~*~*~*~

After the trio are finished in Starbucks, they stand outside to say their goodbyes. Well. Two of them do at least. “Well, bye guys, it was uh...nice to see you both.” Sean forces a smile, clearly trying to not anger Bucky even more.

“Yeah it was fun! Hopefully we can do this again.” Sam grins, clearly not noticing the awkwardness between them both, or ignoring it. Sean grimaces, and walks away from the pair. Sam waves him off.

“I don’t get why you like him so much.” Bucky sighs, starting to walk back towards his apartment, closely accompanied by Sam, who’s still grinning.

“At first I didn’t understand why you don’t like him, but I think I do now. I realised it when I was in the bathroom.”

“Well, that is where you do most of your thinking.” Bucky counters, rolling his eyes. He already told him why he didn’t like Sean. In his eyes, there wasn’t much else to think about. Sam ignores the dig, and continues:

“It’s because you have a crush on Y/N, isn’t it?” Bucky stops in his tracks, turning towards Sam.

“Uh no, I don’t. Who says I do?!” Bucky lies. Sam’s grin grows even wider.

“Oh yes you DO Bucky. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before. It’s SO obvious!” Even though he tries desperately to stop it, Bucky feels his cheeks flush. Sam picks up on this immediately. “Ha! I knew it! You like her. I mean, I should’ve noticed sooner, with the way you look at her, and the way you speak about her.”

“Sam, can you shut up?” Bucky hisses. “Please.” Sam’s face softens. “Yes..I like her. I think she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and I’m so glad to be her friend. But that is NOT why I hate Sean. I don’t care who Y/N is with, as long as she’s happy and they treat her well, and I'm worried he isn't going to.” Bucky feels his heart sink as he says that he doesn’t care who she’s with. Of course, he wants it to be him more than anything...but life doesn’t always work out like that. After all, it had treated him so shittily in the past, there’s no way it would also give him the girl of his dreams. Bucky had learned a long time ago that his dreams weren’t meant to come true. But despite that, if he was destined to just be Y/N’s friend, that was okay with him.

“I’m sorry Bucky.” Sam says, sounding genuine. He reaches over and gives Bucky a pat on the back. “For what it’s worth, despite me not seeing Sean the way you do, your support and love for Y/N is really admirable, and shows how good a guy you are. I hope you find love and happiness with someone, even if it’s not with Y/N.”

“Thanks Sam.” Bucky gives a soft smile. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but it was still nice to hear. The pair resume walking towards Bucky’s apartment.

“I will say though, you gotta work on your anger issues.”

“I don’t have anger issues.”

“...Yeah you do. I saw the way you looked at him. Anyway, I know the best way to do that...video games at your place.”

“Why is it always my place?”

“It’s nice, and you have better games than I do. I have Y/N to thank for that.” Sam walks on ahead, and Bucky rolls his eyes. Even though Sam sometimes gets on his nerves, he’s still incredibly glad to have him as a friend. Even when he eats all the food in his fridge.

~*~*~*~*~

The duo soon arrive at Bucky’s apartment, and are midway through a game of Mario Kart when they’re interrupted by the sound of banging on Bucky’s door. Pausing the game, Sam and Bucky exchange a cautious look as they slowly move towards the door, not wanting to be surprised by something that could be The Avengers’ newest threat. That is however, until a voice sounds through the door:

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!” Y/N calls. “I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”

“Ooh, full name. You’re fucked.” Sam says, clearly trying not to laugh. Bucky glares at him, before steeling himself and opening the door. Y/N stands there, her arms folded and a glare on her face. “Oh she looks like you when she glares.” Sam whispers loud enough for just Bucky to hear.

“Um...hey Y/N.” Bucky gives her a small wave.

“Don’t ‘hey Y/N’ me asshole. I need to talk to you.” She orders, walking into the apartment. “Oh, hi Sam. Can I speak to Bucky please? Alone?” She asks, almost hissing the words.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Sam responds, holding his hands up in surrender and leaving the room, taking a bowl of M&Ms with him. As soon as the door clicks shut behind Sam, Y/N unleashes her anger on Bucky.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” She asks. For a second, Bucky almost responds with ‘many, many things’ but he realises that might be the wrong thing to say. Y/N does not look like she can handle jokes right now. “Sean told me about your coffee date. I know you’re not the best person with socialising but GOD Bucky, are you even trying to be civil to him?”

“Doll, listen...” Bucky begins, but she cuts him off.

“Nope. Nuh uh. You do not get to call me that right now. And I’m not even finished speaking.” Bucky takes the hint and shuts up. “Everytime he speaks, or even breathes, you look like you want to wring his neck!”

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! I’ve seen it! And not even that, you THREATENED HIM!”

“Hey, I’m just being protective of you!” Bucky defends, trying not to feel bad. This is their first fight...ever, and he hates it. Especially because he’s trying to protect Y/N, and she just won’t listen.

“That’s not being protective! That’s being weird and creepy!”

“Exactly what I said!” Sam calls from the other room.

“Thanks Sam.” Bucky and Y/N say in unison. They both look at each other, the argument the last thing on their minds. “...Jinx.” Bucky whispers, smiling. For a second, a smile creeps its way onto Y/N’s face, and Bucky feels hopeful that they can have a civil conversation. But then, Y/N clearly remembers where she is, and the smile falls.

“Bucky...please don’t do that. Please don’t.” She pleads. She looks sad to be fighting with him, and Bucky feels a pang in his chest. Both about their fight, and about what he needs to tell her.

“I’m sorry d-Y/N.” He quickly clarifies. He takes a seat on his couch, beckoning for her to join him, which she does. He takes her hands in his, gently running his thumb over her knuckles with his non metal hand. “It may seem like I’ve been too hard on Sean, but trust me, I do have my reasons.” Y/N frowns, and Bucky continues. “When we were out...I saw him staring at another girl. He definitely stared at her butt. And because I care about you, I wanted him to know that wasn’t acceptable, and if he hurts you, he’ll have to answer to me.” Y/N is silent for a few seconds, frowning as she takes it all in. Bucky waits patiently, waiting to support her when she needs it. Finally, she speaks.

“Oh my god...” She begins. But just as Bucky is about to comfort her, she finishes her sentence. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She scoffs. Bucky starts frowning, and before he can speak, Y/N stands up, pulling her hands out of his grasp. “I can’t believe you Bucky. First you threaten my boyfriend, and now you stoop so low to make up lies about him! I know you don't like him, but even so, that's no excuse.”

“B-But I didn’t! I saw it!” Bucky stammers, quickly getting up.

“Oh you did, did you? Did you also see a unicorn? Did you see a flying pig? Come on Bucky, just tell me the truth. You didn’t see those things because they don’t exist. I know he wouldn’t do that to me.”

“...And you don’t trust me?” He asks.

“I thought I did, but I don’t know if I can anymore.” She replies. Bucky swears he feels his heart shatter in that moment. A mixture of anger and pain begin to build in his stomach, and he feels tears welling up in his eyes. “I know. Why don’t we ask Sam what he saw?” She asks, walking towards the room. Bucky gasps, trying to reach out and stop her.

“No...no you don’t have to.” Scoffing, she turns around.

“Why? Because he didn’t see it?” She asks. Instead of letting him answer, she opens the door to a startled Sam, still clutching the bowl. “Sam. Did you see what Bucky said he saw? Did Sean cheat on me with a girl in Starbucks?”

“Well, I personally didn’t see it, but-“

“And that’s all I need.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to Bucky, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Just...I don’t know what I can say to you.” She sniffles. “I thought you were my friend.”

“Doll, I am, I swear-“

“I SAID DON’T CALL ME THAT!” She snaps, tears spilling from her eyes. “I...I need to go. Sean’s waiting on me. Just. Leave us alone please. I can’t be friends with you if you can’t respect me and my relationship. If you want to apologise, you know where to find me.” She starts walking towards the front door.

“Wait.” Bucky gasps, and Y/N stops in her tracks. “Please believe me Y/N. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.” She stays silent. “Please Y/N.” Bucky repeats, moving closer towards her. When he sees he’s getting no response, he feels the anger rising. “I’m not apologising for being right!” He says louder than he expected to. Y/N sniffles again, and Bucky immediately regrets his tone.

“Well....I guess this is goodbye then.” Y/N says, and Bucky can hear her start to cry. ”Goodbye Bucky. Bye Sam.” Without another word, she opens the door of Bucky’s apartment and leaves, closing the door behind her.

Bucky stands there for what feels like an eternity, just staring at the door. Part of him knows he should run after her, but it feels like his feet are rooted to the ground. So instead, he stands there, waiting for the slim chance of her coming back. At this point, he doesn’t even care who’s right or wrong...he just wants to apologise to her and have her back in his life. As time goes on, he slowly starts to accept she’s not coming back. When he said he felt his heart shatter before, this feels like the tiny shards were stabbing him, and piercing every part of him. And despite everything Bucky has been through, the fights, the torture, the nightmares...this pain hurts more than anything he’s ever experienced in his life.

“Bucky...” He registers Sam’s voice from beside him, but can’t even say anything back to him. “Are you....are you alright?” Sam asks. Bucky can tell from his voice that he knows he’s asking a dumb question. How the hell could anyone be okay after an argument like that? But he knows that Sam’s a therapist, and that’s what they do. His own doc would do the same. But the question still made him realise that he is definitely not okay. A tear falls from his eyes and rolls down his cheek, and Bucky says the only thing he’s able to say.

“I’ve lost her forever Sam.”

~*~*~*~*~

In the weeks after his argument with Y/N, Bucky has become even more reclusive than he is usually. He barely leaves his apartment, only venturing outside to go to his appointments or to get food. Aside from seeing his doctor and occasionally replying to Sam’s texts, he has no other social interactions. Y/N was his everything: his best friend...actually, his only friend, and one of the only girls he’s ever loved. And now, she was gone. And it was like Bucky’s happiness and joy for life left with her. After all, she was usually the reason why he was happy. Well...the only reason.

But he doesn’t judge her for being upset at him. Bucky has started to blame himself for what happened. Maybe he had seen things that didn’t exist, or taken things the wrong way. All he wants to do is go over to Y/N’s apartment, apologise to her and get her back. He doesn’t even care about being with her, he just wants to be her friend again. Unfortunately, Bucky is far too scared to do it. The last time they saw each other was filled with so much pain and tears, he didn’t want to put them both through that again. That and he was terrified it wouldn’t work out, and that he’d never see her again. So instead, he did nothing. He felt horrible about it, but he knew it was the best option, and nobody else would get hurt.

However, one day, Bucky has decided he’s fed up with being stuck in his apartment, and chooses to go for a walk. Once he is outside, he walks towards the park. As he walks, he takes a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and the sun on his skin. He just wishes Y/N was here with him. Memories flash through his mind of spending time with her, having picnics together, buying ice creams for each other, giving her piggy back rides, running for shelter in the rain, playing catch and almost hitting people in the face because he forgot about the true strength of his arm. The memories are full of laughter, and Bucky almost starts laughing as he remembers them. But then he remembers that they’re not friends anymore, and his smile fades. He continues walking, trying his best to ignore the guilt.

As he looks around, he looks up and sees a familiar face from across the park, stopping him in his tracks. Is that...Sean? It definitely looks like him. Bucky realises he’s finally been granted a second chance. All he has to do is go over there, apologise and then everything would be better again. But as he’s making his way over to him, Bucky realises he’s not alone. Sean is accompanied by a woman. A woman who definitely isn’t Y/N. Although the can feel anger rising within him, Bucky takes a deep breath. Maybe he got it wrong again, and this isn’t Sean, or the woman he’s with is a distant relative? Or a friend? ...And then Sean pulls her close, and kisses her on the lips. Okaaaay....maybe Sean somehow has an identical twin who just so happens to live in the same town as them, and who neither he nor Y/N have mentioned before? Bucky suddenly realises the pair are heading towards him, and he’ll have to hide, or risk being discovered.

Thankfully, even though Bucky is still trying to forget the time he spent as the Winter Soldier, he hasn’t forgotten the stealth that came with it. So, he manages to find a hiding spot. Unfortunately, the park isn’t the best and most stealthiest place to hide, especially not for a man with a metal arm. So, Bucky has to resort to turning away and using his jacket’s collar as a form of protection. Thankfully, neither notice him, and walk past him. As they do, he hears a part of their conversation:

“Sean! You’re so bad!” She laughs.

“Can you blame me? You’re just so gorgeous baby.” Bucky feels his fists clenching as the reality begins to sink in. He was right. Sean is cheating on Y/N. He’s cheating on his best friend and the girl he’s been in love with since they first met. Bucky almost runs after Sean and confronts him. But before he does, his mind pictures Y/N, sifting alone in her apartment, completely unaware of the truth. And he realises what he has to do. So he starts to run towards her apartment.

On the way there, all Bucky can think about is the heartbreak that will be on her face when he tells her the truth. It’s going to break both of their hearts, but he has to do it. Soon, he reaches her building, and heads up to her apartment. As he knocks, he hopes to every god that she’s not in, so he doesn’t have to break the bad news to her. But despite all his hopes, the door opens, and Y/N peeks out. A smile grows onto her face when she sees Bucky, which causes another pang at his heart. How can he do this to her?

“Bucky...hi.” She smiles. “I was wondering if you’d come round. I need to talk to you. I-“

“Y/N listen.” Bucky cuts her off. She looks at him, her eyes curious. Sighing, he continues. “I have to tell you something. I was just at the park, and I saw Sean with another girl.” Y/N scoffs, and almost cuts in, but Bucky continues. “Please, hear me out. I know you probably don’t believe me, but I did see it, I promise. And the way they spoke about each other....I’m so sorry.”

“Seriously Bucky? You’re doing this again?” She sighs. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you. I trust Sean. I know you don’t trust him, but I know him better than you do. He wouldn’t do this. You don’t need to lie about him.” Bucky feels himself deflate slightly at that. Why won’t she believe him? Okay, maybe the first time, it was unbelievable, but now?

“...That’s not it at all! I’m just trying to protect you!” Bucky says. Y/N looks at him, a sympathetic look in her eyes.

“Well, I appreciate it, but I really don’t need you to. Sean and I were talking and-“ Bucky groans. That’s just what he needed. “And maybe...I don’t know, you’re jealous? Or you’re upset that I’m not spending as much time with you? If you are that’s okay, I’d understand. You don’t have to make up these lies. Both Sean and I are willing to sit and chat with you about this if you want, or I can come with you to your next therapy appointment if that’s easier.”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head. “I’m not lying. Please...why won’t you believe me?”

“Because I love him, and he loves me. When I'm with him, I'm happy, and so is he. Why would he do anything to jeopardise that?” Bucky feels his heart break again. Especially because he knows Sean doesn’t love her as much as he says he does. “Look, why don’t you come in for some tea, or a beer?” She offers, standing aside for him. Close to tears again, Bucky shakes his head.

“I’m sorry Y/N. But I can’t. If you don’t want to hear the truth because you’re so in love, I..I guess I understand. But I can’t stay here and watch you both together, knowing the kind of person he is.” He reaches out and gently takes her hands in his. “If you need me, you know where to find me. If not...well, I guess this is goodbye.” He whispers. He can see her face fall, and he turns and walks away. Bucky manages to maintain a straight face until he reaches the elevator, and then...he lets the tears fall.

 ~*~*~*~*~ 

In the days after Bucky said goodbye to Y/N, he feels even worse than he did the first time. This time feels more final. Now he doesn’t venture out of his apartment at all. Sam has been trying his best to talk to him, and get him outside, but Bucky has been ignoring him. He knows he shouldn’t be ignoring his friend, especially after losing one already...but by this point, Bucky has decided that he might as well lose all his friends at this point. He just doesn’t care anymore.

One day, almost two weeks since Bucky said goodbye to Y/N, he gets up around the middle of the afternoon, ready to spend this day like any other. But he’s soon stopped by a knock on his door. “Go away Sam!” He calls. But the knocking continues. “I’m not answering the door!” But still, the knocking doesn't stop. Bucky huffs, and stomps towards the door, flinging it open. “Sam! I told you to leave me alo-....Oh.” There, stands Y/N, tears streaming down her face. Seeing her there, Bucky is silent for a while. Part of him is convinced he’s still dreaming, and almost pinches himself to check he isn’t. But before he can do that, Y/N speaks, her voice shaky. 

“I owe you an apology.” Bucky stands aside, letting her in, which she gladly accepts. She sits on his couch, bringing her knees up to her face as Bucky closes the door. 

 “Do you uh..do you want something to drink? Or eat?” He offers. Y/N shakes her head, and Bucky sits down beside her. “What happened?” He asks, although he already has a feeling what it is. 

 “Well...you were right. He cheated on me. I uh...I came home from work early, and went over to his place to surprise him. I let myself in and...he was fucking some girl on the couch. Guess I got the surprise.” She sniffles again, before bursting into tears.

“Oh doll...” Bucky soothes. “Come here.” He opens his non metal arm, and she scoots over to him. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her into his chest, and holds her as she cries. Anger grows within him as she cries her eyes out. He’s going to kill him. 

 “I’m...I’m sorry Bucky. I just feel...so stupid! How could I have not believed you! You were just trying to tell me the truth...and I didn’t listen! I said you were a liar!” She wails, and Bucky rubs her back. 

 “No, no. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise.”

“B-B-But I was so horrible to you, a-and condescending. I’m the worst friend ever!” She sniffles. Bucky knows his shirt is definitely drenched with tears by now, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is making sure Y/N is happy. 

 “Y/N. It’s okay. Honestly. You were in love, and that’s totally understandable. I wouldn’t have believed me either.” She looks as if she doesn’t fully believe what he’s saying, but doesn’t say anything regardless. Instead, they both sit together, and Bucky gently rubs her back and down her arms, letting her cry out all her tears. “Tell you what. How about you stay over here tonight? I think there’s still some of your things here from when you last stayed over. I have a shirt I can give you if there isn’t. We can order some takeout, whatever you want, and we can play some video games...watch a movie, even one of those Disney ones you like so much.” Y/N smiles at that, and Bucky smiles with her. "There’s that smile I love so much. And tomorrow, I’ll go with you to his place, and we can grab your stuff. I can also kick his ass, or just stand around looking intimidating, whatever works.” Y/N lets out a loud laugh at that, making Bucky’s smile grow even wider. Hearing her laugh again is great. 

 “You are great at that, I have to admit.” She nods. Bucky winks. “Thanks Bucky. You’re the best. I don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life.” Bucky’s heart soars at that. It’s been a long time since someone told him that. 

 “You know doll, I ask myself the same question about you too.” He responds, making her smile. Before either can say anything though, there’s another knock at he door. Both look at each other, confused. “Sam? Is that you?” Bucky calls. They get their answer a few seconds later.  

“Y/N? Are you in there? Let me in please!” Sean’s voice calls. 

“Oh god, what is he doing here?” Y/N groans. Getting progressively angrier and protective, Bucky gets up off the couch, heading towards the door. Y/N gets up too, and Bucky gently moves her behind him for protection. Bucky opens the door, and Sean looks up, spotting Y/N behind Bucky. 

“Oh of course. She ran to the cyborg.” He scoffs. Bucky can smell some alcohol on his breath. His body tenses. 

“Sean, what the fuck?! Don’t speak to him like that! Especially not when you’re the one who I just caught cheating on me.” Y/N orders, but she’s ignored. Sean looks at Bucky’s angry face, and laughs. 

“I should’ve known. I can’t believe you’re getting mad at me for cheating once. Look at the two of you! Maybe I should’ve kept my eyes on you both. Who’s to say you didn’t cheat on me with him, huh?” Bucky’s fists clench, and Sean picks up on this immediately. “Oh, look. What are you going to do to me, Winter Soldier? Are you going to kill me?” Bucky thinks it over for a moment, then laughs. Sean looks confused. 

“I was thinking about it, but actually no, I won’t. I think I’ll let her handle it.” He smirks, standing aside to let Y/N step forward. She does...and immediately kicks Sean right in his balls, causing him to double over and groan in pain. 

“You’re a fucking asshole. Bucky was right about you, and I should’ve listened to him instead of your dumb ass. Because of you, I almost lost one of the best things I've ever had in my life. And you only cheated on me once? Really? Somehow, I doubt that.” She hisses. “Tomorrow, I’m going to come and pick up my stuff, and you can come and get yours from mine. Whether it’ll all be intact or in the garbage, I don’t know. After that, you’re going to stay away from Bucky and I. Do you understand?” When he doesn’t reply fast enough, she kicks him in the leg, causing another groan. “Do you understand?!” She repeats, her voice angrier. 

 “Yes! Yes! I got it!” He says quickly. Y/N stands up straight again. 

“Good. Now go back to whoever you were fucking on the couch, and leave us the fuck alone.” She orders, walking back into the apartment and slamming the door. 

“Hey! That was great!” Bucky grins. “You sure showed him better than I ever could.” 

“You really think so?” She asks, still slightly hyped on adrenaline. Bucky holds his arms out, pulling her into a tight hug. 

“Yes! Of course I do!” He encourages, squeezing her even tighter. They stay like that for a while, until the pair suddenly realise just how close they are to each other. They awkwardly spring apart, and both blush. Even though Bucky likes being so close to her, and wishes it could be like that all the time...he also knows how weird it is to do that to his best friend, especially when she just found her boyfriend cheating on her. “Um...wanna order a pizza?” He asks, and Y/N nods.

~*~*~*~*~ 

Later that night, Bucky and Y/N lay side by side on Bucky’s couch, a large cheese pizza between their legs, and an half finished bottle of rosé on the floor beside the couch...mostly for Y/N. The opening song to Beauty and the Beast plays on the television in front of them. “Here’s where she meets Prince Charming, but she won’t discover that it’s him til chapter three....” Y/N sings to herself, and she looks over at Bucky as she does. A small smile plays on her lips, and she starts to giggle. Bucky raises an eyebrow, asking if everything is okay. “It’s uh...it’s dumb. Well, not dumb. I was being dumb.” Y/N speaks quickly, before giggling even more. Bucky looks confused, and she continues. “I probably shouldn’t say this until I’m sober, but I’ve had a rough day and I have to let this out. It’s been eating me up inside for the past few days, and this afternoon.” 

Bucky pauses the movie, and turns to her. “Well that line kind of fits us! I mean....uh. I wasn’t being entirely honest with you at first. When Sean came over, and he said he should have kept his eyes on us, uh...” She takes a breath in an attempt to compose herself. “A few days ago, we had an argument about you...well, me and you.” She clarifies. “He was convinced that I liked you more than I liked him, and when I was on my way over here, I had a think about it, and....I think he’s maybe right.” Bucky almost feels his heart stop at that moment. She...likes him? Does she mean..in that way? Y/N continues. “I asked myself why I kept listening to him instead of you, and I realised...I wasn’t ever in love with him that much. But you...god Bucky, I’ve been in love with you since I met you. I just didn’t think you liked me in that way, so when a guy showed up who said he liked me, I kind of jumped at that and didn’t want to lose it, even when it’s obvious he didn’t love me. I was just so desperate to be loved, I blocked everything else out. And look where it got me.” She scoffs, finishes her glass of wine, and places it down. “I’m sorry Bucky. For everything.” 

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you.” Bucky replies, still in shock she might like him back. 

“I know, I know, but I do. And for what it’s worth, it’s okay if you don’t like me in that way. I just had to let it out. I’d understand if you don’t.” Without even responding, Bucky leans forward, and gently presses a kiss to her lips. 

 “Well...I do. I have for a long time.” He whispers. Y/N’s eyes go wide, and her cheeks flush.

“Oh...” She trails off. “Well, would you uh...would you like to go out with me sometime? On a date?” She asks. Bucky chuckles softly. 

“I would love to. But first, can I ask you to do something for me?” Y/N nods. “Can you kiss me again?” He asks. Smiling, both lean forward, pressing a kiss to each other’s lips. Even though both have no idea where their relationship will go from here, they’re ready to face it together.

And this time, Bucky doesn’t hate her new boyfriend. At least...not too much.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

The Waiting Game

Warnings: tickling, fluff

Word count: 3200

I'm not as happy with how this one came out as the last two, but if I keep thinking about it I'll never post it so... hope it's alright!

* * *

You knew you shouldn’t tell anyone. You knew there would be consequences. But it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You had been taking care of your friend’s pet hamster while they were away for the weekend. For the most part, you’d kept it in your room in its cage to avoid bothering the others with all the noise it made overnight, running on its squeaky wheel at all hours. When everyone else had left the compound for the day, you decided the poor animal could use some real exercise. You had placed the critter in his little hamster ball and brought him to the common area so he could roll around freely.

Except, the little door that closed the ball wasn’t latched all the way. Oops.

Before you knew it, you were crawling around on your hands and knees trying to locate your friend’s pet. You left little snacks out around the room in hopes it would get curious and come out of hiding to munch on something. You were so focused on the task at hand you hadn’t noticed Loki had entered the room, until you heard his voice behind you.

“What in the norns are you doing?” he inquired. You turned to look at him, just as you saw a little fuzzy creature tear across the room and right in front of the dark-haired god. He let out a somewhat undignified yelp as he jumped back. Luckily, the hamster stopped at one of the treats you’d left for him, giving you ample opportunity to scoop him up in your hands. “W-what is that?”

“This is my friend’s hamster!” you explained, giggling at his reaction. “The better question is – what was that noise you made? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this little thing?”

“Of course not! It merely startled me, is all,” he quickly insisted. You held the hamster out toward him, and Loki took a nearly imperceptible step backward.

“Mmhmm, ok. Not scared. Got it.” Grinning, you moved your hand back and petted the hamster gently on the head. “What would the others think if they knew you a tiny little rodent made you freak out?”

Loki narrowed his eyes at you. “Never speak of this,” he demanded, pointing a finger firmly at you to emphasize. He quickly left the room after that, likely to regain his composure.

But you couldn’t just not tell anyone about this gold nugget of information you’d just learned. So, naturally, you told his brother. And Thor, not one for keeping secrets, told everyone else. Needless to say, there was quite a bit of teasing over the next couple of days. You steered clear of the god, knowing he would not take kindly to your having informed the rest of the team about the little incident.

You couldn’t avoid him forever, though. A couple days later, after having returned the pet to your friend, you were making breakfast for yourself in the kitchen when Loki’s voice echoed from the doorway.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated, his tone ominous. You turned from the stove to meet his eye, smiling sweetly to mask your nervousness at being confronted by the trickster.

“No, of course not! We just haven’t crossed paths,” you fibbed. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes – I suppose yesterday in the hallway you just realized you forgot something SO important you had to literally sprint in the opposite direction as you saw me approach?”

“Oh… alright, fine. Yes, I’ve been avoiding you. Wouldn’t you do the same?” Loki stepped into the kitchen, taking a few gradual steps toward you.

“You must know there are consequences when you cross me,” he warned. “You humiliated me, and so I think it only fair I do the same to you.”

“Well good luck with that, I’m an open book. There’s no secrets you can use against me,” you quipped.

“You see, I thought that may be the case, so I started querying the other Avengers,” he explained, now standing only a few feet away from you. Instinctively, you put down your half-cooked breakfast and took a step away from the advancing Asgardian. “Most of them had fairly useless information – scared of spiders, fairly standard human weakness… sleeps with a stuffed bear, which everyone already seemed to know about…”

“Please. That’s not embarrassing,” you huffed.

“…and then I spoke to the spider child. He provided me with some very interesting information about you.” Loki smirked, causing you to laugh nervously.

“Oh, do tell,” you urged, folding your arms across your chest, and trying to play it off as a laugh of disbelief. Loki had now backed you into the corner of the kitchen, which you hadn’t realized until your back met the cold plaster of the wall.

“He informed me that the only time he’s ever seen you truly flustered and embarrassed was during one of your sparring matches, when he accidentally learned about your little secret.” Realization dawned on you, and you tensed up immediately. “He described how you’d begged him not to tell anyone, and he hadn’t up until this point. Apparently he finds me threatening, so it wasn’t difficult to convince him to start talking.”

“I-I don’t know what he could possibly be talking about,” you muttered.

“I think you do,” Loki argued. He pounced at you, lunging with his hands aimed at your sides, causing you to squeak and curl into yourself. His hands stopped inches away from you, close enough that your skin tingled from sheer proximity to his fingertips. “You’re ticklish. Severely, based on that reaction.”

“Pshh, no I’m not! That’s… that’s ridiculous,” you denied, your lie exposed by your nervous giggles and blushing face.

“Mmhmm, I’m sure.” His hands darted toward your belly, again stopping right before he made contact. You yelped and whipped your arms down across your torso to protect yourself. Loki’s smirk only grew wider.

“Ok, fine. You’re right. Just… get it over with!” you begged.

“Oh no. Where would be the fun in that?” he chuckled, stepping back and allowing you space to move away from the wall. “I’ve got to build some anticipation. Catch you when you least expect it.”

“That’s just mean!” you groaned. Loki laughed again, turning around to leave the kitchen. Just before he left, he called over his shoulder.

“You’d better watch your back.”

* * *

Loki’s little game went on for days.

You were on edge at any given moment. Peeking around corners before entering rooms, listening through doors before opening them, trying to ensure your safety before making a move. You half expected him to jump out of nowhere and attack you with tickles on your way down the hallway, but it never happened. Still, you made your travel between rooms as brief as possible.

You wouldn’t say you were dreading the moment he finally did decide to pounce. In fact, in a way the idea made your heart flutter with excitement. What made you most nervous was the thought of the team figuring out you actually enjoyed being tickled, especially Loki. You were certain that that would be the embarrassing part. That, and the fact that you were already flustered by being around Loki long before he figured out this bit of information about you.

You couldn’t always avoid him. There were times that you had to be in the same room for prolonged periods, like during meetings. Loki always seemed to have things set up before you arrived so that the only seat remaining in the room was next to him. You considered sitting on the floor, once, but Steve gave you a scorning look which made you shrink down into the chair beside Loki, albeit begrudgingly. During these meetings, Loki always made sure to keep you on your toes; leaning towards you abruptly and placing his hand on the back of your chair, making you jump, only to whisper something about the meeting presentation, or some ridiculous observation about his brother.

It wasn’t just during work-related gatherings, either. One night, you joined a few of your teammates in the common room to watch a TV show together. Wanda stood up from the couch beside you to go grab a snack from the kitchen, and out of nowhere Loki swooped in and sat down in the spot she previously occupied.

“Good evening,” he greeted you, smirking as you shuffled further toward the edge of the couch to increase the distance between the two of you.

“Loki,” you grunted stiffly in reply.

“Now, y/n, that’s no way to greet your fellow team member,” he scolded tauntingly, clapping a hand on your shoulder, and causing you to flinch away reflexively. He leaned back against the couch, casually propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of you – a stark contrast from your position, huddled in the corner of the couch hugging your knees to your chest in an effort to make yourself as small as possible. “Pray tell, what are we watching?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you huffed. Maybe this whole situation was making you feel a little bratty toward the Asgardian, but in all honesty he really did deserve it.

Suddenly he lunged toward you, causing you to squeak and jolt away from his fingertips. He never touched you, though, closing his fingers around the TV remote sitting on the couch beside you with a smug grin on his face.

“My, my, aren’t we jittery this evening?” he teased, settling back into his seat as he pointed the remote toward the TV to check the guide and find out the show title you had refused to provide.

“Everything alright over there, antsy-pants?” Tony asked, having witnessed the whole interaction.

“Yup! Just peachy,” you replied quickly, shooting Loki a quick glare.

“Peachy? Uh… alright then…” Tony scrutinized you for a moment before turning his attention back to the TV screen.

Needless to say, you didn’t really remember any of the rest of the show from that evening.

Then, as if these group gatherings weren’t enough, there was also your regularly scheduled training sessions. One morning, when Nat had you practicing throwing punches at the punching bag, you sensed Loki lurking around behind you. You turned your head just enough to catch him in your peripheral vision standing a few feet away, observing you silently.

“Better watch yourself – I might just throw one of these punches in your direction,” you threatened, keeping your eye on him as you continued to practice.

“Such hostility,” he teased. “Surely this much stress can’t be good for a mortal such as yourself.” He quickly advanced toward you, causing you to spin around and throw your hands up in front of you in defense. A deep, throaty laugh escaped his lips at your reaction. “You’ve only proven my point. You must learn not to be so tense.” He grabbed hold of your shoulder and turned you around, kneading both shoulders with his strong hands. Under normal circumstances, you’d have melted under his touch, but you were unwilling to let your guard down even for a moment. You grabbed his wrists and turned back to face him, pointing an accusing finger in his face.

“I’m not just going to let you slip past my defenses that easily,” you warned, stepping backward toward the door to leave while he smirked at you in amusement.

“Oh, don’t worry - I’m certain of that.”

* * *

After a week of this charade, you were really getting anxious. You were starting to flinch at every little sound, every rapid movement anyone made in your direction. Even when it wasn’t Loki you were interacting with, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The anticipation was literally driving you insane.

You entered the training room that morning ready to release some of your stress in your sparring session. Unfortunately, Steve had started noticing over the last few days that you and Loki were in the middle of some sort of conflict, and so he assigned the two of you as sparring partners, telling you to either fight it out or get over whatever it was. Reluctantly, you stepped out onto the sparring mat and faced your opponent, already starting to feel nervous butterflies in your stomach. Loki shot you his characteristic mischievous smirk, ducking into his fighting stance.

“I’ll do my best to make this a fair fight,” he goaded. You mimicked his stance, narrowing your eyes at him across the mat.

“Just get on with it, Loki,” you ordered. You didn’t wait around for him to make the first move, throwing a quick one-two punch which he dodged easily. He countered with a jab toward your ribs, stopping just before he made contact, but it was enough to make you flinch. You aimed a low-sweeping kick at his ankles but missed again as he hopped over your leg. Frustrated, you threw another sloppy punch toward his shoulder, but he grabbed hold of your wrist and yanked you toward him, spinning you around easily and pinning your arm behind your back, his other hand gripping your waist.

“Do you yield?” he asked, his voice low in your ear. You spun back around and yanked your wrist free in one fluid motion, driving him backward by slamming your forearm into his chest.

“Not just yet,” you grunted, grinning as he stumbled from the unexpected force. Loki quickly regained his balance, wasting no time in lunging at you again. This time, he aimed his hand toward your side, causing you to yelp and twist awkwardly to avoid his touch.

“Did Natasha teach you that move? Your form is getting sloppy.”

“You know exactly what made me move like that,” you muttered, jumping back on the offensive and landing a couple of blows to his shoulder. He retaliated with a jab straight at your stomach, stopping his own momentum early enough that he merely tapped his fist against your belly. You doubled over, wrapping both arms around your torso protectively.

“It seems your fighting skills require quite a bit of work.”

“Damnit, Loki!” you shouted, unable to take it anymore. “If you’re going to do it, just do it!”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean. You’ve been finding every excuse to lean toward me or make a sudden move in my direction to make me think you’re going to do it. I can’t stand it anymore!” You didn’t quite realize how loudly you were shouting at this point, causing heads to turn in your direction without your noticing. “I know this was all part of your grand plan, to drive me insane with anticipation. You win! I give! Just… get it over with already, please!”

In one swift motion, Loki tackled you flat on your back onto the mat, arms pinned over your head. You felt your stomach somersault, partially from the sudden drop to the floor and partially from the wide smirk on Loki’s face as he hovered over you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Loki released both of your wrists and latched both hands to your sides, squeezing rapidly. You burst into uncontrollable laughter at the agonizingly ticklish sensation. Even Loki seemed somewhat taken aback by your reaction. “No wonder you were so concerned; the spider boy certainly wasn’t lying.”

“Damn you Peteheher!!!” you groaned through your laughter. At this point, everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to see what the sudden commotion was about. You could feel your face burning, knowing everyone’s eyes were on you as Loki tickled you senseless.

You couldn’t bring yourself to fight back very hard, though; after all, you’d been waiting for this to happen for an entire week. You hoped it didn’t seem too obvious. You didn’t dwell on it for long, though, as Loki’s fingers crawled up to your ribs, depriving you of all coherent thought.

“Do you regret spreading humiliating rumors about me yet?” he teased, his smirk widening.

“N-no!”

“Tsk, tsk, wrong answer, darling,” Loki shook his head in mock disappointment, his hands darting back down to your sides so he could dig his thumbs into your hips.

“Lo… Loki… wahahait!” you pleaded, shrieking at the new sensation, and swatting feebly at his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m not comprehending what you’re trying to tell me.” He was laughing now, clearly enjoying himself as he made you squirm under his torturous fingers. “Come, now, darling; I know you can fight better than that.” You shook your head rapidly, grasping weakly at his wrists. He moved to scribble lightly into your belly, trying to allow you the chance to talk while still keeping you giggling. “Use your words, love.”

“I-I cahahan’t!” you protested.

“You can’t? Or you’ve chosen not to?” Your eyes widened a bit, realizing he’d caught on to you. “Are you enjoying this?”

Blushing furiously, you rolled abruptly to the side to break his hold and scrambled to your feet, gasping for breath. Loki stood as well, staring you down for just a moment before lunging toward you. You turned and began to run, but the god easily caught up to you, grabbing hold of your arm and yanking you backward so he could trap you in what you could only describe as a bear hug.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Um…” Your heart was pounding in your chest from both exertion and embarrassment. “No? That would be… that would be weird.”

“On the contrary; I find it amusing. Dare I say… endearing, even.”

“Really..? Are you sure-” You were cut off by your own hysterical laughter as Loki dug his fingertips into your ribs, tickling you with renewed vigor. With your arms pinned to your sides and your back pressed flush against his chest, there was very little hope of you escaping this time.

“Surely you understand the implications of this newfound knowledge, dear? You’ve provided me with the perfect excuse to torment you whenever I’d like.”

“Stohohop teasing… LOKIHIHI!” you pleaded, your knees going weak as his fingers darted up and down your sides. You’d completely forgotten about everyone else in the room at this point, your mind going fuzzy. The only thing keeping you standing upright at this point was Loki holding your weight up as he tortured you.

By the time he released you from his hold, your stomach hurt from laughing so hard, and tears of mirth blurred your vision. It had been quite some time since anyone had tickled you like that. Heat still prickled in your cheeks, but you felt happy, nonetheless.

“Damn. Now I know how to cheer you up when you’re moping around the tower,” Tony quipped, walking past you and patting your shoulder as everyone finally returned to their own training exercises.

“Shut up, Tony,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. A swift poke in the sides made you jerk both arms down away from your face.

“I do believe we’re even,” Loki stated, smirking.

“Fine. We’re even. Now – can we finish our sparring match? Without cheating this time?” You shoved his shoulder playfully to emphasize your point. He only grinned wider.

“Darling, I refuse to make promises that I don’t intend to keep.”

[outofsstyles]

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 

 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?” 

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of PD: Season 5: PTSD (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister imagine)

As always, I don't own any quotes from 5x01 of Chicago PD!

Your age: 16

Jay's age: 30

Will's age: 32

"I just talked to Ballistics. The bullet that hit the little girl was a nine-millimeter."

"I thought the bangers were firing 45s."

"They were."

"You're saying I shot that little girl?"

That. That was the conversation that was replaying in Jay's head as he sat on the couch of his apartment that afternoon. How could he call himself a cop, a good cop, if it was him who shot that girl? He should've known that there an illegal daycare center there, even though no one could've known, he still should've figured it out somehow. But, he was taking heavy fire and he did what he needed to do. But, that didn't make him feel any better. A little girl was in critical condition and fighting for her life at Chicago Med because of him. It was all his fault.

***

Your mind wandered back to the day earlier in the year when it was your sixteenth birthday...and you had gotten the iPhone that was currently blowing up with Twitter notifications all about Jay.

You had gone for breakfast with your dad because he had completed the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and was doing a lot better. He also had visitation rights after he completed the 12 Steps, so he had the right to see you. Since you were 16, you could refuse, but you didn't want your dad to feel bad. And, from what you had heard from Will who had been going to see how he was doing to see if it was safe for you to see him, he was doing really well.

During breakfast, he had given you a gift. You opened it and immediately recognized the bracelet.

"Is this Mom's?" you asked. "I thought you said you couldn't find it when I asked for it when I was like ten."

"I've kept it all these years, I was just waiting for the right time to make sure you'd be able to take care of it and not lose it."

You remembered playing with the charm bracelet when you were little when it dangled off your mom's wrist. There were a bunch of different charms from places she had gone, such as Mount Rushmore, Washington DC, a record charm that she had bought in Hollywood, and for other special occasions, such as a steering wheel charm she got from her parents when she got her driver's license, a graduation cap she got for graduation which she also got from her parents, a wedding dress charm which symbolized the day she married your dad, among other charms.

"Thank you," you replied as you held back tears.

He'd changed, he'd recovered, but there's still no way you'd go back to live with him.

***

"How was breakfast with Dad?" Jay asked as you walked into the apartment after you had breakfast.

"Good. He's doing really good, Jay." You walked up to him and opened the small gift box you were holding. "He gave me this." You held the box out to him and he smiled.

"Mom's charm bracelet?" You nodded. "Want me to put it on you?"

"Please."

Jay's breath hitched as he took the bracelet out of the box. It was like he was holding a little piece of his mom, and this piece of your mom would forever be with you the moment he fastened the clasp.

"It's perfect," you said as you fiddled with a few charms.

You both sat in silence for a few moments, just thinking about the fact that this was your mom's and it was now yours.

"Ready to go get your license?" Jay asked, breaking the silence.

"Is that even a question? Yes!"

You had taken your driver's test a week ago after completing the long process of going through two segments of driver's training classes, taking a written test, securing your learner's permit, and accumulating 50 or more hours of driving practice with either Jay or Will.

Jay chuckled at your excitement. "You good with how you look? You'll have the same license photo until you're 21, you know?"

"Let me go put on some lipstick!"

"Not that super dark reddish-purple one!"

"Yes, that super dark reddish-purple one! It's my favorite and it looks good on me!" you yelled as you ran to your room.

Once you had applied your lipstick, you and Jay made your way to the Secretary of State with all the necessary documents for you to get your license.

***

"Why's my license vertical and not horizontal like yours?" you asked after you exited the building with your brand new license.

"You get a horizontal one when you're 21. Just makes it easier for us cops to identify if you're underage if we ask for your license. And for bartenders to know you're underage if you try to buy alcohol."

"Oh, okay."

"You wanna drive?" Jay asked you.

"Sure. It's no different than me having my permit, though because you'll be in the car," you pointed out.

"So, you don't want to drive."

"No, I do!"

"That's what I thought."

He handed you the keys and you unlocked his truck. You both got in and you started adjusting the seat and the rearview mirror.

"Don't forget to--"

"Adjust the side mirrors. I know, Jay, I know. We've been through this a ton. Trust me."

"You're essentially driving a missile down the road, excuse me if I get nervous."

You rolled your eyes and started to drive, but when you were supposed to turn right, he told you to go left.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"The district," he answered.

"Why?"

"You'll see. Just drive. I'll give you directions because we both know you're bad with those."

"Shut up!"

"What? We both know it's true!"

"No comment."

When you got there, Jay told you to park in front of what he called the "roll-up". To say you were confused would be an understatement; you didn't even know what this was!

"It's where we load our weapons and drive out sometimes. It's the basement," Jay explained.

"Where the cage is?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Adam told me about it. And then when you and  Erin were on  a lunch run for everyone, he showed it to me."

"I'm gonna have to talk to him about that."

Once you finished parking, you turned off the car and handed the keys back to Jay. Then, Jay did this weird, complicated knock on the garage door of the roll-up.

"Surprise!"

You were met with Will standing there. Behind him, was a car, with a bow on top.

"Is this mine?" you asked.

"Yup," Will confirmed. "Dude," he said to Jay, "You're lucky Goodwin let me out early."

"2010 Buick," Jay said as you walked over to examine the car more. "Seized it from a mob boss two weeks ago. It was going to be impounded, but Kev's got a really good car guy, so I didn't have to pay a lot for it."

"Wait," you started, "So this is just from you, Jay?"

"My gift is in your driver's seat," Will said and then he tossed you the keys. Somehow you caught them...you weren't the best when it came to hand-eye coordination.

You unlocked it using the fob and opened the driver's side door. There, on the driver's seat, was a box. And, not just any box: an Apple box.

"Is this...?"

"Open it." Will smiled.

So you did and you squealed so loud that Jay covered his ears. "Damn, high-pitched screams...sometimes worse than the sound of gunshots."

"Sorry! I'm just so excited! I can't believe I got a car and iPhone! You guys are the best! I love you guys so much!"

"We figured it'd save me a ton of time in the morning not to have to drive you to school and, if I get called into a case early or stay at work late, then I wouldn't have to find someone to drop you off or pick you up. And, figured I could always track your phone if necessary," Jay answered.

"I knew there was a catch," you answered.

"Always is," Will joked.

"Are there traps still in the car?" you asked, causing Jay's eyes to go wide.

"How do you know about those?"

"I watch crime shows."

"No," he answered. "Made sure that was one of the very first things Kev's car guy did: remove the traps."

"Aw, man! I was gonna have fun with those!"

"And put what in them?" Will asked. "Candy? Those fancy pens you like?"

"One, there's two different kinds I like: Papermate pens and calligraphy pens. And two, a little bit of this, a little bit of that."

"Care to specific on what those might be?" Jay asked.

"Not really."

"May I remind you that I am a cop and can toss your bedroom like--" He snapped his fingers. "--that."

"Don't you need a warrant for that?"

"It's my house, so I can do what I want. And, I hope I don't need to bring charges against you for whatever you're hiding."

You burst out laughing. "You guys, I'm kidding. I just wanted to see Jay's reaction when I mentioned traps! I wouldn't do anything...especially with Jay as my brother. I'm not that stupid."

"Oh thank God," Jay sighed.

"Can we go? A little birdie let it slip that there's a surprise party for me at the apartment."

Will glared at Jay. "What?" Jay asked as he put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I promise you I did not say a single word about it."

"Mhm." Will rolled his eyes.

"Y/N, would this little birdie be Ruzek?" Jay asked.

"No comment."

"I am never telling him anything remotely secretive again."

But now, you kinda wished you didn't have that phone. Because, all over Twitter, there were people who didn't even know your brother who was saying that he was a racist cop and a child killer.

***

You walked inside to see a very distraught Jay. he was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. And, even though you could only see one side of his face from where you were standing, you could see the dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

"So, it's true?" you asked. Jay jumped and looked at you. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"H-How do you know what happened?"

You sat down next to him. "Twitter. My mentions were blowing up."

"Y/N, you gotta believe me. I wouldn't intentionally shoot a little girl--"

"Jay, I believe you."

"At least she's at Med. Will said she's got a good chance of making it."

"Oh, you didn't hear." He furrowed his eyebrows. "She passed away. I got a notification about it like an hour ago. I'm so sorry, Jay."

"Fuck," was all he said as he buried his head in his hands and began sobbing.

You wanted to comfort him, you really did, but you had no idea what to say. You knew Jay was a good cop and, whatever happened, you knew that he wouldn't purposely kill an innocent little girl. So, you just put a hand on his shoulder as he continued to sob, reminding him that you were still there.

"I'm gonna go talk to Will," he said as he stood up a few minutes later.

He walked over to the kitchen sink and splashed his face with water and dried it with some paper towels while you walked over to him.

"I'll drive you," you told him. "You're not in any shape to be driving right now. I know you'd tell me the same thing."

"No, Y/N, I can drive myself."

"This isn't up for discussion, Jay."

"Yes, it is. My picture's all over the internet. If someone decides to come after me, I don't want you near me out in public. I need you to be safe. Just stay here. Please." His voice cracked on the last word.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

"But please try your best to get home in one piece."

Jay nodded and grabbed his jacket. "I'll be back soon."

But, what he was thinking was totally different. After what I did, I don't deserve to come home in one piece.

***

Jay stormed into the ED just as Will was leaving a treatment room and Will caught sight of Jay and walked towards him.

"You said she was gonna make it!" Jay practically yelled.

"Hey," Will said, quieter, trying to use his trying-to-calm-down-a-patient-voice to hopefully make Jay calm down.

"You said she was gonna..." Jay took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Hey, I said she had a chance, okay? She was in bad shape. Lost too much blood."

"I know."

"There's only so much we can do."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just...the bullet came from my gun. Even though I was aiming at an offender, it went through his abdomen and through a fucking door and into her, Will. Even though it was an accident, I still shot her. I killed an eight-year-old little girl. I killed her."

***

"50-21 George!" Jay yelled into his radio. "I'm taking heavy fire! I got two civilians down in the north alley behind the building."

"This is Sergeant Hank Voight. Advise responding units to shut down a two-block radius."

"Help! Help!"

Jay turned his attention to the building and when he saw it was clear, he pushed open the wooden door and entered.

He nearly choked when he saw what happened.

It was you. You were eight years old, clutching Beary in one hand while Hailey held you and tried to stop the bleeding.

"Y/N!" He had no idea why you were even here, maybe your parents couldn't afford a good, legal daycare center because of your mom's medical bills, but whatever it was, you were here, and you had somehow been shot. He kneeled down next to you and all but threw his sniper on the ground.

"Alright, I'm gonna call an ambulance," Hailey said.

"We don't have time." Somehow, he was aware of where his keys were in his tactical gear. "Go get my car. Fast."

He handed over the keys. "Ready?" Hailey asked as Jay positioned his hands above hers to try and stop the bleeding the minute she removed her hands.

Jay nodded and quickly replaced Hailey's hands with his as she sprinted off to get his truck.

But, then the scene changed.

It became hotter. Jay could feel the dry heat in his mouth and in his throat. He felt the sweat trickle down his face and back. He felt beads of sand on his hands and arms. He looked down to see you resting your head against his leg. And, he wasn't in his normal clothes that he'd wear to work. No, he was in his Rangers uniform.

He had his hands over the same spot on your chest as he had in the daycare center. And, you still had Beary in your hand, albeit a very loose grip on him.

You coughed, causing some blood to come out of your mouth.

"No, Y/N, not like this. Not like this." He removed one hand from the wound and applied all the pressure he could with one hand while he reached for his radio. "This is Halstead to Base." Crackles. "This is Halstead to Base." More crackles. "Please. This is Halstead to Base. I need a med truck now! My sister's been shot." No response. "Please. She's only-- She's only eight years old." His voice cracked. "Please."

You coughed once more and Jay knew trying to reach Base was useless at this point. Jay took his canteen and dabbed a little bit of water on your face and smeared it around, trying to clean the blood off your face. But, as fast as he could clean it, more would come up and out of your mouth.

You let out a strangled breath. Jay knew that sound. That was the sound of someone's last gasp of air that they'd ever take.

"Y/N, please. Please, Short Stack. Stay with me. Help will come. Please, just hang on a little longer."

Then, he saw the all too familiar look of empty eyes in front of him. He let out a strangled sob as he placed his fingers on your eyelids and gently pulled them closed.

Jay shot up in bed with a start. He reached for his chest, feeling for his radio to try and call for help again. It was only when his fingers brushed his bare chest that he realized that he wasn't in the desert of Afghanistan, but in the safety of his own bed, in his own apartment, here stateside, here in Chicago.

He went into the bathroom after his breathing calmed down and jumped into a freezing cold shower, hoping to get the image of an eight-year-old you being shot and killed by his gun out of his head.

But it wouldn't leave.

Jay dried off and then quietly made his way out of his room and over to yours.

He crouched down by your bed and watched as your chest rose and fell, signaling that you were in a deep sleep. You were sleeping on your side and had one leg thrown over the other and a few toes sticking out from under the covers. Beary was next to you. You weren't clutching him like in his nightmare, hell you weren't even holding him, but he was still in your bed. Jay was pretty sure that if that bear wasn't in your bed at night, you wouldn't be able to sleep, despite you being sixteen.

Jay longed to put two fingers to your neck just to check your pulse and make sure he wasn't hallucinating the rising and falling of your chest. But, he knew that was paranoid. He could trust his instincts now. After all, he was awake. There was no stifling heat, no hot sweat (at least, after his shower there wasn't), and no sand. All that was below him was the fluffy rug on your bedroom floor.

He slowly left your room and went back to his. But, instead of getting into bed, he tugged his comforter off his bed and grabbed his pillow. Then, he dragged those two things back into your room and settled down on your rug.

He knew it was probably paranoia, but after that dream, he wanted to make sure you were safe. He wanted to be close to you. Because, God, that dream felt so real.

She's alive, he kept reminding himself as he tried to fall asleep. And, that was the last thing on his mind when he finally fell asleep once more: that you were still alive.

***

Your alarm blared through your quiet room and you rolled over with a groan and turned it off.

"Christ, that was loud. How deep of a sleeper are you?" Jay asked as he rolled over.

You looked at him with sleep still in your eyes. "What are you doing in here?"

"Was a rough night." He yawned. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Okay...?"

"I say ten more minutes."

"Jay, I'll be late."

"I'll drive you, lights and sirens and all."

"Night."

***

"You okay?" you asked around 11:00 pm two weeks later when Jay finally got home from working a case.

"Yeah, just tired," he answered as he went to put his badge and gun away in his room.

"Are you sure it's just that?" you asked when he came out from his room in pajamas.

"I'm sure. Why are you asking?"

"You had that street fair bombing case and two weeks ago, a bullet from your gun--"

"Y/N, I'm fine. I promise. don't you have to get to bed?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday. I don't have school tomorrow."

"So it is. I'm gonna turn in. See you in the morning."

"Aren't you gonna eat something?" you asked.

"I'm not really that hungry. Goodnight."

You knew something was off, but you weren't going to push it, so you just grabbed the remote and started looking for a movie to watch.

***

You coughed, causing some blood to come out of your mouth.

"No, Y/N, not like this. Not like this." He removed one hand from the wound and applied all the pressure he could with one hand while he reached for his radio. "This is Halstead to Base." Crackles. "This is Halstead to Base." More crackles. "Please. This is Halstead to Base. I need a med truck now! My sister's been shot." No response. "Please. She's only-- She's only eight years old." His voice cracked. "Please."

You coughed once more and Jay knew trying to reach Base was useless at this point. Jay took his canteen and dabbed a little bit of water on your face and smeared it around, trying to clean the blood off your face. But, as fast as he could clean it, more would come up and out of your mouth.

You let out a strangled breath. Jay knew that sound. That was the sound of someone's last gasp of air that they'd ever take.

"Y/N, please. Please, Short Stack. Stay with me. Help will come. Please, just hang on a little longer."

Then, he saw the all too familiar look of empty eyes in front of him. He let out a strangled sob as he placed his fingers on your eyelids and gently pulled them closed.

He saw a figure moving towards him and in his hand, a grenade.

"Would you like to join her?"

Jay jolted awake, breathing raggedly. He tried to catch his breath and swallow, but it was no use, the familiar feeling of bile was rising in his throat and he dry heaved all the way to the bathroom before he finally emptied what little was in his stomach into the toilet.

Meanwhile, you furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly opened your eyes. You thought you had heard gagging, but it was gone now, so you tried to close your eyes and go back to sleep. But, then you heard gagging and the sound of something hitting what sounded like water.

Wait, was Jay sick? He never got sick.

You got out of bed and walked over to his room and quietly opened his door. From the dim light of the bathroom, and the disheveled covers on his bed, you knew he was in the bathroom.

"Jay?" you asked as you crept towards his bathroom.

"Y/N, l-leave. Please, just leave me alone ri-right now." You could tell from the sound of his voice that he was panting as if he had just run a marathon.

"Are you okay?"

No. "I'm fine. Just a stomach bug or food poisoning. Go back to bed."

You poked your head into the bathroom. Jay was leaning against the bathtub without a shirt on, with sweat dripping down his face. His mouth was wide open as if he was trying to capture as much oxygen as was humanly possible.

"Maybe I should call Will. I don't think he's on shift."

"Y/N, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You don't look fine at all."

"Y/N, go back to bed. Now."

"But--"

"I said go to bed! So how about you listen for once and just fucking do that? Jesus!"

Your breath caught in your throat. You'd never heard him yell like that...not directed at you at least.

"O-Okay."

You trudged back to your room and laid down. But, sleep didn't come for a while as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Jay put his head in his hands. He had yelled at you. Not only that, but he had sworn at you and you were just trying to help. God, he felt like a terrible brother, a terrible guardian, an overall terrible human being.

He tugged at the roots of his hair, hoping the bit of tugging from that physical pain would calm the mental and emotional pain that had been stirring inside of him for weeks. For weeks he's been like this. Ever since he had been put on his medication, he hadn't even had a nightmare and now he's had them every single day, and he's scared to sleep. What kind of police detective and ex-army ranger is afraid to sleep when they're safe in their own house? He was one of them and, God, he hated himself for it.

Not getting more than three restless hours of sleep per night was starting to have an impact on him at work. They all knew that a sleepy cop was a dead cop, but Jay was still alive. But, there were downfalls, such as getting jittery from all the caffeine he was ingesting early in the morning and then crashing and almost falling asleep doing reports when he had to work late. Well, he didn't have to work late per se, he decided to work late to put off sleeping. He knew none of this was helpful and none of this would solve the problem, but he thought it would be fine. Everything would be fine and the nightmares would eventually go away. They always do. And then everything would be normal again in his brain.

God, he longed for that: the normalcy.

So, for the umpteenth night in a row, he grabbed a pillow and a blanket and made his way to your bedroom to sleep on the floor to make sure you were alive. He put his watch on vibrate and set the alarm for 6 am because he knew you wouldn't be awake that early...especially not on the weekend.

Only when the irrational part of his brain was sure that you weren't going to die, did he finally find solace in sleep.

***

Went to get coffee with Will and to work on homework. Be home eventually, you scribbled on a sticky note and stuck it on the back of the apartment door before you left. Jay had gotten called in to work a case earlier this morning, and you needed a change of scenery to work on some AP World History homework.

You grabbed your backpack, keys, and wallet, and made your way to the parking garage. Then, you left.

About ten minutes later, you arrived at the coffee shop. Not seeing Will, you set your stuff down and went to grab a coffee and a muffin. Don't get it wrong, Jay still didn't like the fact that you drank coffee, but you only drank it when you went out to get it. It wasn't like you drank it every morning or drank two or three cups a day like he did.

You started to read your textbook and take some notes on the vocab. You were so focused that you jumped when Will slid into the chair across from you and said your name.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Lots to do?"

"Not a ton," you replied. "Just gotta read a chapter and take some notes. Then I'm done with homework for the weekend."

"So, you said you think something's up with Jay?" Will asked.

You had texted him that morning to see if you could meet up because you were worried. You had seen how tired he looked and how he poured his coffee into a larger tumbler than normal, one that was almost double the size of his normal one. Bags under his eyes and more coffee than normal had given you the impression that Jay was no longer sleeping, and rightfully so.

"I don't think he's sleeping," you told him.

"And you know this how?" Will asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because he looks like shit- sorry, he looks like crap, and he drinks a ton more coffee in the morning than he normally does."

"Maybe he just doesn't like the coffee at the district and is bringing more from home," he suggested.

"I don't think so."

"Is he still working out? Still going to the gym?"

"I think so. I'm usually still asleep when he goes, so I wouldn't know either way."

"Anything else?"

"Uh, actually, yeah." You closed your textbook. "I'm pretty sure he was sick last night."

"Sick? Like how sick?"

"He was puking. I wanted to call you but he told me no."

"How'd you find him?"

"Leaning against the bathtub, no shirt, dripping sweat, and mouth wide open."

"I see," Will said. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Last night when I mentioned calling you, he said he was fine. But, when I pushed, he told me to leave and when I told him no, he yelled and cursed at me."

"He swore at you?" Will grit his teeth.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I don't know what's going on, Will. He hasn't been himself lately."

"Hey, I'll figure it out, okay? I'll make sure he's okay. I can even come over later tonight and check him out if you want me to."

"He'll fight you on that."

"I'm used to unruly patients. Is that what you--" His phone rang and he held up a finger to you to wait for a second while he answered. "Hey, Maggie. What's up?" He paused and then sighed. "I'll be right there." He hung up the phone and started gathering his stuff.

"What? Did something happen and you have to go to work?" you asked.

"Oh, something happened all right. I just got a call saying Jay was brought into Med."

You started to pack up your backpack and grabbed your keys. "I'll follow you there."

***

Jay didn't know what happened. One second he was driving, blinking heavily, the next Hailey was yelling at him and had reached over to grab the wheel, but it was too late. He was too close. When he opened his eyes, he tried to slam on the brake, but it didn't help. The next millisecond, he and Hailey crashed into an electrical pole in Pilsen.

He was awake after that.

"What the hell happened?" Voight asked after he had thrown his car in park and he and Al rushed over to Jay and Hailey.

"I think he fell asleep at the wheel," Hailey answered as she and Jay both stepped out of the truck.

"I did not," Jay protested.

"Oh yeah? Then how do you explain you just running into an electrical pole when there weren't even cars running us off the road?" Hailey yelled.

"I didn't fall asleep! I'm fully awake! Just drop it, Upton."

"Drop it? You do know if we would've hit that at full speed and it fell on us that we could've been electrocuted to death, right?"

"But that didn't happen--"

"Halstead, Upton, I'm bringing both of you to Med to get checked out. After that, you're going home to get some rest, Halstead. You look like hell," Voight told them.

"Sarge--"

"This isn't up for discussion. Get in the damn car." The two detectives walked to Voight's car, while Voight turned to Alvin. "Call Platt to get us some patrolmen to help. You good waiting here for them to pick you up while I bring them to Med?"

"Yeah, go. I'll handle this."

When Jay finally got to Med, to say he was not happy would be an understatement. He didn't need to be in the hospital and he sure as hell didn't need to be kicked off the case and told to go home to get some rest.

"Mags, what room is he in?"

Shit, they had called Will.

"Treatment Four."

Will walked into the room followed by you.

"You didn't have to come, neither of you did."

"Well, too bad," Will said. "Should've put her as your emergency contact instead of me. Oh wait, you can't, she's still too young. Guess you're stuck with me."

"All set," Hailey said as she walked in. "You ready to go?"

"Who's this?" you asked.

"My new partner," Jay told you. "Hailey, this is Y/N and Will, my siblings I told you about. Y/N and Will, my new partner, Hailey Upton."

"Nice to meet you. I've heard good things."

Will scoffed. "Would one of those good things be that Jay absolutely hates hospitals and I always have to make sure he doesn't leave against medical advice?"

"He didn't mention that, no."

"Well, either way, nice to meet Jay's new partner. Do you mind if I talk to him? Privately?"

"No problem."

Will turned to you. "You too, Y/N. Go grab some food or hang out with Hailey or something."

Will focused his attention on Jay when you and Hailey had left the treatment room. "Y/N told me she doesn't think you're sleeping and from what I heard from Maggie about why you were brought in here, don't even bother lying to me."

"I'm fine, Will, really. Nothing to worry about."

"Fine then. I'm gonna go order a blood test."

"Blood test? You're not even on shift! And, you can't even be my doctor if you were!" Jay protested.

"I read that April's your nurse, so I'm going to go find her and tell her to order a blood test then."

"Why?"

"To see if your plasma cortisol levels are elevated and if your cortisol testosterone levels have decreased," Will answer matter-of-factly.

"And you need those because...?"

"If the plasma cortisol level is elevated and the cortisol testosterone level is lowered, then those are both indicators that you haven't been sleeping. Be back, little brother."

Jay groaned and threw his head back. He didn't think he'd need to be stuck with a needle today. If only had put someone else down as his emergency contact, then this wouldn't be happening. Or, if his brother just wasn't a doctor or didn't work at this specific hospital then this wouldn't be happening, either.

***

Jay was walking you to school when you were eight years old. On your back, you had your backpack and you were holding Jay's hand and skipping to keep up with his long strides. Jay chuckled at how cute and innocent you were. He didn't want you to ever grow up.

"Jay Jay," you started, causing him to look down at you, "Did you get all the bad guys when you left?"

"Why do you ask?" He swallowed. He knew if you asked the right questions, he might not know how to answer them. And, his last tour was horrific, losing all the members of his unit except Mouse...the burning Humvee...the combatants still coming towards them...

"I don't know. I just wanted to know if there were any left?" you asked.

"There probably are."

"Do you have to go back there? Do you have to leave again to go fight the bad guys?"

Jay's breath hitched. He was honorably discharged after what had happened, so he wouldn't have to back. But, as he was thinking about how to answer you, the scene changed.

Screaming. All he could hear was screaming and the crackling of flames.

He looked around saw the scene from his last tour, his Humvee flipped over with all the members of his unit currently burning to crisp. He and Mouse had been walking behind, keeping watch of their six which is why they weren't in there.

"Help! Jay Jay, help!" He heard you scream and racked his brain from where that could be coming from because you were an ocean away, no way were you actually there.

"Dude, your sister's in there!" And Mouse took off running.

Jay quickly caught up to him. "What? She's not here! She's at home in Chicago!"

"No, she's not! You couldn't bear to leave her, so you brought her with you!"

Okay, now Jay knew he was caught in the midst of a nightmare because he would never do that. He would never bring a little girl into the midst of a war where she could get hurt or killed. Damn that melatonin he took that night because he was currently in so deep a sleep that he couldn't wake up.

"Jay Jay!"

He took off running again and came up to the edge of the Humvee. Your leg was crushed under it and it was one of the only parts of the vehicle that hadn't caught fire...yet. He needed to get you out and he needed to get you out fast or else you would be burned to death. But, to do that, he knew he'd be sacrificing your leg.

"Mouse! Get me a tourniquet and the biggest knife you have! Make sure you sterilize it!" Jay shouted. You let out a whine.

"You're doing a field amputation?" Mouse asked as he grabbed the supplies.

"I don't have any other choice." You let out a whimper. "Hey, hey, look at me. Focus on me. I'm gonna get you out of there."

"P-Promise?" you asked as tears ran down your cheeks.

"I promise. Now I need you to hold really still and be a brave girl, okay? Can you be brave for me?" You nodded as Mouse handed Jay the equipment for the tourniquet. "This is going to hurt," Jay warned you as he slid the piece of fabric underneath your leg and then started tying it.

You screamed out in agony.

"I know, I know. But, It's gotta be tight. It's gotta be tight, kiddo."

"Jay! Nine o'clock!"

Jay turned to his left and pointed his gun straight at the combatant.

"Jay...Jay..." he heard your voice wavering as you tried to get his attention. But, it didn't sound like your voice. It sounded lower, more mature even. "Jay, please." the voice that sounded like you was pleading now. "Jay Jay, please. You're- You're safe."

Jay snapped his eyes open.

There you were, at sixteen years old, holding your hands up in surrender. He was home, in Chicago.

"Jay, please," you whispered once more.

It was only when he looked down that he realized he must've thought you were the combatant in his dream because he had his service weapon pointed straight at you.

He dropped his gun onto his bed. "Y/N, I- you gotta believe me. That wasn't--"

But you were already running out of his room to grab your keys and get as far away from Jay as possible.

***

Will was awoken to a loud knocking on his door at 2:37 in the morning. "Who the fuck is here right now?" he muttered as he rubbed his eyes and stood up and threw on a shirt.

But, all his anger at being woken up at this ungodly hour washed away as he looked through the peep-hole and saw you, tears still streaming down your face.

He yanked the door open. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"

"He pointed a gun at me!" you wailed as you entered.

Will shut the door and made his way over to you. "Who? Did you tell Jay? Where were you?"

"Jay was the one who did it, Will! He pointed the- the gun right at me!"

Will's breath caught in his throat. He had his hunches that Jay was having nightmares again based on what you had told him and based on him falling asleep while driving and based on his blood work, but he didn't think they'd have gotten this bad. "Are you okay? he asked you quietly.

You shook your head and Will led you over to the couch.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You sighed. "I heard him scream, so I woke up to see what was wrong. When I walked- When I walked into his room he was squeezing his pillow with his hand like he was holding something. He was dripping sweat."

You paused and took a deep breath.

"It's okay," Will told you. Take your time."

"Then, he just, he just whipped around and grabbed his gun from- from on top of his nightstand. I don't why it wasn't in the safe where it usually is. And that's when he..."

"That's when he pointed it at you?"

You nodded as tears rolled down your cheeks. "I said his name over and over and he finally snapped out of it."

"And that's when you came here?"

You nodded again.

"Well, how about we put on a movie, and then you can try to get some sleep. I'll stop over at Jay's tomorrow when you're at school. I'm pretty sure you have some clothes here just in case."

"Thanks, Will."

"No problem, Short Stack."

***

Jay heard a knock on his door the next day. Will had texted him and told him that you were safe and at his place because Jay had been blowing up Will's phone looking for you. So, at least he wasn't worried about that anymore.

Jay sipped his beer and waited for the knocking to stop, but it just became increasingly louder.

"Jay, open the damn door!"

Reluctantly, with beer still in hand, Jay stood up and opened his apartment door. "What the hell are you doing here?" Jay asked.

"Gimme that," Will said as he ripped the beer bottle from Jay's hand after he'd entered his apartment. "And, for your information, I'm making sure you're not drinking yourself to death." He looked around at the two other empty beer bottles on the counter. It wasn't even one o'clock in the afternoon yet. "Which, I guess I came just in time."

"Just let me drink it." Jay tried to take the bottle back, but Will held it out of his reach. Then, he made his way over to the kitchen sink and poured it out.

"Shit, man. I paid for that."

"I don't really give a damn right now, Jay. You pointed a fucking gun at our little sister. She came to my place bawling last night. You're lucky she didn't get into a car accident because of how distraught she was when she was driving."

"I know, I know. I fucked up, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, you fucked up all right. This is probably the single-handed worse thing you've done in your entire life."

"Did you just come here to lecture me?" Jay yelled. "If so, the door's that way and you can get the hell out!"

Will sighed. "I didn't come here just to do that, but I needed to get that out first. You need to talk to someone about this, Jay."

"I'm talking to you. Isn't that enough?"

"A trained professional."

"You are a trained professional."

"I'm a trained medical professional, not a trained psychological professional."

Jay sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. That scene from last night had been replaying in his head for almost twelve hours now.

Him hearing your voice...seeing you with your hands raised while they were shaking...how much of whisper your voice was...the feeling of guilt that swallowed him whole when he noticed he was holding his service weapon...you sprinting out of the house in the middle of the night...

"Jay," Will said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You still with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm still here. Sorry." He paused. "Last night, I guess I was so out of it that I forgot to lock up my gun and left it on my bedside table. If I had just locked it up, this wouldn't have happened. If I just wouldn't have taken the melatonin, this wouldn't have happened. If I was just able to fucking sleep this wouldn't have happened."

"How long haven't you been sleeping?" Will asked gently.

"The nightmares started when I shot that little girl, Will."

"Jay, it's been weeks since that happened."

"I know. And they just keep getting worse. At first, it was Y/N who was the little girl I shot when I was chasing the offenders when the bullet went through the illegal daycare center. And then, they started turning into me being overseas and Y/N somehow being with me and her being shot over there. Last night- last night was the worst."

"You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to."

"Thank you," Jay replied. Because in all honestly, that was one of the worst nightmares he's ever had since getting on his medication.

"Is that why you're sleeping on Y/N's bedroom floor?"

"How'd you know? I didn't even think she knew."

"She knows. She said she'll wake up in the middle of the night and you'll be there, on her floor, with a pillow and a blanket, and you'll sneak out before she wakes up."

"I just, I needed to make sure she was safe. I needed to make sure she was still alive, Will."

"I really think you need to talk to someone. Maybe ask about getting your meds increased."

"I've been on the same dose for over two years now. You really think they'd need to be upped?"

"It's a possibility. But, we need to talk about Y/N now."

Jay sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, we do. I have no idea what to do, Will. I'm supposed to be her legal guardian and I couldn't even keep her safe. I was the one who made her feel not safe."

"I know it's gonna be hard for you to hear this," Will started, "but, she doesn't want to come back here for a little while."

"Yeah, I figured that when she didn't answer my texts."

"Listen, she and I talked this morning, and if you go see someone today or tomorrow and see someone about getting your meds upped, she'd stay with me for two weeks so the meds have time to get into your system, and then we'll go from there."

"So, all I have to do is get my meds upped?"

"Well, that might be the best option. But, I still think you should talk to someone, Jay. Either a therapist or a psychiatrist or even a veteran's support group might be helpful."

"Okay. But, can you just tell her that I'm so sorry? And that, I wasn't in my right mind? I didn't know it was her, I swear."

"I know you didn't. Now, no more drinking, you have appointments to schedule." Will paused. "Have you talked to Voight? Maybe you shouldn't be working while you're trying to figure this out."

"I do not need to take time off."

"Yes, you do. Do you want our little sister to hate you or not?"

"Fine. I'll take two weeks furlough."

"That's all I ask. Please do not get shitfaced because I will babysit you if I have to."

"Then who's gonna stay with Y/N?"

"I'll figure something out."

***

"You're sure I'm good to go back?" you asked Will as you walked into yours and Jay's apartment building.

"Y/N, he hasn't had a nightmare in a week and a half. Everything's gonna be fine," Will answered.

"I know. I know I shouldn't be scared of my own brother, but, uh, what happened that night, it was..."

"Terrifying?" Will finished for you.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, I'll be there the entire weekend in case anything happens."

"Thanks, Will."

***

Later that night, you laid in bed, trying to fall asleep. But, you couldn't. You just couldn't shake the feeling of walking into Jay's room to try and wake him from a nightmare and having a gun pointed right at you. You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe tonight was the night that Jay would have a nightmare and end up sleepwalking into your bedroom with his gun drawn.

So, you were sitting up in bed, at 3:30 am, having just finished your last movie an hour and a half ago with your lamp on and the current book you were reading open.

You heard the sound of your door opening and looked up.

You held your breath.

Jay was in your room.

"Y/N, what are you still doing awake?" he asked, slowly moving closer to you so he didn't scare you.

You sighed in relief. He was conscious. He was awake.

"I can't sleep," you answered honestly.

"Is it because of me? That you can't sleep?" You looked down and that was all the confirmation Jay needed. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I've said it a lot these past few weeks, but I'm truly sorry. You have to understand that it wasn't me."

"I know. I just, you scared you me, Jay. I was scared I was going to die that night."

"Y/N, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened."

"And you haven't had any nightmares?"

"None in over ten days," he answered.

"Then why are you in my room? I know you come in here sometimes after you have nightmares."

"I came to make sure you were sleeping. Will mentioned you were nervous and I know you don't like to sleep when you're nervous."

"Oh." You paused. "Can you tell me what you were dreaming about? When you pointed the gun at me?"

"Y/N, I'd really prefer not to. I don't want to go back there."

"I get it," you said. "It's traumatic. Like how even though Dad isn't drinking anymore, I don't want to go back and live with him."

"Exactly."

You moved over. "You can come sit if you want." Jay sat down on the bed next to you and handed you Beary so that he didn't squash him. You closed your book. "Can you tell me a story?"

"Like a fairytale like when you were little and Mom would make me read those princess books to you?" Jay chuckled.

"No, maybe a you and Will story or a me and you story from I was little and don't remember much?"

Jay thought for a second until he found the perfect one filed away in his brain under Y/N stories. "Do you remember that time when you brought your first aid kit on your bike because you had just made it in girl scouts?"

"A little, but not really."

"Okay, I'll tell you that one then."

"Jay Jay!" little seven-year-old you exclaimed as you run up to Jay. "Ride bikes with me?"

"I think my bike has a flat tire, but I can get my skateboard. Is that okay with you?" Jay asked.

"Yeah! But Mommy said you gotta wear a helmet because she said we gotta protect our heads," you told him while putting your hands on your hips.

"That's right! How could I forget that? I'll be right back and then we can go, okay?"

"Okay!"

While Jay ran off to find his bike, you ran off to get your first aid kit that you had just made in girl scouts and Beary to put in the little basket on the front of your purple princess bike.

You waited for him and when he reappeared with his skateboard and helmet, he asked what you had.

"Beary and this I made in girl scouts yesterday," you told him. "It has bandaids and this white tape and white soft stuff and wipies."

You handed it to him to take a look. Inside, there were different sizes of bandaids, medical tape, gauze, and antiseptic wipes. "This is such a good first aid kit, kiddo!"

"Thank you!"

You got your bike out of the garage and clipped on your helmet. Jay pressed down on the horn attached to your handlebars before stepping onto his skateboard.

You two rode down the street and then Jay got to a ramp that some kids had made. There was one ramp, a gap, and then another ramp.

"Jay Jay!" you exclaimed. "Can you go on that?"

Jay had gone on homemade skateboard ramps like those hundreds of times. Hell, he'd even made one home and he and Will would do kickflips in the air when going on it when your guys' mom was home. She'd have a heart attack if she saw her sons doing that.

"I can even do a trick while I'm in the air," Jay told you.

"Really?" you asked, your eyes going wide.

"Really. Wanna see?"

"Yes please!"

Jay started a few yards back from the first ramp and started propelling himself forward, gaining speed. Then, your jaw dropped as he skated onto the first ramp and into the air.

"Whoa," you whispered to yourself as he did his kickflip in midair between the two ramps.

But, Jay had overestimated the distance between the two ramps, so when he landed, he landed on the road and not the ramp with way too much force, causing him to fall off his skateboard and land on the ground, scraping his hands across the road.

"Jay Jay!" you yelled as you quickly kicked down your kickstand and grabbed your first aid kit. "Are you okay?" you asked.

Jay stood up and grabbed his skateboard. "I'm fine. Just a little blood, nothing to worry about."

"You're bleeding? Where? I can fix it."

He held up his right hand where his palm was a little bloody. You started to open your first aid kit and Jay knew there was no point in arguing with you, so he just crouched down to your height.

You grabbed a bandaid and started to open it. "You gotta clean it out first, nurse," Jay told you.

"Oh. With the wipey-thingies?"

"Yes, with those."

You opened one of the antiseptic wipes--with Jay's help because those were really hard to open!--and wiped down his palm. Then, you put the bandaid on.

"All better!" you exclaimed as you put the trash back into your first aid kit. "Can we keep going?" you asked.

"We sure can!"

You ran back to your bike and put the first aid kit into the basket next to Beary and then you got on your bike and caught up to Jay. And then, you were off around the block again.

"We really thought you were going to be a doctor or a nurse after that," Jay said. "But, then you realized you hated both math and science." He looked down at you. "Oh, you're asleep."

He set your book on your nightstand and turned off the lamp. Then, he slowly crept out of your room and closed the door, and went back to his room to fall into a nightmare-less sleep.

Despite Will sleeping on the couch, things were back to normal in yours and Jay's apartment and neither of you could've been happier.

A/N: Hey guys, I wanted to get this posted before I'm away for the weekend and probably without internet. As always, thank you for reading, and please reblog/like and comment! I love hearing what you guys think, as it gives me tons of motivation to keep writing! If you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things 

[slayerkid]

✧✧✧On this day Kirsis was born✧✧✧

Lol this is just my fancy way of saying that it's my birthday today. Yup, January 1st is THE day for me. Not even talking in RP, I the owner of this blog was born on this day.

Lol time for me to write like bullet points on a TWST au for Kirsis, the OC I use sometimes as my sona for this account.

Twisted Wonderland headcannon for Kirsis

Kirsis would technically be based off Oswald the Lucky Rabbit

I'm going the Epic Mickey route where people forgot about Oswald. So in TWST, Kirsis has a curse on him that makes people forget about him.

It gets kinda frustrating sometimes because Kirsis gets mistaken for either a visitor at Night Raven College or some students think he is looking for someone at the college

He sits at the back of classes so he doesn't get the repetitive questioning from teachers

Yes he still does his assignments, by name he is in the school system, people just forget he is there. So he still gets graded on things.

He would be assigned to the Ignihyde dorm since he indulges in tech stuff such as PC building, playing video games, doing art, and sometimes dabbles in learning how to engineer

Because of his curse, people don't remember who occupies the room that he is in, but they know that someone definitely lives there.

Once MC shows up at Night Raven, things change a little since the curse didn't seem to affect MC's memories of Kirsis

Kirsis would develop some attachment to MC since they really were the only one who they could really have a full conversation with and have it not be forgotten the next day

Kirsis would hang around the Ramshackle door sometimes when he wasn't working on school work or just keeping to himself

He'd be an honorary Ramshackle member at least in MC's eyes

Grim does forget about Kirsis and at this point MC and Kirsis just have a scripted dialogue on how to introduce Kirsis to him whenever Grim was around

Kirsis birthday event scenario

Kirsis never really celebrated his birthday after he was cursed since there wasn't a point to if he couldn't really celebrate it with others

Things changed when MC was around

Though MC would arrange for a small surprise party for their friend

MC was setting up the party which lead to a misconception with Ace thinking that MC was planning a birthday party for themselves

So Ace attempted to tell others about it to make surprise visits to the small party and it caused more people to spread it around

Word got to the Diasomnia dorm, which derailed the message into people such as Silver and Sebek thinking that MC was making a surprise birthday party for Lilia since Lilia actually shares the same birthday as Kirsis

Poor MC and Grim

What was once a small party of 3 turned out to be a party of around 25

MC and Grim definitely had to scatter around to accommodate last minute for more people showing up

Things got messy when Lilia showed up (with Silver and Sebek dragging him to the dorm) at the same time Kirsis did

MC had to clear it up to people that the party was intended for Kirsis

Which everyone was confused who that was, and Kirsis felt a bit embarrassed and ashamed

Though before things would escalate, Lilia, while not remembering who Kirsis was, would calm things down by saying that while everyone thought they were here for just him, they should also be welcoming to Kirsis also especially since the party was made for him anyways

Lilia would basically reassure Kirsis that he's sharing the spotlight too

And they both stuck together during the whole party with MC also jumping in to talk to the two

Kirsis knows that everyone but MC will forget about him, but he'll cherish the day for what it was

Especially since his friend MC went out of their way to make this surprise birthday party a reality

And for that, they truly felt glad to celebrate their birthday with people after a long while of not doing so

[theboyzuniverse]

Jealous?

Request: Your smuts are great. Can I request a Jacob one? That boy is soft yet so sexy.

Content: Jealous sex, a little rough but not really.

You excitedly waited in anticipation as your best friend Kevin starts singing his part. You missed him so much as he had gone home to Canada for a month, and you barely had time to even text each other during his vacation. Kevin's voice really was beautiful. Of course your boyfriend Jacob would always be your favorite singer, but Kevin's own voice came a close second.

Kevin makes eye-contact with you as he sings, and you smile back cheering them on. The next thing you know you're locking eyes with Jacob who looks sinfully hot as he danced. You loved the duality of his persona on stage and the way he was actually the softest person you know as he got off the stage. Your heart skips a beat as he smirks, you were all for sexy on stage Jacob.

"So how was it?" Kevin asks you excitedly as you meet them backstage.

"Amazing, as usual." You smile and give him a hug.

"We have a lot to catch up on," He tells you as you nod excitedly. "But right now I'm exhausted so I'll actually see you later."

Kevin gives you another hug as he's about to leave.

"Okay okay, can I finally get a hug from my girlfriend?"

Jacob walks towards you with the softest smile that was enough to melt away any evil in the world.

"You were perfect!" you tell him before he can ask you about the performance and he just laughs.

"I gotta get changed and meet some people, do you mind waiting at home? I'll come home, clean up, and we can go out for dinner or something."

"Or we can order in."

He smiles again and gives you a peck. Jacob knows you love going out, and even if he loves staying in he always goes out of his way to do the things you love. This time you wanted to do what he wanted, which is stay home and cuddle, because this man actually spoils you way too much. Of course he never expects anything back as long as you were happy, but you can't help wanting to take the things he liked to do in consideration. Dating someone so opposite to you wasn't always easy, but compromising to what the other liked to do helped you get closer and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes, we can absolutely do that, I'll see you at home."

So you go back to the apartment where Hyunjae and Juyeon also live. The boys now lived in separate apartments shared with their respective roommates they had while they lived in a dorm. You hoped a little that the other boys wouldn't stay home so that you and Jacob could have some alone-time together. Your phone rings as soon as you settle down on the sofa.

"Y/N!"

Kevin waves at you through the screen with a face mask on, and you laugh at him.

"Can't fall asleep again?" You ask him.

"You know it," He replies, and starts playing a Beyonce music in the background. Kevin and his never-ending love for all things Beyonce.

"So how was the family?"

"First thing, it wasn't as crazy as I expected it to be..."

He starts going on a rant about the clash between families. His older sister had gotten married, causing some of their family to fly over from Korea to Canada. A lot of people coming together had caused a lot of drama.

"...but the important thing was like, I did get to sing for her and choose the song though there was a lot of protest. I went crazy at the after-party, that was fun."

"Oh gosh... You didn't."

"Oh yes I did, Kevin went wild baby!"

Then he got up and started twerking like the mess he is, making you laugh and wheeze when a very confused Eric saw him. You started to calm down when Jacob arrived home, he looked a little tired.

"Hey Kev," He said emotionlessly to the screen. "I'll go clean up, I'll be right back."

Jacob gives you a peck and goes to clean up.

"He must be really tired," Kevin commented. "I'll leave you guys alone now, call you later?"

"Yeah yeah,"

"Love you," Kevin pouts his lips. Sometimes you wonder why you're even friends.

"Love you too, Kev."

You hang up and go to Jacob's room, he was still in the shower. The room was dark except for some fairy lights you got for him. It was pretty and calming, and the warm yellow light had reminded you of Jacob's warmth, that was why you had bought it for him. You freeze in your spot when you see Jacob coming out from the bathroom, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, making you feel all sorts of things. This man's duality constantly keeps you on your feet. He immediately notices you staring and starts moving towards you.

"So you're finally done talking to him?"

You're flustered and nervous at his words, and the close proximity of where he was standing. He sounded jealous but you were confused, it wasn't like Jacob to be jealous.

"Y-yeah," You finally replied after a short pause.

He leans in for a kiss but instead of being soft and pulling you in by the waist as he usually did, he corners you and pins you to the wall. The kiss was already deep and rough as soon as he started, no usual build up.

Jacob pulled away so you both could catch your breath he looked at you straight in the eyes. His stare sent a chill down your spine, it scared you a little yet it was thrilling and exciting. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

"Do you do this on purpose?" He asked, slightly clenching.

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn't help yourself.

"Do what?"

"Always try to make me f***ing jealous."

You were shocked at him actually cussing.

"I-"

He cuts you off with another kiss.

"You know, exactly, what you're doing," He says between kisses, and starts getting rougher.

Jacob removes his lips from yours only to attach them to your neck again. Extending your neck to give him more access came way too naturally for you, and before you knew it he snaked an arm around your waist and one reached into your shirt. While leaving a few more hickeys on your neck, he squeezes your nipples a little and with the sudden sensation you let out a little moan which makes him smirk.

"I'm gonna have to teach you that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way,"

His tone is different, his eyes look different. The man you were looking at had little traces of the soft Jacob that you knew, and for some reason it was turning you on. He looked hot as hell, and you found yourself feeling a little nervous. It wasn't like you haven't had sex with him before, but this side of Jacob was new. He looked incredibly sexy, and you actually liked it.

"Already very wet for me I see,"

Jacob lays you down on the bed as he reaches inside your skirt and palms you over your panties making you squirm a little. Then he takes out his hands making you frown, disappointed because it had felt good.

"Don't squirm," He commands you.

"Yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jacob."

He removes your shirt, and you remove your bra as he works on your skirt. Then before you can brace yourself he inserts a finger inside you making you gasp. He slowly pumps his hand and goes faster as you start bucking your hips to match his pace. You were so turned on you felt like you would come easily, and he knew it. You thought he would stop before you orgasmed but he doesn't stop even as you start clenching around him and reach your orgasm.

"Good girl," He kisses your lips again, "But we're not done."

You stare at him, it was the first time you two were going immediately for seconds. Then you realize he hasn't even removed his towel yet, and you gasp a little when he does, he was so hard. He positions himself at your entrance and thrusts into you, not giving you time to really adjust. It hurts the first two times mostly because you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you start feeling really good again.

Jacob clasps his hands with yours pushing them into the sheets as his thrusts become faster. You try to meet his thrusts but every time he hits your sweet spot you melt into the pleasure he was giving you, it sent you into a kind of bliss that only he alone could make you feel. He kisses you and immediately stops when you start clenching around him again. You whine in protest when he pulls out.

"Turn around," He commands.

You comply, immediately wanting more as soon as possible. He immediately slides into you again with no pause, one hand on your hips and one slightly pulling at your hair. You moan again surprised at how good it all felt, you usually wanted to be able to see him at all times when you were having sex.

After a few more thrusts Jacob lets go of your hair and reaches down to rub your clit which sends you into overdrive. You start clenching around him again, this time he doesn't stop and you reach your climax for the second time that night. He keeps at it a few more times as he also reaches his high, and his thrusts become sloppy as you both finish riding out your orgasms. He pulls out and turns you around to kiss you.

"You know I'm the only one who can make you feel this way right?"

"You're the only one who can make me feel this way," You confirm.

He smiles, and your soft Jacob is back. Lying down next to you he pulls you into his arms kissing your forehead.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, but you were kinda hot." He blushes a little at your remark.

Yup, your boyfriend was back.

"Maybe he can show up from time to time."

"Definitely," You agree.

The both of you barely manage to get up and wash up a little before you fall asleep. You were completely tired and worn out.

The next day you wake up to Jacob's kisses on your cheeks and you smile. You think about the night before and become slightly distracted. Seriously? In the morning? You scold yourself. However, Jacob seemed to have the same idea as he rolled on top of you and kissed you, then slightly grinding himself on you. You moan a little as he does so. You don't know whether its because it was morning but you felt like you could almost come immediately as he keeps grinding on to you. The friction of thin clothes that separated you made it feel so good.

"I'm almost there," He half-whispered.

You put your hands on his arms and dig into them.

"Me too," You mumbled back as you both almost immediately reached your high.

You were surprised that this could happen just by grinding on each other.

"We better get up," Jacob tells you. "I smell breakfast."

Neither of you bother to wash up first and head straight to the Kitchen where Hyunjae and Juyeon are eating breakfast. They both stare at you.

"What?" You ask taking a bite of the bacon.

"So first thing in the morning huh?" Juyeon teased as Jacob almost chokes on his cereal.

[uwurakax]

boy, i hate you ♡

pairing: akaashi x reader ♡

genre: angst // cheating // suggestive (not explicit) ♡

summary: you swore to yourself that you’d never stay with a cheater, so why was it so hard to let go? ♡

♡ the sequel “boy, i need you” - read the second part here ♡

word count: 1.9k ♡

author’s note: ok this has been in my mind for ages now and i need this to go into the universe. i haven’t written in years so i am crappy rusty as hell (pls be kind ty). i don’t normally write but i had to. i also believe theres no gender mentioned? (it’s like 4am and i’ve had zero sleep so pls), but i suppose it leans to f!reader. i’ll regret uploading this later haha 🤟😭 also hasn’t been proofread and i wrote this at like 1am (excuses for my terrible writing yup, don’t judge me haha) ♡

♡ (inspired by f.u by little mix) ♡

infidelity

/ɪnfɪˈdɛlɪti/

noun

1. the action or state of being unfaithful to a spouse or partner

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, with your eyes red and wet was not an uncommon occurrence. You supposed at one point, it was, but those days felt like a distant dream. You had cried so much, it was a wonder you could keep up the waterworks. Your eyes were swollen, bloodshot and dry. The moisture had left them and were spilled, half dry, on your cheeks. 

It was pathetic. So pathetic how you could keep putting yourself through this. Day after day, breakdown after breakdown, you didn’t know how much more you could take. You quickly wiped away any more stray tears with the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing.  His hoodie. 

You wondered how much liquid had been soaked up by his clothes. An ironic display of him comforting you indirectly when he was the one who caused those tears to spill in the first place.

You took a deep inhale and leaned over the porcelain countertop. It felt wrong. It felt awkward. It felt..dirty. You gripped the sides of the counter. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it all went wrong, it was just like it happened. Or maybe it didn’t, and it was there long before you had taken notice of the signs. 

All you knew was that suddenly, he wasn’t yours anymore. The home you shared with him wasn’t yours. Hell, even this goddamn pristine white bathroom wasn’t yours. For the past year or so, it was slowly losing the essence of you and him, and somehow converged into a you, him and her. You wondered if it just lost your sense entirely and had become his and hers - you being just a warm body that filled the cold space when he was gone, whether that be at work or when he had to take a ‘trip’. 

You were so sick of it. All the insecurity of when it started, why weren’t you enough, how’d it happen, and all those basic questions associated with a partner cheating were bubbling up inside of you. 

You wanted to push all the blame on him. You wanted to hate him, despise him for reducing you to the pathetic crying mess you were now, but you couldn’t. You knew, deep down inside, at some point it stopped being entirely his fault and that it shifted to you as well. Was it a week after you found out? A month? 3 months? 6 months? A year? Did it even matter anymore? You knew you had to stop this. You had to break it off with Akaashi. His unfaithfulness hurt you in a way that you couldn’t possibly imagine. You couldn’t keep living with the fact that he’d come home into your arms, holding you in the same way that he had just held somebody else. Somebody not you. Somebody who wasn’t his girlfriend. Geez, just how many times were you going to repeat that to yourself? You’d lost count on how many speeches and psych up’s that frequented your mind. 

This will be the last time. 

A silent promise to yourself, that this would be the end. That you’d finally pick yourself up, and gain some self confidence to just rip off that bandaid. No matter how much you loved him, no matter how long you had loved him, you had to do this for your sake. With a firm nod, you braced yourself, ready to finally free yourself from the love that was Akaashi Keiji. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It had been a few hours since your breakdown in the bathroom happened. You were anticipating Akaashi’s arrival for the past hour or so. You knew exactly why he was late, it didn’t take a genius to know that he was with her. You wished that just for tonight, he wouldn’t. The suspense was suffocating. You just wanted to get this over and done with.

Not even the soft material of the pillows on the lounge you sat on calmed you. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through the plush texture, hoping to quell the dread and unease steadily rising with each passing moment that Akaashi didn’t enter through the front door. After what felt like forever, you finally heard his car coming into the driveway, the headlights peeking through the blinds. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. It did little to slow your racing heartbeat. You got up to greet him when the jingle of his keys echoed through the silent space that was ‘your home’, as he had put it the first time you entered into the building. Thats all it was to you now. A mix of brick and cement that no longer held the warmth that it once had, or perhaps it still did. Maybe that radiating glow just wasn’t for you anymore. 

“Keiji..”

“Hello my love” he was quick, or you were just too slow. Either way, his arms had found their way around you, pulling you close into his body. You couldn’t deny that your own craved his, fitting just a little too well, like jigsaw puzzle pieces. At one point it was relieving. At one point it would have brought you immense comfort. 

At one point it would have felt right. 

However at this moment in time, it didn’t. Maybe for a split second, you could’ve deluded yourself into thinking he was only yours, and you were only his. That sense of peace was gone in an instant when you smelt the pungent perfume of her on him. It clung to him desperately, and would soon dissipate throughout the house. The sickly sweet floral smell invading whatever little nook and cranny it could. Pushing out the fresh air.

Pushing out you.

It just further pressed the need to end things with him. Neither of you were happy in your relationship now.

For your sake and for his, you needed to do this quickly. 

You pulled away from him, hands on his chest. You had to force yourself to look at his face. It was time, you needed that bandaid off now. But when you searched his profile, you couldn’t see any other emotion but pure admiration.

Pure love.

Your breath hitched. Though it was when his hands made their way up to cup your cheeks that your body lost all rationality. Your heart now pumping quickly and loudly for a completely different reason. He slowly leaned in close and you instinctively closed your eyes. Soon enough, his lips were against yours. Soft you thought to yourself, but you could taste it. The underlying taste of something sweet. It was artificial, and definitely not Akaashi. 

God it hurt. It hurt, unbelievably so. 

His hands moved down and rested on your hips, fingers digging in ever so slightly. You both parted from each other, and this time, you decided to look into his eyes.

Gunmetal Blue.

It perfectly matched his beautiful face, and you knew you could get lost just staring into them. It honestly wasn’t fair how easily everything about him could just draw you in.

But you hated how he looked at you now. Like you held the stars in his sky. Like you were the most important person to him. It could almost make you sick, the gaze he had on you. How could he look at you like this? How could he touch you like that? How could he kiss you with such furore when he was just with somebody else, doing the exact same things that he was doing to you?

It just hurt. You never even got a chance to voice your thoughts on his infidelity, on the other woman, on anything. Because soon enough you found yourself led into the bedroom. Had he made love with that woman on the very bed you shared with him? There’s no way you could fool yourself into thinking that that space was sacred anymore. The sheets, the pillows, the mattress. All of it had been tainted. Much like everything else on this house. Contaminated with her touch when you were away and he had to stay home. Everywhere. Every surface, every room, hell every inch just had a lingering scent of her. 

Disgusting. Filthy. Soiled.

All those thoughts were washed away when Akaashi pulled you into the bed. Clothes now discarded haphazardly on the floor, easily forgotten. He gently brushed stray hairs away from your face and just observed you for a moment. He watched you with a smile, and you could reminisce back on your high school days. How was it that Akaashi Keiji, the sweet, shy and most amazing guy was doing something so horrible behind your back? You couldn’t understand. He was such a gentleman, so respectful and kind. So how? How could he do it so easily. 

He pulled you in, lips connecting once again. You knew it was wrong. To fall back into him would just lead you back into the spiral of pain and heartbreak. And yet, here you were, doing that exact thing. 

Because when he looked at you in that regard, when he touched you in the way that set your body ablaze, when he kissed you with such emotion and love, you could pretend that, just for a short period of time, that it was all just for you and only you. You could forget about the other woman. Could forget about all the thoughts of all the things he’d do with her. Forget the marks that he left on her, the same way he did you. 

You’d think of the consequences later, like you always did, because during these moments was when your heart didn’t ache so much, and you didn’t need to be left with your own intrusive thoughts. Here, like this, right now, you could just be two people together. Pretend that he did love you unconditionally.

Pretend that everything was okay. 

You knew tomorrow you’d regret it. Wake up in his arms and sob about how much of a coward you were to walk away. 

This will be the last time.

How many times had you repeated that phrase only to continue this toxic cycle? It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. You hated Akaashi, but you hated yourself more, because you knew that you’d always lose yourself to him. Like a puppet master with the strings, you were pushed and pulled to his desire. 

You now lay in bed, with the covers over you both, and his hand rubbing a soothing trail up and down your arm. You wondered if this would’ve been a good time to do it. To cut your loses and go.

But..

Akaashi scooted over towards you, his hand now finding its way behind your head. His own now angled to press a delicate kiss on your forehead. You shut your eyes, willing the tears to not show. 

“I love you”

..you could never do it.

With a small, sad smile (hoping that the darkness of the night shielded the pain from him), you whispered the words that contradicted everything you had been feeling.

“I love you too”

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You knew tomorrow you’d go through the same process. You knew you’d feel the same anger, frustration and ache. Knew that you’d put on one of his shirts or hoodies on for any sense of comfort. Knew that you’d cry and get lost in your thoughts. Knew that you’d swear that this was the last time this would ever happen. 

And deep down, you knew that you’d never really do it, because you’d fall right back into loving Akaashi Keiji again, just like all those times before.

[liquid-luck-00]

Connections 10

Chapter 10

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving in Themyscira, they were greeted by Queen Hippolyta and guided them to large hall. Introductions were made and Tikki zipped towards Hippolyta, nuzzling her cheek.

"You are the Ladybug of this generation?" The Amazonian Queen asked the youngest in the room.

"Yes, Ma’am." Marinette answered quickly and slightly panicked in the Queen's presence.

"Your soul is a true creation soul," she began her explanation. "As your soulmate and intended cat is a true destruction soul." As if on cue Damian, in corporeal form, 'crashed' through the ceiling, falling, and landing with a thud.

"Nice entrance Demon spawn." Jason snickered as Damian stood up.

"Tt. When I get my body back Grayson and Drake help me with this.” He demanded, but was actually asked of his brothers. He held up two batons.

“Dick would be better than...” Tim’s voice cut off as Damian merged the two and it expanded into a bo staff. “I stand corrected.”

“The Black Cat is the most offensive Miraculous," Hippolyta continued to explain. "As you've already found the first two, attempt to find the third."

"There are five total," Tikki chimed in. "But you'll need Plagg for the other two and to use your Power." Damian nodded and sat down fiddling with the staff, then batons, then the staff again, while listening to the Amazonian Queen.

"What does this have to do with the Lazarus Pit and bringing Damian back?” was asked by Bruce.

"Everything. Understanding the power that she is and he will, wield explains why there will not be an adverse effect on him." Hippolyta calmly explained. “The Ladybug as you may know uses a yo-yo as the primary weapon, but you also have two collapsed escrima sticks. Your powers include the 'Lucky Charm' and 'Miracle Cure’ used together you can reverse all damage caused as a result of the miraculous, or if any miraculous took part during anytime of the altercation. It is also possible to revive the dead with your power."

"So is it possible for Mari to bring back Damian?" Was asked by a hopeful Dick.

"Unfortunately not. What occurred was a result of the soul bond and the magic embedded into Marinette." A sad knowing look crossed the Queen's features. "This is where the Pits of Lazarus comes into play. As Marinette is the embodiment of creation and luck, as Damian is the embodiment of destruction and misfortune they are the two souls of this generation who can enter its waters without corruption."

"Why?" was chorused by the four eldest Waynes.

"The Pits were created by a wish merging the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous." Tikki now spoke again. "But with such powerful magic it comes with a cost. Pit madness comes when a person has a soul alignment with a miraculous, like Jason. For others it may vary, but for souls like the two of you, as part of Plagg and I, you are immune to the madness only reaping the benefits."

"Why didn't you say this before, Tikki." Tim brought up. "Because I can't see souls like my chosen can and Mari is too young to see them now." the miniature goddess responded.

"Pits as in more than one?" Bruce whispered, as if in deep thought.

"There are half a dozen pits around the world hidden away. Each is guarded by one of the inner kwamii, but that is more of a tidbit than necessary information." the Queen smiled. “Now has that calmed some concerns?"

"Is there a Pit not controlled by the League?" Jason blurted out. Because logically the league couldn't control all of them.

"A few, such as the one here on Paradise Island." Queen Hippolyta answered in turn.

"I can get my body back without the League?" Damian whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

This was the best news they could get. Damian could be revived while not having to struggle with the Pit madness. He wouldn't need to be near the League which means he wouldn't question himself. That he is able to build upon what he has since moving to Gotham without being the Prince of Assassins.

"Yes. Now come little bug, little cat." Marinette and Damian each flanked the Queen as the rest followed behind.

A short trek into the Mountains and they arrived at a pit. The same acidic green with chaos and creation swirled. Damian's body was deposited next to the swirling pool.

"Understand that when you emerge, both of you, will train here in order to strengthen and teach you the magic you will wield." the two children nodded, clear resolve on their features. "Good."

After bringing Damian back from the dead they almost immediately were placed into training. It was true that there was no madness, his mind was intact without being clouded by anger. Their soul bond was a huge benefit. Where Damian caught the physical aspect quickly and it transferred to Mari. While Mari was a natural at magic and helped guide Damian through.

Yes the Amazon’s did not particularly trust men but they could recognize Damian as a Black Cat, which along with his brother’s nickname Demon Spawn, he gained the name Hellcat. That and they could clearly see that Damian was Marinette’s soulmate, but didn’t treat her as a damsel in distress, instead as a partner and equal. Which helped him earn some respect to the warriors around them. Which was how the two spent most of the week before going back.

What they couldn't be prepared for was the tornado named Jagged. As soon as they arrived in the manor he was there in a fury of a whirlwind.

"Hey little Rocker, how was the trip?"

"It was fun." Marinette smiled at her dad.

"So got any pictures to show your papa, love." he asked excitedly.

"Pictures?" she repeated quizzically.

That was when the Wayne’s and Mari began to laugh

"What’s so funny?" The rocker asked confused.

"Apparently we were so caught up in the vacation we didn’t take pictures." Tim grinned, the little liar he is, spoke up. He had pictures but they were mostly of his brothers getting their asses handed to them by the Amazons. And he couldn’t explain how they happened to be on the secret hidden island filled with Amazonian warriors. "Their also was zero service on the island." He finished with a shrug.

"Ohh I did bring back some shells and crystals and some seeds for my garden." Mari chimed in. "I can tell you all about it."

"Yes you can on the plane to wherever you and the bird you choose to come with us." Jagged smiled at his daughter.

"Jared what are you..." Bruce near finished his sentence.

Jagged having interrupted his thoughts he sentence. “Come now Batsey you steal little rocker for a week so I steal one of your birds." He stated as a matter of fact.

Bruce just stood with his jaw slack. Sure Mari told them he figured them out, but he forgot, he had a child to revive goddamn it. “Fine but I think it’ll be a good idea to tell him Mari." He turned to the young girl.

The girl chewed her lip before putting her hand in her light vest shirt. A red pixie bug flew out and sat on Mari’s head.

"Hello I’m Tikki the Ladybug kwamii, Marinette is my chosen holder." Tikki's voice rang through the room.

"I’m sorry what now?" The rocker was eerily still and quiet.

"Long story short your daughter is a magical girl and Demon Spawn is her soulmate and is also a magical girl, boy, you get the idea." Jason chuckled.

"Okay let me get this straight. Mari's soulmate is the Grumpy Gargoyle, they are both magical kids who are chosen by fairies. All of you are Gotham's vigilantes, which I'm assuming you've been training Little Rocker."

"Yes.??” Dick answered unsure.

"Okay."

"Okay." Dick again responded. Before realizing, "Wait! Okay!”

"Ya," Jagged shrugged. "You've all met Mari. This is completely plausible with her. So who are we stealing from Bruce?"

"Dames!" she jumped to hug him from behind, arms wrapped around his neck.

Damian for his part didn't throw Marinette off. In fact he repositioned to piggy back her, a ghost of a smile spread on his neutral features.

"So where are we going?"

Yucatan Peninsula

Why?

The Twins said a gift for future bugs and cats were there.

Haven't their been cats and bugs since them?

Yes but travel was limited.

In other words scavenger hunt.

Yes. How's your Spanish? Because the most logical place to start would be the Mayan ruins.

"Mejor que eI tuyo." she smirked at him.

"God damn it their doing it again." Jason dragged his hands down his face.

"Doing what?"

"Their bond is shockingly rare, its a Mind link sharing knowledge, meaning basically anything one knows so does the other. As if that isn't enough now they can communicate telepathically."

"So why the Spanish rocker?"

"Cancun, Mayan scavenger hunt." she grinned.

"Sounds good. I'll shoot Penny a text and we'll leave tomorrow sound good?"

"Yup." She responded, Damian nodded and finally set her down.

Your helping me pack.

As if I'd let you do it yourself.

Knowing you, you'd pack your Robin uniform.

'Pfft'

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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