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commandershepardvasfuckit · 3 months

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3rd chapter for my own little self indulgent original writing.

Still nothing polished, just first draft stuff to get the ideas out of my head

The first two chapters can be founded in my pinned post, but as another reminder it’s still a depiction of a wildly unbalanced power dynamic, manipulation, and whatnot

But dead dove, do not eat.

Forced consent/dub-con, intentionally harmful sex, and if you’re reading this I’m assuming you’ve read the other chapters and know how the main characters are

The air smelled of fresh foods being cooked and hawked by the local merchants, the market busy as always while you made your way through the narrow twisting roads between the council building and your own home. It was not an exciting or glamorous life, but it was predictable and steady.

Life had not always been easy, but at least now it was pretty good. You had enough money to keep yourself a float and even afford little trinkets and luxuries once in a while. Your clothing was not fancy, but still had little details and embellishments that years ago you would have never thought you could buy. You no longer worried about having enough to eat, it often was nothing fancy but filling and tasty enough.

As you walked down the winding roads you mused on how one short encounter lifted you up from barely scraping by singing in rundown taverns to routinely preforming for the council. Just a chance encounter with staff attendant and an offer to sing in front of the council as they looked for performers for an event.

It had gone better than expected, you preformed at many events and were paid fairly well for your work. There were sometimes long gaps in between work for them, but with your new reputation you found you were now being invited to preform in the much nicer taverns in High Town instead of being relegated to the lower city.

There was a spring in your step, with the money you had gotten today you were fairly certain you had saved enough for a hair piece you had been eyeing. A merchant situated just on the cusp of High Town had started selling beautiful hair sticks the other week. Nothing as ornate as the denizens who lived in High Town would be wearing, no precious stones, but the metals there were shaped so intricately, doted with common but still colorful stones. In particular you had been eyeing one whose long brained stick ended with a flower and a bird spreading its wings in flight. It was not luxurious enough to be real gold, but the craftsman had done an excellent job of mimicking it, and if your math was correct then tomorrow it would be yours.

While lost in your thoughts the walk home felt shorter than usual, a pleasant surreality seemed to cling to everything that you dismissed as just your current happiness making everything else around feel a little soft around the edges. The door to your small home swung open with a gentle touch and you busied yourself setting down your things, humming to yourself and thinking how you would spend you free time tomorrow. First you would head straight to the market to buy the hair stick, then wander and find something to eat, and the trees in the square were in bloom this time of year so maybe after you would take a walk to see them?

Before anything else though you wanted to change into something comfier, you turned from the counter where you had been organizing and putting your belongings away and nearly jumped out of your skin as you noticed the figure seated at your table. In the dim lighting you could not make out many features, only the imposing size and two unnatural gold eyes.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you, my little pet”.

You shot up in bed, gulping down deep breaths of air as you tried to steady your heart rate, cursing under your breath that even in your dreams you had no reprieve.

“What are you doing?” came a groggy voice next to you. His eyes were barely cracked opened and his brow furrowed together in annoyance of being suddenly awoken early in the morning, clearly someone was not a morning person.

“Lay back down, I’m not ready for you yet” he pulled you back down on the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he laid on his side so that your back was to his chest. “You do not have to sleep, but you will remain in bed with me until I decide to get up for the day”.

Revulsion coiled through your body as he ran his fingers down your side, his hand coming to rest just below your hip and his fingers tracing circles on your inner thigh.

“Answer me so I know you heard me”.

“Yes, my king” your voice was small, doing everything you could to quell your nerves and not flinch at his touch.

“And what are you to do?”

“I will lay with you until you get up, my king”.

A low hum of approval from his vibrated against your back, “Good girl. And see? This isn’t so bad. You slept peacefully in my arms all night, even nuzzling into my neck a few times while you slept. Deep down you enjoy this, don’t you? Being desired like this. You don’t have to say anything, I know you like this, you just need to embrace it”.

His other hand closed around your neck, not enough pressure to restrict your breathing or harm you, but a message all the same. “All mine to be used and played with. No worries or concerns in that pretty little head, just your devotion and desire for me”.

“I feel you squirming now, is it because you know I’m right? Because you, just a little mortal human, have been elevated to such a lofty position? That you, and you alone, sleep with your king? Surely that must feel good, to be chosen like that”.

Firmly, he pulled your hips back against him, “But on second thought, maybe I don’t want to go back to sleep quite yet now after all, why waste this time to bond if you’re already awake? Especially with how good you feel against me like this” his hand slipped lower, between your thighs, “Let me show you how good I can make you feel. Let me toy with you until you beg me to fuck you”.

With warm, deft hands his thumb found your clit and you shuddered. It was a horrid, involuntary response that only seemed to spur him on. He settled into a steady rhythm, using a gentle pressure on you to rub circles.

Your breath hitched and you hated how good it felt, how he clearly knew what he was doing. His other hand left your throat to wander down and cup your breast, alternating squeezing it and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

A moan left your lips, you could not help it.

“That’s it, my little song bird. There’s so much I can offer you; pleasure, safety, a comfortable life. Now that you’ve accepted this you could be so happy at my side if you fully embrace it. You could be the center of attention, sitting on my lap in front of everyone, constantly doted on and being the only one to receive my attention”.

‘What’s the harm of just letting go?’ echoed a small voice in you mind, a voice you wanted to squash down. ‘It would be so easy to just surrender fully. Is there really another option?’ There was not much of a choice, either play your role or at best it was likely imprisonment, at worse? You did not want to think of it.

Maybe someone stronger would have resisted, or someone with more pride. Someone who would rather embrace their possible death than be treated like this.

But that was not you. The thought of death or imprisonment terrified you, even more so than submitting to the Dragon King did.

With deep breaths you willed some of the tension you were carrying away, unclenching your jaw and shoulders and drumming up the courage to fully take the plunge. Before you could talk yourself out of it you rolled onto your back and parted your legs a bit, giving him the access to you he sought.

“Oh!” his face lit up in genuine surprise, “I was not expecting you to relax so quickly, I- I-“ he drew a deep breath to compose himself, “I want you to enjoy this, to enjoy me. I do truly mean that”.

It was difficult to read his expression, his eyes inscrutable as ever, but what you thought you might have saw was a certain softness. Not the bravado of the past day, or cocky confidence, but an almost human sort of tenderness if he was even capable of such a thing.

Here now, resting in the bed of a king, after the most harrowing ordeal of your life, a new chapter began.

The following kiss was hungry against your mouth. He quickly parted your lips with his tongue and wasted no time exploring every inch he could.

A finger slid between your folds, teasing at your entrance while he continued his steady attention on your clit.

“So wet already” he murmured into your mouth, barely breaking the kiss.

He entered you agonizingly slowly with a single finger, taking his time and drawing out your reaction.

Being with someone was nothing new to you, but everything now was a strange new experience. The softness of the blankets under your bare skin, the opulence of your surroundings, and the very nature of the man you were laying with were all coming together to form a strange new experience for something normally so familiar.

“Ohhh” you moaned into his mouth as his finger stroked a particularly sensitive spot in you.

“There you go, my little song bird, sing for me”. He slid a second finger into you and slowly began to work you open, gently spreading his two fingers apart, preparing you to take him.

Unsure what to do with your hands you balled them into the blankets. With anyone else you would have wrapped your fingers into their hair or clung to their body, but something about that did not feel right here. Your squirmed under his careful touch. He maintained a slow and steady pace, focusing on precise and careful movements over anything else. You rolled your hips up against his hand, seeking more friction as you felt your release building.

“Are you close already?” he asked.

“Yes” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Yes, my king”.

“Good” he swiftly removed his hand from you.

“What-“ you began before he cut you off.

“I do not want your first time with me to be on my hand, come here” he rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, your legs straddling his hips and his cock resting just between your thighs. “I want to see your face while you realize I’m better than any partner you’ve ever had, that moment of bliss when you truly understand how good it feels to be fucked by you king. Despite your actions I know part of you still resists me, don’t think I haven’t noticed, and I want to see the moment that last little bit of defiance finally snaps and you give in to me entirely”.

Your face was white hot, it was one thing when your back was to him and you did not have to see how he looked at you, but this was too much. Having to play an active part in his conquest instead of laying back and just letting it happen was more than you could stand.

“What is with that face, my pet? Is this not a generous offer? I am giving you a very rare gift, letting you decided how long this will last. You can drag this out as long as you want, or not. I won’t even hold you responsible for my pleasure, no, I just want you to enjoy yourself upon your king’s cock this time”.

“And then,” his voice dropped to a growl, “I will claim you as I see fit. My pretty little pet will know the joy, the honor, of satisfying me and being made mine”.

You stared at him, frozen, just wanting to get things over with but unable to start. Hesitantly you rose up on your knees to position yourself and tried to look anywhere but at his face. You reached down to guide him in as you lowered yourself onto him, his tip pressed against your entrance for just a moment while you gathered yourself before sinking down and accepting his first few inches.

Nothing could have prepared you for this. You knew he was much more than you were used to, even when you tried to look away last night when you undressed him you still got a good glance at him, more than enough to know that it would be a struggle.

Your whole body heaved from the intrusion, forcing you to brace your hands against his chest. He was stretching you much more than you had ever felt before, nearly equal parts pleasure and pain as you struggled to adjust to him.

“Gods, you’re still so fucking tight” he moaned, “You were so ready to finish with just two fingers, will you even be able to take it all before you cum?”

You did your best to block his words out, only focusing on remembering how to breathe. It felt incredible though, hurting in a good way as he forced you open.

His fingers returned to your clit, rubbing the same gentle circles as before, “Let me help you relax, I want to watch you sink down and take it all and hear all those pretty little mewls you’ll make. Wouldn’t it feel so good to test your limits like that?”

Slowly you took another few inches until you felt his tip press into your cervix, it was as far as you could go. You were nearly gasping for air, between how deep you felt him in you and how much he was stretching you. Such an intensity you did not know was possible.

“You look so beautiful like that, so overwhelmed and helpless, trying to be such a good girl for me, but I know you can keep going. You don’t want to stop here, not when there’s only a few inches left, do you?” he cooed at you, though it sounded like he was struggling to maintain his composure too.

“I can’t” you pleaded with him.

“Shhhhhh, just try for me”.

Slowly you attempted to lower yourself farther, his tip jabbed into you more, going past the level of pleasurable pain.

“Almost there little one. I know it must hurt, but you’re so close” his free hand dug into you hip, slowly pushing you down on him, not giving you an option.

“See? Look what you’re capable of, you’re such a good little thing to let me bury myself in you like this”.

“It hurts” your eyes watered, tears threatening to roll down your face, but his grip on your hip did not loosen.

“I’m sure it does, but let me show you how good you can feel like this anyways”. He rolled his hips against you, pressing himself in as far as possible before pulling back to give you a bit of reprieve, though his cock stayed pressed against your cervix the whole time, fluctuating between a bearable pain and a near blinding pain. His pace and pressure on your clit increased, making you feel overstimulated and every touch sent lightning racing through your nerves.

“Just focus on the good, how my fingers feel on your clit, how it it feels to be stretched around me. It’s all the same feelings you mewled over before, I’ve just added one other thing, just block it out. I feel that you’re close, the way you clench around me. Let go and enjoy this”.

“You said you’d be gentle” you managed, trying to hold back tears.

“Oh my sweet, this is very gentle. I used my fingers to warm you up, let you go at your own pace until you needed a little help, I’ve been oh so softly rubbing your clit this whole time. And now you’re so close to your end, and here I am still helping you finish before me”.

The pleasure was starting to drown out the pain. The pain was not receding but instead your own building release was growing louder in your mind and between your legs, making the feeling of him so deep inside you easier to ignore.

“I don’t often care about others’ pleasure, but for you? I want to see how beautiful you look finding your release on my cock, the sweet sounds you’ll make, but your pleasure still comes on my terms. I want you to understand that I can give you great pleasures here at my side: beautiful clothes and jewels, exquisite foods, any hobby you’ve ever wished to learn, anything you want, as you always obey me. There will not be one without the other” his words came between ragged breaths, he was coming undone just as fast as you it seemed.

His words were only barely reaching you, you were so close to bliss you could not focus on anything else.

“I-I, ohhh” you moaned the waves of your orgasm hit you hard. You heaved forwards, leaning onto his chest more until you were flush against him, gasping and sighing as he continued to rub your overstimulated clit, drawing out your pleasure farther.

Even after the initial rush started to fade you still felt yourself clenching around him, tingles still diffusing throughout your body as he wrapped his arms around your middle to hold you against him and thrust into you.

“Gods, you feel incredible. I need to feel your lips on mine, I need to feel all of you”.

You caught his mouth in a desperate kiss and you were leaning into the kiss and desiring him as much as he desired you. He moaned in your mouth, panting, struggling to even kiss you back as he got lost in his own pleasure.

For the first time in the last day you felt power. How lost in everything he was now, how he was scarcely aware of anything else, how now in your clarity you saw him at his weakest. The mighty Dragon King, not claiming you in some powerful, dominant way, but asking for a kiss and holding you closely, face to face, almost on equal footing if only for a moment.

It was not some mighty roar, or even anything loud, his moans were soft and getting caught in his throat. You felt the warmth flood into you as he found his own release, his cock twitching with each spurt and you felt his cum dripping down your thighs even with how tightly plugged you felt by him.

“I-“ he began, struggling and panting for air, “I was not expecting that”.

There was something borderline sweet about his expression, it was the first time you saw him not entirely in control of the moment, the first time he just seemed relaxed.

You nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent and feeling his pulse on your lips as you kissed up and down from his ear to shoulder. Maybe it was just the afterglow from your orgasm, but you were enjoying the way he was softly stroking your back, just the feeling of staying entwined after sex, enjoying his touch for the first time.

“I didn’t expect that” he repeated.

“Didn’t expect what?” you asked.

“Getting caught up in everything so much. I couldn’t bring myself to pause for even a moment to move you into a position that’s a bit more, uh… natural for me”.

“Natural?”

“Yes. Natural. Do not forget that this isn’t really me, not completely anyways. What I had intended was to flip you over, yank your hips up in the air, and take you on your hands and knees, or at least bend you over the table, something a bit more familiar for me”.

It dawned on you what he meant, a position better suited for dragons.

“No matter,” he waved his hand dismissively, “there will be countless other times to fuck you in a manner more appropriate for myself”.

Whatever softness he had shown you for a moment while you laid together was already gone, he was back to himself.

“You will accompany me for breakfast, then around the palace grounds so that I may show you around your new home, and also show you off”.

You nodded against his neck, too tired and sore to continue speaking, especially as he was back to himself and the less conversation with him the better in that case.

“You will use your words and manners to answer me. I was willing to let it slide earlier since you were clearly overwhelmed. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect a sweet, simple little thing like you possibly think straight after being fucked like that, your thoughts all scrambled up in that pretty little head of yours”.

“Yes, my king” you replied, any bit of quasi-affection you may have felt towards him gone.

“As my tailor has still not dropped off anything for you to wear, you’ll wear one of my shirts for now, it should be long enough you” he shifted you off his chest so he could get up.

As usual he moved with unnaturally light footsteps, crossing the room in a few long, quiet strides to retrieve a shirt for you and toss it your way.

“Get dressed quickly, there is much to do today. And no need to clean up”.

The material of the shirt felt like water on your hands, soft and flowing, much nicer anything you had certainly ever worn. It came down to your mid thighs, long enough to cover you but not well if you moved much.

His eyes never left you as you dressed, his head tilted slightly as he watched you fumble with the buttons.

“I will say,” he began, “seeing you in my shirt, in my bed, with my cum still dripping down your thighs, still all flush is most definitely doing a lot for me. Makes me want to fuck you again right now, though I do suppose you’ve earned a treat with how good you were for me. We’ll have a nice breakfast together and spend the morning, just the two of us, touring my palace. How does that sound, my pet?”

“Very good, my king”.

“Come, help me dress” he beckoned.

Your thighs ached from how long you straddled him, and deep in your core you were tense and tender feeling from him. You swung your legs of the bed, unfortunately for you they gave out immediately as you tried to stand, toppling you onto the floor.

“Ok” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression somewhere between pained and annoyed. “You have the muscle tone and stamina of a noodle, great. Can you stand at all?”

You forced your legs under you, grappling at the bed post for support so you would not fall again.

“Fantastic, I suppose you won’t be walking to breakfast then” he turned from you and began to dress, dark pants and a dark shirt, the v-shape of the collar loosely laced closed.

Without a word he returned to where you attempted to stand and swept you up into his arms, “We will work on your stamina and muscle strength, you may be my little pet but I will not be carrying you all the time”.

You squirmed in his arms, trying to yank the shirt down to cover your rear as it rode up.

“That doesn’t matter” he said flatly, “the whole court saw you naked yesterday anyway. And half the royal guard was there when Alondis stripped you down, though don’t hold that personally against him. If anything you should honestly thank him, I ordered him to bring you to me naked but he’s got a soft heart and gave you his cloak”.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in your perplexed look. Truth be told, you had blocked out almost everything yesterday between being escorted from the carriage to right before you reached the throne room.

“You really don’t remember, do you? You did look quite terrified when you stood before me, no room for other thoughts, hmm? I’m am not surprised you don’t remember his face either. No matter”.

You buried your face in his chest as he carried you out of the room, not wanting to meet eyes with anyone you pass in your way down to eat. You did not want to think how many people in this palace had seen you naked.

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typingatlightspeed · 8 months

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TF2 Fanfic -Approval Chapter 2 (FINAL)

After a lot of well-needed sleep, Demoman and Sniper switch which parent they spend the day with, Sniper being asked out to tend the sheep with Jonathan. It leads to some closure and common ground, particularly on the topic of Demoman.

Martha, meanwhile, is delighted by all of this werwolf business and wants to know more. After all, not often you meet a werewolf, let alone one who has a magic charm that lets him transform at will!

Part of Monstrous Intent!

Ao3 Link!

No porn this chapter; all silly shit and feels. With a particularly cute ending. Happy birthday, TF2, and happy 50th MI fic! :D

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Three sharp raps on the door startled Demoman and Sniper out of their slumber.

"Oi, Michael! Tavish! Brekkie's on!" came Jonathan's voice from the other side, followed by the sound of his footsteps moving away down the hall. He hadn't bothered to wait for a response.

Demoman half-snored a deep breath and stretched, bowing his back up as best he could with Sniper half-thrown over him and clinging like a koala. "Oi, Dee, didnae ya hear yer da?"

Burying his face in Demoman's chest, Sniper only clung tighter. "Brekkie can wait. Boyfriend comfy," he grunted, threading his legs around one of the bomber's.

"Fiance comfy," Demoman corrected with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of Sniper's head. His hair stuck up at all angles, completely rumpled from sleep. "But brekkie tasty."

"Fiance tasty too," Sniper challenged, biting his lover's nipple with an exaggerated chomping sound.

"Oi!"

When Sniper and Demoman arrived in the kitchen, Jonathan smirked. His son had never been a morning person, and that had clearly not changed, based on how he was squinting in the morning light. At least he'd gotten properly dressed and not trundled down the hall in his pajamas, as had been his custom as a teenager. It was almost night and day, the difference between him and his beau at his side, who was smiling and brimming with energy, even before his morning cuppa.

"Coffee, Mickey?" Martha asked, chuckling when he responded with a grateful grunt and slid into his seat.

"Me as well, Mum," Demoman added with a grateful nod.

"Jonathan, a second for you?" she asked.

"Reckon."

"A round for the table, then."

"Bless ye, Mum."

Coffee was poured, and Martha began dishing up breakfast. "Did you boys sleep alright?"

For just a bare moment, Sniper was struck with the horrific thought that they had, indeed, been heard last night.

"Och, aye," Demoman said, taking a whiff of the coffee in his mug. "All that travel, plus the jet lag? Slept like a wee bairn. Nae slept that hard outside a long night's drinkin' in years."

Sniper was quick to join, "That sort of blackout sleep where you don't know where you are or what year it is when you wake up."

"Aye, precisely."

"So that's what I 'eard," Jonathan mused, making Sniper's blood run cold. "Which one's the snorer, then?"

Snoring. Oh.

Sniper heaved a breath, perhaps a bit louder than he meant to, and Martha chuckled.

"So it's Tavish, then?"

Demoman shot an amused look to Sniper. "Aye, it's me. I dinnae do it much, 'least that's what this one tells me. Unless the aforementioned drinkin's involved. Or, apparently, copious amounts o' jet lag. Hope I wasnae a bother."

"No worries. Noticed it on the way to the loo last night is all."

Once breakfast was served, quiet fell over the table as they ate. When they were finished, everyone sat back to enjoy the next round of coffee.

"Amazin' brekkie, Mum," Sniper said against the brim of his mug between sips.

"Sure looked it, the way you were boggin' into it," Jonathan remarked with a smirk. "I see you've still not learned 'ow not to eat like you've been starved your whole life."

"That's nae a recent thing?" Demoman asked, dodging back in his seat a bit just in case Sniper could stare daggers.

"Mickey was always in a rush to eat and get back outside, do more explorin'," Martha clarified warmly. "Or back to chores or the pasture, once 'e was old enough to help with the farm."

"Mickey, remember the time ye challenged Scout tae that pancake eatin' contest?" Demoman asked, elbowing his lover once he set his mug down.

"Woulda won were it not for 'is big mouth," Sniper chuckled. "And bottomless stomach."

"As if you weren't a yawnin' chasm when you were comin' up," Martha teased. "Ate us outta bloody house and 'ome! Was almost a relief when you struck out on your own! Strewth, it reduced the trips I had to take down the shops in 'alf!"

"Alright, alright, crikey," Sniper grumbled, a small smirk peeking through as Martha giggled in reply.

"So what've you got planned today, anyway?"

"Nothin' specific, like."

"Good. Come out and 'elp me with the sheep today, Michael," Jonathan said, clearly not asking.

Sniper and Martha shared a look, but Sniper nodded, a nervous pit beginning to open back up in his stomach. "Reckon."

"After you finish up, meet me outside. I'll be gettin' the rest of me mornin' chores done." With that, Jonathan rose from his seat and placed his empty plate and silverware in the sink, and downed the rest of his coffee. He headed back over and gave Martha a kiss. "Thanks, love."

"'Course, dear," she cooed in response, waving as he walked out the door. Turning back to Sniper, she regarded him warmly. "Don't worry, Mickey. You know 'e's always a bit grumpier first thing in the mornin'."

"Still, best not keep 'im waitin'."

"Tavish, would you like to 'elp me 'round the house? I get the feelin' that was an invitation just for Mickey."

"Gladly, Mum," Demoman confirmed, throwing his arm around Sniper's shoulder and giving him a half-hug. He tilted in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Ye'll be fine, Dee."

Sniper leaned into him for a moment, savoring the gentleness. He reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder. "Thanks." He pointedly ignored the soft coo his mother let out at the show of affection.

When Sniper met up with Jonathan, the sheep were already out of the barn, meandering around the holding pen and bleating idly. Jonathan himself was finishing laying down fresh bedding, and set his pitchfork against the wall, clapping his hands clean. His rifle was slung across his back, and he nodded to Sniper, seeing he was wearing his own.

"She's a bit big."

"Needs a bit more oomph for the range I work at usually."

"Mm." Jonathan whistled for the dogs, who came to heel, ready to work. He opened the pen and merely gestured to the exit, giving the dogs a nod. They quickly rounded the flock up and urged them through and out into the field, driving them out a ways to find a good grazing spot. Jonathan and Sniper walked behind them, keeping an eye on the dogs' movements.

It was a ten minute walk before Jonathan called, "Come by," letting the dogs circle the flock and rein them in a bit. "That'll do," brought the dogs to him, where he gave each a scratch and left them to their devices, watching the flock and having a good sniff of their surroundings.

Both men settled in to watch the flock, the warm autumn sun climbing the sky slowly, reminding Sniper of how much he hated the way his dad would pasture the sheep.

When he drove them, he'd lead them around the property, up little hills and into little valleys and nooks and crannies, through the small copses of trees and through dry creek beds. It was as much exploring as it was catching a bite to eat, enriching both Sniper and the sheep as they explored their surroundings. They'd stop, the sheep would graze, and after a little bit, they'd be moving again. But what was when the herd was big, and they needed to move around more, lest they overgraze one spot. Now, there were nearly only a quarter of the sheep they once raised, so camping in a patch wasn't as deleterious as it once would have been.

And it wasn't like Jonathan was young, spry Mick Mundy in his teens. He was an old man, getting older by the year, and it wouldn't be long before driving the sheep at all became too much bother. Before the barn chores and the shearing was too much for his back and his weathered hands to commit to any longer.

That thought tugged at Sniper as he regarded his father, catching casual glances and trying not to stare. His parents had had him late into their adulthood, and he was always keenly aware that he might not even have any grey hair by the time he'd have to bury them. It had never been a comforting thought, but it was at least one he could push away. At least until now, looking at the spots of sun-damage on his father's face, at the way his gnarled hands gripped the strap that held his rifle around his back, at the way his lips pursed in on themselves even in a neutral position, and the way his cheeks had sunken in. His parents were old, and he didn't much enjoy that thought.

It made him think of Lady DeGroot, that spitfire all bent and silver-haired. She was older too, older than one expected for a woman with a son in his thirties. The DeGroots must have had Tavish late into their adulthood as well. It was something they had in common, Sniper supposed, and it actually soothed him a bit. At least he wasn't alone in it. Demoman understood, surely, and probably had his own uncomfortable reality to sit with on the topic.

Though, really, he couldn't imagine Lady DeGroot going gentle into that good night anytime soon. Or at all, really. She'd probably fist-fight the Grim Reaper if he showed up at her door, get a few good shots in with her cane out of sheer spite.

Then: motion.

Sniper caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He didn't think, just snatched his rifle, brought it to bear, and once he registered the shape of it, he fired. Out along the tree line, a good fifty meters away, a spray of blood filled the air, and the shape fell, dead.

"What the hell was that?" Jonathan shouted, clutching at his chest.

"Dingo," Sniper replied, checking his scope to be sure. "Don't see any others, so they probably scattered."

Jonathan goggled, jawing at the air, in shock. "Holey dooley, you saw it that far out? I've never seen a man draw a bead that fast!"

Sniper shrugged, lowering his rifle and looking over at his dad, a rush a pride washing through him at the utter astonishment on the old man's face. "Nah, yeh. Contract I'm on's a battlefield. You get good at snapfirin' if you wanna keep alive."

Jonathan's expression melted slowly into wonder, as he beheld his son, his baby boy, standing there holding a sniper rifle, the thing practically an extension of his body for how he handled it. It sunk in very suddenly, very painfully, that no boy stood beside him. His Michael was a man, battle-hardened and deeply capable, and he was being forced to reconcile the two. "Tavish mentioned that, yesterday," he ventured. "Your contract."

Lifting an eyebrow, Sniper turned to face him properly, slinging his rifle back across his back. He'd figured once the surprise wore off, he'd be called a killer, a murderer, any number of things. "Can't talk about it much. Non-disclosure agreements. A lot of it's classified. But yeah, it's sort of a... small, private war, almost. What little sense that makes. Me designation's Sniper, but if you wanna get technical, I'm used more as a sharpshooter. Too much goin' on all the time, not nearly the sort of range you'd expect for proper snipin'. Gotta keep on the move too much."

It sounded deeply dangerous, and Jonathan frowned. "And you make shots like that? All the time?"

"Not my preferred way. Rather take my time, pick me shots, stay in cover. But sometimes, you do what you have to. Keeps things fresh," he chuckled, confidence rushing into him as he saw his father hit the back foot for the first time in a conversation about his career. "Especially when I've got to cover Tav when 'e sets up traps, the madman. Have an eye in each direction, and somehow spare one for the scope."

"Crikey."

"Yeh, nah, it's a good job, all told. Out of doors, steady hours, great team. Money's bonzer, at that. So long as you don't mind shootin' blokes. They're tryin' to shoot me, so fair game, yeh?

Jonathan regarded his son, the way he stood, the way he smiled when he talked. He looked more confident than he'd ever seen him, more mature. It was clear in the way he held himself that he took immense pride in his work. "Shootin' blokes, though. Tav said you're not killin' anymore."

"Yeh?"

"Said you put 'em down, but not in the grave."

Sniper nodded. That was a fair way of talking around the existence of Respawn without ending up in a shallow ditch dug by Miss Pauling. "Basically, yeh. Like I said, non-disclosure agreements and all, so I can't go into too much detail, but I'm not killin' men left and right every day, if that's what you think I do."

"Suppose I'd assumed," Jonathan mused, out of his element. "Guess I don't know 'ow it all works."

That had nearly knocked Sniper off of his feet. Rare was the moment his father admitted to not knowing something. He took a breath and savored it just a bit. "I can explain, if you want. Not the current contract, like I said. But snipin' in general. I'm a professional, Dad. I've got standards to 'ow I go about things. I'm an assassin, not some two-bit hitman."

"Reckon."

"Right, the dough should be chilled enough by now; let's get 'er out."

Martha withdrew a slab of dough wrapped in cling film from the refrigerator, and set it on the counter where Demoman stood, wearing one of her aprons. He was already flouring the surface, and had her rolling pin in hand. She stepped back to let him work his magic.

Demoman unwrapped the dough and set to rolling it out, smiling contentedly.

"You've got it down to a science," Martha mused, watching the efficiency with which he worked.

"Me mum's gettin' on on years, nae so strong as she used tae be, so I've got the job o' rollin' out the dough these days," Demoman explained. "I can eyeball the thickness, besides. We used tae have a special pin for her with rings on the ends tae keep the pin a certain height above the board, and the size carved in so she could feel 'em out. She's blind, y'see."

"That's a clever solution," Martha said. "Sorry to hear about her, though."

"Och, it's nae danger. She's been blind for decades. Common family problem, really. Me da, too. Fact that I made it past thirty with an eye in me heid makes me an outlier in Clan DeGroot, if ye'd believe it."

Martha wasn't exactly sure what to do with that information. He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was just a part of life. She supposed that for him, it just was. As he grabbed a knife and began to cut the dough into slices, she prepared a baking sheet for him. "So speakin' of your family... do they know about you? About the whole…" "Bein' bisexual? Och, aye, Mum loves Mickey. He stayed with us over Smissmas. The two of them are a right terror teamin' up takin' the piss outta me," he chuckled.

"That's lovely, but no, I mean the whole..." she hummed, trying to figure out a way to be delicate, "werewolf thing," she failed.

Demoman's soft laughter faded into a snicker. She'd whispered it like they were in polite company and she'd just told him his fly was down, bless her. "Aye, since before I was born, in fact," he said, using the knife to wedge up the strips of dough and place them on the cookie sheet. "Mum and Da both have it. Or had it, in Da's case. He was the one gave it tae her. I've had it since birth, though I didnae really learn the whys and hows until I was older." He decided not to explain the complicated way the DeGroots reared (or didn't) their children. "Another thing that runs in DeGroot veins, ye ken. Part o' the reason we were never in contention for the throne even when Scotland was free. We've rank, but nae sought it out. Hard tae rule a country when yer indisposed every twenty-eight days turnin' into a great ball o' fluff and mayhem."

"Mayhem?"

"Aye, it's nae a calm thing. All sorts o' instincts and more energy than ye've had in yer entire life all at once, just dyin' tae spend out on everything all at once. The wolf's nae a second consciousness, but it's a wash o' needs and inputs, all yer senses magnified, everythin's just so much. Feels like it's seepin' intae the creases o' yer brain and puttin' a fog over yer mind. Drives ye mad if yer nae careful."

"That sounds terrible!"

"It can be, especially when yer nae prepared for it. But if ye ken what's goin' on and can take precautions, it's tolerable. Make sure ye have a big meal ready tae eat the moment ye turn, for instance. Burns a lot o' calories just makin' the shift alone. Keep away from folk if ye can avoid it, just in case. Say clear o' livestock." He chuckled a little at that. "Make sure yer nae wearin' clothes ye like, as they'll be shreds soon enough."

"Does Mickey hide from you, then?" It certainly hadn't sounded like it the way he phrased things the day before.

"Nae, he's usually there tae help me through it. Usually hunts up a big meal for me tae snap up once I've gone wolf, comes up with ways tae spend out me energy. Hides sometimes, but so I can sniff him out and find him. Keeps me busy so I'm nae gettin' tae mischief, ye ken." Nevermind what he usually did to Sniper once he found him, of course. The man's mother didn't need to know that.

"At least it's only on full moons, then. You only need to figure it out for one night."

"Aye, though last month I got a lovely wee gift from our medic." Demoman pulled his periapt of hybrid form out from under his shirt, letting the cameo lay atop. "This is a magic bauble, lets me transform whenever I want, but only for a few hours a week."

Martha leaned in to inspect the cameo closely, marveling at the detailed carving. "It's lovely."

"Thank ye, Mum."

"But why would you willingly transform? It sounds like you're barely in control of yourself."

"That's the odd thing. When I use this, I dinnae have all that energy, the barely-controlled wolf brain cloudin' me thoughts. I've got the instincts, but I can push 'em back, like ignorin' havin' tae wee when ye've just got on the road for a long drive."

"At my age you don't get to ignore that as much anymore," Martha teased.

"Fair enough," Demoman chuckled. He set about poking holes in the dough strips with a fork. "But aye, I'm in control when I use this, which is a fair bit interestin'. I keep it on hand in case o' emergency. Say I'm nae armed when I might need tae be, or some such thing."

"That come up often?"

"Nae much, and I hope that trend continues." Demoman set the fork aside and clapped his hands. "Right, this goes in the oven then, maybe twenty minutes. We start checkin' 'em then. Once they're just golden 'round the corners, they come out, and we've a lovely tray o' shortbread."

Martha popped the pan in the oven and set a timer. "So you can use that anytime?"

"Aye, in one hour intervals."

Martha pursed her lips a moment working up the courage to ask, "May I see it? Your werewolf self, I mean."

Demoman smiled softly. The curiosity that lit up her eyes was terribly endearing. "Technically I'm always a werewolf. But aye, ye mean me hybrid form."

"That, yeh."

Demoman shrugged. "Let's wait for these shorbreads tae come out, and sure. But, er, I'm keepin' hold of the apron. Rather nae shred all me clothes while I'm on holiday."

"...and that job was the one that ultimately got me scouted for me current contract," Sniper finished.

"That fuckin' hoon dobbed on you and still you got a job out of it?"

"Mad 'ow it works like that, innit?"

"Crikey," Jonathan mused. "And your current contract. You like it well enough?"

"Love it, if I'm honest. It's nice to 'ave steady work and a place to kip and stretch me legs. All the amenities, just enough freedom to come and go, so long as I report where I'm needed on time and do me job. I do less travelin' but we get decent enough furloughs that we don't go stir-crazy. Plus, me 'andler sets me up with side jobs if I'm open for 'em. Or she really needs 'em done." Sniper chuckled a bit and shrugged. "And, you know, I met Tav."

"'e said you get on well with your whole team," Jonathan said. "Not just the one you're rootin'."

Sniper winced a little at his own father saying that, but couldn't help but laugh, doubly so considering how many members of the team he had rooted. "Nah, yeh, we get on aces. Bunch of good blokes, the lot of 'em. Especially Scout. Was me first mate on base, and we're thick as thieves. Only gets me in trouble sometimes, the yabberin' gremlin."

"If you've not changed too much I've a feelin' you get yourself in trouble enough for the two of you," Jonathan teased, cutting to the bone with ease.

Sniper grinned sheepishly. "No idea what you're on about."

"I'm only 'alf-kiddin', Michael. You've changed. Come out of your shell. Sounds like—and I can't believe I'm sayin' this—they've been good for you."

That brought a warm smile to Sniper's lips. He nodded. "Yeh. They are. They're like family at this point."

Jonathan smiled in reply. "Speakin' of family, Tavish mentioned somethin' else to me yesterday."

"What's that?"

"Said 'e asked you to marry 'im."

Sniper's eyes shot open in surprise. Demoman had mentioned that?!

"Said you told 'im, 'not yet.' That you wanted 'im to meet us first." Jonathan shook his head ruefully and rested his fists on his hips. "You absolute drongo; what the 'ell is wrong with you makin' a good man like 'im wait?"

Sniper jawed at the air in surprise. "I—I—"

"That bloke's likely to wait 'til the end of the world if you asked, and 'e shouldn't be bloody well asked to! You know 'e asked me for your 'and yesterday?"

"He what?!"

"Old-fashioned like, said, 'I'd like permission to marry your son.' Although I could tell no matter the answer, 'e was determined to do it regardless. But 'e said 'ow much me and my opinion mattered to you. Which was one hell of a surprise, I'll 'ave you know."

"Of course your opinion means a lot to me; you're my dad. We might not always understand each other or agree on things, but you've never not shown me love. Hell, that's probably why we chafe on so many things." He adjusted his hat, tugging it down, feeling so deeply awkward speaking so honestly. "I just—I wanted to show you that I'm doin' well. That me choices are me own, and've led me to good things. That I'm happy. And I can't think of a better example of that than Tav."

"Happy," Jonathan sniffed. He didn't meet Sniper's gaze, looking off at some distant point. "You know, that's all I've ever really wanted for you, Michael." He took a breath, and turned to face his son, looking him dead in the eye. "But if 'e makes you so happy, you'd bloody well better marry Tavish, or I'll kick your arse."

Sniper snickered. "Tav really impressed you, didn't 'e? You sound like you'd marry 'im yourself, given the chance."

"Nah," Jonathan dismissed, waving a hand at him. "Looker like 'im wouldn't want an old maid like me." He snorted a laugh as he tried to finish his sentence, and Sniper joined him in laughter, the two of them breaking down into ignoble chortling.

Demoman peeked his head out of the bedroom, a bit nervous for what someone would think if they saw him. He was naked save for Martha's apron covering him chest to mid-thigh, but only his front. His ass hung out in the breeze, and it made him feel terribly vulnerable. His brain screamed that this was absolutely inappropriate, what with the fact that Sniper's mother was waiting outside the door for him, a placid smile on her face. How in the nine hells would he explain it if Jonathan walked in?

It was something entirely innocent, but it sure didn't look that way.

He sidled out the door, facing forward the whole time, and smiled nervously to Martha.

She smiled back, doing her best not to stare, but it was very difficult when a very handsome man was standing in her hallway wearing nothing but an apron, like some pinup model. Her Mickey was a very lucky bloke.

Demoman realized how vulnerable he felt, standing there nearly naked, but even more so that he wasn't wearing his eye patch, his empty socket closed. It wasn't something he let people see often outside of the lads in the showers. "Right, that's me then. Goin' tae—goin' tae transform, now." He took hold of the cameo. "Ah, just so ye ken, I cannae speak when I'm the wolf. Throat isnae shaped right for that anymore."

"Oh! Do you sign?"

"Probably should learn, if I'm honest. Nae. Me and Mickey usually just use gestures. Well, he talks. I gesture," he explained, stumbling over his words a bit with nerves. He retied the apron as loose as possible, so he wouldn't rip the straps. "Here goes. It's a bit unpleasant tae watch, so, a warnin', I suppose."

He closed his eyes and braced himself, mentally activating the cameo. With no real to-do about it, the change began. It happened quickly, bones shifting and elongating and shrinking, realigning in different shapes as flesh stretched and squashed to accommodate it. Fur sprung from his skin in a sudden burst, thick, shaggy, and black, pushing out of every follicle and more and more as they were created. His face pushed out into a muzzle as his spine extended into a tail, and moments later it was done, and he stood there, almost a full foot taller and panting with the strain. His eye, once a dark, dazzling brown, was now a bright gold, and soft motes of blue-green light seeped out from his empty socket like steam escaping the tilted lid of a boiling pot.

Demoman let out a long, pained breath as the transformation finished. It was less painful than under the light of the moon, but nothing was ever comfortable about it, either. He blinked a few times, then looked down at Martha, whose eyes were wide as saucers. Childlike curiosity consumed her features as she gazed up at him in wonder, and he idly entertained the thought that like son, like mother.

Hopefully not exactly like her son.

"Tavish, you're enormous!" Martha said, near breathless in awe. "Are you okay?"

Demoman nodded, his muzzle falling open in a lupine approximation of a smile. She smiled along with him, and he stooped down so that he was eye-level with her, having to brace himself on all fours for the small woman. She reached haltingly forward and laid her hand atop his head, feeling how thick his fur was. Soon enough, she was scratching at him like a dog, working behind his ear. Demoman shut his eye and leaned into the touch. It was nice, gentle, like having his hair played with. A fond, friendly touch. He grumbled out a contented sound, and she giggled in reply.

"Like a big dog," she teased. "So this lasts for a while, you said?"

Demoman stood back up and nodded in reply. He tapped his wrist like a watch were there, and held up one finger.

"An hour, right," Martha recalled. "You can't stop it on your own?"

Demoman shrugged. He'd never thought to try, really. It would make sense if he could dismiss the effects of the magic item at will, just spending an hour's worth of its charge. Probably better to test that out when he wasn't worried about accidentally flashing his future mother-in-law his goolies, though.

"Not gonna be much for conversation for a tic, then," Martha mused. "I'd 'ate to be a terrible guest and just leave you to your own devices. We could watch telly, I suppose." She looked to the living room, and an idea struck her. "Actually, if you'd be willin', since you're so tall right now and all, could you 'elp me out with a few things?"

Shoulders shaking with soft laughter, Demoman nodded again. Why not make himself useful, at least?

"Tav? Mum? We're back for lunch!" Sniper's voice trailed from the kitchen, the door slamming behind him.

"Martha?" Jonathan called.

"Mum, are you—crikey!" Sniper stopped in his tracks as he entered the living room, a mix of surprise and absolute amusement crossing his face in an instant.

There was Martha, pointing at a high shelf over the couch, and giving directions to the werewolf standing beside her, who was rearranging her teacup collection and dusting the area as he went. He was wearing a loosely-tied apron.

"What in the hell—Martha, get away from it!" Jonathan called, terror in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Dad," Sniper assured him with a hand on the shoulder. "That's just Tav."

Demoman set down the teacup he was holding and turned to see them, waving with a giant clawed hand. His gaze settled on Sniper, and he couldn't help his tail from wagging at the sight of him.

It was that moment that Sniper realized that he'd never seen Demoman in his hybrid form without it leading to sex. It was usually a direct cause-and-effect connection, really. He felt his face grow hot, and had to steel himself to tamp down his body's own Pavlovian response to the sight of the giant wolf-man.

Demoman narrowed his eye, smelling the sudden bloom of pheromones immediately and thinking it utterly hilarious.

"That's really Tavish?" Jonathan asked, looking Demoman up and down. "You're enormous!" He turned to Sniper, whose cheeks had gone pink, and pointed to the werewolf in the room. "This is your man? How're you still alive?"

"See, now that's what I said," Martha chimed in, holding back a laugh as her son turned beet red.

Demoman huffed out a laugh and wiped the dust off of his hands on his apron. With a bare few steps he crossed the room and picked Sniper up, making him yelp and go even redder. He licked his lover's face, a snuffling snicker leaving him as Sniper scrambled to wipe himself free of slobber with a scowl. Demoman set him down and looked to Martha, indicating the shelf with one clawed finger, questioning.

"No worries, you've done enough," she chuckled. "Should be an hour up soon anyway, best go get your daks on before we all get a show and Mickey dies of embarrassment."

More snuffling laughter left Demoman as he lumbered down the hall to the guest bedroom.

Jonathan merely clapped Sniper across the back, "Well, you did always love dogs."

"Can't believe you were tartin' about the house in just an apron for me mum. Absolute trollop," Sniper chuckled. The rest of the day had gone by without incident, ending with a hearty dinner of stew and Lady DeGroot's own shortbread for dessert. Once everything was cleaned up and the sheep were in the barn for the night, Demoman and Sniper elected to take a stroll around and enjoy the cooling evening air before settling in for the night.

They left just after dinner, but time had slipped away quickly as they ambled around the farm. The setting sun now boiled away into the horizon, lighting up the sky in purples, magentas, and oranges, fairly stealing the colour from the land, which showed grey as night slowly began to encroach. Gravel crunched under their feet, chased by the soft sussurus of grass as they passed. Demoman took Sniper's hand and threaded their fingers together.

"Are ye jealous? Should I spend more time 'round the base wearin' naught but an apron for ye?"

"Would make for some lovely easy access," Sniper hummed, wishing he'd seen the bomber from the back before he'd transformed.

Demoman chuckled at that. "Never get yer face out o' there if that were the case and ye ken it. We'd never get anythin' done."

"Mm, maybe just for special occasions, then."

"I'll remember that for yer birthday."

Sniper smiled, hoping he could hold Demoman to his word on that. The sheep bleated softly in the barn as they passed, their long walk coming gradually to its conclusion. The house was in sight, its pink siding losing its bright cheeriness in the dying light.

"So how was herdin' with your da?"

Sniper squeezed Demoman's hand, his smile not wavering, much to the bomber's surprise. "Good. Real good. I think 'e finally understands. Doubt 'e'll ever be comfortable with it, but 'e said it's been good for me. The team's been good for me."

Demoman squeezed back. "Glad for ye, Dee."

"Also mentioned somethin' you neglected to tell me about last night."

"What's that?"

"That you asked 'im for my bloody 'and in marriage," Sniper shot, looking at his lover with an accusatory glare.

Demoman merely grinned. "Aye, that I did."

"I cannot believe you."

"Ye said yerself, what he thinks matters tae ye. Ye wanted him tae meet me, approve o' me, even if ye nae said it exactly like that. So, I asked for his approval."

"You know what he told me?"

"What's that?"

"That if you make me 'appy, that I bloody well better marry you. Or 'e'll kick me arse."

Demoman belted out a laugh at that. "Well I'd nae want tae see ye thrashed by yer aul man," he teased.

"Me neither," Sniper hummed, giving him another squeeze.

Their stroll finally came to an end as they climbed the porch. Sniper moved to open the door, but Demoman stopped him, taking the hand he had reached for the knob with. "Just a minute more."

"Yeh?"

"Aye." Demoman wrapped his arms around Sniper, drawing him into a warm hug, and tilted up into a soft, gentle kiss, which the taller man returned with a contented hum. They stayed there like that a moment, just holding one another, lips meeting, breaths shared between them. When they parted, Demoman pressed his forehead to Sniper's, looking into his eye. "Gods, I love ye, Dee."

"Love you too, Pup."

And then Demoman had let go, but only to step back and lower himself to one knee. He took Sniper's hand, looking up at him with an expression so full of naked adoration that it made the bushman's breath catch. "We love each other, and though we're nae doin' rings, I've permission, so... Michael Mundy, will ye marry me?"

Sniper's smile was so wide he felt like it could split his face. Gods, Demoman was so bloody cute, so sweet, so utterly wonderful. And he was going to spend the rest of his life with him. "Yeh, Tav. I will."

Demoman surged to his feet and grabbed Sniper in a bear-hug, lifting him from his feet, laughing with pure, delighted joy. When he set him down he set about attacking him with kisses, hand cupping the back of his head, the other at the back of his waist, keeping him from falling over from the force of his romantic volley. Sniper laughed, overwhelmed and utterly tickled by his lover's enthusiasm, and kissed him wherever he could touch even as he was pelted by Demoman's lips.

Dimly, from inside the open window, they heard Martha begin to cry. They had no idea how long she'd been eavesdropping, but both of them collapsed into snorting laughter when she yelled, "Jonathan! Go fetch a jar of moonshine; we need to celebrate! Our baby boy's gettin' married!"

#team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #monstrous intent #tf2 sword van #tf2 demoman #tf2 sniper #tf2 jonathan mundy #tf2 martha mundy

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lostusagis · 4 months

Text

@auburniivenus asked: “Intoxicated” kamui-san :3

Send in “Intoxicated” to find my muse after becoming drunk.

Whether he admitted it or not, Kamui was really drawn to this woman's unconditional shows of kindness. Even if he'd often say the rudest of things to her. He still thought she was really stupid, for even being nice to him to begin with. It's like she lacked any kind of self-preservation.

She wasn't even afraid of him, what the hell? One of the STRANGER women he's encountered on earth.

What a weirdo. Regardless, he still felt obligated to return the favor for her healing him. Hence the reason he'd visit her sometimes. She'd offer to cook, and admittedly her choices in ingredients was ODD. However, food was food. He ate it regardless without complaint.

He had been thirsty afterwards, and saw a bottle that didn't look like anything he's seen before. He hadn't actually drank before, so he'd be unable to recognize a bottle of alcohol should he'd encounter one.

Kamui assumed it was just an odd choice in juice or whatever, since her food choices were also really odd too. Hence his lack of reluctance to pour himself a cup and drink it. When he drank some...

Yikes. Not tasty at all. He downed the rest of it in his cup anyway hoping it'd quench his thirst. It did not.

However, his head did start spinning. His face became flushed too. Kamui lets out a soft groan, as he ran fingers through his hair wearily. He'd look over at the auburn haired woman though, gaze lingering for a few seconds on the sight of her.

Huh....

What was her name again...? Hime-something.

''You know.... your hair reminds me a lot of my mom.... princess.'' He didn't remember her full name currently, so he just went with the part he did remember.

''It's really, really pretty. She was also really, really pretty.'' His uncharacteristically kind nature right now was obviously due to the influence of alcohol.

Kamui decides to go up to her, but there's a slight stumble as he walked. ''Heeeey, can I braid it? It'd be really nice if we matched, I'd like that a lot.''

He didn't actually give her a chance to respond before he started doing it. Fingers laced through her hair, threading strands together so it'd form a braid.

''All done!! It looks super nice, don't you agree?'' He was really proud of his work, beaming happily. ''Now you look even more like her, princess!''

His smile then fades, ''It's annoying that you are a lot like her. I really hate it. Kind of wish we never met to begin with.'' He huffs childishly, his annoyance showing.

''But I also like being around you a lot too. Because of how nice you are to me.''

#IC. Kamui #auburniivenus #( HOPE it was alright i had them somewhat at a point where they see each other a little more often )#( given that they only interacted a little bit at this point in time lol )

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whiskeysmulti · 4 months

Note

((I suppose as the Boss, he’s gotta go first. It’s only right. Fufu. Moreso, reading this will give a lil bit of context for the next one. SO! This is your first ‘Haru Haru Valentine Choco Delivery’ event with me, but not the first drabble gift. Just as with the previous drabble gift, feel free to do with this as you please. Treat it as a canon event between our muses, or otherwise. Post it or hoard it. You can reply to it or not. Your choice. All the same, hope you enjoy!))

“Tsuuunaa-san!” Haru calls for him like she always has. “Hello! Haru is here a bit early to deliver some Valentine’s day gifts. She’d be a bit busy on the actual day, so please excuse that these are a bit early.” She arrives at the Sawada household while carrying a big bag.

She’s not surprised that most of the people she was looking for could be found at the Sawada household, after all, they usually hung out when they had their free time.

This was a yearly thing, so it shouldn’t have caught anyone off guard that she had prepared something for everyone. Lambo and I-pin had rushed over to her first, quite excited to get their treats. I-pin was polite as ever and Lambo was practically scrambling to look for which gift was his so he could dig into it a second sooner.

Expecting such a thing, Haru had held the bag overhead, telling Lambo to settle down or she’ll have him wait for the actual day to arrive. He settles down shortly afterwards, but not without complaining with a pout.

She hands out a small green bag to him full of checkered butter cookies that she baked. She dipped them in chocolate as well for extra chocolate goodness. The checkered cookies take quite a bit of effort and time to make, but they were tasty.

Ensuring that everyone was getting their bags as intended, she hands an orange bag to Tsuna. “Thank you as always for making sure everyone is safe, Tsuna-san. Happy Valentine’s day.” She didn’t need to say that these were ‘tomo-choco’ considering everyone here knew that she was dating Gokudera.

Did that mean that she’d stop making chocolates for everyone else on Valentine’s day? Perish the thought! It was a day for her to celebrate all of her friends and family! It was a great way to give thanks to everyone for being in her life.

She watched as the children were already enjoying their cookies, and it brought a smile to her face. Haru always got a sense of accomplishment and a full-heart feeling when seeing others enjoy something she made.

Each of the bags also came with a small crochet doll she made. Aside from I-pin, everyone got something that looked like their box-animal. The little girl’s crochet doll was a small bunny. The charms were small and could be used as a keychain—not that she thought any of the guys would do so.

Probably only I-pin and the other girls. The girls were going to be getting their gifts later and she’d of course crochet something for him as well.

“It’s nice to see everyone so happy. The mafia is scary and dangerous, but everyone can be so full of smiles and feel safe because you work so hard to keep it that way.” She leaves him with those words full of appreciation for his diligence.

She settles next to Gokudera, “yours I’ll give you on the actual day. Though, so you don’t feel so left out…” she places a small crochet feline into his hand. “Here is yours.”

Valentine's asks 2024- accepting!

Something Tsuna had gotten accustomed to was the chaos of his everyday life now. He'd rejected the mafia life for the sake of a normal life as your typical loser and honestly it was better for him. As long as he could protect his friends he'd be happy. He smiled seeing Haru was doing well, of course leave it to her to take care of all of them at once, including I-pin and Lambo. The kids were often rambunctious and it was easy to see they were even more excited to see Haru had brought treats. Quietly observing, he took note of how she calmed Lambo so easily by just telling him to settle down or he didn't get the candy, Tsuna would have to remember that, he wasn't often that good with kids as it was usually his mother dealing with them.

Tsuna smiled, accepting the little mini cat charm, "ah, it looks like Natsu. Arigatou, Haru-chan."

It didn't take hyper intuition to understand why Haru had to stop by early. It was evident seeing her next to his best friend, she and Gokudera already had a date planned. He wished them both the best silently, Valentine's day was a day for love and you can still love someone like they were family to you.

#asks #ic #muse; tsuna #queenharumiura #valentine's day asks 2024

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wayward40k · 1 year

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Send ✔️ for a daydream my muse has had about/involving yours. (Shyael/Renfelt)

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING

Shyael found it almost infuriating how the Knight had lingered on her mind. It wasn't very often she encountered people she felt inclined to trust, nor people that were interested in simply talking with her.

And she didn't even known his name.

Of course, it wouldn't be hard for her to find it. That'd just require asking the right people. The courtesan, however, had so far enjoyed a bit of mystery about the man, and was happy to keep it as long as possible.

Daydreaming was not something she was prone to enjoying, and yet, the what-if scenario intruded into her thoughts. Lounging together in a moment without war. Sharing something more suitable to drink, likely a tasty-yet-reasonably-priced imported wine. Talking. Perhaps laughing, even.

A personal, emotionally connecting moment.

How strange. Shyael dismissed the notion, chasing the silly thoughts from her head as she scoffed at herself. Absurd.

#legio-balto #The Consort

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dcviated · 2 years

Text

send me 👤+ a character name for my muse’s opinion on that character || [ open ]

@psychcdelica sent: 👤+ Gen for all ur Ai muses, Amame for Eli, Estelle for Dogi and Anelace for Mizuki :>

GEN -> MIZUKI AND THOSE WITH AIVERSES

“Gen is really cool. Lots of people think he’s tough and scary but under that he’s a big softy. I can tell he’s also a really good friend for Amame which is super appreciated. Also makes some really good food which is why I hang out there every once in awhile when I get the chance.”

“Of course. Gen and I are friends.” Raguna chuckles. “He gives me cooking tips here and there when I ask, but there’s a lot he keeps to himself. Maybe he thinks I’ll open a restaurant and compete with him...? Well, to be fair I did have the thought once. But it’s not really my dream. I wish him the best, running Brahman all by himself has to be difficult.”

“Gen? The owner of Brahman? I apologize, but I haven’t met him, Golden Yokocho is an area I don’t tend to frequent... tch, not unless I’m picking up Boss or some other fool on a drunken stint at Mama’s.”

“Yeah! Love that guy! Even if the menu wasn’t so unique and tasty there’s a hell of a great atmosphere. I meet up at his place with a bunch of my buddies and the time can just fly by. He tends to be on the quiet side, but when he opens up he’s got a sense of humor I really like.”

“Gen makes... the neatest food oh my gosh! Have you ever eaten at Brahman? It’s all stuff I’ve never seen or heard of before and s~o good. And I like talking with Gen too! He’s a great listener and when I have bad days I can just go on and he’s like yeah and here’s like some sagely advice in a really comfy soft voice.” Elijah giggles. “Then I fall asleep.”

“Judge. Brahman is a fine establishment Gen has filled not only with great cooking and music de gozaru, but... mm. It is especially welcoming to those individuals such as myself whose interests don’t fare well in broad daylight. I am glad to have companions like Gen de gozaru.”

Rest under the cut-

AMAME -> ELIJAH

“Mame~! So, I know she and I don’t always see eye to eye on everything but that’s okay! It doesn’t make her any less my friend. I want to support her through all the stuff she’s dealing with the best way I can. Whether that’s giving her tips on how to be super cute or cool spots to spend time! Mm... hey hey! Do you think if I keep spending time with her some more energy might rub off? That’s kind of what I’m hoping for! She’s got such a pretty smile and she should show it more often outside of work! I’ve kind of made that my goal. But don’t tell her, okay?”

ESTELLE -> DOGI

“Looking back on things and how we met and all since then... geez, that girl probably thinks I’m a blockheaded idiot huh? What with how dense I was around her best friend n’ all. But a girl like that’s probably quick to forgive right? It’d sure help out things for me trekkin’ forward. She’s fun to be around too! I can see why Anelace would want to consider her a rival. That’s a good role model to have. Course, I think she’s more Adol’s speed with the spearheading adventures. I’m sure those two have been getting up to a lot in the time they’ve known each other. Long as she doesn’t get feelings for the guy... seen that too many times to count. I don’t think they’ll ever learn with Adol.”

ANELACE -> MIZUKI

“Annie’s someone I wish I knew better like so long ago! To think we were both Super Adorable fans for all these years without realizing it? Ugh! It’s the kind of thing that really gets me frustrated with how rare fans are for that series. Bu~t! Doesn’t matter anymore since now we get to be such cute buddies together. I might be a little cuter than she is, but that’s never a fair competition. She’s also the outdoorsy type, so maybe she’ll teach me about camping soon!”

#psychcdelica #inbox :: answered ic #muse :: mizuki #muse :: raguna #muse :: eira #muse :: dogi #muse :: tenzou #muse :: malkuth #this was a blessed ask #thank you for sending it #I WILL get around to making tenzou's profile and AI verse at some point or other

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

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Never Too Late - Chris Evans x reader

a/n- hey lovely people!! i hope you’re all doing well:) i’ve been working on this one for a while, and i’m super excited to finally share it! because it’s Chris’ birthday, i wanted to have some fun with this, so in the story, chris says 3 things that are quotes / paraphrases of some of his characters’ quotes (like 3 things his characters said in movies lol). see if you can find all 3 of them;) enjoy<3

Summary: Romance is an illusion. Unattainable. Absolutely unrealistic. No one can have a fairytale love story. But maybe, you don't need a fairytale. You just need each other. (In which you and Chris have each given up on romance, but then you meet, and… sparks fly.)

Word Count: 9.6k (hello longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!)

Warnings: some curse words, (responsible) alcohol consumption, slight angst?? honestly it’s just obliviousness, slow burn!!!

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

This was a waste of time.

I'm sorry, the text read, something came up. Raincheck? ;)

Douche. He was the one that asked if you could do this today instead of tomorrow, so you moved your meeting. But apparently, that didn't matter, since he wasn't planning to show up anyway.

You blocked his number, leaving your place at the bar and heading towards the exit. You were in the middle of typing out a furious message to your friend who set you up on this blind date, when you collided with someone in your path quite harshly. You rubbed your arm where you bumped into the person and gazed upwards to meet his eyes.

"Sorry," you both said in unison.

The man let out a chuckle. "Sorry," he repeated, his amused eyes gazing into yours.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize," you said, "I wasn't looking where I was going," you lifted up your phone, gesturing to the reason.

"I'm sure it was important," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "don't worry about it."

"It really wasn't. Again, sorry," you grimaced.

"It's fine," he reassured you, "I was actually on my way to get another drink so it's not like I spilled anything, no harm done," he smiled.

"Well, I'm really glad. Have a good rest of your night," you smiled back. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned to continue your walk towards the exit, opening your texts to write that message to your friend, but as you were turning around the man reached out and grabbed onto your wrist, not harshly but enough to make you turn around to face him once more.

He immediately let go of your hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, it's just… you seemed kind of upset when I bumped into you, are you alright?"

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile, "I'm fine," you looked up at him, "just got ditched by this blind date. Guy didn't show, so I was writing a furious message to my friend who set me up," you chuckled, "that's why I wasn't paying attention."

"Sorry," he said with a sympathetic grimace. "So why were you writing to your friend and not to the guy? I mean, he's the one who bailed."

"No offense, but I learned not to expect as much from the male species," you smirked, and he chuckled in return. "Got bailed on one too many times to have high expectations. Honestly, I was only willing to go on this date cause my friend said this was a great guy and, according to her, I was 'on the sure road to becoming a spinster'. So, I appeased her," you shrugged. Your confession left your lips with such ease, you were almost taken aback by how easy it was to talk to this complete stranger this openly. Maybe, it was easier because you were strangers.

"Ah, I know what that's like. I mean, not the spinster part, the part about appeasing your friends," he chuckled. "They're over there," he gestured to a table a little to the back, "to 'cheer me up'. Said I needed to leave my house more. Although I don't know if they're still sober enough to remember that's why they're here," he smiled affectionately as he looked at his table. Sure enough, the guys looked pretty drunk, but the man didn't seem to resent them for it, he was just amused.

"What did you need cheering up for?" you asked once his gaze went back to meet yours.

"Well, I got dumped. We were together for a few years. I even had a ring," he raised his eyebrows, "but she said it wasn't working out anymore. At least she didn't know about the ring yet," he smiled bitterly.

"Small victories," you nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "anyway, she just finished taking the last of her stuff from ou- my place. She was really lingering with it, we broke up like a month ago. Didn't have the heart to rush her."

"I'm sorry," you put a comforting hand on his shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly. He seemed to appreciate it anyway. "Your sob story's way worse than mine," you joked, getting a small huff of laughter out of him.

"I guess," he said. "But that means I get where you're coming from on the whole no dating thing. It just seems pointless," he shrugged.

"I'm sure this is the part where anyone else would've told you that it'll be okay and you'll find 'your person', but since I'm shittier than that I'll be honest – romance is dead and we'll both probably die alone," you said flatly.

Your blunt tone made him smile, which in turn made you smile, and you nodded as your words sank into the silence between you. You started giggling, and soon he followed, and you were both laughing softly for a while.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning, "I don't know why I'm laughing. It's sad."

"Very sad," you agreed, a grin on your face as well. "to be fair, spinsterhood doesn't sound that bad. Except for the cats thing. I'll never be a crazy cat lady," you shook your head, "they hate me, every single one. I'd get dogs though," you mused, "have a little army of 'em."

"Sounds fun," he smiled.

"Right?" you smiled back, "I'm telling you, it's not as bad as people make it out to be."

Wrapped up in your conversation, you were both still standing next to the bar, and another man pushed past you to get to the bartender. The bubble around the two of you exploded, and you remembered that you were still in public, at the bar.

"You should go get that drink you were here for," you said, gesturing towards the bar.

"Alright," he chuckled. Just then, the man finished ordering, so he told the bartender what he'd like to have, then turned to you.

"Hey, romance might be dead, but chivalry isn't. Let me buy you a drink," he grinned.

"Be still my beating heart," you feigned emotion, before a smile crept back onto your face. "I'll have whatever you're having," you shrugged, and waited as he told the bartender to bring you two another drink.

"So, if you're buying me a drink, I feel like it's only fair I should know your name," you smiled.

"That does seem fair," he sent a small smile your way. "I'm Chris," he put out his hand and you shook it, telling him your name in return.

"So, you come here often?" he smirked, prompting the both of you into another fit of laughter.

"For real though," you said once you got your drinks, "I'm really not looking for anything romantic right now. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," he reassured, "I'm not either."

"Okay good cause this is like, really tasty, so I wouldn't mind having a couple more," you held up the drink he got you with a grin, making him laugh.

You did have a couple more, with Chris. You ended up sitting at the bar, his friends not really noticing he was gone, and talking about anything and everything. You were almost reluctant to end the night, but you really should get home, which is what you told Chris before getting up and getting your wallet.

"Hey, no," he said and gestured for you to put it away, "I was serious, I'll pay."

"Really? I mean, this wasn't a date so I just thought-"

He shook his head adamantly and you put your hands up in surrender and smiled. "Okay. Thank you," you told him as you put your wallet away.

"You're very welcome. Although, there is something I still want to ask you. Can I get your number?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could he spoke up again.

"Nothing romantic, I swear," he chuckled, "but it was really fun hanging out tonight. We should do it again. Completely platonically." He smiled sincerely.

You narrowed your eyes in mock suspicion before laughing. "Alright. Sure, you can have my number," you said, and he grinned before giving you his phone. You put in your number and gave it back.

"See you around, Chris," you smiled before leaving the bar, the smile lingering on your face all the way back to your house.

And when your friends asked you how the date was, you told them he bailed and you went home, never mentioning meeting Chris. You knew how they'd see it, and it wasn't like that, so you just… kept it to yourself. For now.

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

On your way to Chris' house, you picked up the takeout from the place he told you about, before texting him you got it and you were almost there.

It's been a couple of weeks since you met him, and so far he was proving to be a great friend. You texted back and forth most days, but never found the time to meet up again, until today, that is.

You had texted him about your crappy day at work, and how happy you were this week was finally, finally over, so he invited you t his house, and suggested you watch a movie. And well, you accepted. A movie night with a friend was just what you needed to put this shitty week behind you.

"Hi," you greeted him once he opened the door.

"Hi!" he took the takeout bags from your hands and gestured for you to follow him inside, and into the kitchen. "So," he started, while taking out the food, "I realized forgot to tell you; I have a dog," he smiled apologetically, "I don't know if that's a problem, he's in my room upstairs, I won't-"

"Are you kidding?" you nearly squealed, "of course that's not a problem! I told you if I could I'd be a crazy dog lady," you giggled. "Can I meet him?"

"Great!" he chuckled at your enthusiasm, "sure, I'll go get him."

As he went upstairs, you stood there, looking around his kitchen. You weren't sure what to do, it seemed like he got all the food, and it wasn't your house, so… you just stood there.

Fortunately, you soon heard the patter of footsteps, and just as you were about to call out to Chris to ask him if there was anything you could do to help, you heard him yell out.

"Dodger!"

And just then, a big whirl of movement came towards you, and before you knew it a large dog was resting his paws on you, nearly knocking you back. You regained your footing before you crouched down to your knees with a beam.

"Hey," you cooed at the excited dog, who was wagging his tail and still trying to climb onto you, apparently. "Hey," you repeated yourself, rubbing behind his ears affectionately. "It's so nice to meet you," you kept cooing and stroking his fur. He propped himself up and licked your cheek, making you giggle. "Thank you, you're so cute," you scratched his neck affectionately.

"Sorry about him, he gets excited around new people," Chris came into the kitchen apologizing.

"No worries," you grinned as the large dog laid down on his back, exposing his stomach to you in a silent request for belly rubs which you willingly provided. "He's adorable," you looked up at Chris, who was grinning back at you.

"He really is," he agreed, going to finish putting the food in plates before lifting them.

"Can I help with anything?" you asked, still crouched down and petting Dodger.

"Nope, all set," he smiled, "let's go."

He led the way to his living room, where he set the plates down on the coffee table and picked up the remote. "So, what do you wanna watch?"

"Oh, I don't know," you shrugged as you sat down on the couch, "you can pick."

"Well, I would, but we're here because you've had a shitty week, so you should pick whatever you want."

"Ugh, don't remind me. See, Dodger would never do this to me," you turned your gaze to the dog, who has settled at your feet, and started petting him again. "Right? Of course you won't, you're the cutest dog," you cooed.

Chris burst out into a short laugh. "Are you going to steal my dog?"

"It's a very real possibility," you said dryly, shrugging. You turned your gaze to him, your hand still petting Dodger, and smirked.

"Okay, so are you gonna pick a movie now that we've settled that?" he asked, smiling.

"I don't know what to pick," you admitted, "I don't wanna put on anything you don't like, I guess," you mumbled.

"Awwwww, it's fine," he assured with an easy smile, "pick whatever."

You caved and put on a movie you really liked – The Princess Bride. As he realized what movie you were putting on, Chris chuckled.

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"See? I told you I'd put on something you wouldn't like. Forget it, we can just-"

"No, no!" he cut you off, "I really like this movie," he grinned, "I just wouldn't expect that from someone who claims romance is dead, that's all," he chuckled.

"Well, movies have… dragons in them. Do you think dragons are real just cause they're in movies?" you reasoned.

"Okay, I see your point," he raised his hands in mock surrender.

A comfortable silence stretched over the both of you from that point, the only thing filling it was the sound of the movie playing and the occasional shuffling sound when either of you, or Dodger, shifted on the couch.

A bit later, Chris spoke up. "Hey, want a beer?"

"Uh, I probably shouldn't have any. Driving myself home and all," you shrugged.

"Yeah, that's smart," he chuckled. You were both lowering your voices, as if not to disrupt the movie which was still playing. "Mind if I have one?"

"Not at all," you answered truthfully, "It's your house."

He let out another short chuckle, nodding before getting up. When he heard Chris getting up, Dodger lifted his head from where he was laying, and swiftly followed him into the kitchen.

When they returned, Chris brought you a glass of water, and gave it to you before sitting down. Dodger jumped back up onto the sofa, curling up beside Chris, laying his head on his stretched-out legs.

"Awwww," you softly smiled, "that's adorable. He really loves you."

"Not nearly as much as I love him," Chris replied, smiling and fondly rubbing Dodger's head.

"See, that's good love. Love that lasts," you remarked. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned your head back to the movie.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Huh?" you turned your head back to Chris.

"What did you mean by that?" he repeated.

"Oh, nothing," you shook your head. "Just, you know. I know I seem very opposed to romance, but I'm not against love. I love my family," you shrugged, "because they made me the person I am today. They're a part of me. I just don't think that a love between two people who aren't family can last in the same way."

"Yeah. You're probably right. What about dogs though? They're certainly not blood related to us," he joked.

"Certainly," you laughed, "But dogs aren’t as fucked up as humans, so it's not really comparable. Dogs don’t stay up thinking about something embarrassing they did five years ago. Dogs probably don't even get embarrassed, really. They don't have as many doubts and… restrictions. Barriers. They don't have to make everything complicated."

"But humans do."

"Bingo," you chuckled dryly.

"We really do, don't we?" he sighed. "No one really knows what they're doing or who they are. How can you know someone else enough to truly love them when you don't even know yourself?"

"Exactly. You get it," you toasted your glass of water against his beer bottle. "it's too much effort for something that lasts so little."

"Not necessarily little," he suggested, "but never enough. You know, in movies, love is this big force of nature that draws two people towards each other so strongly… it's undeniable, unavoidable. Meant to be," he chuckled. "That feels so far away from anything I've ever experienced."

"Me too, if that's any comfort," you grimaced sympathetically. "Maybe we're just meant to be alone."

"Maybe. Anyway, that's grim," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," you smiled. "Every time I talk about it with my friends, I get told I just haven't found the right person yet, and to keep on hoping and everything will magically be sunshine and rainbows," you fluttered your eyelashes cynically. "It's fun to know there's at least one more realistic person out there," you sent him a small smile, which he returned.

You both turned back to watch the movie, which was heading towards the end at this point. The handsome prince saves the brave princess. He's not really a prince, but, you know. Same difference; it's a fairytale, a legend.

Something no one can ever truly have.

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

Chris and you had developed a habit of calling each other on Mondays, since they were the worst, and you both needed to vent. You were in the middle of one of those calls when something he said made you abruptly stop making your dinner.

"How come I didn't know it was your birthday?" you asked, surprised, at his admission that his birthday was yesterday.

"It never came up," he said. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The party's on Friday anyways, if you wanna come. You can bring some friends too, if you want. There's plenty of space."

"Yeah, okay," you smiled to yourself, "sure. Happy belated birthday, Chris."

"Thank you," he chuckled. "So you'll come?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, I guess," you sighed dramatically, prompting him to laugh.

"Great! See ya Friday," he said.

"See you."

After you hung up the call, you returned to your dinner, but not before texting your friends to invite them along. If you were getting on so nicely with Chris, you assumed the rest of his friends were nice people, so would in turn get along with your friends. Who were also nice people, obviously.

Or maybe, not so obviously.

There was an immediate flood of messages asking about who Chris is and how you met and if he's cute.

You ignored them in favor of finishing making your dinner, and only then sat down with your food and answered their questions, except for that last one.

He's a friend of mine I met not long ago, nice guy, you replied to the group chat.

And?? one of your friends texted.

And he invited me to this party he's throwing for his birthday, and told me I could bring friends, so now I'm inviting you guys. Hopefully, I won't regret that.

But is he cute???

I don't know, and I don't care. You know I'm not looking for anything right now!!

You're no fun. Fine, we'll come and see for ourselves ;P

You scoffed to yourself and continued to eat your dinner, unbothered. Maybe they should come, you mused, just to see that it's possible to make friends without dating them, like a sane adult.

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

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed as Chris ushered you and your friends into his house. "I brought you a wine," you extended the bottle and he took it.

"Thank you!" he said loudly, to overpower the music that was playing. "Is it good?"

"How should I know? I didn't drink from it, it's your gift!" you joked. He laughed before giving you a one-armed hug and waving at your friends. "I'm gonna put this away," he pointed towards the kitchen, "But you should go to the living room, everyone's there."

You gave him a thumbs up and led your friends towards the living room.

"He even laughs at your bad jokes," your friend cooed in your ear, and you sighed and rolled your eyes.

"We're not a couple!" you reminded her.

"Maybe not yet, but I'm just saying you'd make a good one," she shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

You ignored her, and continued walking. On your way to the living room, you did see a whole bunch of other people, but still, the party wasn't huge, especially compared to Chris' large house. There were no more than probably about 80 people there, not including yourself and your friends.

Pouring yourself a drink, you sat down next to your friends, who were already making small talk with another group, and joined the conversation.

Some time went by before the conversation turned to romance, and everyone started sharing funny stories about their significant others.

"What about you?" asked a woman from the other group. She seemed friendly, an easygoing smile on her face. "Everyone has a story to tell."

Before you could answer, one of your friends chimed in. "Oh, she doesn't do romance," she teased.

"Sounds mysterious," the woman laughed.

"Yep," you smiled, amused, "that's me. Dark, brooding, and mysterious."

As you were all laughing, Chris came down to sit next to you. "Having a good time?" he asked the group with a smile, a model host.

"Yeah," one of your friends answered, "we were just talking about how this one never dates anymore," she pointed at you, and you caught Chris' look, amused. "What do you think about that?" your friends asked, oblivious to the silent exchange.

"I think she should do whatever she wants to," he answered with a smile.

"Oh, don’t be diplomatic," she said, "don't you think she should find someone?" she pressed.

"I think she should do whatever she feels like," he persisted.

"Whatever," your friend rolled her eyes with a smile. "Every pot has a lid. Sooner or later, you'll find yours," she said, your words pointed at you now.

You were quiet for a brief moment before speaking up. "Oh, you're done talking about me like I'm not here. Sorry, you were saying?"

The entire group burst into laughter, and you caught Chris' gaze again.

Sorry, you mouthed, shrugging.

It's fine, he mouthed back with a small smile.

The urge to kill your friend subsided when you saw Chris didn't take her pestering too seriously.

For the rest of the night, you proceeded to have a good time, making conversation with a few other people and only running into Chris one more time.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, toasting his cup to yours.

"Yeah. You throw a great party," you smiled.

"I'm glad you think that," he returned your smile.

After that you returned to your friends, and a little while later you all decided to head home. You searched for Chris, thanked him for hosting the party and wished him a happy birthday, and went home.

"You're telling me there's nothing there?" your friend asked you on the ride home.

"There's nothing there," you sighed. "I don't know why you all want there to be."

"We just know what it's like being in love. And we want that for you. It's fun," she smiled.

"Parkour also sounds fun, that doesn't mean I can or am going to do it," you retorted. "You know what I think about being in love. Different people have different paths and abilities. I can be happy without a sweeping romance."

"I know, you're a strong independent woman and you don’t need no man," she rolled her eyes. "Just… don't close yourself off to the opportunity. That's all I'm saying."

"Okay," you shrugged.

Shortly after, she dropped you off, and you went to sleep, thinking nothing of the whole ordeal.

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

She came by today.

When you got the text from Chris on Wednesday, you were puzzled for a few moments before you realized. His former fiancée. I mean, almost fiancée.

Shit

Is everything okay?

It only took him a couple of seconds to reply.

Yeah, I guess.

On an obviously unrelated note, wanna come drink?

You chuckled before texting him your ETA, quickly changing from the already rumpled clothes you had worn all day, and driving to his place.

You texted him when you were outside, and when you walked up to his door it was already opened, and he was waiting for you, a bottle of beer in hand.

"Aw, you drove yourself here?" he asked, before ushering you in, "I told you we should drink."

"Yeah," you chuckled, "but it's not like there's anyone I can ask to drive me on a random Wednesday. It's fine, you drink."

"But I don't wanna drink alone," he whined. "Can't you just spend the night then? I have a guest bedroom."

You opened your mouth to refuse, but then assessed it again. You were in pretty comfortable clothes, you were starting work a little later than usual tomorrow, and well… he needed a friend, and he asked you.

"Okay, fine," you chuckled, "gimmie one of those," you gestured at his beer.

He made a little celebratory motion with his hand before going and getting you another beer.

"So," you started as you took a swig of your beer, "how was your day?"

He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Great. Yeah, just… just great," he took a large gulp of his beer. You waited, giving him the space he needed to speak again. "She wanted to get back together, actually," he scoffed. You frowned, but still refrained from speaking.

"You know, I… I still have the ring," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I still have the ring because I wanted her to come back. But when she finally did I… I couldn't say yes to her. Because it's forever or nothing. And I don't think I'm meant to have a forever. Certainly not with someone who broke up with me anyways," he took another sip of his beer.

"If it's any comfort, I don't think there's such a thing as forever," you shrugged, and he looked at you quizzically. "I told you," you said, "all romance is momentary."

"Maybe that's true," he sighed again. "At any rate, I am now stuck with this ring, which is just… fantastic. Really awesome."

"Can't you bring it back to the shop?"

"Tried to. They won't take it back, say it's been too long for their return policy. That money's lost," he took another sip of beer.

"Well, you know, if it's lost anyways…" you smiled, "I think I have an idea of what to do with it. but first," you raised your beer in a toast, "we do need to be a little drunker for this."

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

A few too many drinks later, you and Chris were stumbling in a park near his home.

"How do you know where we are?" he asked, before nearly tripping on his face, making you giggle as he managed to catch himself on a nearby tree.

"I've been here before," you explained, a little less drunk than he was but still positively buzzed. "It's really pretty."

"It is," he agreed, taking in the trees around you as you kept going. "It's also very isolated. Are you going to kill me?" he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"No," your loud laugh rang through the park, breaking the silence of the night. "I'm not gonna kill you. Promise. Now c'mon, we're nearly there!" you beckoned him to follow you as you ran forward.

The rest of the way went by quickly, the both of you striding hurriedly, or as hurriedly as your inebriated minds would allow, engulfed in the comforting silence of the night. Finally, you got to a clearing with a large lake.

The crescent moon reflected in the water, and the lake was shimmering slightly as the wind disturbed it. The only sounds were those of your slightly labored breath, the soft trickling of the water, and the occasional flap of a bird's wings. The silence surrounded you, but it wasn't suffocating, it was as clear as the water in front of you.

It was finally broken when Chris spoke up again.

"You got me drunk so you could drown me in a lake?"

You burst into another fit of laughter. "First of all," you said in between giggles, "if anyone got anyone drunk it's you convincing me to drun- drink."

It was his turn to laugh at your mix-up. "Shut up," you said, slapping his arm lightly. "Now c'mon. You have the ring, right?"

"Yep," he said, fishing it out of his pocket. "But why did you want me to bring it?"

"Well, the fact I'm not gonna drown you in the lake doesn't mean we're not drowning anything."

"My ex-fiancée?" his mouth dropped open into an o shape.

"No!" you facepalmed. "The ring. You're gonna throw the ring in the river!"

"I am?"

"God, I'm starting to think I got you too drunk," you rolled your eyes. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna think about your relationship. You're gonna reminisce about everything, good and bad, and you're gonna put it in this ring. In your head, of course," you added before he could chime in.

"So I can let go," he nodded in understanding.

"Exactly," you smiled. "We don't need romance. Fuck romance. Fuck forever. You're better than that!"

"Amen!" he said, toasting an invisible glass in the air, making you laugh once more. It was probably the alcohol, but you hadn't laughed like this in a while. It was fun to laugh loudly, freeing. You wondered why you didn't do it more often.

"Alright!" you clapped your hands once, shaking from your thoughts. "Let's get this show on the road!"

You both stepped closer to the lake, and then Chris held out his hand in front of him, his palm open with the ring on it. He stared at it intently for a few moments, then his gaze snapped up to meet yours and he nodded shortly. You didn't speak, you just reached out and closed his fingers around the ring, before stepping aside and gesturing for him to go ahead. He stared at his fist for another moment before taking a swing and throwing the ring as far as he could. You held your breath until you heard the sound of the ring hitting the water, which made you release a breath full of awe.

"You did it," you said softly.

"I did it," he slowly repeated. "I did it!" he yelled out and you laughed in surprise. "I did it!" he yelled again, and in a few short strides he was next to you, picking you up and spinning you around in celebration.

"Put me down!" you shouted at him between fits of laughter, "Lunatic!"

He put you down, grinning widely. "I can't believe I just threw that ring into the lake. That was so stupid."

"It kinda was," you laughed, breathless.

"It was your idea!"

"I know! It's still stupid," you kept laughing, nearly doubling over. "Felt good though, didn’t it?"

"It really did," he let out a bewildered laugh. "Fuck. It really did," he said, and started laughing, which made you start laughing again, and before you knew it you were both laying on the grass, laughing until your cheeks hurt.

"My cheeks hurt," you pouted.

"Awww, I'm sorry," he drawled, reaching out to pinch your cheek, making you swat his hand away, glaring at him. He just giggled again, laying on his back and looking up to the sky.

You laid back as well, staring up.

"I wish I knew something about the stars," he said out of the blue.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Oh, just anything. I don't know jack shit about 'em."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's Orion's Belt," you said, pointing up to a group of three stars. "So now you know that about the stars."

He said your name, making you turn your head to look at him. "You're a good friend," he smiled.

"You're a good friend too," you smiled back at him.

"No, I'm not. All I ever do is moan about my stupid ex."

"I'm sure she wasn't stupid," you reasoned.

"She was! She was stupid with two o's," he mumbled in disdain. You giggled at his words. "I'm not hung up on her," he continued. "I'm just… disillusioned. I thought she was the one. And now that she's gone… I don't know if there's gonna be a one. Which is sad. So I've been sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I was sad too when I started thinking that," you whispered, sobering up a little. "But we don’t need 'a one', Chris. Romance is dead, but life goes on. We're on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it."

"I spent so much of my life looking forward to spending the rest of my life with someone. And now that I realize that might not be the case… I guess I just realized that this is it. The rest of my life. I needed to throw that ring to make peace with that."

"Glad I could help," you gave him a half-smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze.

"Yeah," he returned a squeeze of his own, "me too."

"C'mon," you said, leaving his hand and getting up, before helping him to his feet as well. "We should get going."

You stumbled your way home, leaning on each other for some parts of the way. Sleepy and still a little buzzed, you finally got to his house, and he led you to the guest bedroom.

"Goodnight," he said, smiling.

"Goodnight," you whispered back, before he turned and walked up the stairs. You listened to him climb, and heard the sound of another set of footsteps, soft cooing coming from upstairs, and then heard the sound of a door closing.

Dodger, you thought with a smile, before closing your own door and plopping down on the bed.

In the last minutes of your wakefulness, you thought about how lucky dogs were.

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

"So, are you dating him?"

"No!" you said indignantly, "have you listened to a single word I said?"

"Oh, so you're just not putting a label on it? you're a little too old for those games if you ask me, but suit yourself," your friend shrugged.

"Come on! He's just a friend," you huffed.

"If that's what you wanna tell yourself," she smirked, but then her look became more sincere. "Look, I know you. I know that every time we talk about him, you're happy. Why can't you admit that you like him?"

"I do like him, as a person! I like all of my friends!"

"You're impossible," she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile.

"You're impossible," you retorted weakly before smiling at her.

"You know we all just want you to be happy, right? That's all we want."

"I know," you said softly, "and I appreciate it. I really do. But I am happy, on my own."

"If that's the case, then I'm happy for you," she sighed. "I don't want you to feel like a third wheel, especially with Sarah's wedding coming up. You're the last of us who hasn't tied the knot yet."

"I'll be fine at Sarah's wedding," you rolled your eyes.

"I know, I know," she raised her hands in surrender, "But I'm just saying, I know you're anti-romance, but I also know you're not anti-company. Maybe you should bring Chris. As your friend, if you insist" she added when she saw you open your mouth to object. "Just, you know, everyone's coming with someone, and I don't want you to sit alone."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but seriously, I think you're underestimating my social skills. You do realize I can talk to people I don't know, right?"

"I know," she huffed. "Just… consider it, okay? For me?"

"I'll think about it, I guess," you shrugged.

You had no intention of following through on that. Except, well, it did come up when you were talking to Chris.

"What are you doing Friday?" he asked, his voice mechanical through the phone. "I thought we could finally see that movie you're always talking about."

"Nope, can't do Friday," you said, the phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you were folding your laundry.

"Aw, that's a shame. I was really looking forward to you finally shutting up about it," he teased, making you chuckle. "What're you doing Friday then?"

"First of all, if you'd listen to me and see it, you wouldn't wanna shut up about it either, because it's awesome. Second, I'm going to a friend's wedding. I'm gonna sit aside, drink some wine, and make fun of all the drunk couples."

"Sounds like a real fun night," he teased.

"Yeah," you said sarcastically. "I am really happy for her though. I know she wanted it for a long time," you said, sincere now.

"Hey, um, if you want, maybe I could come laugh at drunk couples with you? So you'll have some company," he offered.

"Oh, you don't have to," you dismissed it, "I know it sounds like a bummer, but really, I'll be fine."

"No, really. No one should have to sit alone at weddings," he said.

"Another friend of mine told me that as well."

"Well then, this friend of yours is smart. Believe me, as a veteran of many sit-alone weddings myself, I can confirm it's indeed a huge bummer."

"Fine," you chuckled, "I guess if you want to come so badly you may," you said, making him laugh.

"Great, text me the details?"

"Yep," you smiled. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure, bye!"

You hung up the phone to get up and start putting all your clothes into the closet. After you were done with that, you sent Sarah a text to let her know you will be bringing a plus one at the end, asking her if that'd be okay.

Is it Chris????

Yeah

Then it's fine!! :)))

You chuckled to yourself and kept putting away your clothes.

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

The night of the wedding, as a close friend of the bride's, you arrived at the venue a couple of hours beforehand, along with all of your friends. Chris came some time after guests started to arrive, and it didn't take you long to spot him in the crowds, looking a bit lost. You excused yourself quickly from the conversation you were in with some of the groom's friends and went to greet him.

"Hey!" you waved as you walked towards him, "Chris!"

Grinning when he saw you, he also began moving towards you, until you finally met in the middle.

"I'm glad you could make it," you smiled.

"I am too," he said, "seems like a nice wedding."

"Yeah. C'mon, you're just in time. They're gonna start the ceremony soon," you explained as you grabbed his arm and started leading him towards your seats.

"Oh-kay," he chuckled as you dragged him forward with surprising determination.

As you took your seats, you waved at your friends, and they freaked out over Chris being there, but you paid no mind to them, as Chris was leaning towards you, whispering, "You know, for someone who doesn't seem to enjoy romance, you sure do seem excited about this wedding."

"Well, I'm happy for Sarah. I've learned that me and my friends have a different outlook on that, and that's fine, it's useless to argue about it or whatever. I'm just happy she's gonna have what she wanted, even if I don't really believe in it."

"So how does that work? If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?"

"Chris, if one of my friends told me they found a way to adopt a unicorn, I'd be happy for them, no questions asked. Everyone should do what they feel like," you shrugged. "Now shhhh, they should be starting every minute now."

The ceremony was a beautiful one, and Sarah looked gorgeous in her white dress. As she walked down the aisle with a beaming smile, Chris' words echoed in your mind.

If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?

Despite your quick answer, you didn’t really know. The short answer was the one you told Chris, but the long one…

For the longest time, you believed romance just wasn't durable. Wasn't real. But maybe you just didn't believe that you can have that kind of romance? You just never really had someone to challenge your perception like that, because no one ever took it seriously, they just told you you'd find your person.

But that wasn't something you wanted to think about now, so you filled it away for later.

"It was a beautiful ceremony."

You and Chris were a little far out from the dancing crowd, somewhere a little quieter, but you could still see the dance floor from the bench you had found.

"Yeah, it was," you agreed with him.

"Not beautiful enough to make you cry, I guess?" he teased.

"Ha ha. I don't cry at weddings."

"I could've guessed that," he chuckled. "So what do you usually do at weddings? I mean, all your friends are married, so I'm assuming you've been to quite a few."

"What I'm doing right now. Sitting aside and drinking," you raised your glass in mock salute before taking a generous sip.

"Solid plan," he nodded slightly. "So you've never like, danced at weddings or anything?"

"No," you frowned, shaking your head slightly, "Why would I? I'm not a dancer, really.

"Well, how 'bout we go and change that?"

"Excuse me now?"

"I'm just saying, if you're really happy for your friend, maybe you should show her that. Enjoy yourself."

"I am enjoying myself," you deadpanned.

"Do what people are meant to do at weddings," he rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were here to silently judge everyone with me. Don't make me regret inviting you," you jokingly waved your finger at him as if you were telling him off.

"That's still the plan. We could just probably still do that on the dance floor," he shrugged. "Your call."

There was a short-lived silence before you sighed. "Fine. One dance," you warned.

Getting up, he offered his arm to you, which you took, and you made your way o the dance floor. You started dancing to the end of the upbeat song that was playing, but just then it changed into something a little slower, and people were pairing up.

"This is the money time," Chris winked, and offered you his hand. You took it, almost instinctively, and you started dancing to the song, his other hand on your waist while yours was on his shoulder.

"What do you mean money time?" you whispered.

"Okay. We're gonna turn around, and you're gonna look at the couple that's gonna be behind me," he said, turning the both of you around casually as you danced.

"Oh my god," you suppressed your laughter. "That's… I don't even know what to say. Are they even a couple or is he her da- oh nope, he just kissed her on the lips. God," you grimaced as Chris laughed at your expression. "I at least hope he's rich for her sake."

You both chuckled, and it was only a couple of moments later that you gasped with a smile. "Don't be obvious cause they're pretty close, but look at the couple to my right."

"Oh shit," he chuckled. "Remind me not to go to any secluded corner of this wedding. These two are probably this close to running off to do things I definitely wouldn't wanna see."

"Right?" you said, amused, "They're practically eye fucking. Have some decency!"

You both laughed again, and then Chris nodded his head subtly in another direction. "Look at those two."

They were a couple that wasn't dancing, they were sitting at a table close to the dancefloor, their foreheads touching, seemingly murmuring to each other.

"Betcha they're the kind of couple who does the whole 'no you hang up!' thing," Chris continued with an amused grin.

"Oh they so are!" you burst into laughter. "They probably share a single spaghetti from both ends."

"Lady and the Tramp style," you both said at the same time, prompting you to tear your eyes from the couple and look at each other, giggling.

You continued dancing through the next song, and the next one, and the one after that. For pretty much the rest of the night, you two danced together, continuing to invent silly stories about the people you saw, laughing at each other's cheesy anecdotes.

When it was getting late and the party was winding down, Chris offered you a ride home, since he hasn't drunk, and you gratefully accepted. You came here with your friends, and they were all probably staying longer, but you were getting a little sleepy, so you decided to call it a night.

"Let's just go say goodbye to Sarah," you said and he nodded, letting you lead the way.

"Hey, I'm getting pretty tired, so we're gonna leave. Congratulations," you smiled once you had gotten to the table the happy couple was sitting at. As Chris was shaking the husband's hand, you had bent down to wrap your arms around Sarah in a tight hug.

"So you admit you're a 'we' now? You and Chris?" she teased, whispering in your ear.

"We're not," you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever you say," she smiled knowingly. "Thank you for coming," she said louder once you let go of her.

"It was a pleasure, congratulations," Chris smiled at the both of them, and you all gave your goodbyes.

On the way back, you were already lulling into sleep in the passenger's seat, and Chris smiled to himself.

"Chris," you mumbled from your half-asleep state.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For coming with me today. You're right. Dancing with you is better than sitting alone."

"Wow, what a compliment," he drawled sarcastically.

"Yeah, don't let it get to your head buddy," you chuckled, before shifting around in your seat so your head was leaning on the window. "Can you wake me up when we get there?"

"Sure," he smiled, "Sweet dreams."

"Thanks," you yawned.

When you got to your house, Chris gently nudged your shoulder a few times to wake you up. You woke up, confused for a second, but quickly regained your composure and thanked him for the ride.

You went into the house, barely changing out of your dress before plopping down on the bed.

It was kind of weird, honestly. Usually, no matter how tired you were, you wouldn't manage to fall asleep in a car, or a plane. Even a bed that wasn't yours was sometimes harder to sleep in.

But you were in your own bed now, so you didn't have a lot of time to mull that over before you sunk into a deep sleep.

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

"Hey," Chris greeted over the phone one Monday.

"Hi! How's it going?" you smiled.

"Fine. I mean, actually, do you wanna come over?"

"Right now?" you frowned.

"I mean, why not? Have the Monday chat in person."

"Um, sure. Yeah, I'll be over in a bit," you said. Hanging up, you didn't think too much of his invitation. He sounded fine, and he said he was. He was probably just being nice.

Soon enough you were knocking at his front door. It opened to reveal a very excited Dodger pouncing on you, and you giggled as you crouched down to pet him. "Yeah, hi Dodger! How's the cutest boy doing?"

"Ouch," Chris joked from the doorstep.

"Hello to you too, I guess," you said dryly, but with a grin on your face.

You all went inside, and Dodger went straight to his bed, curling up. "Your knock woke him up," Chris explained, smiling at the sight.

"Oh, sorry," you gave him a small smile.

"It's fine. As you can see, he has no problem going right back to sleep," he chuckled.

"Yeah," you giggled. "Is everything okay? I mean, is there a reason you wanted me to come except to enjoy my magnificent presence?" you teased.

"Well, that was mostly it," he laughed, "but actually, I did want to talk to you about something. Wanna go outside?"

"Um, sure," you said, frowning slightly before forcing yourself to smile again.

You stepped outside into his garden, sitting in the big lawn chairs.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" you asked, turning your head to look at him.

"That's Orion's Belt, right?" he evaded, pointing at a group of stars in the night sky.

"I'm pretty sure it is," you shrugged.

For a moment, you were both quiet.

"I've changed my mind," Chris started. "This isn't the rest of my life. It's just my life."

"Okay," you said, not getting where he was going with this.

"You know, all these cheesy couples we made fun of at Sarah's wedding? I think they have it right."

"How come?"

"They realized that romance isn't about forever. It's about right here, right now. It’s in the little things. I've been so opposed to romance lately, and I was constantly thinking about how I wouldn't have a forever, so much so that I forgot what's going on now."

"And what's that?" you asked softly.

"Something much simpler than that. Happiness."

You stared at each other in silence, a slight frown still on your face.

"You make me happy," Chris admitted in a soft voice. "You make me really happy. And I don't want to lose your friendship, but I have to ask you this, because otherwise I don't think I'd forgive myself. Do you really not believe in romance? At all?"

"I don't know," you whispered. Clearing your throat, you continued a bit louder. "I don't believe in everyone's version of it. The happily ever after, forever. I don't need anyone to complete me either."

"There's always a middle road. Maybe not everyone has someone, and we don’t need romance, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to want it. We shouldn't have to sit alone at weddings," he said sincerely. After a breath, he continued. "I'm not asking you for forever. I don't want to. But I want to ask you for now. And I don't think I'd complete you, just like you don't complete me. But you do make my life a whole lot better."

"Chris, you know I'm not looking for anything, I told you that when we met," you said weakly.

"I know. I also wasn't looking for anything. And yet I found… something. And I'd be a coward not to pursue it. We can make our own kind of romance; not a happily ever after, but a happy here and now. No big cheesy gestures, or unreasonable promises, just… being together. And that means I can't promise you it'll work, that it'll be perfect. Hell, it'll probably be messy, and hard, and mundane, at times, but that's how life is. But I can promise I'll try. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life."

You thought back to every romantic relationship you've had. Every date you've been on. A lot of them were disappointing, but some of them were good.

None of them made you as happy as being with Chris did. Not one of your actual dates managed to top just hanging out with Chris. You didn't know why, but you felt safe with him, like you can be entirely yourself. You felt happy.

You didn't want to risk that. You didn't want to lose that. But what if taking this one risk would make it all that much better? You thought back to all of your friends, how happy they were with their significant other, how in love. What if putting your heart out on the line, for the first time in a long while, would make you happier than you had ever imagined?

Of course, it could also make you devastated. It could crush you. But that's the risk, isn't it?

There isn't any other person you'd rather take that leap with, you realized. In the few months you knew Chris, he already managed to become one of your favorite people in the entire world. You trusted him, cared about him, more than you'd let yourself realize up until now. And like he said, not exploring that would make you a coward. And you're not.

You took a deep breath. Chris gave you the time you needed, simply looking at you softly.

"I haven't dated anyone in a while. I might be rusty," you chuckled finally.

"I'm willing to take those odds," he smiled. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," you nodded, a grin slowly making its way onto your face. "If there's anyone I would do this with, it's you," you admitted softly.

He grinned, getting up from his chair and extending his hand out to you, and you accepted. Gently, he pulled you up on your feet, using his momentum to bring you to stand closer to him and wrapping his other arm around your waist. Slowly, you two inched closer, until, finally, his lips were on yours.

There weren't fireworks, or butterflies. There was just this moment, right here, right now. No doubts, or hesitations, it was peaceful. It felt right.

This moment was all you could ever ask for. All you'd ever need.

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

"You look so beautiful in the mornings," Chris murmured, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

"You too. Happy birthday," You whispered back, weaving your fingers into the hairs on the nape of his neck. He hummed in response, and you giggled, feeling it tickling your neck.

You laid there for a while more, just basking in each other's company. But when you looked at the clock, you started nudging Chris away from you. "We should get up," you said softly, "We have a party to prepare for."

"The party's not until the evening," he whined, "Stay in bed," he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.

You ended up leaving the bed at noon, eating a big lunch before tidying up for the party. A few minutes later, you slipped away, to set up your surprise.

"Hey Chris?" you called from the other room, "Can you just come over here for a second?"

"Coming!"

He entered to find you and Dodger in matching little party hats, and you were holding one out for him too.

"Wow!" he burst into laughter, putting the party hat on his head. "What's all this for?"

"I thought we should celebrate a little before the guests arrive," you shrugged. "And, you know, Dodger looks so cute in that little hat."

"He does," Chris cooed. "How did you manage to put it on him? He would never let me put anything."

"Well, he just likes me more," you smirked. Chris scoffed amusedly. "Okay fine," you rolled your eyes, "I may have bribed him with a treat."

Dodger's ears perked up at the word and you both laughed at the suddenly interested dog.

"I shouldn't have said that," you giggled.

"Probably," he agreed. "Thank you," you put his arm on the small of your back, nudging you closer to his side.

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," you smiled, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He cupped your cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss, but before it could get any further Dodger was barking and putting his front paws on the both of you.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get jealous. We love you too," you and Chris laughed, petting his head affectionately.

Honestly that day was a perfectly normal day for you and Chris. Being in love for the two of you didn't mean big highs and lows. You had your moments, but most of the time, it was just this peaceful bliss.

Later that night, the party was already in full swing. You and Chris separated from each other at some point, but you were making the rounds, so you knew sooner or later you'd meet up again.

In the small crowd, it was easy to spot your friends, sitting with the same group they did last year. You smiled to yourself, going up and greeting everyone warmly.

"How's everyone doing?" you asked, sitting down for a moment.

There was a chorus of "fine"s and "good"s before the conversation continued. You joined in, talking to your friends and catching up with the other group.

"Hey," Chris' voice was suddenly next to you. He came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, talking softly next to your ear. "I'm gonna get myself another beer. You want anything as well?"

"Um, yeah. Can you bring me one too?"

"Sure," he smiled.

You tilted your head so you could reach and kiss his cheek, "Thanks."

As he walked away, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group, only to find them all looking at you with knowing grins.

"I thought you didn't do romance," said the woman you had spoken to last year, a teasing smile on her face.

"I didn't. I guess I changed my mind," you smiled softly, watching Chris’ back as he dissappeared into the kitchen.

Maybe romance wasn’t so bad after all.

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

did you catch the three references? tell me:)) i hope you like it, and if you stuck through this entire story, thank you so so much for reading!! as always, i’d love to hear your thoughts, and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself<3 happy chris day!!

special shoutout for @animnerd who gave me some motivation when i needed it<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash @imvivian

Chris & co. taglist: @patzammit

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #happy birthday chris evans

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emmet-appreciation · 2 years

Note

Tepic and cyndaquil!

cyndaquil: does your muse open up easily, or are they shy?

I've already answered this question here but I just had another thought:

Emmet was a quiet kid. Because he didn't talk until reaaaaaally late, people thought he was shy. They were wrong. I'd like to think Emmet would've battled anyone and everyone who would say yes (and maybe sometimes if they said no. He was an excitable kiddo)

Ingo could often read what he was thinking and feeling so he assumed the role of talking for Emmet for awhile. He would be extremely receptive to Emmet's feelings, but I think thanks to his tendency to ramble, he probably would've ended up talking over Emmet sometimes. Maybe they got into arguments because of it?

Just a thought.

tepig: what’s your muse favorite dish?

You have no idea how tempting it is for me to say "donuts" like fricking. PokeAni Chili. But I won't because I have self restraint.

🤔🤔 This might change later (I can never choose food hcs for the life of me) but for now I'll say... Castelia cones! They have a sweet, naïve flavour and are verrry tasty. Plus, (going off of BW logic), they are so popular that you can only buy them on a certain day which makes for a nice schedule. I'd imagine Emmet would always make a beeline for Castelia city's sweet treat right after work on Tuesday. No exceptions.

#mun rambles #ask #headcanons #ingo #emmet #nobori #kudari #submas #subway bosses #subway masters #autistic submas hcs #ty for asking! these were fun to think about :>>#lov ya lilac 😎😎#/pl ofc

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 6: Couldn’t Call Our Ride

Summary: On the trip back to base-camp, Steve finds himself bonding more with Katie, and also grows close to a number of the prisoners they liberated.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: Again, used a fair bit of creative license with this but, what is Fan-Fic if not exactly that? This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.

And my girl is back! @angrybirdcr hitting the spot with some wonderful edits to accompany this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 5

hey reached the rest of the men a few hours later and Steve was please to find that Dernier and the British officer, Falsworth, had already started to organise things. The wounded were being treated as best as they could by the trained field medics who were amongst the soldiers that had been liberated, a little food was being handed out, and there were men patrolling the perimeter of the area of the old, abandoned camp.

However, the elation Steve felt at having found Bucky and the rest of the men soon died down when, after Katie told him to send the signal to Peggy and Howard, he found out the transponder was going to be of absolutely no use whatsoever.

Not because it didn't work, oh no. But because it had clearly been hit in the crossfire, a corner blasted off somehow.

Which meant they were alone, with no ex-fill forthcoming.

Katie had, once again, been the voice of logic, this time supported by a few of the other soldiers and reasoned with Steve that they would be best taking a few hours to rest and treat the walking wounded before they regrouped in the morning and came up with a plan. The Captain had obliged, despite his itch to get going as soon as possible. He knew, logically, that she was right.

After wandering the camp and making sure everyone was okay, Steve’s attention then turned to ensuring that there were enough people ready to relieve the guys on guard patrol for the evening. He wanted them swapped out regularly enough to allow them all to rest. Once he was satisfied they were organised, he walked a little further round the perimeter, his sharp eyes checking into the distance every so often.

His stomach gave a little growl and his hand dropped to the top of his jacket, absentmindedly rubbing at his belly. He’d so far declined the offer of food, despite assurances from the men handling the supplies that they had ample for everyone. He knew that might not be the case if they were still stuck in a few days, and there were people in far more need of a meal than he was. Still, he knew he was going to have to eat something at some point.

With a groan he slumped down onto a large upturned tree trunk, letting out a frustrated breath. How could he could be so dammed stupid as to damage their ticket out of here? There was no way to call help, and now they were faced with a hundred and twenty click hike back to base through potentially occupied territory.

As he sat there, mulling over his own stupidity and failings, he heard a footstep behind him and he turned sharply to see Katie approaching him, carrying a foil packet in her hand. Her boots crunched over the frosty layer of leaves and detritus that covered the woodland floor as she approached him.

“Hey,” she smiled, her breath fogging the cold air in front of her. “I know you haven’t eaten, and I also know you won’t unless someone makes you so, here.”

Steve gave her a little smile in return and took the packet she was offering, looking at the label before he took a rye cracker out of the packet and shoved it into his mouth. It wasn’t particularly tasty, and was rather dry, but it was food none the less. She then handed him a canteen of water which he took with another thanks and flipped off the top, taking a huge gulp.

“Everyone who’s ill or in desperate need of a meal has had some hot broth.” She continued to explain. “Bucky managed a good mug or two of it, that is before he started coughing his guts up anyway.”

“Bucky’s sick?” Steve frowned. “I thought he said he was doing okay?”

“Well that’s men for you.” Katie gave him a little smile as she perched on the log besides him. “Insisting you’re always okay when you’re not.”

“Is he in a bad way?”

“No, all things considering he’s actually in pretty good shape.”

“All things considered?” Steve turned to her, his puzzlement reflected on his handsome face, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Has he not told you?” Katie frowned.

“No.” Steve shook his head.

“Well, in all fairness he didn’t tell me either, it was Dum Dum.”

“Oh.” Steve let out a breath satisfied that his friend hadn’t been holding out on him. “How do you know him, Duggan I mean?”

Katie took a deep breath. “He was part of my specialist team at first, but when we got news that the Nazis and HYDRA were marching on Azzano, well, it was all hands on deck so to speak and he was dispatched with the rest of his original unit to fight.” She paused bit her lip, folding her arms across her chest, almost as if she was hugging herself to keep warm. “From what Dum Dum tells me, that’s where he first met Bucky. Apparently, Bucky contracted walking pneumonia on the battlefield, which got progressively worse in captivity.”

“And let me guess, HYDRA were nothing short of sympathetic?” Steve snorted sarcastically and Katie gave a little chuckle as she leaned against him, shivering.

“I’m sure you can guess why they were kept in those cages instead of being shot.”

“They were being used as labour in the factory.” Steve stated and he felt Katie nod as he lifted his arm so she could snuggle in against him a little.

“Thanks.” She smiled and Steve’s hand curled over her shoulder, gently rubbing her arm. “You’re ridiculously warm.”

“Must be the serum.”

“Must be.” She mused before she lay her head against him. “That the only reason you’re making the moves on me, Rogers? To keep me warm? Because I should tell you, I’m not that kinda gal!”

Steve gave an exasperated sigh as she chuckled. “You forget, I know exactly what type of dame you are.”

At that she let out a full on laugh which warmed his chest even more and he felt her shake her head. “Yeah, I guess you do. Just don’t tell Howie, he likes to think I’m perfectly sweet and innocent.”

“Bull shit.” Steve shot back before he could stop himself and she simply shrugged before they fell silent for a moment, Steve’s hand still gently rubbing at her upper arm. As the silence continued, he worried he’d overstepped the mark a little and he glanced out again across the cold, dark forest, wondering what to say, and then Katie shifted next to him, snuggling in even further and began to speak again.

“Bucky became so weak that one day that he collapsed in front of the Colonel that was in charge.” Her voice was soft, and Steve turned to look down at her, swallowing at the thought of what his best friend had been through, a thought which became progressively worse as she continued. “He took a nasty beating as a result and was dumped back in the cage which contained Dernier, Dum Dum, and Falsworth. The three of them fast realised that if Bucky was made to do any more work he’d die so they came up with a plan which basically got rid of the Colonel for good.”

“What, you mean…”

“They killed him.” She stated, matter of factly. “Crushed him under a tonne of machinery. This left some other goon in charge, and he was slightly, well, a little more compassionate, so Dum-Dum says. When this new guy spotted Bucky was ill he was taken to the isolation ward.”

Steve shifted a little and Katie sat up as he ran his hands over his tired face, dragging his fingers down his cheeks before his elbows came to rest on his knees. He pondered her words for a moment, chewing his lip before he spoke again, his voice soft.

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long had he been on the isolation ward?”

“A few days, apparently.”

Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they didn’t want to infect the rest of the workers.” She offered and Steve shook his head.

“But why take him there and not just-“ he stopped short of what he was going to say but Katie gently reached out, her hand laying on his back.

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Did they do anything else to him?”

“Again, no idea. You’ll have to ask him. He aint gonna give you anything tonight, though. One of the guys shot him with some penicillin that was in the medical supplies we stole and then gave him something to help him sleep. He’s out for the count in one of the tents. He’ll be fine after a rest, Steve.”

Steve looked around, his eyes falling on the soldier currently walking the perimeter as he passed a few hundred yards away from them, before he took a deep breath.

“I should go, see how-“ he made to stand but Katie gently laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Everything and everyone is fine, Steve.”

“I’m their Captain.”

“Yes, and you’ve done enough. You should get some rest, we both should.”

“How can I just sit here?” Steve shook his head. His mind was whirring, his body positively thrumming with adrenaline and unease, making the mere thought of sleep seem impossible.

“You need to. We have a long trip back to base ahead of us.”

“Which is on me.” Steve raised his eyebrows, not meeting her eyes as he focussed on a tree trunk a few feet ahead of them.

“How do you work that one out?” Katie frowned.

“I should have kept that transponder safe.”

“Oh for God’s sake!” She spluttered, her tone laced with exasperation as she shook her head as he turned to look at her.

“What?”

“Stop with this self-pity.”

“I’m not-“

“Yes, you are!” She rolled her eyes. “The transponder got broken, it wasn’t your fault. And short of inventing a time machine, there’s exactly zilch anyone can do about it. So sitting here, wallowing in your own completely misplaced sense of guilt is utterly pointless. You need to pull it together, because you’re right about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Steve’s nostrils flared angrily at her tone as she groaned.

“You are their Captain.” She stared at him, her green eyes full of fire. “And if they see you looking despondent and moping around what the hell do you think that’s gonna do to their morale, huh?”

“You know what?” Steve fixed her with an icy glare, his temper flaring. “I’ve had it with you telling me what to do, Agent Stark. I think you’ve forgotten who’s leading this mission!”

“Without me you wouldn’t have lasted five minute in that base, Captain Rogers!” She scoffed. “You hadn’t the first idea about basic stealth or operations.”

“I’d have managed just fine.”

“You know,” Katie gave a snort, shaking her head as she stood up, “Erskine was right about you, you really are a stubborn asshole”

“And you’re a brat.” He shot back, a little childishly as he too rose to his feet and with that she laughed.

“A brat?” She raised her eyebrows, wrinkling her nose up as she continued, sarcasm dripping off her words. “Original. Never heard that one before.”

She turned to leave and Steve felt his temper rising even more. He was sick and tired with people underestimating him.

"All you care about is how everyone sees you, because you got somethin’ to prove.” He shot to her back. As soon as the words flew out of his mouth he knew he shouldn’t have said them, his mind whirring back to the conversation he’d had with her the night before his transformation and, as she turned to face him, he felt a sudden pang of guilt at the anger and hurt that was etched across her face as she stalked towards him, stopping less than a foot away, her finger jabbing him in his chest.

“Listen here you stupid son of a-”

Before her tirade could continue, Steve grabbed her by forearms and pulled her straight into him, his lips forcefully crashing against hers. She reciprocated for a moment or two before she made a noise of protest and put her hands on his chest, shoving him slightly.

“You are an arrogant-“

“Shut up.” He mumbled, his lips crashing to hers again and this time she made no further protests, instead she melted into his arms, her lips soft against his as her arms slid round his neck, his own large hands splaying on the back of her combat jacket as he held her close. The kiss was furious, bruising, a far cry from any of the ones they’d shared so far and when they eventually broke apart, he pressed his forehead to hers as Katie stood, her eyes closed for a moment, her chest heaving. Eventually his eyes opened to find hers already studying his face and she took a deep breath.

"Where the hell did you get the sack for that, Rogers?" She asked, her voice little more than a whisper as she continued trying to catch her breath.

“The serum?” He shrugged a little as her hands fell to his shoulders, the heat rising from his neck to his cheeks as he realised exactly what he’d just done. He bit his lip and, as she gave a snort, he cocked his head, feeling a little bolstered by his act of bravery and he grinned and quipped. “Had to shut you up somehow.”

Before she could respond, no doubt with an equally sassy remark of her own, Steve heard a twig crack somewhere to his right and he whipped round, automatically pulling Katie behind him only to find Dum Dum and Dernier stood a few feet away. Both of them wore similar expressions of amusement as Dum Dum’s head turned slowly to the left. Dernier met his gaze and mumbled something in French before he laughed.

“Yeah, I got no idea what ya’ just said, Pal.” Dum Dum sniffed before he looked at Katie, his arms folding as he let out a smirk. “Well, well Lady Lieutenant and The Captain.”

Steve swallowed, the heat in his cheeks burning like a furnace and he felt Katie let go of his hand before she stepped out from behind him, smoothing down her jacket, her hands settling on her hips.

“You’re only jealous Duggan because the closest you’ve been to a woman in the last God knows how long was when that nurse was pulling a bullet outta your ass after the raid on the base in Norway.”

Duggan’s mouth twitched below his moustache before he let out a below of laughter, his eyes twinkling. “You gotta smart mouth, Stark. Gonna get you into trouble one day!”

“It already has, several times. Got me out of it too.” She grinned. “Now, did you want something, Corporal?”

Duggan shook his head, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “No, Ma’am. We were just doing the rounds so to speak.”

“Well, don’t let us stop you.” Katie gestured with her arm, making a sweeping motion, signalling for them to keep on walking.

Exchanging another smirk, the two men straightened up and saluted her before they continued on their way. As they passed, Dernier gave a little nod to the Captain, chuckling as he remarked. “Vous auriez pu au moins lui acheter un verre d’abord, Capitaine.”

“Oh, nous avons bien depasse cette etape.” Katie shot back and Derneir stopped dead, blinking as she smirked before he let out a loud laugh and hurried after Dum Dum.

“Okay, what did he just say?” Steve asked, drawing up behind her as they both watched the men leave.

“He said that you could have at least bought me a drink first.” She turned, smirking as Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told him we were way past that stage.”

“Jesus, Doll!” Steve groaned, his face scrunched up in embarrassment and mock frustration, all the while Katie laughed.

“What?”

“That’s gonna be all round the Camp by morning.”

“You ashamed of me?” She teased.

“No, of course not.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” She gently patted his chest. “All things considered, I think that’s the least of our concerns don’t you?”

With that she stood on her tip toes and placed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before she stepped back. “Now, I’m gonna go back to the rest of the guys and make sure they’re all okay, and as their Captain, I suggest you do the same. Keep that morale up, like I told you to.”

She gave him a smile before she turned and headed back towards the main part of the camp.

Steve stood stock still, his mind whirring and digesting what the fuck had just happened, before he shook his head, and jogged after her, once more acquiescing to her instructions.

***** Whilst there may not have been much deep sleeping going on, there was certainly plenty of rest and refuelling undertaken so to speak, and at first light the next morning Steve gathered Katie, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones, Morita and Falsworth in the back of one of the trucks to discuss their plan going forward, leaving Bucky to sleep as long as he could. He’d fast taken a liking to the five men having heard from various other men about how they’d organised the troops at the base, and his first-hand experience of how they’d been during the night around their makeshift camp. Plus Katie trusted Dum-Dum and Steve trusted her, so it was good enough for him.

Katie and Falsworth had found maps of the terrain buried in the stuff they’d taken from the factory and worked out their distance to the allied camp was approximately ninety-five miles as the crow flies. They had further estimated that, given the state of the men and the fact that were going to have to skirt around various battles that were still raging on, they would probably average between twenty to twenty-five miles a day, meaning it would take them at least four to get back.

They had trucks, a tank, enough supplies to keep them going for a few days, and Dum-Dum stated the obvious, that Steve could go on a head, alone, and be much faster if needs be. But that wasn’t something he wanted to do, plus as Katie rightly pointed out, he would be number one on HYDRAs radar right now. The last thing they needed was to lose him because, as blunt a point as it was, that was just the type of thing Schmidt would need to keep the heat off the fact they had just lost one of their factories.

Then there was the fact that Steve simply didn’t want to leave them behind. They were his men now, he wanted to stay with them, make sure they made it back together. Leaving them would be an absolute last resort.

They split into groups, heading round the camp to spread the word about the plan and instruct the men to be ready to leave as soon as Steve gave the signal, and the Captain took the opportunity to head into the tent were Bucky was resting. He was pleased to see his friend looked a hell of a lot better than he had the previous night, sat on the edge of the make shift cot which had been fashioned out of a number of broad topped crates and blankets, rolling down his sleeve as one of their medics had just administered another shot of penicillin.

“How you feeling, Buck?” Steve asked, stepping into the tent and to the side to allow the other solider to leave, giving him a salute as he passed.

“Like I’ve been run over by a Panzer.” Bucky grumbled and Steve gave a small smile. Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, just got a-“

“I know.” Steve cut him off. “I got the low-down.”

“Stark?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet that’s not all you got.” Bucky smirked and Steve rolled his eyes letting out a groan. “Don’t go gettin’ all coy on me, Stevie.”

“I’m not being coy.” Steve protested and Bucky let out a bark of a laugh.

“Course not.” Bucky pulled on his boots and bent to lace them. “You gonna tell me yourself or do I need to go huntin’ for gossip?”

“There’s nothing to tell, lay off, Buck.”

Bucky snorted. “I don’t even have to look at you to know you’re lying, you’re that bad at it.”

“It’s, well, it’s a little complicated.” Steve attempted to placate him but Bucky finished lacings his boots and looked up at him, hands resting on his knees.

“You like her?”

“Of course I do…”

“She like you?”

Steve blushed and his hand rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, I mean…”

“Well then, what’s complicated about it?” Bucky shrugged.

“In case you hadn’t realised we’re not exactly here under normal circumstances.” Steve arched an eyebrow.

“All the more reason not to waste any time, Punk.” Bucky stood up, cracking his neck side to side. “Who knows how long we’ve got.”

Steve’s brow raised a little as he looked at Bucky, letting out a sigh. “You sound like her.”

“Well she clearly talks sense, you should listen.” Bucky smirked, taking a step towards him. “So, Captain, what’s the plan?”

“You asking me about Katie now or…” Steve quipped and Bucky grinned, slapping his shoulder.

“Steve, you clearly aint got a plan when it comes to that Dame, so there’s not point askin’ ya ‘bout it is there?” He drawled and Steve sighed, giving him a look. “No, I mean to get us out of this Godforsaken shit hole and back on friendly territory. You do have a plan, right? I mean I hear you always got a plan nowadays.”

Steve groaned as Bucky’s mouth curled up into a huge grain and he shook his head.

“Still a pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled and Bucky shrugged before he took a deep breath.

“But seriously, what are we going to do?”

“We’re getting ready to move out.” Steve’s hands dropped to the buckle on his belt. “We got approximately a hundred and twenty or so kilometres to cover. Gonna be hard but…” Steve popped a shoulder before he studied Bucky as he let out a huge, chest-wracking cough. “You can ride in one of the trucks.”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“You’re clearly not.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“There are men far worse off than me, this is just an infection, I’ll be fine. Dare say fresh air and walking will do me good.”

At that Steve let out a snort. “Yeah, just like it used to do me good, huh?”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

“Damned it, Steve, stop being an asshole.” Bucky shot back, glaring at him. “I’m telling you I’m fine. Coped with more in that base than you could even begin to imagine, a coupla day’s hike will be easy in comparison.”

As soon as the words were out of his friends mouth, Steve noticed him look away, clearly cursing himself for his outburst.

“What did they do to you?” Steve asked gently. Bucky swallowed and turned to Steve, shaking his head.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I was out of it for the most but they, well I can remember them sticking me with needles and then there were all these bright lights and…” He trailed off. “It hurt.”

Steve took a deep breath and stepped forward, his hand curling round his friend’s shoulder but Bucky shrugged him off. “Don’t.” He looked at him, his eyes fierce. “Just don’t.”

Steve moved back, holding his hands up in front of him, palms out in a conciliatory manner. “Okay.”

There was a moment’s silence, and then they were aware of voices and Steve turned to see Katie step into the tent.

“Everyone’s moving, St-I mean Captain.” She smiled and Steve felt his cheeks flushing as he was well aware that Bucky was watching him carefully.

“Yes, Ma’am. Be with you in a moment.”

She nodded then her gaze flicked to Bucky who shot her a dazzling smile. “S’up Doll Face?”

“You’re looking better than you were yesterday, Barnes.” Katie smirked a little at his familiar nature and he shrugged, flashing her a wink.

“Takes a lot to keep me down, Darlin’”

“I don’t doubt it.” She grinned, before her eyes locked with Steve’s again and she turned, and left.

“Damned, Steve.” Bucky whistled through his teeth. “The first girl who actually lays her peepers on you, and she’s an absolute dish.”

“Piss off, Bucky.” Steve shot back and Bucky once more laughed, shaking his head before he gave a loud, exaggerated sniff and wiped dramatically at his eyes.

"My boys all grown up,” he spoke in a theatrical emotional voice, before he swept from the tent leaving Steve glowering at his back.

*****

After a near miss with a hostile unit on the first day of their journey, Steve took the informed decision to only move under the hours of low light and darkness. He was keen to keep any confrontations to a minimum given the exhausted and weak state of many of the men he was leading. After discussions with the group of seven who were fast becoming the ones he was turning to most for advice and support, they all conceded that whilst moving at night made it almost impossible they would be spotted by any air-borne allied surveillance, it was the best chance they had at keeping casualties to a minimum.

They kept to the less worn roads as much as they could, sometimes having to split up if the vehicles couldn’t make it a certain way, but thanks to the variety of skills the group had, along with Katie’s unbelievable sense of organisation, it seemed to work. By the third day they were almost three quarters of the way there by their estimations anyway.

“St-I mean, Cap?” Katie’s voice hit his ears and Steve turned to face her where she was walking a little behind with Dum-Dum, rifle in her arms. “I think we’ve got about an hour or so before daylight, we should probably be looking for somewhere to make camp.”

Steve looked up at the sky, his eyes straying to the horizon which he could just see through the valley they were set to make their way between and she, as always, was right. The first slivers of daylight were peeking through the dark, tendrils of orange and pink snaking through the sky.

He turned back to her. “Do we stop before or after the Valley?”

“If you want my advice,” Dum-Dum cut in, “I’d say before. If we get caught down there, Cap, we’re sitting ducks. Best chance is after nightfall.”

Katie nodded to show she agreed, and Steve took a deep breath. He was keen to press on as much as he could, and had been hoping to make it through the last line of hills before they stopped. But, he knew they were right and they’d covered a lot of ground over the last march. As luck would have it, the nights were longer than the days due to the season so, despite the fact it was cold and the weather wasn’t particularly kind to them, it worked to their advantage.

“Okay, let everyone know. Jones, Dernier, can you guys get up high,” he nodded to the hill face a little to his right, “see if you can spot anywhere that might be safe to set up camp.”

“Sure thing.” Jones nodded, and Dernier gave a little salute as the two men took off silently.

Steve declined the canteen of water Katie offered him and she gave him a stern look, her arm remaining outstretched. With a roll of his eyes and quirk of his eyebrow he took it, his fingers brushing hers and he frowned.

“You’re freezing.”

“Soon warm up once we’re round a fire.” She shrugged. “Now drink, enhanced or not, you need to keep hydrated.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He quipped, causing her to roll her eyes, but he didn’t miss the smirk on her lips as she turned to Dum-Dum when he asked her if she wanted him to run down the line and set the communication chain off.

“How you feeling?” Steve moved over to where Bucky had settled, perched on a flat rock jutting out from the side of the mountain face, his legs dangling over the edge.

“Peachy keen, Stevie.” Bucky looked at him and Steve snorted as Bucky leaned back. “Nah, I’m good, Pal. Feel a lot better. Turns out your Ma did know what she was talking about, fresh air can clear your lungs.”

“Yeah, shame there wasn’t much to be found in a cramped, inner Brooklyn city.” Steve smirked and Buck chuckled.

“True.” He bit the inside of his lip as he looked down at his hands. “Do my folks think I’m dead?”

The question caught Steve off guard a little and he frowned, sitting down next to his friend. “You were MIA assumed lost so I suspect they’ve been informed of that. But don’t worry about it, once we’re back you can get a telegram to them, assure them you’re okay.”

“Okay.” Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “Whatever that means.”

“I thought you just said you felt good?” Steve looked at him and Bucky shrugged.

“I do.”

Before Steve could dig further into whatever the hell Bucky meant, a crunch of feet on gravel to his left made him spring to his feet, but it was only Jones and Dernier back from the scouting mission.

“There’s a break in the rock formation, bout half a mile or so further. Reckon it’s a good place to form base. Plenty of spots in and around to hide. Bad news is the vehicles are going to have to go around once we set off again. It’ll take them off course a little but we’ll meet them again about two or three miles through the valley.”

“Thanks, Jones.” Steve nodded. “Get the news down the chain.”

It wasn’t long before they’d found the spot Jones and Dernier had been referring to, and everyone moved around quickly, like a well-oiled machine, establishing the base camp. Thanks to the natural shelter of the terrain, not as many tents this time were required, but Steve insisted, as always, that Katie got her own.

Soon some form of soup was cooking, water was being handed out along with what was left of some sweet liquor that they’d also liberated from camp and soft chatter rang out across the troops. The walking wounded were being treated once more for the night and Steve took the chance to walk around, talking to as many people as he could.

Once he was sure everyone had been fed, he took a helping for himself and settled down round one of the small fires where Bucky was sat with Katie and the other five men that had all formed a close bond. He ate, not really paying attention, until Dum-Dum loudly lamented that his facial hair was getting out of control and Katie snorted.

“You’re not going to find many barbers round here.” She shook her head. “Besides, it all adds to the well-worn rugged look.” She glanced at Steve before she smirked. “Even Cap’s sporting a good layer of stubble.”

At that Bucky laughed. “Makes a change, huh pal. You know he once didn’t shave for a week, looked just as smooth at the end of it as he had at the start.”

Steve groaned, as chuckles rang out at his expense, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his chin. “Yeah, well, things are different now-“

“No shit”

“- and it seems to grow pretty fast.”

“Were there no razors at all in the stuff we took?” Falsworth asked and Katie pondered.

“There’s some toiletries but no many, that said I can’t say I’ve looked. Why are you bothered?”

“I like to keep up appearances.” Monty looked at her. “Plus, regulations state we should either be clean shaven or sporting a full, groomed moustache…”

“Yeah, come on Lady Lieutenant, surely you know that?” Dum-Dum looked at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Katie shrugged. “Well, yeah, but who’s gonna tell?”

“Well, I like to take pride in my appearance.” Dum Dum shrugged. “Something you’ll understand”

“What, because I’m female?”

“Are you? Hadn’t noticed.” Dum Dum’s eyes twinkled in the light of the fire as a Katie rolled her eyes.

“Steve has.” Bucky quipped causing them all to laugh as Steve gave an exasperated sigh, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment spread up his neck and his cheeks.

“Well, if you’re all vain enough to be that bothered, go raid the supplies.” Katie leaned back, resting on her elbows, legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. “Good luck trying to shave in the dark though, without a mirror.”

As the night went on, one by one the men peeled off to take their rest or sentry duties, leaving Steve, Katie and Bucky alone round the fire. They chatted for another hour or so before Katie told them she was going to hit the hay.

She stood up, stretching before she reached out for one of the tins in the fire, wrapping her hand in her sleeve so as not to burn herself as she took the heated water. “Oh, and don’t tell the others, but if you guys want help, so to speak, with the old,” she pointed at her face, drawing a circle in the air, “I’ll do it for you. Just give me five minutes to wash up first.”

Steve watched her go before he turned to Bucky who was eyeing him shrewdly.

“You taking her up on that?” He asked and Steve frowned.

“She was joking.”

“I don’t think she was.” Bucky smirked. “In fact I’m pretty sure that was a ploy to get you to follow her.”

Steve sighed, “if that was true, why did she invite you?”

“Jesus, Stevie, you’re so clueless. She did that so it isn’t obvious.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “If both of us go into her tent, it looks a lot let suss than if you or I go in alone. Well, that is, unless everyone thinks we’re having some form of threesome that is.”

Steve grimaced before he took a deep breath, turning to Bucky. “No offence, but you’re not my type.”

“Ouch.” Bucky smirked as Steve stood up. “Oh, are we going now? Damned, you’re keen.”

Steve shot him another look before he turned and strode after Katie, Bucky hot on his tails.

Katie simply laughed as they entered her tent and told them both to sit on the make shift bunk she had before she disappeared and came back with a cut throat and what little else she could salvage from the supplies.

“Who’s first?” She brandished the razor and her eyes fell to Bucky.

“Trust you with a cutthroat?” He looked at her and she placed her hands on her hips.

“I do this for Howard all the time.”

“No offence, Doll Face, but I'd rather jump on a grenade.”

“Steve already did that.” Katie quipped.

Bucky turned his head slowly to face him. “What happened to not doing anything stupid till I got back?”

“It was a dummy.” Steve shook his head.

“You didn’t know that.” Katie grinned and Bucky snorted.

“A dummy?” He grinned “That’s definitely stooped, with two os.”

“Hey, in my defense it was very realistic.” Steve pouted. Katie chuckled and looked at him, and Steve felt the heat in his neck rising as the memories of that night came flooding back. And from the look on her face she was recalling them too. She stood there, simply looking at him, biting her lip a little, before she gave a yelp.

“Ow!” She raised her finger to her mouth, sucking at where she’d just nicked it on the razor.

“Yeah, now I’ll definitely pass.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he stood up. “You kids behave.”

Katie watched him sweep from the tent before she turned to Steve. “Something I said?”

Steve laughed and rubbed at his neck as she grinned and held up the razor. “What about you, Soldier? Do you trust me with a potentially fatal weapon at your throat?”

“I trust you with my life.” Steve replied immediately and the cheeky grin on her face turned to a soft smile as she stepped forward, folding the razor and slipping it into her pocket.

“Little naive that, Stevie, considering we haven’t known each other that long.”

Steve shrugged. “I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Sure you are.” She smiled, before she moved and dipped her hand into the tin of warm water. “Head back, Captain.”

Steve obliged and she wet his face as best she could, the pads of her fingers brushing against his stubble before she then worked the bar of soap into a lather, massaging it against his chin and cheeks. Steve’s gaze was on her face the whole time as she concentrated, his hands flexing on the edge of the thin bunk which was made out of a couple of the supply crates.

“This isn’t going to be as close as I’d like.” She mused.

“Are we talking about the shave now or…” Steve looked at her and her eyes met his and she shook her head.

“Yes, I mean the shave.” She chuckled. “I can see Barnes is rubbing off on you already.”

Steve smiled as she dipped her hands back in the tin and wiped them on her jacket, before pulling the razor back out.

“Ready?”

“All yours.”

“Are we talking about the shave or-“ She teased, playing his words back to him and Steve held her gaze, her eyes flashing as he took a deep breath.

“What do you want me to be talking about?”

There was a moment’s pause and she dropped her head, swallowing before she looked back up at him. “How many other girls you said that to, Rogers?”

“One or two. In each location, I met a lot on the USO tour.” He teased as she gently titled his head back with her fingers.

“That so?” She mused, swiping the razor down his cheek in a clean, sweeping arc. “Maybe I should carve my name into you.”

Steve smiled.

“Stay still.” She instructed. “Although, I feel I should warn you, if you are mine, I don’t like people touching my stuff.”

“I’d kinda figured that one out.” Steve spoke softly as she swept the blade down his cheek again, washing it in the tin before she moved to the other side. As she stepped across him, his hands fell to the side of her thighs as she continued, her tongue poking through her lips in concentration, before she stepped behind him, his head falling back so she could move down his throat.

The tent was silent, Steve simply watching as she worked, momentarily lost. No woman had ever done this for him before, bar his mother, and that had been when he’d been too sick or sore to do it himself. But this, there was something so incredibly intimate, so innocent, so pure, so ridiculously sensual that he found himself torn between wanting to close his eyes, surrendering completely to her ministrations, and watching her as she worked. As it happened, he did both, shutting his eyes for a moment as she gently moved across his jaw before his eyes opened to focus on her pretty face, as she bent a little nearer and he swallowed.

Eventually she finished and moved round to look at him, tossing the razor into the tin as she smiled.

“There. Almost as good as new. It’ll do until we get back.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart.” Steve ran his hand over his now reasonably smooth face and took a deep breath, before he reached out, his hands taking hers. “Look, maybe, if I mean we actually make it home and get leave or whatever, me and you could, you know, perhaps go out?”

“You asking me on a date?” She smiled, and his face creased into a grin.

“Guess I am, yeah.”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her hands tenderly cupping his strong jaw, his own gripping at her hips, fingers flexing at the roughness of her uniform. Eventually she broke away and pressed her forehead to his, taking a deep breath.

“I really do need to wash up and hit the sack.” She sighed, her voice almost an apology but Steve didn’t mind. Whilst they’d already crossed that line in a way, this was fast becoming a little more serious. Yes, Bucky was right, they had no idea how long they had, but for the time they did have, he was going to at least try and do it properly.

And bunking up again, on a pile of hard crates in the middle of some god-forsaken mountain trail was not proper. His mother would kill him.

Nodding to show he understood, he rose to his feet, his hands cupping her face as he placed a soft kiss to her lips.

“Night, Doll. Or Morning, whatever.” He smiled and she gave a little laugh as he stepped back, heading to the door of the tent. With a final look over his shoulder, he swept the flap at the front open and left to find somewhere to lay his own head for a rest.

*****

Dawn had broken on the fifth day by the time they approached the camp gates. As Steve led his platoon over the brow of the hill he felt an overwhelming sense of relieve as he saw the barrier and the men guarding it. His sharp eyes picked up one of them holding up a set of binoculars before he harshly slapped them into the palm of his partner, before setting off at a sprint back into the camp.

As they walked towards the blockade, the vehicles rumbling behind them, Steve turned to Bucky, giving him a smile which was met by one from his friend before he felt a smaller hand slide into his, giving a quick squeeze to his palm. He turned to his right and glanced down at Katie who looked up at him, her tired face bearing a look of utter relief.

The gate was raised to allow them entry into the camp, people rushing towards them, staring in awe. Soldiers began to greet their comrades, and Steve could feel the sheer outpouring of emotion as people greeted the brothers in arms they had obviously never expected to see again.

“Here he comes…” Steve heard Katie mutter and he looked up to see Colonel Phillips pushing through the group. Steve simply continued marching forwards, drawing to a halt in front of the man, offering him a crisp salute.

"Some of these men need medical attention." Were the first words he offered the Colonel and somewhere someone shouted for a medic. Steve continued to look at Phillips with a knowing expression and took a little breath in through his nose. "I'd like to surrender myself for disciplinary action."

The Senior Officer’s lips pressed together into a thin line and Steve could see him mulling things over, no doubt trying to decide whether to rip into him or praise him. In the end, he did neither.

"That won't be necessary." Phillips said simply, which Steve knew was going to be as close to a well done as he was going to get.

The Captain just about managed to refrain from smiling, as the slightest hint of a smirk twitched at his lips. "Yes, sir."

With that, Colonel Phillips turned to look at Katie. “You okay, Agent Stark?”

“Peachy, Sir.” She nodded before she gave a little snort. “Although I expect I won’t be once Howard gets hold of me.”

“Well considering he thinks you’re dead, I expect this will be a rather pleasant surprise.” Phillips arched an eyebrow and Katie looked down at the floor, swallowing. “Don’t worry, I’ll make the call so you don’t have to.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Steve watched as the Colonel turned to leave the group, stopping as he noticed Agent Carter standing to the side, looking rather smug for want of a better word.

"Faith, huh?" Phillips looked from Agent Carter to Steve and Katie, before shaking his head slightly and heading off towards the tents.

Peggy took a deep breath before she moved, stopping as she drew herself up to full height in front of Steve and Katie before she arched an eyebrow, her eyes flicking between the pair of them.

“You’re late.” She quipped as she locked eyes with Katie who snorted. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken transponder.

“Couldn’t call our ride.” He smiled back and Peggy looked at him, shaking her head slightly, her lips curling up into a smile, before she turned back to Katie and then all professionalism left her and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms round the other woman.

“We’ve been so worried.” She whispered, and Steve turned away, not wanting to intrude on their moment, even though his super sensitive hearing made it impossible to tune out of their conversation.

“You’re not the only one.” Katie replied, and Steve heard her voice crack a little and before he could stop himself he’d reached out, his right hand curling over her left shoulder. In what appeared to be an automatic response, Katie had reached up, her arm crossing over her chest to allow her fingers to briefly tangle in his and give them a squeeze.

Agent Carter merely raised her eyebrow further, that smirk on her face growing wider before Bucky’s loud voice rang out to Steve’s left.

"Let's hear it for Captain America!”

As the cheers rang round the camp, Steve allowed himself a little moment to bask in the genuine feel good factor that seem to have flooded the place at their return. It was self-indulgent, slightly egotistical, a little arrogant even, but at that moment in time, as he glanced down at Katie who was watching him, a broad smile on her face before her top teeth bit her bottom lip as she blatantly eyed him up and down, he couldn’t have cared less.

****

Chapter 7

#stark spangled rebirth #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #chris evans #chris evans characters #mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu fan fic

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chocosvt · 4 years

Text

⚬ pairing: junhui x reader ⚬ word count: 8125 ⚬ warnings: none! ⚬ genres: secret relationship, some slice of life uni moments, FLUFF, very light angst, spice, roommates!wonhui.

✧✎ synopsis: you’re friends with junhui - but also, not really. it’s friends and a little bit more than that. it’s difficult keeping your relationship a secret, especially when you’ve never loved someone the way you love him.

✧✎ a/n: NOBODY MOVE! I WROTE A JUN BDAY FIC ;_; this is really just me projecting all my years of love onto a word doc. enjoy!!

It was midnight, and the apartment was dark, unmoving. No one had bothered to clean the blue cereal bowl left in the sink and there remained bread crumbs on the countertop from lunch. As you flicked through the strange glimpses of late-night television, yawning in an outrageous width, there was a hunger pang, accompanied by an immediate craving for some sort of sweet candy.

So, you did what seemed best: fit into your sneakers and a windbreaker and push open the door to Jun’s bedroom while he was curled up on his side watching his drama. Wonwoo would usually be occupying the adjacent bed, though he had stayed over at Joshua’s dorm to study for his next history summative. Yet he’d left his beat-up, decaying textbook on his pillow.

“Put on your slippers or something, we’re going to the convenience store.”

Jun didn’t say anything, rather he continued holding out his phone, the bedsheets pulled taunt to his nose. Looking at Jun’s desk that sat next to the door, you picked up the rubber band ball he’d been adding to since his twelfth-grade year and threw it at his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squeaked dramatically. His head then poked over his shoulder as he attempted to see where the ball rolled off to.

“Put on your slippers,” you reiterated, “I want strawberry tangs.”

Without much effort, Jun quickly gave up looking for the elastic ball and returned to watching his drama, establishing his comfort while somehow still persisting to ignore you. He was very much so a homebody, and if it weren’t for you guiding him out the apartment like a grandchild taking their elderly for an afternoon walk, then he might’ve never left his bedroom apart from his class schedule. Yet, you knew exactly how to persuade him, weaken his heart that was already soft and golden.

An immediate whine rumbled in his throat when you jumped on the bed, pulling at him until he finally rolled onto his back, at last pressing pause on his phone. You tossed a thigh over each side of his silhouette and gripped the boy’s wide shoulders, gazing unflinchingly past his black fringe and into those big, glistening eyes.

“Come with me to the store,” you weren’t sure if you were offering or demanding, “please?”

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

“Walking around alone at night? Hello? Do you have no concern for me?” Came your joking counter.

He tossed his head back, the black fringe bouncing from his lashes. His capitulating yelp of, “fine, fine, I’ll come” was satisfactory enough for you to remove yourself from the boy’s tiny waist, where you stepped on the floor and nearly sprained your ankle due to that dumb, elastic ball. At least you found it. While you returned the toy to his desk, Jun quickly threw a worn jean jacket over his black long sleeve and didn’t bother bending down to fix his sneakers, his heels jutting out the back.

At the convenience store, the only shoppers were you, Junhui, and this lady wearing a huge pair of sunglasses, though you figured she was far from the strangest of the midnight stragglers.

It was rather quiet, even with the fluorescent lights buzzing and the battery-powered fan keeping the cashier cool at the register. You grabbed the first package of strawberry tangs while Jun sorted through the other flavours very meticulously.

“What about blue raspberry?” He said. “You don’t want that?”

“I don’t know, I just really have a craving for strawberry.”

Jun detached a bright green package from the rack. “Sour apple? What about that?”

“Not tasty at all. Pass.”

He grabbed another package and quirked his eyebrow. “Sweet cherry? Come on. That sounds good.”

You lightly hit his arm with the strawberry candy, your laughter echoing over the shelves, “I just want strawberry! If you think the sweet cherry sounds good then you buy it!”

But Jun just shook the black fringe from his playful gaze, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tangy zangys are the bottom tier of gummy candy. No way.”

“So shut up then.” The words were harsh, yet your smile was no more menacing than a butterfly.

Since it would be impossible for Jun to leave the store without stocking his snack collection, you shopped for longer than expected, filling a basket with spicy chips and hard candies and a few chocolate bars. Heading home down the nighttime street, beneath the moonlight, the infinite expanse of a blackness that felt like a cocoon, you had already ripped open your strawberry tangs while Jun tore the corner off a tiny pouch of bubblegum poprocks.

They crackled loudly on his tongue, in which he made sure to hover in close proximity to your ear, ensuring you could detect every small fizzle. Each time it warranted you to shove him away, muttering a cheap laugh about how it wasn’t required that he lean in so generously, though you couldn’t evade that one nervous thought ticking at the back of your head: you wanted to kiss him, wrap your palm around Jun’s neck and taste the electric bubblegum from his heart-shaped mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me?” You asked, suckling the sugar off a red candy strip.

Jun swallowed his poprocks. “I guess you can word it like that.”

Standing at the living room fish tank, you opened the tab to the flake box and shook the food into the water, your pink guppy who you had so fittingly named, Princess Pebble, swimming toward the surface in order to nip at the flakes. Wonwoo observed you from his seat at the kitchen table, dragging his spoon through the remainder of his cereal, scooping out the last soggy pieces.

“I feel good about it,” Wonwoo hummed, referring to the history test he wrote yesterday, “I think I might’ve left out some information on the essay question.”

You closed the fish flakes and returned to the table, where you left your cup of tea.

“Eh, who cares,” you mumbled behind the rim, “you’re gonna get like a ninety-five anyways.”

The boy shrugged, pressing a fingertip to his glasses, moving them higher up his nose. He had always been diligent with his studying, though he often left the apartment to write notes at the library or a classmate’s dorm. It was difficult to accomplish much when Junhui would distract him, and rather than reading his textbook, Wonwoo would always end up playing computer games with the latter.

“Did you hear Jun come home last night?” You asked, gulping the rest of your tea.

Wonwoo set his bowl into the sink and filled it with water, smiling. It irked you somehow. You were only curious about whether or not he heard Jun return from his dance practice.

Joining him at the sink to clean your mug, you bumped his elbow. “What’s so cute over here?”

“Nothing,” he hummed dismissively, “I heard him crawl into bed, that’s pretty much it.”

“And that’s funny or something?”

“You ask about him quite frequently.” Wonwoo turned to you with a suspecting glance, one that made you subtly desire to dump a cup of water over his head. “You know that, right?”

The morning air was cool, yet your face felt immensely heated, almost prickling.

“I ask because we’re fri—”

“Friends. Yeah, yeah.” Wonwoo huffed, the omniscient smile creeping back toward his mouth, to which you could do nothing apart from gawk at your roommate despite his reiteration of a musing that wasn’t at all unfamiliar. “I’ve always loved you for your innate sense of comedy. It’s priceless.”

It’s what everyone assumed anyways. You and Jun fought tooth and nail to articulate your friendship, to paint with the colours that would lead everyone to believe it was true. Most often your explanations worked, yet there remained some who were particularly stubborn. Wonwoo was an evident case. But he was too close, too eagle-eyed, and he saw that you and Jun behaved in a manner completely beyond friendship. Despite the likewise feelings, something unbeknownst kept you apart.

“I know exactly what that means, idiot!” Echoed your shout as Wonwoo disappeared down the corridor, hoping to take refuge in his bedroom.

“I’m glad!” The depth of his voice reverberated into the kitchen, and you heard his door quickly shut.

No less than a few seconds later did Junhui reveal himself from around the corner, clean and freshened up after a steamy shower, one he desperately needed upon immediately passing out, sweat-soaked and exhausted in his bed the night before. Soonyoung definitely hadn’t taught their lesson with any degree of ease. Pretending you weren’t just quipping at Wonwoo, you smiled.

��Were you two fighting?” Jun asked, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. He usually whipped together an omelette for breakfast.

“No, not at all. We never fight, remember?”

Jun scoffed while opening the fridge, removing an egg carton and a plastic wrapping filled with vegetables. Still hungry, you started peeling open a tangerine from the fruit basket and stood next to him as he organized the produce onto a cutting board. Ever so faintly, you could smell the crisp scent to his aftershave. It was peculiar how a bit of foam could render your chest that cottony.

“In fact, when’s the last time you even remember an argument Wonwoo and I had?” You prodded.

“Two days ago,” Jun laughed, “when Wonwoo wanted to watch that exploration documentary on King Tut, but you changed the channel so you could finish the last season of Home Makeover.”

Pressing his rose lips together, Junhui casted you an innocent glance. “So there’s that.”

Separating a small slice of tangerine, you gently pushed the clove into the boy’s mouth. He smiled softly as he began to chew. With the gentle tang of citrus in the air, you set a hand on Jun’s shoulder and buried your face against his warm neck, whispering, “yeah, and it was definitely worth it.”

Quite frankly, neither you, Jun, Wonwoo, or Joshua were fairing optimally at the library. While Wonwoo sat on the opposite side of the table helping Joshua organize his economics presentation, you were neglecting your biology packet, instead choosing to sketch a tiny Princess Pebble in the paper’s upper corner. Jun had been tasked with reviewing his latest theatre script, yet he hadn’t even flicked through it. He was intrigued by one of the numerous mangas he’d saved to his phone.

“Take the last point off here,” Wonwoo said, peering over Joshua’s shoulder at his laptop, “there’s too much text, and this isn’t a major branch of your topic anyways.”

Joshua sighed as he made a few clicks on his keyboard. “Dude, I don’t think I can edit another word. This class is so boring.”

“Mr. Canning is just a boring professor,” Wonwoo sympathized, “it would be best if it were someone who weren’t so… dry. I guess is the right word.”

Slumping back in his chair, Joshua huffed, “he’s like a human chalk stick.”

Desperate to discuss something that wasn’t related to his lacklustre econ class, Joshua spared a glance at Jun’s unopened script. “Shouldn’t you be learning that?” He asked.

Jun didn’t look away from the phone in his lap. “I can’t do it here.”

“That means he’s going to open it for the first time at one in the morning, the day of his performance.” You chuckled, outlining the sketch of your guppy using Wonwoo’s pink gel pen.

Harshly, Jun’s hand smacked your knee under the table and you couldn’t help but laugh, garnering an over-the-shoulder glare from a student in the corner who’d been trying to focus on their colossal textbook. Wonwoo smiled at them apologetically while Joshua feigned as though he were typing something on his laptop. However, Jun’s hand didn’t leave your knee, and your laughter became an immediate drought, to which the sole thing you could feel was his palm creeping higher up your leg.

Attempting to be subtle, you turned your head slightly and looked at the boy with a bit of a warning expression, though Jun simply continued to scroll through his manga.

“I’m going to check the world history section,” Wonwoo announced, rising from the table, “anyone want to come with?”

Joshua pushed out his chair. “I’ll come just so I don’t have to stare at this shitty powerpoint.”

As soon as the boys walked beyond earshot, you pinched the edge of Jun’s ear. He finally tossed his phone onto the table, though he didn’t exactly appear compassionate, rather he was smirking, for he knew if you truly didn’t want his hand touching your leg then you would have bumped it away.

“You can’t do that.” Nonetheless, there surmounted a need to establish some insignificant boundary, one that neither of you were going to follow through. “Not when they’re so close.”

“But they didn’t see.” Jun replied, squeezing your inner thigh. “It shouldn’t matter.”

“It does. What if Joshua saw?” At that point, Wonwoo was fairly conditioned to your lingering fingertips, grazes and stares. He usually pretended not to notice them. However, Joshua was a risk.

Jun shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you worry too much? I always touch your leg.”

That was the problem. People trying to convince other people that their relationship was wholly platonic didn’t linger in such an intimate way. They didn’t creep fingertips up the other’s inner thigh beneath a tablecloth, or possess a gaze that traced the other’s lips like a delectable piece of candy when they spoke. There shouldn’t be any whispers pressed quickly against the other’s ear when no one else was looking, or the dire urge to climb into the other’s lap when their legs were wide open.

Both of you were afraid. Neither of you wanted to break the question that would thrust your relationship into the light. You kept waiting for the right time, but it always seemed one step ahead.

The movie theatre was nearly empty as the longwinded credit screen continued rolling, the last few congregations throwing their soda cups and empty packages into the garbage on their way out. Still, the floor of practically every row had been scattered with butter popcorn or melted m&m’s, shiny chocolate wrappers left crinkled in the recliners like the employees were supposed to take them home as gifts. Wonwoo put his hands on the back of his head, examining the disastrous rows.

You sensed he was feeling rather lucky about not being scheduled that night. Jun forced himself from the recliner and picked up his cup of fruit punch, jammed with way too many ice cubes.

If no one else was going to comment, you might as well. “That wasn’t the worst.”

“Agreed.” Wonwoo said, pushing up his glasses. “The murderer’s ploy was difficult to follow at times. I started getting confused when he left his car in the woods.”

“What?” Jun gawked. “That’s when you got confused? I didn’t even know what was happening after the first half hour.” His eyes gleamed in astonishment.

“Same.” You admitted. “I guess you’ll have to explain in the car.”

Reaching into the cupholder, you pulled out the package of strawberry tangs with nothing but a tiny amount of the powder-like sugar left inside.

“Thank you for picking up your trash,” Wonwoo sighed, taking the lead down the stairway while the credit music still played, “I’d hate to be working tonight.”

The wide corridor was completely vacant by the time you exited the theatre. Ever so slightly you could hear the galactic sound effects from the arcade machines. That buttery scent of popcorn seemed to waft no matter where you stood in the cinema. Wonwoo announced that he was going to check the concession counter to see who was on cash, but assured he would meet you and Jun at the back exit. Jun hurriedly downed his fruit punch in a large gulp before you emerged into the night.

You were confined to the small overhang by the doorway, for a hard rain was pelting against the concrete and turned the night air considerably cooler. Not one of you had checked the forecast beforehand, and you would undoubtedly get drenched straight through to the flesh in your thin long-sleeve.

“How are we going to make it to the car?” You groaned.

Pulling up his hood, Jun only laughed. “Now is a good time to be able to teleport.” He then stuck out his hand for a moment, the raindrops hitting his palm.

“Does it feel like bullets?”

“No. It feels kind of nice actually.” He remarked.

Curious, you rolled up your sleeve and extended your arm into the downpour. Jun was right, it felt satisfactory as each of the brisk droplets splashed your skin. However, you prematurely discovered the rain wasn’t so appealing when Jun suddenly shoved you from beneath the overhang.

“Hey— what the hell?!” You squealed upon the immediate repercussions, the cold water already leaking through your top while Junhui slapped his thigh, cackling.

Wanting to erase that luminous grin of his, you attempted wrestling the lanky boy into the weather, but no more than a few harmless drops skimmed his shoulder. Yet, with another brute shove, Jun stumbled, feeling the silver needles of rain pour down from the night sky and swirl at his dampening sneakers. He was laughing as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you hard against his chest before you were even cognisant that an immense wetness was soaking through your every article.

You wished it had been indignance drumming in your heart rather than affection, because it was taking every single fibre of your being not to kiss him. As the droplets beaded down his skin, he was like a springtime flower caught in the morning dew, and when he carded back the wet, black hairs plastered to his forehead, you thought it was possible to fall into him and never feel that concrete scrape your knees. Gently, his hand touched the small of your wet back, his breaths deepening.

He urged you in tighter as his tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting the rain.

You were shivering, frigid, though your blood was far too warm to let yourself take note. Instead, you moved your head closer, closer, Jun’s cold palm cupping your cheek and your eyes fluttering shut and your soft mouths just brushing together— until Wonwoo appeared from inside.

Instantly, you two pushed away from each other. With his eyes widening, Wonwoo stuttered.

“I-I’m… I’m going to pretend as best I can that something weird didn’t almost happen.” He stated, swallowing thickly. “Just… Why did you two have to get soaked? You’re sitting in my car, y’know!”

At last, you felt that icy shiver trickle down your spine.

“S-Sorry.” You hummed, teeth chattering.

“I guess it’s fine,” Wonwoo sighed, “I have some towels under the passenger’s seat.”

Not long after returning to the apartment, Wonwoo gathered his laptop and slipped into his pyjamas. He proceeded to flop onto the couch to edit his research paper, though it didn’t take much for his eyelids to start weighing down, his dense paragraphs blurring together on the screen. More often than not you would take advantage of Wonwoo’s midnight crashes in the living room.

After exchanging your damp, terribly cold clothes for a warm t-shirt and sweatpants, you found yourself cozied beneath Jun’s comforter for the umpteenth night. The boy’s head rested against the crook of your neck, where his slow breaths were cool to your skin, though they occasionally became heavier when your fingertips stroked at his smooth hair. He was much like a kitten who loved a thorough scratch behind the ears. You swore that he purred whenever you rubbed the right spot.

Holding out his phone, he’d been finishing an episode of his drama before bed. You tucked some of the black locks behind his ear, noting how much it’d grown over the months. Then your gaze wandered over every detail that shaped his face, as though he were a textured oil painting.

His eyes were always glimmering, seemingly innocent and curious, yet you knew just how much that earthly shade could darken when he fell into his professions. When Jun acted on stage, his gaze lost its untainted nature. It moulded into the role of the sinister characters he preferred playing. When he danced in blazing lights, those eyes were sharp enough to consume, to cut, almost like a razorblade.

But then you studied his lips, his heart-shaped cupid’s bow, the small constellation of moles that dotted his skin like kisses from past soulmates. You thought back to the mist and the rain, his hand resting against the small of your back, how close you were to tasting the flavourful, fruity mix of his drink. In fact, you wondered why you didn’t just kiss Junhui whenever you wanted. What was stopping you, in that moment, from turning his head toward you so that your lips could press to his?

Suddenly, the boy laughed at his phone screen, to which you felt the brassy reverberation erupt in his chest, his eyes glinting and his mouth stretched into a box-like smile. You pulled a few strands of hair from his forehead as he seemed to be glowing, his cheeks rosy.

Jun mewled in surprise when your fingers threaded rather tight through his black locks, feeling you tilt his head up until his gaze was burning into yours.

You didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you kissed him sweet and slow.

Jun’s eyes fluttered as the pressure warmed his mouth, a small whine getting caught in his throat upon the gentle sting of your hand tugging at his tresses, his scalp tingling. His phone sunk into the bedsheets, and instead he was gripping your t-shirt, moving his head with yours as the kiss deepened. He tasted like mint, and his small whines were silky.

How on earth could you have ever shied from kissing him when it felt so relieving? Nothing else held any significance to you apart from making his pretty lips shine.

However, you needed to catch your breath. Releasing the firm grasp on his hair, you detached your mouth from his, your chest rising and falling in great lengths. The boy’s eyes couldn’t be more glazed, his lips shimmering, flushed garnet and slightly swollen. Neither of you uttered a word. The blankets fell from Jun’s shoulders as he straddled your waist eagerly. Again, his mouth slotted with yours, and your hands slid up his caramel thighs, imprinting his flesh with the curve of your fingernails.

If you kept quiet enough, then perhaps Wonwoo would remain asleep until morning.

Standing amongst the crowd in the cramped performance hall, it was inevitable that you would get bumped around like a tiny, flying pinball. After rutting into Wonwoo’s shoulder for the third time, he seemed dauntingly close to losing his indolence and snapping, though he realized it wasn’t your fault that others were pushing toward the front of the stage and bit his tongue.

It became tradition for Soonyoung and his students to rent the downtown performance hall and host a fundraiser. The event typically lasted a few hours, with a few short interludes where the dancers would retreat backstage to catch their breath. Being Jun’s roommate, you and Wonwoo were always granted access into the small dressing room, and though you never admitted it, you loved experiencing that small flash of pride whenever the moonstruck audience watched you slip away.

The next interlude was closing in. Despite the different dancers on stage, you really, truthfully, only watched Jun. Each time he captured the centre position, you couldn’t help but cup your hands around your mouth, being one of the first to cheer overtop the deafening music as he moved so fluidly, with poise. He was a completely different person when he performed. Somehow, his tender-hearted nature would peel back and he’d emerge a domineering beacon.

As soon as the stage ended, an uproar rippled from the audience and resonated deep in your ears, to which you couldn’t help but slightly bury your head against Wonwoo’s shoulder to muffle the cacophony. Nonetheless, you were clapping, smiling, staring fondly as Jun grabbed his collar and fluffed it out, welcoming a slight gust of humid air. His skin was dewy with sweat, and yet he glowed beautifully, even when he was breathing so heavily through his nose.

Soonyoung was speaking into his microphone, but you missed half his speech, and before you knew it you were being dragged by Wonwoo through the crowd toward the backstage entrance. The room was at least big enough to accommodate the dancers. Jun was in the corner, gulping down his water.

“Only three more songs,” Wonwoo smiled, “you guys really stepped the level up this year.”

It took a moment before Jun replied, the column of his neck glittering as he completely crushed the plastic bottle in his hands.

“Yeah,” he burst out, “I’m freaking dying.”

“It’s for a good cause at least.” Wonwoo reasoned, ignoring how you stepped on his foot.

After Jun rolled his eyes, he was staring at you.

The air grew much too thick, and you had to clear your throat. “S-Seriously, you’ve improved so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Thanks,” Jun replied, scratching his nape, “it’s nothing special, really.”

“Uh? Nothing special?” Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t Soonyoung say you’re one of the best in the class?”

When Jun innocently flitted his gaze toward a distant spot and pressed his lips together, Wonwoo merely huffed, announcing he was going to the lobby for a drink of water. You watched him wind between the busy dancers, either wiping down their sweat or fanning themselves, until he disappeared out the door. When you faced Jun again, you looped your fingers through the satin collar of his stage outfit and kissed him quickly, knowing everyone was too occupied to take note.

He squeaked, “what happened to being careful?”

“This is your fault.” You eagerly pinned it on him. “Try being less hot.”

“That’s horrible advice. And also not possible. Which makes it worse than horrible.”

You weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to feel his mouth again or whack the side of his head with his deflated water bottle. Opting for latter, you stole another kiss, though you tensed in surprise when Jun wrapped his arm around your waist to secure your body firm against his. Hastily, you pushed at his toned stomach, your heart drilling manically as you looked over your shoulder toward the dancers. It didn’t appear as though anyone had seen and you breathed out in relief.

Suddenly, Soonyoung poked his head through the doorway.

“Ten minutes!” He shouted before disappearing.

Jun was staring at you with the most ingenious twinkle.

“That was your fault.” He purred, tapping your thigh with his water bottle. “Try being less hot.”

You did feel a small sliver of guilt. After all, Wonwoo had been waiting back at the apartment for approximately an hour, twiddling his thumbs, wondering why you and Jun required so much goddamn time just to buy some hot fudge sundaes. The molten taste of the chocolate, the vanilla ice cream, cold and sweet, was completely stolen from your lips by the boy whose lap you were occupying. Wonwoo’s sundae sat on the dashboard, dripping slowly beneath the evening sunlight.

And yet, that infinitesimal sliver was plucked straight out when Jun latched onto a sensitive patch of your neck, softly digging in his teeth and swirling his tongue. Your fingers sheathed through the black hair and pulled up at the roots, knowing how much pleasure he took from the dull sting. Button by button, Jun started to simultaneously open your shirt, to which you questioned if this was really happening, if you were really going to sort of out the complications of intercourse in his car.

The device abandoned in the passenger’s seat buzzed. You already knew the name to the text. As Jun kissed his way down to your collarbone, licking and suckling, you reached for your phone, feeling it buzz again with another impatient text. The guilt from earlier began to resurface.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] This is suspicious now. WHERE ARE YOU? >:(

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] Actually screw that. WHERE IS MY HOT FUDGE SUNDAE?

The screen blipped with yet another message.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] I know you’re reading these… Answer me or I won’t feed Princess Pebble!!

“J-Jun,” you piped up, hearing his low, husky mumble while he continued to mark your collarbone, “I think we need to go home now.”

The boy splayed a few more open-mouthed kisses against the skin before peeking up at you, his eyes wide and glimmering, lips flushed a deep magenta. With half the buttons of your shirt hanging open and your heart blazing, you had to snip the venereal longing in its bud.

“What’s wrong?” Jun hummed, pushing his fingers through the loops on your jeans. “Who’s texting?”

“Wonwoo. He’s been waiting for almost an hour, and his sundae is gonna be a puddle at this rate.”

He blinked a bit cluelessly, though still in musing. “There’s no way to be quick about this, is there?”

Rebuttoning your shirt, you shook your head and laughed. “Let’s wait before we ruin the car. I’m sure there’ll be a better time in the future.”

Jun nodded in agreement and relaxed back into the seat, a ray of sunshine that bled golden slanting through the windshield. Somehow, Wonwoo’s sundae wasn’t a complete pool sitting in the plastic cup, but that didn’t negate the fact he was still going to start his theory on responsibility and trust the moment you stepped onto the welcome mat. As you finished clasping the last buttons, something had caught Jun’s eye out the window, for he immediately panicked and tightly gripped your waist.

“Oh my god, g-get off my lap,” he grunted, to which your head bumped against the ceiling during the hurried shuffle and your knee whacked the gearstick.

“Ow! Okay, I’m going! Jeez, could you not give me a warning?”

“No,” Jun remarked, looking quickly to the rear-view mirror to straighten out his hair, “it’s Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They just came out of the store.”

When you glanced out Jun’s window, you noted the duo making their way across the parking lot, some plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from Jeonghan’s hand while Soonyoung appeared to be texting someone. To both your dismay, Soonyoung immediately recognized Jun’s car. You watched as the blonde bumped Jeonghan’s shoulder, how they took a slight detour on their way over.

“We have to talk to them?” You whined. “Are you kidding? Lock your window.”

Jun’s brow pinched together. “How is that going to help? They already saw us so just relax.”

“You’re telling me to relax? You practically threw me off your la—”

“Shht,” Jun snapped as the two boys drew nearer, “just shhhhht okay?” And with an incredibly large gulp, he plastered a happy-go-lucky smile to his mouth and let the window slide open.

“Jun?” Soonyoung called, leaning down slightly to peer inside the vehicle. “What’re you doing out here, huh? Back from shoplifting?”

Jeonghan bent down too, grinning snidely. “You looked a little frazzled or something.”

“Me?” Jun pointed at himself. “No, I’m fine. Just – we have to leave. Wonwoo is waiting.”

“Wonwoo?” Jeonghan seemed excited. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Hey, tell him I’m still appreciative for writing my World History paper on the Persian Empire.”

You knew it was best to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help your slight choke. Wonwoo had come home one day saying that one of his classmates offered him seventy-five bucks if he’d write their history paper. He wasn’t going to oblige originally, but cracked after listening to his classmate type out their introduction in the library, that it was just so bad Wonwoo felt piteous and decided to pitch in.

Gaping at Jeonghan, you exclaimed, “that was you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still dropped that class. And Wonwoo definitely thinks I’m a dumbass. But I didn’t have to do a spot of work, and now I’m getting smooth nineties in English. You just have to make up some shit and do a couple fancy indents and you’re set.”

Jeonghan paused, then leaned in a little further to look you up and down. “Y’know, I’ve never seen you before. How easily do you give out your numbe—”

“We really have to go,” Jun interrupted, already clicking the button to roll up the window, “see you at practice, Soonyoung. Bye Jeonghan!”

The two boys didn’t really have any other option apart from stepping back, allowing Jun to exit the parking space and turn onto the road. Not that it would help much, you turned on the air conditioning until it felt like the wind was pure ice, hoping that you’d be able to preserve Wonwoo’s melting fudge sundae. You made sure to text him on your whereabouts, that you were heading home, and churned up a white lie about how you ran into Jun’s friends who held a persistent conversation.

It wasn’t entirely false. And yet, Wonwoo still managed to see through it.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Just say you were making out.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Btw, I fed Princess Pebble.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: I’m not a sinner. Unlike you guys.

Later that evening, after delivering Wonwoo his melted cup of chocolate ice cream, after Jun quickly threw some extra clothes into his backpack and ran to his late-night dance practice, you were standing at the fish tank with some new plants you bought for your guppy. As the bright lights of the tank reflected across your face, there was a strange feeling inside you. It seemed like turbulence, confusion, your heart experiencing one sentiment but your brain thinking another.

You hadn’t realized you were absently standing there until Wonwoo came into the dark living room, holding a crumpled tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. Watching the pink fish swim in between her new seaweed arrangement, he asked you if there was an extra tube stored in your bedroom.

“Don’t think so. Text Jun and ask him to stop at the store when his practice ends.”

“I’ll do that…” Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, you know I already fed Princess Pebble?”

He accompanied you at the tank. For some reason, you refused to look at Wonwoo. You felt unusually vulnerable, like a fragile shell that could be cracked open even by the gentlest hands, and the more you thought into your emotions, the harder your heart started pounding.

“I-I know,” you smiled weakly, “but I got her some new plants today. I just put them in.”

Wonwoo could always tell when something was off-kilter. You almost hated how sharp his senses were, that he was able to detect with such accuracy how you were being eaten up inside. Softly, he touched your shoulder, urged you to turn toward him so he could see the honest colour in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

You felt terrified, but there was no sense in pretending.

“How do I tell Jun that I’m in love with him? That I don’t want us to be a secret anymore?”

It was a weighted question, and you knew that. But it was also the truth. As much as it could be invigorating to maintain a secret relationship, you were beginning to feel the brittle side effects that came with keeping such love behind closed doors. You didn’t want Jun to push you from his lap just because his friends might’ve seen you, nor did you want to keep an eye out for whether or not you should knock his hand off your thigh in public. The secrecy had been fun, but it wasn’t enough.

Scratching the blue collar of his shirt, Wonwoo appeared uncertain.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I just think you shouldn’t repress this. You need to be upfront.”

“How?” It sounded like a desperate plead. “I don’t know how, Wonwoo.”

“Stop overthinking it,” the boy advised, grabbing onto your shoulders and giving your frame a small, grounding shake, “you know Jun. You know he isn’t a rash person. You know if you tell him he’ll hear every word of it. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re all he thinks about.”

Wonwoo brushed at the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t hurt yourself like this, okay? The next time you’re alone, just say how you feel. I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re hypothesizing.”

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded. Overthinking was a poison to you. It shouldn’t be that difficult to be honest, especially when you knew how attentive Jun was, the manner in which he always adapted himself to be of a comforting presence.

“Okay,” you attempted to draw together some confidence, “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” The boy grinned, still fiddling with his empty tube of toothpaste. “It really doesn’t bother me that you guys run around together. Just… please… never do anything weird in my bed.”

The next time you were alone with Jun, it was all but a desirable circumstance. Once you came home from work and heated up some leftover dinner in the microwave, you decided to feed Princess Pebble, though your jaw unhinged as you noticed something a little unorthodox about her tank: a pink blotch floating against the surface of the water. Immediately, the tears welted hot and stinging against your eyes. You had to use the small net to scoop your guppy out from the water.

Remarkably, Princess Pebble had lived a long life for a fish. You remembered walking with Jun to the pet store one summer afternoon, after you two finished your last day of eleventh grade and had just escaped a brutal chemistry exam. Rather than studying beforehand, you spent ample time researching different types of fish, and would often send Jun pictures asking him to choose which one he thought was cutest. Yet, at the end of it all, you chose a guppy with the prettiest pink scales.

“Don’t most people want a puppy? A kitten? And you choose a boring fish.”

Jun had teased, sounding awkward and a bit lisped through his braces.

Somehow, Princess Pebble had managed to live a five-year lifespan. Wonwoo told you most guppies live for two years, three years if the owner takes good care. Sitting at the kitchen table, you placed her body onto a piece of paper towel, the thick tears dripping down your cheeks while your sinuses grew wet and congested. You didn’t know if it was petulant to be your age, crying over a pet fish. In fact, you didn’t even possess the heart to rise from the table and discard her body.

It wasn’t much longer until Jun returned home after his theatre class, to which you heard his key rattling in the lock. Wonwoo was scheduled for a shift at the cinema, most likely handing out overpriced popcorn and chocolate and having to reject every person who asked for his number.

“Hey,” he called, shouldering off his backpack, “Wonwoo texted me. That weird thriller we were looking at is playing next week. We should—,”

Jun paused the moment he heard your runny sniffling. He didn’t realize that your fish was sitting on the paper towel until he took a few steps closer. You felt embarrassed Jun had to see you like this. If you were crying, it had always been over something with a little more gravity, like the time you were distraught about flunking your laboratory practical, and Wonwoo couldn’t persuade you to open your bedroom door no matter how frequently he stood outside, pleading.

Plucking at the collar of your shirt, you used the fabric to clear away the tears. Without a word, Jun grabbed another chair from the dining table and pulled it next to you, scooting in close. As soon as you felt his arm drape around your shoulders, it was like someone had pulled the plug on a bathtub filled with water, to which you pressed your face against his neck and sobbed harder.

“I’m so sorry.” Jun whispered, hugging you tight to his comfortable chest. “It’s okay to be upset. I know how much she meant to you.”

He drew soothing strokes down the back of your head, and he sat with you until those wet pearls ran dry with salt. You knew it wasn’t wise to keep her body out in the air, that you would have to discard her somehow, yet the thought of having to flush her away seemed too cruel. Jun wiped the soft glisten from your cheeks with his sleeve, his fingers then tracing up and down the side of your face.

“I-I don’t want to flush her.” You blubbered.

The boy shook his head. “We won’t do that. We’ll find a good way to handle it.” His thumb brushed tenderly below the fragile skin of your eye for a moment, and he seemed to be in musing.

“Wait here.” He announced, suddenly running into his bedroom.

You could hear Jun shuffling through his closet, moving around clothing hangers and pushing aside boxes still filled with some of his old belongings from homelife in Shenzhen. When he remerged into the living room, he was holding a particular tissue box, one that you hadn’t seen since twelfth grade biology. You, Jun, and Wonwoo had painted and decorated the box as part of an optional project, to see if you could grow any plants from the packets of radish and tomato seeds your teacher had.

Nothing ever grew. Wonwoo claimed there had been some green sprouts when it was his turn to look after the makeshift garden, but that his cat snuck into his room and ate them all. Jun always kept a multitude of random things that dated back to your adolescence. As awkward and bumpy as those times were, seeing the tissue box reminded you that there had been precious moments too.

“Why do you still have that?” You laughed, even if your chest was aching.

“Because that was the first time us three did something together.” Jun said, returning to his seat beside you. “It was one of the first memories I made after moving away from home.”

You fondly looked at Jun while pulling the tissue box toward you, slathered in old, chipping acrylic paint and obnoxious, starry glitter.

Licking the dry salt off your lips, you smiled. “Princess Pebble would love this.”

“It can be her shrine. When Wonwoo comes home, we can find a good place to bury it.” Jun explained. “I know I called her boring five years ago, but I didn’t mean it. I loved her too.”

In the pensive silence, you thought back to your conversation with Wonwoo, recalling his firm grip on your shoulders as he reiterated the importance of freeing your heart, of not bogging yourself down with too many untold truths. Then, you glanced at Jun. You thought about that fluttering feeling when you kissed him, when you ran your fingers through his hair, listening to his deep-chested laughter whenever he gleefully buckled over into your lap after telling one of his hit-or-miss jokes.

The boy tensed slightly as you pulled him into a hug, though he quickly came to ease and warmth. You thanked him, because it just felt like the right thing to do for his compassion.

And then you told him something else.

“I love you.”

Without missing a heartbeat, he murmured against your hair, “I love you too.”

It was late, unreasonably late, the past-midnight late where the entire world falls still like an unperturbed pond. Downtown was completely hushed. Every so often the wind picked up, though it inevitably withered away in between the buildings and emerged a pitiful whistle onto the street. And yet, despite the fact you should be tucked in bed while the moon protected the silence in her silver hands, you were pushing outside the convenience shop with Jun close behind.

He took the end of a straw into his mouth and slurped at the sweet, cherry-flavoured slushie that was beginning to empty. Immediately, he crinkled his forehead and his face contorted.

“How many times have I said not to do that?” You laughed as he passed you the slippery cup.

“I don’t know. Three?” Jun replied with a grimace. “I can really feel it. Wait, I need a moment.”

You stopped next to the traffic post at the end of the street. Jun grabbed at his hair and squeezed like it was some miraculous remedy for curing a brain freeze. Directing the straw into your mouth, you sucked up the cherry syrup and crushed ice until you felt the distant ache thrum inside your head.

“Okay…” Jun concluded, brushing the long, black fringe from his eyes, “I’m good now.”

Thrusting the drink back into his hands, you couldn’t help but huff: “you’re such a baby.”

As though to prove your point, Jun started whining. “My head is so, so cold. It’s freezing.”

“So put this up or something.” You teased, reaching around the back of his neck to pull the boy’s hood over his head. Giggling slightly, you grinned at him as he shot you a questionable glance.

The streets remained quiet, and the sky was remarkably clear, no more than a few ragged and thin clouds drifting over the stars. The last time you had been on this corner, you were licking the strawberry sugar off your fingertips while Jun crumpled his last packet of popping candy. You remembered tracing the rose tint that warmed his lips, each fibre in your muscle twitching because you just wanted to wrap a hand through his locks and kiss him like he was your last breath.

You didn’t understand how you could love one person so much. Why love often fused itself into your bloodstream more than functionality. Your heart knew how to beat, yet it stumbled whenever you gazed at him. Your lungs knew how to filter the air, yet they closed up whenever you caught his eye. Your tongue knew how to articulate, yet it tied itself in a knot the moment he’d touch you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, patting his arm, “can I ask you something?”

Jun looked away from the stars, sipping at his drink again. He nodded.

The moon probably wanted to crush your heart in her hands for how loudly it was thumping.

“What if I told you that I want people to know we’re together? What would you say?”

Despite your anxiousness, you weren’t as afraid as you anticipated. Maybe it was because Jun didn’t immediately sour or attempt to disparage your sentiments. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he blinked at you, but it didn’t matter. When it was most important, Jun picked his words carefully.

“I’d tell you that I want the same thing,” he admitted, his tone deepening and the amber in his cheeks sparked with pink, “that I want people to know how I feel about you… That I’ve always been in love with you.”

You smiled wide, like a kid who just got their braces off. Unable to contain such a rapturous energy, you stepped in close to Jun and held onto his shoulders, dotting the corners of his mouth with small kisses before you pressed your lips against his. You felt him smirk, though it seemed too devious. Jun had suddenly wrapped his arms around your lower back, pushing you in chest-to-chest. You melted as he kissed you, your fingertips ghosting along the soft hairs at his nape, the moonlight on your skin.

When you arrived back at the apartment, you could hear a few of Wonwoo’s gentle snores echo from behind the bedroom door. Just before you slipped away into your own room, Jun left a goodnight kiss to the top of your head, his hand thoughtfully squeezing your hip.

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

You finally knew what you should have said.

“Because I love you.”

✧✎ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET PRINCE!! never would i have imagined that someone who’s on the opposite side of the globe could mean so much to me ;_; mr. moon has been such a healing presence, and it’s bc of him that i have found so much happiness these past five years! whenever i see him smiling and laughing and have good ol times just being himself, all my worrisome thoughts somehow fade away and i feel only joy!!

anyways, i don’t want to ramble for too long (i could really fill a page with my cloying sentiments r.i.p) but i hope this was a wholesome fic!! the stars aligned and for once i was able to write a fic for a member’s birthday :_)

#svt fanfic #jun scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jun fic #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #jun imagine #jun x reader #svt x reader #wen junhui #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #junhui scenarios #jun fluff #junhui fic

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theoriginalladya · 2 years

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WIP Whenever

Got ambushed by, of all my muses, Tadhg when I got home from dropping kiddo off at work. This is set in Caleb's first post-war story in Shannon, Ireland, right before he meets Tadhg for the first time. Tadhg is seven years old...

The war is over, but that doesn’t mean the monsters are gone.

RUN!

A misty fog off the Shannon brings with it a light chill, but he ignores it as he slips deftly between buildings, scampering into the welcome embrace of shadow before creeping down to the opposite end that opens onto the market street.

He’s always been quick on his feet. Muireann often praised him for his agility, calling him fast, nimble. He didn’t think much of it then, but she was impressed enough to give him the job during the Tough Times. Ducking in and out of small spaces easily. Using the shadows to his advantage. Not just finding food for them, but getting away with it. But most importantly, she’d told him he was smart enough not to be seen.

At five years old, that didn’t mean much.

Not until the monsters showed up.

The day they arrived; it took only a few minutes to realize they weren’t going to be safe in the city anymore. He barely made it back to the abandoned warehouse on the outer edge of Shannon they called home, his mission unfulfilled. Darkened skies; shrieks and screams piercing the air – from people, monsters, and the destruction of their city. It took little to convince Muireann they should run.

RUN!

The Irish countryside provided safety, of a sort. Scrounging out there was different from the city, and there were many others besides. But he had the advantage, the knowhow, the skills… and they survived. And when the day came to return to Shannon, their little ‘family’ thought the worst was over.

Just because the war is over doesn’t mean the monsters are gone.

Crouching in the shadows, he keeps his eyes on the crowds in the market, his eyes identifying shadows and spaces, all while ignoring the aching grumble in his belly.

He’s quick – quicker now that he’s older – but not quick enough.

Monsters still exist – in human shapes now to replace the ones from before. The kinds who take what they want, who don’t care about anyone but themselves and kill to get it.

Biting his lip, he focuses his attention on a table halfway down the block where Mr. O’Rourke puts his last touches on the stand for the day. Baked goods of all kinds, tasty treats and morsels. His stand is always the busiest of the many set up here.

He drools as the smell of meat pies, even at this distance, hits his nose. His belly rumbles again.

He hadn’t been quick enough to save Muireann. From the alley on the other side of the street, he watched in horror as she crumpled to the ground like Niamh’s cloth doll, blood spraying from the wound in her side, staining the puddle in which she fell.

And Niamh…

He cringes into himself, eyes closing, hands covering his ears.

It’s been…two days? Three? Her shrill cries piercing the stormy night until a large hand covered her mouth, cutting them off, still haunts his memory. She fought – he saw her fight! – but despite terror fueling her clawing and scratching, she couldn’t break free. She’s too small to fight off the monsters… the monsters he’d promised to keep her safe from.

He chased after them – the man and woman who stole Niamh, who killed Muireann – ran until their car made a turn he missed, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the street, rain bucketing around him and soaking him through. Alone. Hungry.

Determined.

Pushing straggly dark waves out of his eyes, he whispers to the shadows, “I’m coming, Niamh. I’ll find you.”

A clatter echoes through the market; O’Rourke settles a tray on the table.

His lips curve. The meat pies. His favorite.

Slowly, he sips free of the darkness, blending into the mass of humanity surrounding him. HE moves cautiously at first, as if testing, then with more confidence.

No one notices what’s beneath them, not until it’s too late. I’m coming, Niamh…

#WIP Whenever #ladya writes #Caleb Shepard #Tadhg Shepard-Alenko #post war #Shannon Ireland #snippet #OTP: Brothers in Arms

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coffeestainsandcashmere · 3 years

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Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione), Part Four

Well, here’s part four for you! It’s really just part three continued, but since I didn’t want the previous part to be 7k words or so long, I split it up. The total wordcount is 12.4k words now!!

Thank you very much to those of you who’ve commented and sent me lovely owls on here to let me know you’re enjoying it! (this is a sideblog for me, so I don’t respond to comments on posts, but I do answer asks as Cashmere).

I know a lot of folks (me included) don’t like starting to read WIPs that are unfinished, so thanks to those of you who have hopped on now. Consider yourselves honoured beta readers! It’ll go up on AO3 when it’s all posted on here and completed.

No real warnings for this one, just some discussion of their past relationships (for both Hermione and Draco) before the plot thickens and things warm up a bit in part five. Not sure when that’ll go up - it kind of depends on how much feedback I get on this one I guess! Comments and reblogs feed an author’s muse after all.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

___

At her wry smile and tiny shrug, Malfoy laughed, apparently reassured. “A little,” he repeated softly to himself under his breath.

After a heartbeat she shot him a sidelong look and added, “You’ve changed so much, Draco. I can hardly believe it, but it’s clear as day.”

He did a little double take at the sound of his name on her lips, and then he smiled. It was such a tiny, fragile melting of his expression that she nearly missed it.

“I mean it,” she said, tightening her fingers on his steel-cable forearm for a fraction of a second. “I don’t know if it was the war or your marriage, or becoming a father, or something else entirely, but… you’re not the same person you were back at Hogwarts. Not at all.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he hissed. “I had a hell of a lot of growing up to do. I think I did ninety percent of it in the space of sixth year. But Astoria helped steady me after… after Hogwarts and all the bollocks and bullshit of the aftermath of… of… you know.”

“‘Bollocks and bullshit’ is a mighty casual way to say ‘a short stay in Azkaban and three years of house arrest’, Malfoy. That’s got to change a person, for sure.”

He shrugged. “I’m just glad it’s all in the past now. For the most part, anyway.” The silence that followed spoke volumes of the baggage that they were all still hauling around with them, of one kind or another.

They wound their way across the park’s pathways with no particular direction in mind. As the glittering waters of the Serpentine drew into view in the deepening dusk, she murmured, “I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me too,” he said, voice little more than a low rumble above the sussurating wind in the trees. “Theo seemed on fine form, and it was nice to see Pans again. It’s been a few months. Longbottom looks good too,” he added as an afterthought. “He grew into himself, didn’t he?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Never would have called his and Pansy’s relationship though. I thought she went for the bad boys like you and Blaise…”

Malfoy snorted. “I’m a ‘bad boy’ now, am I? That’s an interesting spin on my past.”

“Maybe not so much ‘bad boy’ now as ‘grumpy reclusive Mr. Rochester’. How about that?”

“He one of your Muggle heroes?” he asked without sting.

“Yeah. He’s Jane Eyre’s leading male. A bad-tempered rich man who has a big house in the middle of nowhere and a secret deranged wife in the attic.”

“Well, I hit three out of the four criteria…” he said and Hermione’s heart lurched as she remembered he wasn’t a bachelor but a widower.

“Shit, Draco, I’m sorry,” she said. “That was thoughtless of me.”

He shook his head, the silver hair of his forelock tossing about as he chuckled, an entirely unfamiliar sound which she decided she wanted to hear again almost immediately. “It’s fine, Granger. You haven’t got a malicious bone in your body. Besides, it was a long time ago.”

They came naturally to a halt in front of the man-made lake and stared out at the lapping water for a time before she uncoupled her grip from his arm and shucked her coat back on.

That done, she drew in a deep breath and paused, leaning her forearms on the back of a cast-iron bench overlooking a flock of huddled, plastic pedalo boats moored up offshore. Malfoy remained a pace behind her, back straight as an arrow, his hands tucked into his pockets now that she was no longer hanging onto him.

A fair few Muggles were out and about, some walking lazily as she and Draco had been, others pounding along the pavement on their evening run, and a good number were walking dogs. The sheer mundanity of it all struck her deeply for a moment and her breath caught in her throat.

“Granger?” he asked in a soft voice.

She straightened and turned to look back at him over her shoulder. “I was just thinking how close we came to losing all of this… Sometimes it seems like a million years ago, and others…”

“Like yesterday,” he finished a beat later. His eyes glittered in the half-light, pale lashes ghostly and ethereal, and in the dark, his pupils were wide and black and inviting.

“Let’s keep going, hmm?” she chirped.

In fact, he walked her all the way back to her rather modest apartment in Muggle London. “You didn’t want to live closer to work at the bookshop?” he asked as she fumbled for her very ordinary, Muggle keys with half-frozen fingers.

Giving up, she murmured a quick ‘alohomora’ and pressed her hand to the extra ward she had placed on it. “I’ve lived here since I moved out of the house with Ron. Never seen any point in looking for something bigger or whatever. It’s cosy, and it’s just me anyway. You want to come in? I’ll have to tweak the wards if you do.”

“I… I don’t want to be a bother,” he said, his expression pinching.

“No bother. It’s a three minute job, if that.”

He looked torn, teetering on the edge of a refusal, but as she swept her curls back out of her face and blinked up at him, he seemed to waver, and finally he nodded. “Alright. Yes please.”

“Stay put. I’ll be right back,” she said, and left the door open so that he wouldn’t feel like a stray dog shut out in the cold.

After setting her bag and coat down on a sofa in the main living room, she stood and centred herself, reaching for the wards with her magic. They thrummed reassuringly as she wove a slightly different pattern into them, allowing Draco Malfoy to come and go, and then she released the magic once again.

“Ok!” she called to him and he stepped tentatively inside, shutting the door with a polite click behind him and levering off his fancy dragonhide Oxfords at the doormat.

There was something so intimately sweet about seeing him pad across the fake-wooden lino of her living room floor in his dark socks that she couldn’t help grinning.

“Those are some powerful wards you’ve got up,” he commented as he blinked curiously around the room.

“Hangover from the Ministry days, I suppose. Plus this is technically a Muggle building, so I can’t have anyone noticing anything strange. There’s another witch here, up on the seventh floor, but we don’t see each other often. You want something to drink? I’ve got tea or coffee, and a small selection of wine, though nothing nearly as nice as what Theo has on tap…”

He smiled. “A tea would be lovely.”

She ducked out into the tiny galley kitchen and lost herself in the simple task of filling and boiling the Muggle kettle. She turned to find Malfoy leaning his shoulder against the door frame, hands cupped under opposite elbows, watching her with that owl-like intensity again.

“Muggle kitchen,” she grinned almost sheepishly. “Magic is great for a lot of things, but some routines just can’t be beaten.” Ron had always hated and mistrusted things like electric kettles and refrigerators, not quite fully understanding the way it grounded her in her Muggle upbringing.

“I’m not judging you,” he said, voice low and slightly hoarse. “I’m just interested. Do you mind?”

“No,” she said, fishing in the cupboard for her selection of teabags. She held the cardboard box open for him to select one and her eyebrows rose when he chose a delicate mint and chamomile one, but she offered no comment. “I can give you a masterclass in using Muggle kitchens if you like.”

His lips pulled back into a broad, dazzling smile and he laughed. “Go on then.”

“Fridge,” she said, opening it and showing him. “Keeps things cold; powered by electricity. Freezer, keeps things, well, frozen…” She continued her tour while the tea steeped, and by the time she was done, the tea was ready and they made their way back out into the humble living room, with a second-hand sofa and a battered old coffee table with more ringed coffee-stains on than visible surface.

Her stomach rumbled and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t get a chance to eat anything yet, other than nibbles at Theo’s,” she cringed.

“Don’t let me stop you having something for supper then,” he said.

“I’m not going to scoff a freezer dinner on my own while you sit there and watch me,” she blurted, laughing. “Unless you want to join me? I’ve got a couple of pizzas in the freezer. Nothing fancy, but they’ll be ready in twenty minutes or so if I put the oven on now.”

Malfoy looked like he’d missed something somewhere but was too embarrassed to ask, so he just said, “Pizza? Sure. The last time I had pizza was when I took Scorpius to Rome.”

“Well,” she said, setting her mug down on the table and heading into the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she called, “I can guaranteed these won’t be nearly as good as those were, but they’re pretty tasty. I think they’re both chicken and pesto - is that alright?”

“Perfectly.”

Oven on, she returned and folded herself into the squashy armchair which sat at right angles to the sofa, tucking one leg up beneath her and drawing the other foot up beside her. Malfoy, of course, sat like he was about to take tea with the Queen, while she felt like a pretzel on a shelf. A comfy pretzel though, she thought as she reached for her mug.

“I’m glad we walked back,” she said after a moment. “I can’t believe I worked myself up into such a tizzy over Ron like that. It’s so childish…”

Malfoy sipped his tea and then cradled it between his long, pale fingers for a moment. “What happened between you two? I thought you three were —”

“— the ‘Golden Trio’?” she purred, voice laden with sarcasm.

He made a conciliatory gesture with his head but said nothing more.

She sighed. “We were. I mean, Harry and I are still super close - I’m James’ godmother after all. Ginny’s the sister I never had, but something went wrong with Ron somewhere along the line.” She knew exactly what the final blow had been, but there had been a myriad other issues on both sides before that. “I think… I think he felt like he never had a real niche, you know? He was always second fiddle to Harry in the heroics and quidditch departments, and, well, everyone knows I was the brains of the trio,” she said self-effacingly. “That’s not to say that he’s stupid — he’s not.”

Malfoy scoffed at that, and for a moment she saw the petulant, petty little thirteen year old he had once been. A deeply sceptical look filled his eyes, and he looked like he was physically biting his tongue to keep himself from disagreeing with her.

“No, really,” she scowled. “He just makes stupid, split-second decisions without thinking anything through. I’m not defending what he did or how he behaved at the end of our marriage, but…” she sighed heavily and drank a mouthful of too-hot tea that scalded her throat on its way down. “He’s in a pretty good place now with Lavender. We just… rub each other up the wrong way, even now I think.”

“Theo said he was being an arsehole earlier,” Malfoy pushed.

She shrugged. “A bit. I think he carries a lot of bitterness towards…” she gestured vaguely in Malfoy’s direction, “… Slytherins? I’m not really sure. Stupid house prejudices that a lot of witches and wizards clearly never get over. As if one moment in our history defines us for the rest of our lives, or as if we’re limited to the characteristics of the house we were sorted into at the age of eleven… It’s just so fucking dumb, Malfoy!”

He laughed softly at that.

“What? You don’t agree?”

“No, I absolutely agree with you. I was enjoying hearing you swear, that’s all. Forgive me.”

She flushed and looked away, anger leaving her as swiftly as it had come. “Ron has a lot of insecurities, and a few of them centre around me, but… I guess I just wasn’t enough for him in the end.”

“How could you possibly be ‘not enough’ for someone, Granger?” Draco asked in a hoarse whisper. “And you were the bloody Minister for Magic for Merlin’s sake…! What more did he want from his witch? Morgana herself reincarnated?”

She laughed long and loud at that, and Malfoy seemed to relax a little in the wake of his little outburst. “My reign was very short though,” she said as she stood and took the opportunity to put the pizzas in the oven. When she returned, she asked carefully, “What about you and Astoria?”

“What about us?” he asked, voice even and steady, though his eyes swirled softly like Trelawney’s crystal balls, hiding their secrets behind a shifting sheen of silver.

“Were you happy?”

Malfoy’s eyes slid away from her to stare unseeing at a point across the room, and he sat back against the sofa cushions, still nursing his cheap, Tesco mug between his hands.

“Yes,” he said eventually. “For the most part we were. It wasn’t… earth-shattering or anything, but it was pretty good, all things considered. It was arranged by our families, you know?”

She nodded.

“I knew Astoria’s older sister, Daphne, far better than I knew her, but Daph promised to an Austrian count already. He’s actually very nice. I’m glad for her.”

“I vaguely remember Daphne from school, but I didn’t have many classes with her as we got older.”

“I’d met Astoria a few times before it was all formally arranged, but even then, we only met a total of perhaps five or six times before the wedding proper. It wasn’t the huge event my mother had always dreamed of throwing for me, but with my father in Azkaban and me under house arrest, the mood wasn’t really there, you know?”

Hermione did some quick maths and realised he must have been only nineteen or so when he’d been married, and her eyes widened. She’d only been twenty-two when Ron and she had tied the knot, but still, that struck her as very young. Scorpius hadn’t been born straight away though, and there had been vicious gossip about blood-curse-related infertility until the little mandrake had arrived. Hermione been about to make the leap to Minister at the incredibly tender age of twenty five when the attack on the Manor had taken place, and Scorpius had been mere months old at the time.

“Toria and I grew to know each other better,” Draco went on, “And in time, I think we came to love each other, in our own way. She certainly adored Scorpius before the blood curse took her.”

“What was she like?” Hermione asked in a whisper.

Again, Malfoy sighed and closed his eyes with his head tipped back to rest against the sofa cushions. “Quiet, intelligent, articulate, easy-going most of the time, but when she got passionate about something, she could be pretty stubborn. Scorpius inherited a lot of that from her.”

“He looks like you though,” she said. “I mean… almost exactly like you did at that age. It gave me quite the turn when I saw the two of you on Platform 9 3/4 you know?”

He smirked and cracked an eye open. “Tell me about it,” he said. “Mother is always calling him ‘Draco’ instead of ‘Scorpius’. It drives him nuts.”

They shared a laugh at that. “Your mother lives with you at the Manor then?”

“Yes and no,” he said, shuffling a little and getting comfy again, relaxing his torso more casually against the arm of the sofa at last. “She moved out of the main manor when Toria and I married. Now she lives at what we affectionately call the Dower House. Officially it’s called Nightshade Cottage.”

“Ominous name,” she said and he smiled again.

“Apt though. There’s a rambling, stone-walled potion-garden round the back of it, full of all sorts of interesting plants, and a stunning rose garden at the front. It’s really beautiful in spring, and rather potent in summer.”

“You make it sound almost welcoming,” she said without thinking and he huffed a dry laugh.

“Parts of the estate really are lovely, Granger; its sordid past notwithstanding.”

When the beeper went on the timer, Malfoy jumped and looked confused, but she laughed and showed him. She did use her wand to cut up the pizzas though, and by the time they were seated back on the sofas with plates in their lap, they resumed their easy talk as if they’d never been interrupted. Watching Malfoy in his fancy clothes and eating pizza with his hands was almost too much for Hermione to bear, but if she focused on his voice too much instead, she found herself mesmerised on that front too. Who’d have thought that Hermione Granger would have found herself growing more and more attracted to Draco Malfoy all these years later.

Long after they’d finished eating, they spoke a little more of Scorpius, and how Malfoy guessed he was getting on after his first week at school. “Of course, he hasn’t written to me yet, but I’m hoping he might pen something this weekend…”

“You worry about him, don’t you?”

“Constantly,” he snorted. “One of the burdens of being a father, I suppose.”

“Of being a good one,” she amended, and she didn’t miss the way he swallowed thickly and blinked his glassy eyes rapidly a few times.

Then he sighed expansively and then levered himself to his feet. “It’s late, Granger, and I should probably be going. I’ve got a meeting to get to early tomorrow morning in Scotland, and I still have a bit of paperwork to do tonight.”

“But it’s the weekend, Malfoy,” she said as she rose too. “You can’t have to work, surely?”

He nodded and shrugged, but made his way to the door and slid his feet back into his shoes without further comment or explanation.

A little, fluttering, doxy-wing cloud of nerves shimmered to life in her chest as they stood face to face at the door. Malfoy swallowed again and hitched a tiny, lopsided smile. “Thanks for tonight, Granger. And…” he faltered and shook his head. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Thank you.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you,” she said. “You got me out of my funk and walked me safely home.” She ran her fingers through her mass of curls and didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to watch the movement before he blinked and turned away to open the door, clearing his throat.

With his fingers still on the handle, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. “My pleasure, Granger. Sincerely.”

Hermione barely managed to offer him a watery smile before he was striding off down the corridor.

She lingered in the doorway long after his footsteps had faded down the stairwell — apparently using the Muggle lift alone had proved too daunting for him. After she locked the door and recharged the wards behind her, she picked up his empty plate and mug to put them in the dishwasher.

As she passed the dresser that had once belonged to her mother, she caught sight of a moving photograph of Crookshanks. The half-kneazel was staring at the flat’s front door with his yellow, lamp-like eyes wide. “What do you think of him now, huh Crooks?” she asked the photo. “Bit different, eh?”

Photo-Crookshanks purred and circled in the bottom corner of the frame a few times, bottle-brush tail twitching, before returning to his fireplace and curling up with a look of contentment on his face. God, she missed that cat.

“Yeah. I think I like him too, Crooks,” she said. “Merlin help me, but I think I like him too.”

Part Five

___

I’ve only written all 12,410 words of this because people told me they liked it, otherwise it’d have stayed on whatever the first chapter was, so if you want more, let me know with a reblog! Feel free to send me an anonymous owl too if you’re more comfortable doing that.

Anyway, take care, and more soon, I hope. I’ve got a fair chunk plotted out, and it should take us up to Christmas in the storyline (it’s September now for them).

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #dramione fic #older dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #draco x hermione #draco x hermione fic

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worldoffanfiction2021 · 3 years

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Eternal Love of Dream - Chapter Next 5

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/131730357839252427/)

It was the most exciting time of the year in Quinqui. It was time for harvest festival. This was a 7 day long festival with parades, performances from acrobats and a grand fair. Every year anyone related to Quinqui, no matter how far from home he might be, would make it a point to come. Even visitors from all over would gather here.

Bai Xian, the crown prince Ye Hua and their little son Ah-Li had also come to the fox den for this celebration. Ah-Li and Gungun were both super excited to go to the fair. Chong Lin was trying to keep them interested in other things long enough so that they could go only after the sun would go down a little. Bai Xian was so not wanting to walk around in the hot sun and had tasked Chong Lin with this duty.

She herself had come to Xiaobai's room and was helping her bathe and get dressed. Xiaobai had recovered quite a lot, but her wound still hurt if she tried to move quickly or even tried to comb her long hair. So Bai Xian had taken it upon herself to look after her favorite niece.

Dijun had ventured to the kitchen asking his mother-in-law's help to cook something tasty and nutritious for his wife. His mother-in-law was only too happy to oblige. Finding not much else to do by himself Ye Hua had joined in too. They all chatted and cooked away a whole feast with sweet and sour fish, noodle soup, congee and various types of cakes. All of them were feeling very accomplished. Dijun and Ye Hua loaded two trays with all the food and decided to go to Xiaobai's room so they all could eat together.

When the two reached Xiaobai's room, she had finished bathing and getting dressed. Bai Xian was combing her hair and they were chatting. "Please don't tell whatever I am about to say, to Dijun. I don't want him to feel any more guilty than what he is already feeling.", Fengjiu was saying. Dijun signalled to Ye Hua to stop and not enter the room. They both placed the food trays on a nearby table and waited. Ye Hua signalled to Dijun that he will be back soon and left in search of their sons.

"Ye Hua is a true gentleman!", mused Dijun and continued to eavesdrop. His wife was about to tell something to her aunt that she thought would make him feel guilty. So? It wasn't going to be pretty. But he was quite thick skinned and he could handle it. At least that's what he told himself at that time.

Fengjiu continued reminiscing and talking to her aunt. She was talking about some of the hardest days of her life and it wasn't easy for her. But this was her aunt and she was one person Fengjiu did not mind being herself with.

"I waited for Dijun for 73 days. Each day was harder than the one before, but I waited. Everyone told me he had chosen to go to demon realm with Ji Heng. I chose not to believe them. I went to demon realm with Chong Lin to look for Dijun. There they told me he had been with Ji Heng. I was heartbroken.

I returned home here and was crying inconsolably in my room when medicine god Zhe Yan walked in. He sensed something off with me, checked my pulse and told me that I was pregnant. That moment! It changed my whole life.

I remember that night I did not sleep at all. But by the time morning came, I had made up my mind. God Zhe Yan had left me two pills - one that would abort and another that would preserve the baby. He also left a note saying he would support me no matter what I picked.

This was my baby. Mine and Dijun's. The only man I have ever loved. This baby was symbol of my unconditional love for Dijun. I knew he had loved me sincerely too. May be after seeing Ji Heng in trouble, he had decided to spend the rest of his life with her. But I knew when he had told me he loved me, he had meant it. I would keep this baby and live for the baby. This baby would be my whole universe from then on. I ate the pill that would preserve my baby.

Then I packed a few clothes, supplies to hide my birthmark, dress up as a man etc and left Quinqui. First I went to Sky Kingdom. Something in my heart was still not ready to let him go. I hoped to see him one last time. If he wanted to be with Ji Heng, all he had to do was tell me. I would get out of his way. But I didn't find him there. I knew I needed to be strong for this baby. Especially since I would be his only parent. So I let go of everything and left sky kingdom.

From there I went to Nether world, and checked up on Ye Quingti. I knew I would pay his debt no matter what. I left a trinket with Lord Xie Gu so he could reach me when he needed me to wake Quingti up. And then i went to mortal realm and stayed there until... "

"Why mortal realm? Didn't you know you would be all alone and you wouldn't be able to use your magic either? How could you have acted so foolishly, Fengjiu?", scolded Bai Xian.

"Aunt, I chose mortal realm because I did not want anyone to find me. I knew if any of you had learned that I was pregnant, you would confront Dijun and make him take responsibility for me and the baby. I knew what it was like, to stay away from the one I loved, I could never wish that for him.", Fengjiu explained.

Bai Xian rolled her eyes indignantly and continued with the questions. "How did you manage your pregnancy? Going into labor? The delivery? Did you take care of yourself properly at all?". She was seriously concerned.

"I did the best I could. I went to mortal realm and worked as a cook in a restaurant at that time. It was really hard work all day long. My body ached all the time and I was exhausted. But at least the owner who was an old lady, was kind to me. She let me eat leftovers and also let me take breaks often in my last month of pregnancy. She even revived me when I passed out from 3 days of labor pains and she helped me deliver Gungun safely. I am so grateful to her.

I was really sad when her son showed up 3 months later and wanted to force himself on me. I fought him, made him unconscious and ran away with Gungun. I did suffer physically and I was also very sad to leave the old lady to look after herself. But, I had no choice, so I did what I could.", Fengju tried in vain to make light of it. Bai Xian was appalled at what she heard.

And so was Dijun. He felt he had been too naive in thinking he could handle whatever he heard about her days in mortal realm. He had really underestimated her hardships.

Her days had been hard. When she had given him up, she had also given up her family and friends. All because of him. He knew he could never repay her for the things he had put her through.

"You are a Princess of Quinqui. You are the Monarch of this kingdom. You are the Empress of one of the most prestigious, powerful and revered god in the Sky Kingdom. Yet you had to work in restaurant and pass out from labor pains with no one to look after you. That's just so ...... ", Bai Xian was so furious, so flabbergasted that she could not find the right words at all.

"How can you love someone so much? How can you love him so much?", she asked incredulously to Fengjiu.

"Love is mysterious in its ways.", Fengjiu replied with a faint smile.

She knew her aunt was very angry. So Fengjiu reached for her aunt's hand. She hugged her aunt and wiped her aunt’s tears smilingly. Bai Xian's anger melted away. No one could stay angry at Fengjiu for long. With more tears in her eyes, Bai Xian planted a kiss on Fengjiu's head and held her close.

Dijun decided it was about time the ladies were interrupted. He wasn't sure he could bear to know any more of the hardships this delicate woman had toughed out because of him. He wasn't that thick skinned after all. He picked up the tray of food that had gone cold and heated everything back up with magic. He saw Ye Hua return with both the kids and together they walked in.

They sat in a circle and ate together. Both guys were pretty happy seeing their wives eat and praise the food they had prepared.

Dijun kept stealing weird glances at Xiaobai. She could sense something off about him. Was he worried about something? Was he about to go away soon and leave her for long time again? That thought scared her and made her very sad. But watching him smile at Gungun, she reasoned with herself that that must not be the case. She would have to ask him later when they were alone, she decided.

And she did get a chance to be alone with him soon. After the food was all gobbled up, Ah-Li reminded everyone that they had to go to the fair after lunch. So Gungun, Ah-Li, Bai Xian and Ye Hua all got ready to go.

“I will bring you sugar paintings, mom. Tell me what kind you want?”, Gungun said.

“Bring me back one dragon and one fox.”, she replied and exchanged a meaningful look with Dijun. That did bring back fond memories and a smile to Dijun’s face. She was happy to see her trick had worked to lighten his mood.

After they were all gone, Dijun closed the door behind them. He came back to her and helped her walk to the window. Although it was quite bright and sunny outside, the glorious willow tree in the yard provided just enough shade on the window seat. They both sat there with Dijun wrapping his arms around Xiaobai.

“What’s going on, Dijun? What’s been worrying you? Please tell me. And please be completely honest with me, ok? No matter how bad whatever that is, I want to know. And I want to work together with you to make it better. So tell me why you are so sad, so worried?” Xiaobai said looking into his eyes with sincerity.

“Xiaobai, I overheard what you were telling your aunt about the time of Gungun’s birth. I am feeling so guilty about that. As a husband I have failed you. Miserably failed you. I am so very sorry.”, Dijun’s voice cracked.

Xiaobai let out a long sigh and took his hands in hers. She looked at him, quite relieved that the worry wasn't anything about their future. She began to talk. “Dijun, what has passed is gone by. No matter what, we can never change it. So please let it all go. I do feel guilty about misunderstanding you, about talking to you coldly last time we met in the Sky Kingdom and keeping your son away from you for so long. But I am learning from it and learning to let it go. Let’s promise to always be completely honest with each other. Let’s start over, ok?”

A deep sigh left Dijun’s mouth as relief washed over him. His Xiaobai was still willing to give him another chance. She was asking to start afresh with him.

“When did my silly little fox become so wise?”, he chuckled and petted her nose. Hugging her, he let out a long sigh. She shifted to be more closer to him.

He pulled her close and said, “Are you tired, Xiaobai? Sleep a little if you are tired.” He planted a soft kiss on her hair, “Be a good girl and take rest for a while. We can take a small walk outside later if you feel better.”

“Hhmm..”, she said. Then she sunk her head on his chest and closed her eyes contentedly.

#three lives three worlds the pillow book #eternal love of dream #pillow book #bai feng jiu #dong hua #donghua dijun #xiao bai #cdrama

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