#im counting the days down until winter break i NEED to draw

[xxtwelvii]

i cannot EXPRESS how much i have missed drawing them,,,

ft ghost au because halloween :DD

[joannasteez]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄

pairing: frank castle x reader

warning: it’s basically porn with little plot if im being honest, a bit non-linear? but whatever

word count: 3.3k

a/n: nothing to say really besides enjoy and happy valentines day!!! and always, always remember that liking, reblogging and commenting especially aren’t mandatory but highly appreciated!!

The slow ghosting of fog, a single drip of rain. Air cold and crisp, the clouds gathered and ready to break, make way for the inevitable storm.

The single lashing of wind, cutting against skin and acute awareness. A futile warning before you're taken up and up and up.

That's what the licking shiver is like as it creeps its way down the arch of your back.  Standing on a lonesome cliff of euphoria, it's the quiet deep breath before the plunge.

The leather is wet, creases seeping with tears that roll in urgent succession, as if to keep up with the pace but still in their frenzy failing miserably. A gasp breaks, roughs up and out and you palm your couch tighter. Sink your head a little further into the leather.

You're teetering less than gracefully, on the verge of collapse and its good. So, so, good.

Another shiver erupts, pillages your skin of all the stillness it has to offer when you hear him rasp, breaths looming your heated skin. "That's it pretty girl".

A moan draws up from your throat, slow and steady like poison from a wound, eyes twisting at the firm lap of his tongue. Thick and hot as it slots and nestles its way to curl around your clit. A palm holding your arch in place as the other paws the meat of your ass, holding you open to press and lick further. Stubble scraps and pricks your skin, makes it tender but still, you pulse and clench around nothing, your little bundle of nerves on the verge of spent but alive and well all the same. It isn't until he hears it, the little chant nearly begging for more, that he slips a finger into you, "Please, please, please". Gives his tongue a couple seconds rest just to see the sight. The clench and unclench, arousal dripping as it coats his finger, and then he thinks you need more, you can take a little more. On this little winter, rose filled day, you can take whatever you need.

So he gives you another, strokes your pussy steady and sucks against your clit. Not like he's starved, no, like he's indulging.

You feel it all too quickly, the weight of release baring down on your bones, disrupting the pit of your belly.

"I'm coming again", because he'd had you on your back before, trembling, but now on your belly, arched on your knees.

And then he does it, slips his way past thick slick marred fingers and licks against the tightness you'd left untouched. Sucks and presses patiently, groans even when fresh arousal drips because of it. To repel is instinct, but you can't deny the quiver in your belly, the disembodied feeling his tongue brings as it presses, asks silently for entrance to yet another part of you. He'll break you eventually, make any other useless to you, with the way he's going. If he isn't careful, on this romance filled day, he just might make you drift far enough into uncharted territory. Where words that sound all too much like forever live. Root up out of you something pure enough he won't be able to bury.

His thumb looks to replace his tongue, presses a little harder and you nearly crumble at the tension. Shift your head to face him a little with stuttered breaths and words that just won't join. "Wait just-". His thumb is soothing, caresses the tight hole sweetly as the other rolls your clit. "Frank I-"

Even dazed he's intoxicating to look at, hair a bit longer than usual and starting to swoop low. Eyes blown and black with arousal, dimmed, like he's fallen into your taste. Has found the thing to fix the itch festering beneath muscle and skin, the sweetest ambrosia, solid and soothing like honey on his tongue. "Just a little bit yeah?" The bass underscoring his voice alluring, lulling you in and just like that your hips push back with need. Grinding to take his fingers deeper till a squelch sings and you hiss and coo. Mumble "ok", and then "ok" again with a little more urgency because now it's all you can think about.

"You want my thumb girl?" He teases with the stout digit, rolls and presses. "Mmm? You want it?"

You nearly sob, feel spit trail warm from where his thumb rubs in waiting till it flows between your lower lips. "Yes".

"Un-fucking-believable", Frank groans. At your beauty. A soft ecstasy. Throat lumping up, words drawn and mystified, raptured, as he delves slow. Feels the way you war against the tautness attempting to take hold. It's new and burdening he knows it, sees the bite your teeth take at your lips, the dimmed sitting of lusty eyes and knows just how good and new it is.

The momentum is oceanic. Waves pulling, waves crashing. Pressure here, pleasure there, but when he comes back, sucks in your clit with wet lips and strokes his thumb in your ass once, twice, and then some more, just enough that it’s a bit more than bearable, something shakes. Shakes and shudders in you, about you. Shifts you off axis and trips you off metaphorical feet. He's ruining you, slowly but surely, and it's unfair. As you whine into the creased leather couch, so damn unfair.

"Oh I hate you thats so good".

His laugh is scrappy. Genuine amusement as he goes about tethering his tongue to every drop of arousal that finds its way out.

Your chants, as they rush out and fly in whatever stuttered manner they choose, are wispy and tender still. Becoming muffled and disjointed by the dampened leather of your some-weekss-old sectional, but drunk and feathery all the same. ‘What a wonderful way to christen it’, the thought meandering loosely somewhere about you but never sticking to you wholly, never becoming solid, because is anything solid? Can any thought be made clear? Not like this, when you're molten and achy. Throbbing wild at the juncture of trembling thighs, pit of your stomach steadily churning to stone.

But oh when the stone breaks, cracks and crumbles to idle pieces, it's less than majestic and far from cinematic even. You quake and fly and pull along with your breaths a little ways away from consciousness. Coming back when something, his palm, mildly splinters your skin. Pains you with his own satisfaction, forcing another bout of pleasure to creep fast up your spine, a rippling that urges the jerk of your hips. Inevitably feeding you more of his slack fingers. You shake like a leaf still, and whine like stormy winter wind, and then when seizing bones grow dull, you stay there, arch less distinct, heady and weightless.

Frank moans in triumph, in need. Fire torching anew under seconds old satiation.

"Still with me, or you need a minute?"

A hand runs over your face, hiding a grin. "Don't be cocky".

And then it begins again, filters in like the opening of the world at sunrise, the muddled sounds of Brooklyn out your window. The rumbling train, and the skirting determination of cars. Buyers negotiating with sellers, attempting to get those last bouquets of roses, and you remember like the vividest dream, how you got here. From melancholy to him.

.....

The other guy had been too put together, too perfect. Every step leading up to this moment, it all had just felt too good to be true. The michelin star should have warned you not to waste your time.

"Would you like to order a drink while you wait?"

"No it's alright. He should be here any second now". Your wrist hadn't had a watch, suddenly feeling so naked, but you'd tapped it anyways, and it all just seemed to load more onto the waitresses face.

"Im sure its just the traffic".

She'd given one of those... expressions. A smile sharing equal parts of her lips with a frown, and maybe just maybe at any moment she'd offer your shoulder a good squeeze, draining what was left of the hope keeping your posture so upright. God the pity was unbearable. You hated it, hated him too for embarrassing you, and just the whole stupid ass holiday in general. Roses and chocolates and love making be damned.

You'd dipped out with slices of desert and all of your dignity. None spared for a man you could give less than a shit enough about to be wallowing so deeply in anger. It wasn't him so much as it was the let down of it all anyways. You'd been let down before, you could deal just fine.

Through the somber ride of the uber, and the pathway up creaky apartment stairs, wine had whispered for you sweetly.  A sultry crimson little song singing just for you.

'If only though', you'd thought as you sipped, 'to stare endearingly from the rim of a wine glass at another. If only to lure someone in with perfected coyness before a night of passion'.

Just one little night like the movies, had it been too damn much to ask for?

Pour after pour, you'd gotten a little more fuzzier in the brain and warmer. Resigned to the nights early ending.

Maybe you were drunk?, and thats why the door was suddenly knocking hard through the floors and into your chest. Maybe you were just somewhat buzzed, still with your wits about you and behind the door was Frank. The month and some weeks, not that you'd counted, had given him the beginnings of a beard and hair just a tad longer. Still as rugged, broken and beautiful as ever.

With wine in hand, you'd said "Hi". Surprised, a bit breathless.

"Hey", a thunderstorm still trapped after all this time in his chest. Finding its way out with words to rumble and shake you.

He'd shifted in the frame of your front door, eyes taking no real shelter in being un-obvious. You hadn't gotten undressed yet, subconsciously hoping and waiting for something to happen it seemed, for the night to veer off onto a less shitty course. You'd had this sullen pout to your fleshy lips, hips and dips hugged by fine ribbed fabric, wine in hand clutched like a life line and your eyes soft, playing at dolefulness, but still as beautiful as he'd remembered you to be before his little disappearing act.

"Drunk already?"

Drunk? no, buzzed?, perhaps. At that point you hadn't been so sure anymore, eyes drinking him in, it could've been then that after the sudden appearance, you were just on the precipice of burning. Through the cold desolation of disappointment tumbled a wayward flame, tall as a pillar, stoic, scruffy looking and tender some in his ways.

"I will be if you don't stop me".

You'd opened the door and stepped aside, closing it when he'd thumped in, near black eyes taking inventory of the place. The couch had gave in as you plopped into it, but Frank had kept to surveying still, looking around for whats changed and everything but the couch had stayed the same. You'd moved half of a half step, but not enough to where he was left in the dust of your memory it seemed.

Frank had sank into your leather sectional slow, getting a feel for its newness before his usual wide leg spread. Fingers having been so thickset and worked against the single rose he'd held up to you, littered in scars still, some new and others old, it'd given the elegant rose some pop. Soft, tender petals had opened before you in a wide bloom, accompanied by forest green stem and leaves, wrapped in baby pink paper and tied all up together with curly ribbon. The flower itself a deep bloody crimson.

Anything grandiose would've been some pseudo-romantic bullshit. There was beauty in simplicity anyways.

Flitting eyes could tell, as you'd taken a seat in the wide set of his lap, thighs draped over his own, the soft sullenness eroding to a clearer excitement, anticipation.

It've been a lie to say the same hadn't gone for him, trigger finger not so happy and his body undoing the hard form it would take as he stalked the streets of Hell's Kitchen.

"Florist said somethin' about pressin' it to preserve it".

"I didn't think you were the single rose type".

He'd palmed your thighs with beefy fingers then, skimming an opaque red warmth into the skin, as if to stoke a flame. "I'm old fashioned like that I guess".

You'd been waiting for the right moment, not too early or too late, to kiss him. Pull him in by his thick nape and slip the taste of aged wine onto his tongue. You'd sounded the way feathers drifted, precious and wispy in his lap, needy for a surface to rest on, for someone to catch you through shifty breezes and adore you.

He'd been so heavy in your mouth, the lay and swirl of his tongue weighty and nearly suffocating, like he'd meant to steal breaths from you. Or intended instead to lose himself completely. Frank had pressed into you everywhere, with tense palms to mold, like the pages of a book to a rose, to still you in memory.

When you'd followed heated instinct, gave his flushed ears kisses and the grazing tease of your teeth, he'd pawed a hand at your dress in a curiosity that couldn't be shaken.

"How was your date?"

The curled bow of his upper lip had been addicting as you'd met him there, like nectar to a honey bee. It'd been so good you'd failed even to be upset at the recounting of earlier disappointments, mumbling to him.

"He stood me up".

You'd never seen anything like it, the way he'd softened and hardened all at once, touch like a plume but the eyes hard and steely. Refined in their disgust. "Forget em', that piece of shit". It'd had his nerves simmering, the way his sharp jaw had twitched, but this was no typical righteous indignation, no, it was frustration. A dash of guilt. What was a date gone wrong compared to weeks of radio silence. The comparison was futile, like a needle to a sword, a street brawl to war. Even so, he knew better than to miss tonight. "Besides, you would've just wasted your time on an overpriced piece a'ribeye, cheap wine and mediocre dick".

"But thats what I wanted". You'd set out to pecking his lips, before correcting yourself. "...the steak anyways".

He'd nearly flushed you against him then, meat of your thighs and the hair at your neck all at the mercy of deft fingers. Warm tongue slotted between the purse of your lips. "Got somethin' for you, but it ain't no where near mediocre".

Cocky bastard.

You'd been on him, his hips straddled quick, and you'd giggled so damn silly and excited. "That's how you comin' tonight?"

.....

If it were possible to build and form and shape words into tangible things, like a potter does clay, Frank would mold some fragile thing or another into the word 'mediocre'. Form it good just to heave it clean against the wall. Break and splinter it, hear the pitchy clash and stand dark and proud in the debris. With flexed hot muscle and a sly grin, he was proud alright, pushing firm into the soak of you, bringing you back from the far away drift of memories and dreams.  

He's stewing in heat, feels like a pillar of flames, not on the precipice of combustion no, but blazing something ancient and eternal. You're so good for him, clinging to his dick like you need him. Can't be without him. "Look at that", he groans. Sets a hand to grip the couch arm just above your head as the other slips through your slit. "All messy and wet for me".

The beginning is slow, measured. A deep artful fuck that leaves you drunk and boneless. All rolling eyes and raspy coos. Legs bent at the knees and your fingers palming and twisting at sensitive breast.

He's nudging a thumb at the part of you lips, tongue meeting savory arousal. Licking and sucking with fervor.

"Atta girl".

His praise is rough as he swells and twitches and moans, knees like nails digging into the leather for better grounding. So when he plunges forward, it's full and vicious to the already frenzied nerves rippling about you. It's apology and possession, 'i'm sorry', 'your mine', 'i miss you', and you gasp at the stretch. The delicious wet split of it.

"S' so good Frank", your head lulling off to the side. Lip nearly torn between your teeth.

"Yeah? This what you needed?", clutching your neck to lift you. Hunching his wide back some to close the distance before his lips rush yours into a harsh sloppy kiss. "Needed me deep in that pussy again right?"

You squeeze him hard, as if its reflex. Moan out and flex stimulated muscle, float and revel in the soaked smack of his hips to yours till he grips your neck tighter. The wild lust breaking through his dimmed eyes. "Answer me".

"Yes".

Another squeeze and you're holding and clawing at his hand, whether to beg for release or to have it stay, you're not sure.

"Yes what?"

Oh. Him and those damn military manners, making your gut flip and knot.

"Yes", you try again. Wilt like a rose in his hold and whimper. "Yes sir".

He lets you breathe, clutches the backs of your knees with both hands and verges onto a particular sort of feral-ness he hasn't felt in a while. It's red raw and primal, un-abating, thirsty even, for blood?, no, but it's quite inexplicable. The way he drags out of you and ruts, like a damn beast, and all you're good for is clawing his skin and mumbling, moaning weakly and tightening till his breath chokes out short with curses and praises. You feel so good, so right, and in a world where everything is blurred and disjointed, so real. It's not so inexplicable anymore, and God he just wants to know.

"You missed it?", accentuating with the snap of his hips. "You missed this?"

You reach down and peel back the soft flesh of your lower lips, open more for him like a blooming flower, to circle your clit, and then you break him. Heave the unsure parts of him against the wall and watch him splinter into something new.

"I missed you".

It's a burden and with it lifted you come, cry and squeeze, pulse hard and shudder. Nearly sink into the damp leather as he pushes into you still. Your heart pounds, drums rambunctiously as you whimper and throb for him. He's warm and filling when he follows behind you, releases with sloppy stuttered hips. Flushed and sated.

Brooklyn isn’t so quiet anymore in the dazing afterglow, but it doesn’t turmoil either of you with harshness, but opens instead. Unfurls into the night like lulling white noise. Rumbling easy and soothing beneath hearts, bones and beautifully tired nerves. 

…..

Your bodies stretch out and lay on the opposite end of the sectional, teeming with a delectable hum just beneath your skin. Legs slack between the hard touch of his, head resting on his warm chest, feeling the skim of his fingers play at the end of your nape and the beginning of your back.

It's a while before you move to raise up from him, the silence nearly making the night timeless, and he's pinning you to his chest.

Frank's voice draws up lazy and deep, tingles nerves you thought already satisfied. "Where you going?"

You slink your way atop him to his lips, feel his length soft and warm against your belly as you peck his lips, trailing to his neck. "Coffee", you say and he perks up some. "Bought desert from the restaurant too if you want".

"What kind?"

"Chocolate cake".

He hums, seeming to like what you've got but makes no move to release you. Just pulls you away from his neck with a gentle hand and back to his lips. His tongue slotting through the pursed part of your own mouth, before his hand tightens the slightest, in sincerity you think, and he mumbles.

"Missed you".

[shaynawrites23]

Second Chances

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

The stunning moodboard is by the wonderful @im-a-writer-right, and look, if there’s one blog you should follow, it’s hers. Why are you still here? Go follow her! Or maybe after you read my fic 😉

Word count: 913

Prompts: “You’re my second chance.”

“You really like hugs, don’t you?” “Only yours.”

Written for @im-a-writer-right and @blisfvll’s writing challenges! And Ria, I’m also the toothbrush anon, so hi!

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

Your nails made clicking sounds on the keyboard of your laptop as you typed. Yay, mission reports. In any case, you wanted to finish this as quickly as possible so you could go have a snack and get some kisses from your sweet boyfriend without either Steve or Tony badgering you about it.

You sighed. Having started twenty minutes ago, you couldn't permit yourself to take a break. Curse your procrastination. The report was due tonight and you only had yourself to blame.

Now you were ultra-focused on the words flashing into existence on your screen, so much so that you failed to notice the door of your bedroom open as someone entered.

The bed bounced when a large body flopped down next to you. You only glanced up for a split second, looking down again when you realized he wasn't a threat. It was none other than your loving boyfriend Bucky Barnes, lying face first in one of the many pillows you decorated your now-shared bed with.

"You okay, babe?" you asked, not breaking your concentration. The only response you received was a groan, or at least that's all you remember. Maybe your mind didn't quite register anything he might have said.

You almost forgot he was there until he started grabbing at your hand. God, you wanted to touch him too, just feel his presence, but you did not want to get Tony on your back about this dumb report.

"Buckyy, I need to work," you whined, pulling your hand out of his reach.

You made the mistake of looking at him when you didn't hear anything. He was pouting. The big, bad, deadly assassin, former Winter Soldier, was pouting at you like a child. Smart man.

You sighed, looking away so you could wholeheartedly convince yourself why giving in was a bad idea.

"Babe, let me finish my report and I'll let you cuddle me as much as you want."

He seemed deep in thought for a moment, as if weighing his options. Deciding it would be faster to just let you work for a few minutes, he nodded.

"Okay. But I expect kisses too."

"What are cuddles without kisses?" You grinned, the urge to peck his lips too strong for you and so you did exactly that.

He lay back, hands under his head as he watched you work. Not so much watching as admiring you, though. His eyes traced your features, committing them each to memory as if he were afraid you'd be ripped away from him and he'd be left with nothing but memories of you.

You'd been there for him since he broke free of Hydra, never once faltering in your attempts to get closer to him. After a particularly bad day, he broke down and let you past his walls. You helped him regain his memories and get out of his pickle with the government, and sometime in between, you fell in love with him, and he with you. You had been together ever since. His entire life constituted one long ordeal, one hellish nightmare, but you were waiting for him at the end of it all, welcoming him with open arms. His light at the end of the tunnel.

You were his sun, his moon, his stars. Hell, you were his entire universe. And for you, he’d do it all again.

"Buckyy, stop staring. I can't focus like that," you whined, patting his leg to draw his attention.

"Can't help it, doll, you're just too beautiful." Christ, the way the words rolled off his tongue had you actually believing them.

"Don't tempt me," you groaned. "I want to cuddle too, but then Tony and Steve will scold me for procrastinating, and you know how much I hate that."

You turned your attention back to your laptop, typing the report up as quickly as you could. You still felt his gaze burning holes in your back, but you didn't care, wanting to finish as soon as you could so you could crawl into his arms.

"There. I'm done." You closed your laptop, setting it on your nightstand before flopping down next to him. "Hey there, handsome. What're you thinking about?"

"You." He pulled you into him. "And second chances, I guess."

"What about them? You don't need second chances, Buck. You're doing great."

"I know, doll." His chest rumbled with a breathy laugh as his arm tightened around you. "I was thinking about you. I know it sounds cheesy, doll, but I swear, you're my second chance."

"Baby-" You didn't know what to say, instead choosing to press your lips against his. His hand flew to the back of your neck, tilting your head and coaxing your mouth open. You reciprocated with every ounce of love you had for him, which was already an unmeasurable amount.

"Love you, darlin'. So, so much," he murmured against your lips before capturing them in another sweet kiss.

"I love you too, Bucky. But I could really use a snack, so..." With that, you attempted to stand up, but he wouldn't let you, his iron grip keeping you in his arms.

"I'll call Steve, he can bring us something." He was already dialing the number before you could respond.

"You really like hugs, don't you?" You laughed, laying your head on his chest again anyway.

"Only yours," he hummed. "Hey, Steve, it's me. (Y/N) just finished that report and we're hungry, so bring us some snacks, would you?"

So it’s a bit shorter than my usual fics, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

PS: I found my writing notebook and I realized I forgot to add a couple lines I wrote specifically for this fic, so I added them now!

[poptod]

October 1st (Elliot Alderson x Reader)

Description: He waits until the last moment and it’s too late.

Notes: i wrote a love letter to my friend but im never gonna send it so im profiting off my misery. gender neutral as usual

Word Count: 1.9k

+

Sad, sick people have a tendency of gravitating towards each other, whether or not they're aware of the illness of the other person. You know this quite well – in your rather sick childhood, where your mind was plagued with thoughts of self hatred, most of the friends you made were just about as sad as you. Looking back, it is a rather horrifying thought considering you were only twelve and so ready to die. Your mother said you were exaggerating, and that makes sense. Things were dramatized back then. But there's a flicker of truth in there, a small part within the soul that truly believed they should be dead. There's no sicker thought than that.

This trait, that part of yourself, carried through into adulthood. Unfortunate, really – that means it isn't just teenage drama, it isn't just your peers or your family. It's you. You look at yourself in the mirror and realize with tired, drooping eyes that it was always you. There's a quote – something along the lines of, "some people grow sad very young, and I know this, for I am one."

Elliot is sort of like that, too. Well, the two of you get on fine – in both life and within your friendship – and you don't really need to talk about it. You're both well aware of the others' problems, but it doesn't need to be mentioned. All you do is sit in cafe's together so neither of you are approached by creepy people and smoke together at his apartment. It doesn't need to be more than that.

Despite that barrier in your head, he's still your best friend. Maybe because he's one of your only friends, the other being an internet friend who you visit every now and then. Oh well. You lead a pretty sedentary lifestyle – you don't need a lot of friends. Just one to hang around.

Still, he does get around sometimes. He gets up out of nowhere, you ask where he's off to, and he says out. Most of the time he doesn't let you come, but this time he has and he's just wandering around. Looking at people and rationalizing their presence, watching the birds on benches, staring at shopfronts. For a moment you think to ask why he'd take such excursions in such cold weather, but with a glance to his peaced out face you know he doesn't have an answer.

You suppose that's just fine – there's something about fall that has you enjoying time outdoors. The piles of golden and red leaves pushed up against the sides of the streets, the coffee signs in front of every cafe, each with their own drawings of steaming coffee, and of course the scents in the air. It's not a particularly nice part of the city, but it has a fair share of restaurants and most smell of apple cider and cinnamon. The taste of pumpkin is also there; probably because you're sitting next to a Starbucks.

People pass by you donned in fuzzy jackets and long scarves. You look a bit like them; you're not a fan of the cold, so you have mittens, a hat, boots, and a scarf. Elliot on the other hand is much the same, as usual, and you don't expect him to ever stray from that routine. You like his routine. It's familiar.

"I'm leaving soon," you finally blurt out, a topic barely in your conscious mind but ravaging your subconscious. It's both good and bad news, considering the trip is for getting a doctorate, but it's clear he doesn't feel the same way. His eyes widen and he looks to you almost incredulously.

"Where?" He asks.

"Berlin. They've got this program for foreign students. I'll finally be able to get my doctorate in linguistics," you say, nodding to yourself. "I, um... I don't know if I'll be back."

"Why not?" He asks in a softer, rougher voice.

"It's an expensive move, you know? And there aren't that many jobs for linguists here.. at least, there's more in Europe," you half mumble, staring at your fidgeting fingers.

He gets up and leaves. Without another word except an astounded stare out into space, he stands and leaves you on the bench. You almost go after him, but he's got that look about him, and you know he's a little lost in thought. It'll be fine – you won't leave for a little while (not until October, actually), which gives you some real time with Elliot, if that's what he wants. As hard as it is for people to read him, you have a knack for it. That's probably why he spends any time at all with you.

You're going to miss him quite a lot. Lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling in your sleep clothes, the clock well past midnight, you wonder if he'll miss you too. He hasn't talked to you since you told him, which you did a good week or so ago now. Guilt settles deep in your chest – he's a man of routine and you're seriously breaking it. Fortunately, it's not really your problem. You have your own life and it doesn't revolve around what makes him comfortable.

You still feel bad about it, though.

About two weeks before you're set to leave he finally texts you, telling you to come visit him, and though he doesn't say it you know he means one last time. You get it right before you're about to get in the bath, and instantly you reach for the drain, unplugging it to let it drain while you redress yourself. Something nice – not your sweatpants, no matter how warm they are in the late September chill.

Outside rain falls in great sheets, battering down on the already dead leaves and the many, many busy people. Most everyone you pass by is dressed in black – black coats, black pants, black umbrellas. It's like they're mourning a death, though the only death you can think of is that of summer. You don't have an umbrella in your bag, but there's enough people on the streets with umbrellas and enough overhangs that you manage to stay mostly-dry, till the crowd thins out around Elliot's apartment and you get drenched. Droplets of water run down your fully-soaked hair, falling cold on your eyelashes and turning your nose a blushing pink.

Excitement pounds through your heart at the prospect of seeing your friend again. People at your workplace are nice, but no one is quite as intricate or interesting like he is. Every person is special, as are you, but you find yourself looking for the same traits in all your friends. A sort of quiet person with far too much beneath the surface. That's the only way you know how to describe what exactly Elliot is – well, he's kind. Soft-spoken, usually. Lost in his thoughts. Distant. Compassionate, and surprisingly, warm. You don't hug him much but he's warm, and for some reason you never expect it.

He lights the joint, taking a few puffs to ensure it's working before handing it to you, leaning over the small couch so you can reach. Smoke clouds itself in your lungs, forming pockets of dry, happy thoughts in your head. It all comes out with your exhale, like the freeze of hot breath in winter and the fog of dry ice.

"I love you," you say. Blurting is becoming a bad habit for you, but that's okay. You won't see him for a long time, and you need to get it out, no matter how surprised Elliot looks. He always looks a little surprised. "You know that, right?"

He laughs – he actually laughs. A smile spreads across his usually dull cheeks, and a blush crosses him, pink around his grin and pronounced in his ears and the tip of his rounded nose. You can't help it so you smile with him, absorbing the entirety of his fluster. He's always so closed off. Maybe you help him out of that hole, but it's mostly wishful thinking that drives your thought process towards that.

A cloud of smoke releases itself from Elliot's mouth. He doesn't say anything in relation to your announcement, but you don't particularly expect him to. He's a little odd when it comes to affection. You don't mind it in the least, too caught up in memorizing his little movements and his breathy sighs to bother with the tough things.

So that's it. You spend one more afternoon-into-evening with him, and you don't see him again, not at the airport, not over text or Skype. There was a chance of that – you knew that, but it still disappoints and saddens you to watch the ground disappear, the last memory of your Elliot from several days ago. It feels as though it's already fading despite the fact that you remember every detail of your time with him. How could you forget?

Fidgeting with your bag on the plane, you close your eyes and wonder what things will be like when you get back, if you ever do. Your bag is a little like his jacket – a comfort, with fringes that are easy to fidget with, as much as it might annoy the person sitting next to you. Anxiously you dig your hand into your bag, looking for your anxiety meds, only for your fingers to brush against paper.

You don't have paper in your bag.

Pinching it between your fingers, you pull the paper out, revealing an envelope with your name on it. With shaking hands you tear open the glue, unfolding a note scrawled onto leaf paper. There aren't any lines for guiding, but the words are perfectly spaced.

(Y/N),

I'm not sure if I'll ever send this to you. Maybe not – everything is so unsure right now. My constants in this hectic state of the world are few and most are not good. My job, my scars, my anxiety, they never go away but neither do you. It may seem inconsequential to you – you're likable and you have other friends, but I don't. Not really. I have you, though, and it often feels like that's enough.

I always wanted a forever person; someone there throughout all life for better or worse. A bit like tonight – it ended with a bar fight, but somehow I enjoyed it. I looked to you and you were grinning and bashing a guy's head in, and somehow that made me smile. It's always better with you. I don't talk about that enough.

You're the good in the world. I find it hard to believe, much less articulate, how good you are. How kind. Understanding. Creative, open, pure in the best way. You make me want to become a better person, and isn't that what humans strive for? A connection with someone who makes you believe the world is capable of good, someone that makes you believe you'll be alright – so long as you stick by their side.

I don't write these kinds of things. You know that – I don't like bringing my deeper emotions to light. But you're safe and I trust you; I just hope you understand how special you are to me. You deserve so much good and I wish I could give that to you. I can't give you what I want to give you, but I will always be your friend, no matter what.

Elliot

He wrote this a while ago. That bar fight was a year or so ago – is that how long he's been keeping this letter back? Is this why he asked you to come over? ... Is this his attempt to get you to stay?

The plane's already over the ocean. You can't even see the shore anymore.

You realize just a little too late that he's the good in the world.

[lavenderlattaes]

the night we met. | jeon jeongguk

⇒ summary: and on a cold winter’s night just before the start of a brand new year, you meet a boy who changes your entire new year for the better. 

⇒ [ ghost! au ]

⇒ pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

⇒ word count: 4.7k words

⇒ genre: light fluff, angst

⇒ warnings: mentions of cheating, breakup, and death

⇒ note: hello! it’s been so long since i wrote a long bts fic, huh? but i’m back again with a new one and this is one of my entries to @btsghostiewritersnet​ ‘s Bingo Bash! It falls under my ghost! au tile and i hope you guys like this! please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think. enjoy! (also this is the third time im reposting bc the tags haven’t been working for me hhh)  ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

i.

The cold night air nips at your frozen, flushed cheeks as you hold back tears. Of all the days of the year, why did you have to end up alone and heartbroken on New Year’s Eve? Your tired, Timberland boots clad feet lead you to the park you frequented with your boyfriend before he decided to lock lips with someone else that wasn’t you. You walk past the benches and the playground and find yourself by the crystal lake that was still frozen over by the cold winter. You crouch down on your feet, your fingers reaching out to glide across the icy surface.

You sniffle softly, your mind going back to the events a few hours prior as your heart breaks. You shut your eyes tightly and let the tears fall freely, the hot tears warming up your frozen cheeks. Loud, heartbreaking sobs wrack your entire body until you can hardly breathe anymore.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

How could he do that to you? How could he break your heart in the most cliché way possible? How could he break his promise of a forever with you? You were stupid to think he’d actually love you for as long as you breathed the same air, for as long as you lived.

“You’re going to get sick if you keep crying out here in this cold weather.” A shy, timid voice rings out from behind you, and your sobs quiet down slowly. You immediately wipe your tears away, and sniffle again before turning around.

Your eyes lock with a pair of soft, gentle, brown, doe-like eyes the moment you turn around. A handsome boy around your age stares at you, his hands buried deep in his pockets. You break away from his glance momentarily to wipe the few tears that still manage to escape. You let out another gentle sniffle before standing up. You brush your hands against your jeans, the snow falling down your fingers and down onto the ground.

Your eyes, nose, and cheeks are all red now, and the boy purses his lips before pulling out a small handkerchief. His right hand extends out to you, offering the small piece of cloth. You look at it and back up at his face. He stares at you and you timidly reach forward, taking it. You give him a small nod and he just nods back, as you turn to the side slightly, blowing your nose into it. He lets out a chuckle at that, and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“Thanks,” you whisper once you’re done, and you stuff the handkerchief into your pocket as you turn back to face him. 

“Why were you crying?” The boy asks and you sigh, plopping back down onto the ground. He approaches you gently, before going down on his knees to sit beside you. You glance at him to find his gaze trained on the empty, frozen lake in front of you both.

“My boyfriend cheated and broke up with me,” you answer, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“On New Year’s Eve?” The boy asks again and you nod, as he chuckles. You turn to look at him with a light frown.

“What’s so funny?” 

“My girlfriend broke up with me too on New Year’s Eve,” the boy tells you, and he turns to meet your gaze.

“Maybe you weren’t supposed to spend the next year together. Maybe this happened to you because you’re supposed to be with someone better than him.” He says softly, as the wind blows around you both, making you shiver lightly. The boy notices you shivering and shrugs his thick coat off, throwing it around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” you try to decline but he shakes his head. “You’ve been crying, you know. You need to warm up if you don’t want to get sick.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, pulling the coat tighter around you.

“I’m Jeongguk.” The boy finally introduces himself and you manage to crack a small smile.

“I’m Y/N.”

ii.

An incessant tapping sound rings in your bedroom in the middle of the night, waking you up in the process. You groan from the annoying noise, rolling over in your sheets as you try to get yourself to get out of bed.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Y/N, open up!” you hear a familiar voice call your name, making your eyes snap open, fully awake now.

You get up and rush over to the window, your eyes meeting those same, doe-like, eyes you first met one year ago. He grins at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in amusement as you squint at him, your fingers reaching over to unlock the window. The cold air brushes inside the room as you let the boy in.

Jeongguk lands on his feet gracefully, barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. He glances at you with a grin as you roll your eyes at him.

“What are you doing here? It’s late,” you ask him, walking back to your bed. He climbs in with you, crossing his legs as he leans on his arms for support, facing you.

“It’s been exactly one year since we met, don’t you remember?” your best friend grins at you as your mind finally registers the date. Your eyes glance at the digital clock perched on your bedside, and the red numbers glare in the dark room. 

12:03 am, 2021-12-31.

“Happy one year of friendship…?” You suggest sheepishly, turning back to face the boy. He grins and lunges forward at you, trapping you in a bone-crushing hug. Your body falls back on the bed as Jeongguk moves his full weight on top of you, making you whine.

“You’re heavy!” You choke out from underneath him, but he only lets out his melodious laughter ring out in the quiet room.

“Oh, come on, you love me!” He giggles and you’re furiously slapping his back, trying to get him off of you.

“If I say that, will you get off of me?” you breathe out and he immediately rolls off to the side, making you gasp for air dramatically. He rolls his eyes before perching his head up on his arm. He turns to your side, grinning at you as you glare at him playfully.

“For real though,” you begin once you’ve caught your breath, “I really do love you.” You admit, the sincerity in your voice and the gentleness of your tone making the atmosphere suddenly shift. It’s silent now, and Jeongguk just stares at you, his mouth partly open.

“You made me happier. I thought I didn’t want to keep smiling after what my boyfriend did. I know he doesn’t deserve me pining over him so hopelessly but I still continued believing he would somehow tell me it was all in my head. I hoped he would chase after me that night, but he never did.” You say quietly, your eyes trained on the ceiling. It was covered in stars, not the plastic, glow-in-the-dark kind, but hand-painted stars that Jeongguk and you both painted a few months ago. Well, he did most of it while you just cheered him on, dancing around in your room to whatever was playing on his Spotify radio back then.

Jeongguk’s free hand comes up to cup your face, turning your cheek to face him. “I just wanted to see you smile. That’s all that I ever really wanted. You looked so sad when we first met. I’ve never seen anyone so sorrowful that I even felt my own heart breaking.”

Maybe it was the way he looked at you — like you were his entire world, or the way he cupped your face in his hand — like you were some delicate china doll he couldn’t bear to break, or the way he always hugged you — like he never wanted to let go, that made you realize maybe you’ve already fallen for your best friend. 

Maybe you really were supposed to break up with your boyfriend before you welcomed the new year because you were supposed to spend that new year with Jeon Jeongguk instead.

“I love you.”

The words fall past your lips and out into the silent night. It doesn’t register in your mind until Jeongguk smiles softly at you, leaning in close to kiss your forehead.

“I love you too.”

You smile up at him and he just scoots closer to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you tightly. That night, you fall asleep in Jeongguk’s warm embrace, your breaths mingling, your hearts beating at the same slow, steady, and calm pace.

When you wake up the next day, he’s gone. It doesn’t faze you though, because he’s always snuck inside your room late at night and left before you woke up. But a small part of you hoped that he would be there when he woke up, especially since things have somehow changed between you now.

His scent still lingers in the air, and the side of your bed where he lay was still warm, the sheets slightly crinkled. A small note peaked out from underneath your phone, and you know it’s from him. The handwriting says it all.

Meet me at the lake later tonight. i love you <3

A smile makes its way onto your face, instantly boosting your mood for the rest of the day.

And just like one year ago, the cold night air nips at your frozen, flushed cheeks as this time, you try to hold back an excited smile. You take excited skips toward the park, your fingers brushing along the benches and the trees. You reach the frozen lake, your smile blooming once you recall the events from last year. You crouch down onto your knees again, your fingers drawing on the icy surface as you wait for him.

“I hope you’re not crying like last year,” Jeongguk’s playful voice rings out from behind you and you immediately turn around to face him.

“Why would I -” your smile drops from your face when you see Jeongguk’s red eyes and nose. Tears are falling down his face as the wind blows softly, making you shiver.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask softly, walking over to him. He purses his lips, his dimples popping out as he tries to stop the tears from falling.

“I’m sorry.” The cursed words you’ve despised the most leave his lips.

“Why? Why are you sorry?” you plead, reaching forward to grasp his hands in yours.

“I can’t be with you.” Jeongguk whispers, his breath shaky as he grips onto your hands tighter.

“Why not? Why are you doing this to me now? After telling me you love me?” You’re crying now, and Jeongguk’s sobs get quieter as he slowly calms himself.

“You’re going to have to be happy without me now, okay? I’ve spent an entire year with you now, I need to go.” He explains, letting go of your hands to cup your face.

You shake your head furiously, your hands coming up to hold his wrists. The wind was blowing harshly around you, making you both shiver but it can’t possibly be colder than the ice crawling into your heart right now. 

“Don’t leave me.” You cry out, making both of your hearts break. 

Jeongguk’s thumbs wipe your tears away, before he leans in to kiss your forehead again. “I can’t stay here with you, Y/N. It would be selfish of me to stay.”

“Why? Where are you going?” You ask desperately, your eyes searching for some sort of sign that he’s just lying. But over the past year that you’ve come to know him, you’ve learned how to read him better than anyone else. You know him like the back of your hand. He never hides his emotions when he’s with you. And he’s never lied to you, not even once. 

“Somewhere far away and I’m not coming back,” he answers truthfully and you know it in the way he doesn’t stutter and in the way he holds your face gently. You close your eyes, letting more tears fall down your flushed cheeks as you feel the same biting cold from just over a year ago. Only this time, it hurts more in your heart than it does on your cheeks.

“Even when I’m gone, I’ll always be here,” he whispers, placing your hand above your heart as you feel your steady heartbeat. “I’m never going to truly leave you behind, Y/N. But I need you to be happy even without me. Can you promise me that?” he crouches down to your height, tucking a finger under your chin, prompting you to look at him.

“It’s going to be hard, but can you do it? For me?” He adds, caressing your hair gently as you give him a slow, hesitant nod that still manages to shatter your heart into a million pieces.

“That’s my angel.” He coos with a soft smile, pulling you in for a tight hug. You cry into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as he kisses the crown of your head repeatedly. 

“Will I see you again?” you ask, pulling away as you stare up at his doe-like eyes that made you fall for him in the first place. He smiles, and leans forward to kiss you on the lips for the very first time, and the last. You kiss him back, pouring all of your love into the only kiss you ever get to share with Jeon Jeongguk.

“One day, angel. When it’s time for you to see me again.” He pulls you into a hug again, wrapping you tight in his warm embrace. For the first time that night, you don’t feel the cold. All you can feel is Jeongguk’s warmth spreading all throughout your entire body. You close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

“I love you, always remember that.” Jeongguk whispers. 

And when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

You take ragged breaths, wiping away the tears hastily as the coldness starts creeping into your heart again. You turn around, hoping to find a glimpse of his retreating form or even just his shadow but you find nothing. Not even a trace of his footsteps on the snow, or his scent lingering in the air.

It was as if Jeon Jeongguk was merely a figment of your imagination.

And you cry. You cry, and you cry your eyes out until you can’t breathe, until your throat hurts from screaming, until your mouth feels dry. You drop onto your knees, the snow seeping into your jeans, soaking your skin with the icy coldness. But it still can’t compare to the ice that has now fully coated your breaking heart.

iii.

“Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?” A masculine voice calls out in the darkness, and you squint your eyes, opening them slowly. A bright, white light greets you, and when your eyes finally adjust to the brightness, you’re staring into the eyes of a doctor.

“Hello, Y/N. I’m Doctor Kim. How are you feeling?” He asks gently, giving you a gentle reassuring smile. Doctor Kim is young, seemingly only a few years older than you, with black hair pushed back against his forehead, and full, pink lips. He seems more like an older brother than a doctor with his warm smile.

“I’m okay, I guess…” you trail off, your hands flat against the bed as you try to push yourself up to a sitting position. Doctor Kim immediately goes over to your side, helping you sit up. “What happened?” you ask, as Doctor Kim sits down beside you.

“You got into a car accident, Y/N. You were in a coma for a year.” He tells you, as your brain tries to process everything in. “You remember your name, so you most likely didn’t lose your memory. Or is there anything you don’t remember?”

You try to think. You know your full name, and your birthday. You know your parents’ names. You know where you study, what you’re taking up, and even some of the professors you hate the most. You know your friends, and the name of your pet. 

You shake your head, and Doctor Kim smiles at you. “Great. Seeing as there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re free to go. Your parents are already filling out the forms so you’ll be out by tomorrow. If ever you suddenly realize that you’re missing a piece of your memory, don’t hesitate to contact us right away. Aside from that, you’ll also have weekly check-ups with me until I’m fully assured that you’re okay.”

You give him a nod and a small smile. “I understand. Thank you, Doctor.” He gives you a curt nod before slipping out of the room quietly. You let out a long tired sigh, despite just having woken up from a coma. You lean back on the bed, your mind racing with a million thoughts.

You didn’t tell him, but you were sure you were missing something. You didn’t know what, exactly, so you decided against telling him. What would you even tell him anyway? Your gut tells you something’s missing but you don’t know what it is? That wouldn’t make sense anyway.

“Y/N! You’re awake now!” A bright, cheery voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and your eyes land on a smiling, blonde haired boy.

“Chan,” the name falls off your lips with ease, your heart warming up at the sight of your best friend. He rushes over to your side, grabbing your hand to grasp it in his. The gentleness of his hand holding yours feels familiar and you feel yourself smiling. 

“I was so scared you lost your memory and forgot about me,” Chan sighs, his eyes looking downcast. You squeeze his hand gently. 

“How could I forget the only person who always drags me to work out at the gym with him against my own will?” you tease and he lets out a loud laugh.

“I won’t drag you along with me now. At least, not until you’ve fully recovered,” he winks and you give him a playful roll of your eyes as he smiles wistfully at you.

“What is it?” you ask, tilting your head as you study his expression.

He shakes his head, pursing his lips. “Nothing. I’m just glad you remember everything.”

Chan spends a few more hours with you before he has to leave, saying he still needs to work on a few more of his songs. He gives you one last hug before leaving you alone to your thoughts once more.

Everything feels weird. Everything about Chan still feels the same. He’s still your best friend, and there’s still that familiar warmth of his hand holding yours. His laugh still sounds the same. Nothing’s different, nothing feels unfamiliar.

But why does it feel like you can feel a warm hand holding yours long after Chan’s hand lets go of it? Why does it feel like you can hear someone else’s laughter ringing in the silence long after Chan’s laughter has died down?

The next day you find yourself back at home, missing the familiar, homey scent of your surroundings. This was definitely better than the bleach and betadine trademark scent of the hospital. Your parents leave you to collect your thoughts, giving you some time and space to yourself first. 

You climb up the stairs to your room, feeling drained from the car ride back home. You had a long day, and it was past five in the afternoon. The sky was dark already, since you were still early into January and still a few months away from blooming flowers and cherry blossoms falling. You climb under your covers, smiling at how familiar it all feels.

Still, something’s crawling at the back of your mind when you turn on your side. Your hand reaches out, feeling the sheets, hoping to find some sort of answer to the nagging question you’ve had since yesterday. 

What were you missing?

Sleep eventually consumes you and your eyes shut close, momentarily putting a halt on the nonstop thinking.

You missed dinner and it’s already 12:15 am when a strong breeze blows in through your room, pushing your windows open. The strong gust of wind hits your bare skin, and the coolness wakes you up with a shiver. Your eyes glance at the clock on your bedside and as the red numbers glare at you, your eyes widen.

You remember his doe-like eyes and his giggles full of mirth. You remember the little scar on his left cheek and his plush lips. You remember his soulful voice when he sang for you and how he holds you in his arms when you dance around in your room into the late night. You remember him taking his coat off to wrap you in it the first time you met. You remember him telling you you’ll get sick if you continued crying. You remember feeling his warmth surround you during your first meeting. You remember how he holds your hands in his, how he hugs you with so much care. You remember how he picked up the broken pieces of your shattered heart that night, putting it back together little by little, piece by piece over the days, weeks, and months that you got to know him. 

You remember how he snuck into your room that night, reminding you that it’s been one year since you met at that frozen lake that holds so much sentimental value for you. You remember telling him you love him, and how he tells you he feels the exact same way. You remember falling asleep in his arms that night, you remember his soft lips against your forehead kissing you good night.

You remember how he leaves you that same day, telling you to still be happy even without him. You remember kissing him for the first and last time. You remember clutching onto his embrace, hearing him say he loves you one last time before opening your eyes and finding no trace of him anywhere.

You remember every moment, every memory, every fleeting moment you had with him. You remember how he made you feel — every time he made you laugh, every time he made you feel loved. 

You remember him. You remember Jeon Jeongguk. 

Tears start streaming down your face as you grab your phone, searching his name through your contacts. But you find nothing. Your fingers type out his number instead, memorizing it by heart, but your call goes straight to voicemail. You don’t stop there, you pull up almost every social media account you have, hoping to find any trace of him in your friends or your following list. You remember taking a thousand pictures with him, posting them all the time.

But there’s nothing about him. Your breathing gets ragged as your fingers fumble through your phone, calling your best friend. Knowing him, he’s still awake at this hour.

“Y/N? Hey, why are you still-”

“Chan? Chan, where’s Jeongguk? Did he tell you where he’s going? He never told me but maybe you know where he is?” You cut him off, tears still streaming down your face as you stutter out your inquiries.

“Jeongguk? Y/N, where are you? Are you outside? I’m going to pick you up, tell me where you are.” Chan says worriedly, and you can hear him cursing lowly under his breath and the sounds of keys jingling in the background.

“No, I’m at home. Chan, where is he? Why did he go? Why did he leave me without telling me where he’s going?” You’re sobbing into the phone now and Chan’s door shuts behind him as he sighs.

“Y/N, I need you to stay there until I get to you, okay? Wait for me.” You shake your head but remember he can’t see you.

“Chan, just tell me where he is. Please.” You’re begging now and you can feel the heartbreak rising up your throat, making you feel suffocated. You can’t breathe properly, but the next words you hear knock the breath out of your lungs.

“He’s dead, Y/N. He died saving you.”

iv.

“You were crossing the street when he saw you. He immediately ran over to push you out of the way. Your head hit the pavement, but he couldn’t get out of the way in time to save himself. He died the moment you both made it to the hospital.” Chan tells you slowly, his car coming to a stop by the park. Tears were flowing silently down your cheeks.

“But I met him, Chan. I spent an entire year with him.” you try to insist, turning over to face Chan whose eyes are glossy with tears now. 

“You were in a coma, Y/N. You didn’t know each other before the accident either. How could you have possibly met him?” Chan sighs.

“Chan, I loved him for an entire year! Was he just a figment of my imagination then?” You cry louder, your heart breaking. Chan looks up in thought with a sad sigh, before turning to face you.

“Dead people have regrets. Jeongguk must have had his own regrets and didn’t want to leave just yet. Your wandering soul met his ghost that same night. But after spending a year loving you, he has to go. Maybe all he wanted was to make you happy. And now that he’s accomplished that, his time is up.” Chan explains and you close your eyes tightly, wishing for all of this to just be a huge nightmare.

But it isn’t.

“Can I get some fresh air for a bit?” You ask and Chan leans over the console to give you a hug. He opens the door from behind you and you give him a grateful smile before heading out. Your feet lead you to the very same spot again. 

And just like the last time you were here, the lake is frozen over. Everything feels like déjà vu again. You crouch down on your knees with a sad, long sigh, your tears slowing down as they fall past your cheeks and down your chin.

You’re going to have to be happy without me now, okay?

I can’t stay here with you, Y/N.

Even when I’m gone, I’ll always be here,

I’m never going to truly leave you behind, Y/N. But I need you to be happy even without me. Can you promise me that?

It’s going to be hard, but can you do it? For me?

I love you, always remember that.

His last words ring in your ears, your hands coming up to clutch your chest as you feel your heartbeat. The wind blows softly, your hair fluttering in the wind as you wait for the usual shiver to come.

But you don’t feel it. Instead, you feel a blanket of warmth envelop you and you stop crying.

It’s barely there, but you can feel it. You can feel him. 

“Jeongguk.” You whisper softly, your breath raspy from crying so much.

“I told you you’re going to get sick if you keep crying in this weather, angel. Why do you love crying in the winter?” His gentle voice rings in your ears and you bite on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying again. 

“I miss you.” you answer simply, and a gentle breeze blows again as you feel a soft kiss on your hair.

“I miss you too. But please be happy, okay? Don’t blame yourself. I never regret saving you that night, not even once.” He says gently as you nod rapidly. “I’ll see you soon, I’m going to wait for you. I love you, I always have, I always will.” 

You’re scared he’s going to leave again like last time without hearing you say the words back, but his warmth still surrounds you. “I love you too.”

And as the words leave your lips and form into clouds of smoke into the cold, dark night, the warmth surrounding you slowly disappears, leaving you with the familiar, stinging, cold winter air. Jeongguk always calls you angel but you realize that after all this time, he was your angel. From the moment he saved you that night, to piecing your broken heart back together, up until his last ‘I love you’, he’s been your angel.

And he always will be.

[daintykeith]

RUN KID RUN

Title: Run Kid Run

Summary: Dutch and Hosea are trying to teach John how to read but he runs off after they got frustrated and Arthur goes deep into the woods looking for John.

Word count: 2298

Notes: mild cursing | brief scene despicting an almost hanging | feedback is appreciated!!!

Tags: @onlytherocksliveforever

Happy late Christmas and Happy new year! I’m sorry I’m so late, this took me forever; I’ve been giving it a long thought and decided to comply to your second item in your wish list!

2) i love DUMB ASS John Marston and his better looking brother Arthur; give me a slice of life with the two of them pre-canon, or a story about them helping the other thru a tough time.

I’ve decided to combine both ideas and so this story came to be.

When Arthur was twenty-three, he saw a boy—dirty, savage and with a look in his eyes that had given up on living. This boy was with a rope in his neck, ready to be hanged. Dark gray with no reflection but death itself; no tears, no regret. Dead Eyes that held onto dear life with a fierceness reflected in his fists.

Next to the boy, an unnamed man spoke words of dead wisdom and nonsense which to the eyes of Arthur was meaningless.

“We have come to see the of law enacted. We will not sit idly by as people take the law into their own hands!”

Heavy kind of bullshit that Arthur didn’t enjoy a bit.

The crowd of the town roared loudly in excitement and agreement. For them, it was only entertainment, a show that made Arthur’s gut churn with anger. He tilted his hat lower and turned around, ready to move on. However, Dutch’s hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him.

“He looks like you did, a while ago,” Dutch said with a smirk before the gun in his hip shot the rope on the boy’s neck.

“He doesn’t.”

The boy’s shine returned in a glimpse that Arthur caught with both his eyes and heart. A will to fight and survive, to get the hell out of the mess that was about to start.

“What the hell Dutch?!”

“He was not meant to. Not yet.”

A sense of relief in his chest appeared with a long deep breath. He was glad for the boy that had gotten a chance to live, what was Dutch and Hosea thinking when they brought him into camp?

Arthur got wounded in the dirty fight they had in town for freeing the boy and he was resting in his tent, with Susan on his side cleaning his injuries. When Dutch and Hosea walked in, he asked: “What took ya’ so long?” with a warm grin that quickly faded into disbelief.

The boy stood between the two men, pouting his lips, frowning and crossing his arms as means to make himself more intimidating. The way Dutch smiled, looked and treated him with his gentle gestures and Hosea had given his jacket to protect him from the chilling breeze of that night was so familiar to Arthur; he had been in that place after all. What was that boy doing in camp? Similar to himself in the past, why did they needed to bring someone as intense and dumb as him? Wasn’t one dumb enough? He wondered.

“What’s your name, kid?” Arthur asked after he noticed Dutch’s gaze on him.

The boy stood silent.

“Come on boy, tell him.” Dutch crouched to his side and whispered words to him that Arthur wasn’t able to hear.

He remained silent.

When Arthur was twenty-four, he met the boy. A month had passed from his rescue and Arthur’s birthday quickly arrived with the cold and mean air of winter. There was no snow landscape yet, the skies had become dark and gray like the boy’s eyes and the fallen leaves

“John Marston,” the boy said with a mean streak that left Arthur with a bad taste in his tongue.

“Arthur Morgan.” He extended his hand to greet but John had already abandoned and left him with the words unsaid in his lips.

Arthur sighed and placed his hands on his gun belt; he could see John’s silhouette far away, hiding somewhere where he thought no one could see him, and grinned. A part of him still refused to acknowledge John, prouder than a bull and wilder than a cougar in a midnight sky, and another part of him found itself in that boy who slept with a knife under his pillow.

“John, come here!” Dutch called the next morning.

Arthur was laying in comfortably in his bed, with his worn-out leather hat covering his eyes, thinking about what to draw in his journal. A bird? A flower? An herb? His imagination was as dull as dishwater and his brain couldn’t tell skunks from house cats. Boredom was partly guilty of the dullness, too.

“John, come on.” From his closed tent, Arthur saw how Hosea’s figure grabbed John’s arm and took him somewhere beyond the reach of their shadow. A loud growl, from the boy, echoed through the whole camp that Arthur scoff. The boy was that stubborn?

The blue-eyed man closed his journal, stood up from his bed and walked out of his tent to do the chores of the day. As he chopped wood, he could see Dutch and Hosea, with John between them, sitting together in one of the round tables near the food station with a book in hand. This was going to be fun to see, Arthur thought.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Dutch said firmly. “Read this part here.”

“No,” John scowled.

“Why not? It’s not that hard if you try. Here. The king in his…” Hosea slowly talked

John went silent.

“Boy,” Dutch lowly growled.

Arthur swung his axe over the log and splat it in half. When he was putting the wood aside, he peeked at John. The boy had his arms crossed, frowning and giving the book in the table a deadly gaze. Did he hate reading that much? Arthur laughed to himself and got caught by Hosea who looked at him with disapproval. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He tried to slowly walk away, feigning ignorance, but the older man approached quicker than he predicted and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Arthur.” Hosea squeezed hard the shoulder blade and grinned in a way that created grimace in Arthur’s expression, “wanna’ join us? I thought I could show you the new book I got!”

Arthur grunted.

Just great. He knew Hosea’s way of scolding Arthur and thinking about it annoyed him, however, he didn’t expect to see Dutch vexed, red-faced and squeezing the book with both his hands, yelling to John.

On the other hand, Hosea was perplexed. He dragged his hands over his now tired face and sighed.

“He wasn’t this troublesome!” Dutch said to Hosea, referring obviously to Arthur.

Something in that statement made Arthur chest puff in pride. Oh boy, he really liked that. Even if he refused to acknowledge this feeling to everyone else, he liked it when Dutch or Hosea praised him.

Arthur remembered the days when Dutch and Hosea were teaching him to read. Hot summer days, mosquitoes everywhere and that smell he couldn’t forget, berries and lemon, which brought his mind ten years back, when he was a thin, small and young boy. He grinned to the loveable thought and looked at Dutch fighting with John.

“Dutch, what’re ya doin’!? Don’t ya’ grab him like that and rub his head!”

“I know he can do it, but he’s not even trying!”

Something Arthur knew is that Dutch would take as “true” whatever he assumed; and hardly took back his words—standing for what he believed, a true blessing for the wise and a curse for the ignorant. Later on, Arthur didn’t know which of those Dutch was. A true mystery until the very end.

“Dutch, calm down, you’re gonna scare ‘im…”

“But I know he can—"

“Shut up, you pair of dimwits!” Susan yelled from afar as she sewed one of Arthur’s shirt.

And before any of them could say any further word, John slammed his hands against the table and ran away into the woods that surrounded the camp.

“Get back here, boy!”

What a mess. When Arthur saw no signs of Dutch calming down or Hosea backing down, he decided to look out for the now goner.

“John! Where are ya’!?” Arthur yelled as he stomped over some broken sticks. Definitively John.

“Ya’ damn bastard, dontchu’ ever get tired?” he whispered to himself, wondering as he furrowed his brows and rushed his pace.

As he walked deeper into the woods, the stars that normally would be faded under sunlight, had come out without any shame, telling Arthur to hurry. The breeze got colder and the sky darker and even if he found clues of where he could have gone to, the boy sure knew how to keep out of sight. He was going nuts; what the hell was the kid running from?! He had nothing to run from and nowhere to go, what was he thinking?

“John!” He called once more before he heard a gasp to his side.

The moment he turned his head, he saw a terrified boy who had fallen into the ground. Unlike the first time he saw him, fierceness shone in his eyes despite of the fear that his thin body could not hide—however, that didn’t mean it wasn’t agile. He quickly got up into his feet and started running towards the glowing moon.

“Oh no, you ain’t!”

He could hear John’s broken breathing and how he gasped for the air he didn’t have; it broke Arthur’s heart.

“Watchu’ running from, kid?!”

Arthur got closer with every step he took and grabbed without any restrains John’s wrist to stop him, quite brusque for his liking but there was nothing he could do. Those iron eyes gazed at him with the loathe and anger he deserved which left a sour flavor in his mouth. John struggled to free himself from Arthur’s grip but it only got stronger.

“Lemme ask you again, kid. Watchu’ running from?”

John struggled again and Arthur grabbed his other wrist. He took a deep breathe and closed his eyes for a moment. Was it this hard for everyone else to deal with him? Being a kid in the streets wasn’t easy, it roughens you up in a way that shatters what you truly are, breaking and eventually rotting every corner in your mind. But he was no kid in the streets no more, he could finally begin living and not just survive.

“He wanted to kill me,” John replied in a quick low whisper.

Arthur raised a brow. “Dutch was shootin’ his mouth off and by now Hosea and Susan must have given ‘im a black eye for that.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“Let go!” John fought with all his strengths to free himself; Arthur tightened his grip.

“Listen to me, kid. You got nothing to run from; here you got a bed, food and people who want ya’—”

“Dead…” John interrupted.

“Let me finish! Goddamit—as I was saying. None of ‘em want ya’ to be a goner.”

“How can I trust you? They all said I was an idiot, useless. They all hate me and they’ll kill me. It’s better if I’m gone.”

“We’re family.” Arthur meant it. He had found a part of himself in the little black-haired boy that wanted to keep running; running to never look back, from all the things he didn’t deserve.

“We ain’t.”

“Listen to me you little piece of…! You became part of us the very moment Dutch cut that rope on your neck and brought you into the camp.”

“Still; that doesn’t mean I can trust you guys. You’re outlaws.”

John wasn’t buying a single bit of what Arthur was saying. Shit. At this rate he was gonna run off by himself and God knows what would happen to him.

“They took me in when I was your age.” John’s eyes widened in curiosity; “I… well, my momma died when I was real young and my daddy… let’s say I wish he did too. They taught me how to read and Hosea taught me how to draw.”

Despite of the nervousness inside him, Arthur took the journal out of his satchel and gave it to John without letting go of one of his wrists. He eagerly flipped through the pages and stopped to look at some of the drawings it contained; some of the graphite stuck into his fingers, but it didn’t stop him from eyeing with detail each illustration.

“Why didn’t ya’ read? Back then, when Dutch and Hosea asked you to.”

There was a long pregnant pause. “I did—read it, I mean. I, uh, wasn’t sure to er, say it out loud.”

“Really?” Arthur smiled from ear to ear. “See? You’re smart, John! Ya’ ain’t that bad, there’s potential.”

John blushed at Arthur’s praise and kept looking at the drawings until he reached the last one, that page that had remained blank for the whole day.

“They are family to me. Family is everything; I’d die for it.” His voice didn’t shake even once.

John closed the journal and gave Arthur a gaze full of admiration that Arthur wasn’t worthy of. He could be one nasty son-of-a-bitch, rash to anger and emotions; unfamiliar to giving inspirational speeches like Dutch would do or smooth-talking like Hosea the Conman.

“And I will…” he stuttered, “I, uh…”

“You what.”

“I won’t let them kill ya’; just in case.”

A mischievous grin appeared in John’s face. “That won’t stop me tho.”

Arthur had let his guard down. John escaped from his grip and started to run the fastest he could. Where the hell was he going to and, most importantly, where the heck had he gotten all that damn energy from?

“Cuz’ I’ll kill ya’ myself, you little piece of shit!”

“Thank you, brother” John screamed in the distance.

“You ain’t got the right to be my brother!” Yet, he wanted to say but kept it to himself.

That day, when Arthur was twenty-four, his family grew by one member. Even if mocked him every now and then and behaved like assholes, it was the most important thing to Arthur. It was everything he had—not like money or gold; those two could go straight to hell unless Dutch and Hosea gave the word.

[luuxxart]

THIS IS ME ASKING FOR YOUR FERDITHEABERT HEADCANONS I didn't even know how badly I needed this ot3!!

THABK YOU FOR ENABLIGN ME

SO MUCH under the cut

I’m gonna go with individual ships first and then branch into ferditheabert that way it’s easier to sort of chronicle ???

Also someone remind me to write a fic one day im literally going to go through an entire plotline over here sndmdkdkdkd

Pre-Timeskip Ferdithea

I think this one would be the one that would happen first

I’m a whore for canon so everything definitely happens according to the supports imo

Ferdinand sort of just goes with the flow and is nice to everyone but anyone with eyes can see he’s madly in love with Dorothea

Just absolutely head over heels like

“If you asked me to jump off a bridge right now I would go do it” kind of head over heels madly in love

Dorothea is aware but is trying very hard not to be

She doesn’t really get it because she’s still under the impression he was gawking at her in the fountain and suddenly feels guilty about it now that they’re pretty much on the same pedestal

And as Dorothea navigates how she feels about Ferdinand and his adoration of her, she turns to Hubert’s relationship with Edelgard

Pre-Timeskip Huberthea

Dorothea pesters Hubert endlessly about his feelings for Edelgard

Knowing that his feelings for her aren’t romantic is relieving, but she’s not sure why

Especially because this now makes Ferdinand’s doting on her even more confusing

So she hangs around Hubert, much to his annoyance, to see what fuels his drive for Edelgard

She ends up doing a few tasks with him like buying some Bergamot, polishing axes, and eventually uh

They touch hands

While harvesting some Noa Fruit

And the ensuing weekend dinner with the Professor becomes all the more awkward because of course the Professor is playing matchmaker after noticing the time they’ve been spending together

Then one day Dorothea notices Hubert drinking coffee and is like

Holy shit that stuff we used to drink to stay up for five fucking acts of an opera how do you drink that

But he makes a bombass brew and suddenly the caffeine addiction is back

They don’t really talk about the almost-touches and the wistful talks about romance that don’t really go anywhere

But Dorothea manages to convince Hubert to do some things for himself (like planting coffee beans in the greenhouse and like vent)

And Hubert’s errands for Edelgard takes Dorothea’s mind off the stress of finding a suitor

Because devotion to someone or something is ,,, honestly a lot more important than money

And holy shit maybe there’s something to Ferdinand’s actions?????

Oh well better ignore it for now

Pre-Timeskip Ferdibert

But this is where it gets cOMPLICATED folks

Hubert is VERY aware that what he has with Dorothea is bordering romantic but he’s trying to push that down a because he feels like he doesn’t deserve someone who could be as devoted to him as he is to them

He’s ALSO trying to push down his feelings for Ferdinand mostly because he knows that Ferdinand is currently pursuing Dorothea

So Hubert is caught in the middle between the two

If at all, he tries to focus a little more on his attraction to Ferdinand because he understands that Dorothea is currently not interested in either one of them

(or else she would’ve said something, right????)

Also, due to Ferdinand being heir apparent to the prime ministry, Hubert has an excuse to keep watch over him

I mean

What can I say except Hubert is morosexual

He wants someone to fix/take care of and currently Dorothea is not exhibiting that need

Ferdinand tho? dude would literally lose his head if it weren’t attached to his neck

Eventually Hubert draws up a proposal to have a double prime ministry so that he can overlook Ferdinand’s actions in the future

He ends up tucking the draft into a drawer, but the idea tends to sit at the tip of his tongue every time he sees Ferdinand

He’s afraid Ferdinand will see it for what it is

A proposal proposal

And that’s exactly what it is

And he (no thoughts) talks to Dorothea about it and she (head empty) encourages him to propose it at the dance

Pre-Timeskip Goddess Tower

so after presumably edelethy actions have happened and the goddess tower becomes unoccupied,

Hubert asks Ferdinand to accompany him up to the tower for the government proposal™️

Ferdinand doesn’t suspect anything

But then they get up there and Dorothea is there, waiting to pour her heart out to Hubert because she realizes if she doesn’t nip it in the bud, she’ll never have a devoted suitor (and also she still doesn’t realize that this is a proposal proposal)

So then it basically becomes that spiderman meme with all the spidermen pointing at each other because they all have dumb stupid crushes on each other

Problem is they’re all young and dumb and they don’t know how to sort it out so they just don’t and leave

Post-Timeskip Ferdithea

So war happens and everyone’s pretty distant from each other

Then the Professor comes back and is extremely upset to see all the rifts between everyone

So everyone kind of tries

But that’s hard because it’s been five years and the rifts are now pretty much ravines

Ferdinand finally gets the nerve up to talk to Dorothea again because he’s at his breaking point

He can’t stand not talking to either of them and Dorothea’s more open to talking

Their A support happens and Dorothea finally understands why Ferdinand did the things he did

ONLY PROBLEM IS

NOW HUBERT/EDELGARD IS VERY CONFUSING AGAIN

Post-Timeskip Huberthea

So Dorothea finally confronts Hubert again and asks him again if he truly loves Edelgard

He decidedly does not

He also decidedly does not want to speak to Dorothea after the Goddess Tower Incident

Dorothea begs him to at least speak to Ferdinand

Hubert considers this

Post-Timeskip Ferdibert

Meanwhile, Ferdinand is mending the bridge between himself and Hubert

They have their A+ Support

They start doing missions together

And after Hubert protects Ferdinand from a close call with a Faerghus fusillade, Ferdinand starts to see what Dorothea saw in Hubert

Uh the devotion that is

Now Ferdiberthea :)

So have i said devotion enough yet? Because that’s the name of the game

And Dorothea fuckiNg misses Hubert

and Ferdinand is pretty much spending all his time with Hubert so Dorothea ends up missing him a lot too

(Also at this point both Ferdithea/ferdibert have become an unspoken thing around Garreg Mach and everyone is VERY confused)

(Except the Professor who is watching their matchmaking attempts come to fruition)

So anyway Dorothea has Edelgard arrange for her to go on the next mission with Hubert and Ferdinand

And OOPS ITS WINTER AND THEY ALL GET STRANDED IN A SMALL TOWN WITH ONLY A ONE BED ROOM OPEN AT AN INN

it’s a king size don’t worry

They just have to get used to each other’s company for a long Pegasus Moon

Ferdinand catches onto the coldness between Hubert and Dorothea so he tries to find situations to get them alone together

So after a couple of those moments, Hubert and Dorothea have a colder version of their A support out in the small town market

There’s some crying, some consoling, and a passionate makeout back at the inn followed by Ferdinand reaping the spoils by joining in

When they get back to Garreg Mach, they become an impervious wall of magic and equestrian fighting

They also become an impervious wall of love and devotion

Miscellaneous headcanons

Ferdinand always sleeps in the middle just because Hubert and Dorothea can be all over each other one minute, and suddenly need space the next

It’s not that they don’t like each other, they’re just both A LOT sometimes

Dorothea and Hubert often stay up longer than Ferdinand because they are very avid coffee drinkers

They double team carrying him back to the bedroom if he ends up nodding off at a late night war meeting

One thing to keep in mind is that I also headcanon Hubert as trans

And so he has met Dorothea at an opera in person before Garreg Mach, she just doesn’t recognize him, and he’s gonna let it stay that way

But it was with her that he was introduced to coffee, which sort of helped him through Edelgard’s disappearance (if you count staying up until the crack of dawn to plan ways to rescue her as “help”)

Hubert will never admit that he’s sick because he is devoted to his royal duties

so Dorothea and Ferdinand take turns staying with him to make sure he doesn’t move and fulfilling his duties in his absence

Ferdinand is still very fuCking reckless and hes even more reckless in war so it takes both dark knight!Hubert and gremory!Dorothea (riding on Hubert’s horse usually) to keep great knight!Ferdinand in check

Were you also disappointed that Dorothea wasn’t a theater/opera kid meme? Me too.

Anyway she is. And so is Ferdinand. So they convert Hubert into operakidism and then proceed to annoy the rest of the black eagles endlessly with opera songs and dance numbers

Listen, if u haven’t seen the Manuela/Ferdinand supports,,, like

Manuela is an enabler of the opera kids just saying

also it is no secret that Ferdinand is a horse girl and he ends up turning the other two into horse girls as well and eventually the rest of the black eagles have to ban horses from conversation entirely

Pegasi were already banned from conversation because of Hubert

Eventually the three get married and have a couple kids by mage

They take an annual winter vacation in a small town to rekindle any sparks they might lose in the stress of governance

[vagarius]

misukazu 21

(if you saw me fuck up the other one no you didnt)

EDIT I THINK THIS ONE GOT A LITTLE FUCKED UP TOO BUT IT’S... READABLE...

questions from this post, and answers originally written for this thread!!

If you had to change the pairing’s very first meeting, how would you change it?    their canon first meeting is already so good SHDGFLJASHG but if i had to choose a different one that's still within the context of mankai... meeting as kids and losing touch and coming back together completely different at mankai

What song fits your pairing the most?    uhhHHhhHHH i don't have a real answer but i do have a partial playlist for one of my misukazu aus and the only two songs in it are furaregai girl by sayuri and champagne's for celebrating by mayday parade and i feel like that says enough sldhgalsdhfalsh

What is your favorite AU/prompt idea/trope for your pairing?     ALL MISUKAZU AUS ARE GOOD but. i really love any au where their first meeting is in the future and both are still kind of lost but they're Older and it's hard to let themselves fall into the easy trust they find in canon. i just think that'd be neat.

Do you prefer canon ideas or do you have your own headcanons for them?     I'VE SAID THIS MANY TIMES BUT CANON MISUKAZU GIVES OFF MADE FOR EACH OTHER VIBES AND USUALLY I DON'T VIBE WITH THAT BUT THEY REALLY ARE WHAT THE OTHER NEEDS... AND I THINK EVEN IF THEY HAD TO PART THEY'D STILL BE ABLE TO BE BETTER PEOPLE BC THEY HAD MET

Favorite canon moment of them?     THERE ARE SO MANY but the one that immediately comes to mind is misumi carrying drunk kazu to bed (latest bday line) because drunk kazu is so soft and it implies that misumi wanted to wish happy birthday to kazu pretty late... what did he want to give him...

Least favorite canon moment of them?     hmm... there's not really one i can think of??? IM SORRY I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY I LOVE ALL THEIR CANON MOMENTS

Favorite headcanon trope/idea? (Your own or someone else’s)    this is somehow both vague and very specific but i think misukazu gives off this vibe: He's beautiful. I can't tell him. or "Kazu is always beautiful~" Don't call me that, Kazu thinks. I'm not. so... insecurities i guess ????? AJSHAJJD

Favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics?     THIS IS GOING TO SOUND SO CHEESY but i love how /real/ they allow themselves to be around each other. misukazu at their best is when one thinks "you're you. and i love that you" and the other knows this. i just. THEY VALIDATE THE OTHER SO MUCH CRIES

Least favorite aspect of them/their relationship dynamics? (Can be headcannon)     this isn't a "least fav" so much as "it makes me sad" but if either of them showed any sign of not being interested anymore the other is more likely to give up then push anything. sort of like "it was bound to happen, so i'll enjoy now until they drop me" or EVEN WORSE they think the other would be better off without them and pushes them away. so yeah the fact i can see one of these happening makes me sad.

If they aren’t a canon pairing, how would you get them together?     they give off "everyone knows we're dating but us" energy but at the same time i feel like they'd acknowledge there's something and just not define it bc a) they don't need to (misumi) or b) they're too nervous to (kazu). in other words i think one day they are holding hands and misumi says "kazu? is this dating?" and kazu holds his breath before asking "do you want it to be?"

If you had to take them and plunk them into another fandom, what fandom would that be? Why?     i think theyd be hilarious in any sports animanga (kazu is manager tho bc noodle arms but maybe they bond when misumi walks him through some of his usual training menu one night - ahem. anyway) BUT ALSO horimiya au...

How hard is it write/draw your pairing? Scale of 1-10.     AJDHAJDHSF I REALLY LOVE THEM SO IT COMES PRETTY EASILY... but sometimes you try to put them in tropes and realize they would Just Not Work Like That. idk where i'm going with this. but yeah. anyway 3 for sankaku.

Is there a pairing that you think rivals them?     in terms of what i ship, i tend to ship kazu and misumi individually with a lot of dif charas AJDHAKD. but in terms of like... in-universe "rival" pairings: kazu side: tsuzukazu (maybe, lbr it would take them 273924 yrs to actually get together), kazu x someone from winter (i... have my reasons but they'd take longer than what this answer entails) misumi side: ... surprisingly none that i can think of ahdjahd

Which character of the pairing do you like more? (Would you ever pair yourself with them?)     you know that tweet that's like "sometimes a ship is just your two favs"? yeah that's misukazu for me. but if i had to choose... misumi AJDHAJHDSF I HONESTLY WASNT THAT INTO YUME UNTIL THESE TWO CAME AROUND (NOT COUNTING 707)... but yeah if they wanted to hold me in their arms i wouldn't oppose

Which character of your pairing would be the one to break up with the other? Why?     OOOOOH BOY well. i think it could be either of them. i don't think they'd break up for lack of love but too much love and wanting the other to be happy and thinking that the only way to give them that is to let them go. so i guess the question is which of them would be more likely to be selfish and hold on. thinking this way, i think misumi would be more likely to break-up, bc kazu has lots of friends who are better than him!! and misumi is more ready to leave if he thinks he needs to than kazu is. now im sad.

Are they relatable as characters or as a pairing?     THE NUMBER OF TIMES I'VE BEEN CALLED KAZU KIN... in all seriousness kazu's struggles with speaking out and (shinobi spoilers) his uncertainty over his future hit real close to home... while i don't relate as much as misumi, his struggles always manage to tear my heart into pieces... ((oversharing alert) i guess what really separates me from misumi is his struggle with his desire to connect with family who has treated him poorly... whereas im more "lol fuck you") tldr i relate to kazu slightly more LOL

Did you once/ever dislike one/both of them?     i never disliked them but i was NOT expecting either of them to shoot up so quickly into my favs list ahdjahdjf. also i started shipping them Immediately After reading summer main story so there's that

On an estimate, how many posts have you made about them?    as of september 28th 2020 i make up 11/78 fics on ao3 in the romantic misukazu tag and 2/12 in the platonic one. i may have brainrot.

What made you decide to ship them?     TBH I FINISHED THE MAIN STORY AND WENT "OH MY GOD... THAT'S MY SHIP" but now that i'm here i continue to ship them because they have the potential to bring out both the best and the worst in each other and i'm all about that

Favorite genre for them? (Angst, fluff, etc.)     angst. i just. angst hurt/comfort all the way. im so sorry babies.

lol you thought there would just be 21 ANYWAY EXTRA 1: how do they spend breaks/vacation?    they'd travel a lot when they're older!! kazunari loves to travel and misumi would follow kazunari anywhere (also, new triangles!!) so they go somewhere new whenever they have the time. however i think eventually one or both of their future careers will take them anywhere and everywhere anyway, so their "ideal vacation" might turn into an evening in, cuddling and catching up (as if they didn't already send play-by-play updates over the phone of whatever they did during the day)

EXTRA 2: first date?     i don't they ever have an explicit first date, but if asked they'll cite the time they had a picnic in the park turned triangle hunt turned accidental dip in the duck pond. at least, kazunari will. misumi just tilts his head and wonders what you mean.

EXTRA 3: gifts?     IM FEELING REALLY CHEESY SO I'M MAKING THIS ABOUT ANNIVERSARY GIFTS they both end up getting each other jewelry (although kazu was really really nervous bc he wasn't sure if misumi would wear it). kazu gets misumi a bracelet (with triangles, of course although misumi only wears it sometimes because he doesn't want to lose it) and misumi gets kazu a pair of triangle earrings "so we can match!" and kazunari combusts at the implications

EXTRA 4: sharing clothes     THEY'RE ACTUALLY AROUND THE SAME SIZE (and tend to wear baggier stuff barring kazu's skinny jeans)... but they have completely different Styles so it's still really obvious when steal each other's stuff ahdjajdkaf. as cute as kazu would look in sumi's sweatshirt i think the much more likely scenario is kazu wrapping misumi in his jackets because this boy nEVER BRINGS HIS ANYWHERE anyway just. accidental shared wardrobe misukazu.

EXTRA 5: lake house au    consider: kazunari living in a house on the shore of a lake for a summer for Art Purposes (and a little bit for Dealing With Life purposes but he's not gonna admit that) and meets his lake neighbor misumi who kazu thinks might be a ghost or spirit for a while but he actually just lives further down the lake and misumi unknowingly helps kazu with his Life Issues and maybe they fall in love

[sheilarice1]

(Silver Death - Part 4)

Ew. I’m old:

"Holy shit."

"What? They aren't that bad. Besides, it was my own damned fault that I got them."

"That are very bad Lady of Silver. Only a great worrier could have walked away from battle with these wounds and survive."

"I'm going to agree with Thor. When I did this, it should have killed you."

"Nah. Hulk did it, not you. Besides I found a medic quick. I am fine. Oh and Thor. I'm no warrior. I am a cold blooded killer, nothing else."

With everyone staring I push back my chair and go back outside. While crossing the yard I can hear them trying to find out how I survived.

The answer is simple really. HYDRA messed with me and gave me serums and shots. I am way to strong for my own good and can heal quicker than most people. Even the famous Captain America.

Allowing my feet to take me where they wish I once again end up in my shed, not working just sitting in the rafters that hold the bay doors up. I have my own little nest up there.

My nest is basically where four joists meet with boards laying around them to make a platform. There are a few books and some blankets and a pillow up there. It's practically the only place I will sleep. Unless Winter is here. He'd have a fit if he new I slept out here.

Without realizing it I start to drift off until I hear voices coming down the ladder shaft.

"She needs an elevator. No wonder she has such great legs."

"Stark that's disgusting. And not everyone can afford to get an elevator."

"I agree with Nat. Don't be looking at her legs like that."

"Steve do you have a crush?!"

"No Tony! I don't even know her!"

"I'm pretty sure that Bucky wouldn't approve of your crush anyway. It's a good idea to keep it hidden."

"Not you to Natasha!"

"Sorry. I'm at the bottom!!"

Took them long enough. Why wouldn't they just slide down? It's so much faster.

Watching them from above they start walking around my shed looking at what I have. There are 4 doors leading off of the main area. That they notice.

Behind the doors are:

A bathroom/laundry room

A parts room

A computer/hacking room

And my armoury

They go to the bathroom, muttering about how small it is (Stark) and how nice the lighting is(Widow). When they go into the armoury and don't come out for 5 minutes I start to get curious. As I am about to jump from my platform they walk out.

Walking to the computer room I start to wonder what I have left running and what is easy to hack. I mean in their group of three-no five, Winter and Scarlett just came down- has Tony Stark an extraordinary computer expert and Black Widow an ex-assassin who hacked into SHEILD.

I'm screwed. They are going to find me out what I have been trying to figure out.

Who am I?

I know that my name is Jessica Rice, from my HYDRA file that I stole one day. It was like I never existed. It makes my job- figuring out who the hell I was- a lot harder.

Either they are going to find my scans for that or the files that I have from when I hacked HYDRA a few weeks back; they were mostly on Winter, and the doctor dude that did shit to us.

Jumping from my platform I turn myself invisible and land gracefully in a roll. By gracefully I mean I land on the heels of my feet creating a loud clapping noise that echoes through the shed.

Hopefully they assume I have dropped something while repairing the jet.

Never mind.

Widow walked out of the computer room with her gun in her hands looking for where the noise originated. Scarlett is trying to find out if anyone else is in the shed by doing her magic stuff.

One of her ribbon things gets a little to close for comfort and I simply side step towards the jet while trying to make absolutely no sound.

Success.

Walking out of the jet in plain sight -with earbuds in so they would assume that I hadn't heard them come in- I stop and look at them.

"Hi,"

"You weren't in there before. Like 10 minutes ago when we were looking for you."

"I was on top. By the way why are there dents on top of the jet?"

"Because Clint likes barrel roles."

"Okay. Anyway how long have you been down here? And what time is it?"

"Well darling-"

"Do. Not. Darling. Me. Stark."

"Okay. Fine, don't need to be such a grouch about it. We've been down here for like 15 minutes."

"What Tony is trying to say is we were looking for you because we were planing on heading into town to get some supplies."

"Thank you for the better explanation Scarlett. Winter why are you glaring at America?"

"Reasons."

"Whatever. Need a ride or are you planing on going on your own?"

"Well I am not sure what is in your town but Natasha was planing on coming with me."

"Okay. Well I can come if you want me to show you around."

"That would be lovely."

Now, why did I do that? She's been trying to get in my head since she got here and even with the failures she won't give up.

"Okay. Stark where'd you wander off to? I don't want you in here unsupervised."

"I'm a professional adult!" Whining now "Why can't I stay?"

"Because I don't want you breaking anything or snooping threw my files, blueprints or trying to hack my computer."

"Harsh. And how did you know that we found your computer?"

Shit. Um. Uh. Drawing a blank. This can't be good. Raise an eyebrow and roll your eyes.

Nodding towards the now closed door that hides the computer room

"I saw you go in there before I hopped down from the roof."

"Ah"

"But you were in there. I'm gonna make sure you didn't mess with anything."

Walking past him I go into my computer room.

My computer room is a dimly lit room that has 5 screens, a TV, a couple speakers and multiple different bits of a computer I took apart on the bench against the side wall. It's nothing special but it is helpful when hacking different places.

Checking the damage he has done is simple. He has barely even touched my computer that gets used the least. And even then only for music.

Rolling my eyes I leave and lock the door. A finger print scanner that is attached to a 5 digit key pad.

"No one answered my second question."

"What was is Silver?"

"What time is it Winter?"

"It was about 11:00am when Wanda and I came down."

I was in my nest for almost 2 hours. Wow. I guess it was more then drifting off.

Nodding towards the ladder they all file in. Stark, America, Scarlett, Widow, Myself then Winter. He is the only one I trust completely out of this whole group so far. But I am hoping to warm up to Hawkeye and Widow, they seem like people I could get along with.

While climbing I allow my mind to drift because they are so slow. Well, Stark is and he's first. My mind goes to the only memory I have as a child.

**flash back thing**

"Mommy look!"

"Jessica where did you find that? It should be locked away."

"The lock is broken mommy."

"Well. For a 4 year old you are pretty smart."

"Yup! 5x5 is 25!

"Who taught you that?"

"Uncle."

"Jessica. You don't have an uncle. Who taught you that?"

"The man with the smart son."

"Do you mean Mr. Howard? My boss?"

"Yes mommy."

"Okay. I'm going to take that and put it back and we are going to pretend hat the lock is not broken okay?"

"Okay! I like the pretend game. I am very good at it!"

"That you are Hun. What do you want to eat for supper?"

"Hmmm. Sgetti!"

"Spaghetti?"

"Yah!"

"Okay. Im gonna go put this away and then we are going to make spaghetti and our special sauce!!"

"Yay!"

I watched my mothers back as she walked dow the hallway to her room. I had picked the lock on mommy safe and was going to show her. But the worried sound in her voice told me not to let her know I picked the lock. But to make up a quick pretend.

**flash back thing over**

"The man with the smart son? You new Tony's dad?"

With Tony just reaching the top he started yelling

"Who new my dad? And I am smart!!"

"Silver new him. She called him her Uncle."

"I was little. He was my mothers boss. She often took me to work and left me with Howard. He enjoyed kids. And Scarlett please stay out of my head. That's practically the only memory that isn't violent and gruesome."

"How old are you?? My dad died in 1991. You said you were 24. The math doesn't add up."

"No. I should be 24. I don't think I was ever put in cryo freeze."

"You. Um. You were in Cryo a few times Silver. Only for about a year or eight each time but. You should be 48." Winter looks nervous while telling me this.

"Ew. I'm old."

With that everyone starts laughing.

"Shut up! Ugh. Are you girls ready for town? I wanna get away from these three."

"No we need to change."

Realizing they were still in the clothes that I gave them when they first arrived I feel guilty.

"You two coulda grabbed anything outta my closet or dresser. Or I shoulda realized you hadn't changed."

"Meh. On missions we don't change very often Silver."

"Are you sure Scarlett?"

"Yes. And so is Natasha."

"Well still sorry."

Making it into the house I send them into my room to pick out their outfits and would Winter aside.

"Don't let Any one into my lab shed thing. Especially Stark."

"Why?"

"I have files on HYDRA that they don't have. That I don't want them to have."

"What are the files on?"

"Me. My death count doubles you and Widows combined. I don't want them to know that."

"Silver. You can trust this team. They will understand."

"No they won't. Not once they see some of the names that are in there. I killed some of their friends and family James. They would hate me if they knew."

"Tony forgives me for killing his parents. The rest would forgive you."

"I doubt it."

With that I walk away and go to my truck. It has bullet proof with tinted windows. When the girls come out of the house they look happy and comfortable.

When they get in Widow sits in the front seat and Scarlett gets into the back. Their smiles disappear quickly.

This was gonna be a fun day.

[cami-chats]

My Blood Red Heart

Written for @marvelpolyshipbingo​

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Triggers: Winter Soldier/Red Room mentions

Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Bucky recognizes his forgotten soulmate while in the middle of a fight. Natasha saves him, they save the day, and Tony invites them back to the Tower. Falling for her was easy, so why not fall for him too? 

Square Filled: B2-Murder Strut

Read on AO3 or below 

The Soldier watched her run away, but there was no satisfaction in it, not when she was severely outgunned and still had the time to toss that fucking smirk over her shoulder as she went. She was the bigger threat. The target had gone down. He'd get back up, the Soldier knew that, but she could actually stop them if she wanted. She'd tricked him, and the only thing that had saved him was luck. She'd hit the glasses instead of an inch higher; that wasn't because of anything he'd done. 

His eyes followed her. She was taking a fairly straight path which would've been a mistake if she wasn't so obviously trying to prevent civilian casualties. "I have her," he said. If they went after her, they wouldn't even make it a full minute. "Find him." He vaulted over the concrete wall and landed on top of a car with a crash that made his legs ache for a moment. 

She ducked between two cars before he could raise his gun, and there were more cars on the other side of an overturned bus-- a miniature maze where the prize was pulling the trigger first. He strode to the other side of the road with sure steps, then slowed, glancing back and forth and listening for the smallest sound. She was too good to have loud steps, but he should be able to- he came to a stop. She was talking quietly, but it was enough. Calling for reinforcements wouldn't be enough to save her, but it could save the two men she'd been in the car with if the team accompanying him felt particularly useless today. 

He reached to his back with his left hand, fingers catching on a small bomb. He lowered himself and rolled it towards her, then straightened and raised his gun again; there was no way the bomb alone would kill her as she'd see it and dodge, but that would leave him with an opportunity. There was something familiar about her, more familiar than that shield the target had used on the bridge. His handler would mention it during the debrief, most likely, so he didn't need to think about it. The explosive went off and he tightened the gun to his shoulder, only to be thrown off balance when something hit the side of him and knocked the gun out of his hands. 

He didn't have the chance to get his feet under him before he heard the quick whir of a garrote wire, and he shoved his hand up near his neck. It just barely caught the wire in time, grinding against the metal of his hand, and as he tried to find his center again, the familiarity struck him again, more distinct than before. He stumbled backward and she hit a car with a grunt, but her grip didn't loosen. For a moment he tried to get the wire completely away, but the angle was bad and she had too much leverage where she was hanging off his shoulders. With his free hand, he reached up and gripped with the intent of throwing her over his shoulder. He started to, and then he froze, memories hitting him straight in the stomach like a brick. 

She fell barely a foot away from his aborted move. 

"Natasha," he gasped, and she stopped, half a second from throwing something at him. His eyes were wide, and he didn't know- what the hell was going on? He stumbled back half a step, bumping into the car again, and this time he didn't move. 

She got to her feet, still holding that small disc in her hands. Her expression was hopeful but her body language was wary, angled so that she could throw it at him and make a run for it if she needed. Smart, but she'd always been smart. "Yasha," she returned evenly. 

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, and he didn't even care how desperate it came out. 

She glanced over his shoulder nervously, then back at him. "Not now, we need to leave." 

He didn't know how to think about where he was or how he'd gotten to this specific point in time, but he could get them out. Leaving was easy. They started to run, moving together like no time had passed since they'd been on the same side. No words were necessary; when Natasha moved one way, he knew it meant they were about to take a hard left, and they moved in tandem. The deafening sound of a mini gun spitting bullets started, but it wasn't at them. She glanced towards the noise, slowly an almost unnoticeable amount. 

He grabbed her arm and made her keep pace, gruffly saying, "They'll be fine." The target was up, and without him the others didn't stand a chance. If they took too long, there would be news sites coming to film, and they wouldn't be able to kill him; they would definitely take too long, the idiots. 

They made it far enough away, he took off the mask, and she lifted a hoodie for him. In DC, there wasn't really such a thing as 'out of the way'. Where there wasn't video surveillance, there were guards, and most of the time there were both. So when they stopped to try and formulate a plan, it wasn't because they were completely hidden, it was because they were as out of the way as they could be. There weren't any safe houses that would actually be safe. Fury was dead-- god, Bucky had killed him, he hadn't thought about it at the time, but that had been the last major defense against Hydra and he'd shot that chance without a though-- Hill was in the wind likely dead, and Rogers and Wilson were the ones in need of rescue. 

Natasha let out a frustrated breath. "We need backup." But there wasn't any. 

"What about Stark?" 

Natasha looked at him sharply. "We aren't dragging him into this mess." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, staring at her flatly. "Right. Hydra taking over won't effect him at all." He knew it had been a damn long time since he'd known her, but since when did she care about people this way? Stark could more than take care of himself-- the multiple failed assassination attempts by Hydra were proof enough about that-- and if he could take care of himself, there was no reason for her to be worried. No reason that Bucky could think of right now, at least. 

"We aren't in New York." 

"He has a flying suit," Bucky said drily. 

"We have no way of contacting him," she tried. 

Bucky held up a phone he'd swiped from someone's bag-- they'd survive, they had another one for some reason. Hoodie pockets were great. He also had a couple snacks in there, but they were for after Natasha made the phone call that would save their asses. He cared about whatever was holding her back, but not more than he cared about their lives. 

With a regretful sigh, she snatched the phone from his hand and dialed, the number clearly memorized to perfection even though she couldn't have had much cause to use it. 

It was several, long rings before Tony answered, a confused, "Hello?" 

"It's Natasha." There was a shy, hesitant quality to her voice, and Bucky wondered when he'd stop being surprised by things now that he was... himself again. 

A pause, then, in a tone too casual to be genuine, Tony said, "You know, there was some footage of that epic battle you just got into. I know some drivers can be dumb, but I think you took it a little too hard this time. You gotta learn to take deep breaths and let it go. Maybe we should pencil you in for some meditation time with Bruce. So Steve and that other guy-- you know, the handsome one in the green shirt, he looks kinda familiar, maybe he should drop by when all is said and done-- got taken in by some people in SHIELD uniforms, and you vanished. I'd be offended you didn't call me in to join the party, but I'm guessing that's what this is. Unless you wanted to RSVP for the New Years party. Six months early is a bit much, but you spy types are always on top of things." 

Natasha smiled, but her tone was clear of it when she responded. "Not sure about New Years yet, but we could use some support down here." 

"Already in the suit. Where are you?" 

"What, you can't trace the call?" 

"Not while I'm tracking the transport that has Stevie-boy in it. Am I grabbing him or you first?" 

"Him. Yasha and I can survive a little longer without you." 

"Who the hell is Yasha?" 

Natasha's eyes flickered to Bucky. "Long story." 

"Okay," Tony said, drawing out the second syllable to show how much he didn't like that brushoff. "This number good to reach you at?" 

"We'll hold on to it until we hear from you." Normally she would ditch it right away, but there was no point when they had no other way to contact him. 

"I'd tell you when to expect a call except I'm breaking my own safety protocols right now, so maybe I'll die in a fiery twist of metal like my nanny always predicted. Stay safe," he said, then hung up. 

"You're close," Bucky noted. 

"Not really," she said, but she had to know that he could tell when she was lying. It was probably a soulmate thing that he always knew when she was telling the truth and when she wasn’t, because she'd always been able to fool handlers. 

Bucky didn't say anything to that, just pulled a cap from his hoodie pocket and offered it to her. 

She put it on and looped her hair through the hole in the back. "I did a profile on him right after Iron Man. We talk, but he doesn't trust me." 

"Anyone other than me trust you?" he asked, arm around her shoulders as they started walking again. 

"A few people." The one that recruited her to SHIELD. Fury, before he had died, maybe Hill as well. Steve might. He'd seen something about the Avengers before, but they seemed more like individuals with a common goal than a team. The fact that Natasha hadn't automatically called them was proof enough that they weren't a team. 

*

By the time the dust settled, it was obvious that Hydra had counted on Iron Man being out of the way. Bucky could recall some of Hydra talking about the Mandarin and the aftermath keeping Stark busy, but he didn't think that was important to share. Iron Man was there, a hell of a lot more firepower and brainpower than they'd planned for. Fury was alive and Hill was with him, which explained where they'd been at the start of this mess. Well, Fury was barely alive. He'd kind of been shot to hell, and Bucky made eye contact with him exactly once to make sure he wasn't taking it personally. Maybe Fury trusted Natasha, but Bucky was part of the much larger group of 'everyone else' aka 'people he didn't trust'. 

It was ridiculously impressive how much everyone trusted Natasha actually. She might think she was untrustworthy, but everyone in the room believed in her. Proof? They'd all given Bucky suspicious looks and Stark had outright asked why they were trusting the guy that had been attacking them a couple hours ago, and all Natasha had to say was, "He's on our side," to shut them up. 

"Anyone need a place to stay?" Tony asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, "Of course you do. You-" he pointed at Fury and Hill "-lost your fancy carriers and compromised your entire organization. And you three-" Steve, Natasha, and Sam, but not Bucky since he'd basically been a Hydra attack dog "-lost your homes when they fucked up. C'mon, the tower's great. Pepper won't even be able to get mad at me for inviting all of you back." 

"Why would Pepper be mad at you?" Steve asked. 

"She doesn't like half of you. Natasha's her buddy, but she doesn't know Sam or Bucky. You SHIELD higher ups though, you're on thin ice. Something about paperwork and an inefficient organization, I don't really know." 

As they'd been doing all day, they just listened to Tony and followed after him. It was easy to do that when Tony was constantly proving to make the right decisions. Besides, who else were they going to listen to? Fury? He was the only other one with ideas, but right now he was bedridden, so his usual intimidation tactics didn't work. Plus he had a hell of a lot of work to do to rebuild SHIELD, and none of them needed to be there for that. 

Tony decided that instead of flying out to the Tower and grabbing the quinjet to get all of them, they were just going to drive. Bucky wasn't allowed, Sam refused, and Steve was banned from ever driving when Tony was around. Natasha could have, but Tony offered then went off to find a rental. Which meant that none of them got to complain when he showed up in a minivan with a gleeful smile. Of course, that did mean that no one sat in the front seat next to him since Sam and Steve had paired off and Natasha wasn't letting Bucky out of arm's reach. 

"This is fun," Tony said. "It's like I'm the mom-friend of the group. Wait until Rhodey hears about this, he'll mock you all silly, normally I'm the one that has to deal with that. And since none of you are in the passenger seat and get to complain, you have to deal with my music." He turned on something with lots of drums and screeching guitars, but after the first song he switched it to only be sounding in the front. 

The rest of them were silent for most of the drive. Steve was trying to process the fact that Bucky was alive but was nothing like how he'd used to be. They wouldn't be able to talk about it with everyone here, and that was if they talked about it at all. Bucky was closed off, silent and brooding. Natasha had mentioned the phrase 'tall dark and handsome' before, and he was pretty sure that was the category Bucky fell into now, as opposed to well groomed and a gentleman like he'd been before. 

Sam... well Bucky didn't know Sam all that well, but he was probably thinking about how weird it was that one day he'd been having breakfast and the next he was in a minivan with half the Avengers plus a newly retired Hydra assassin. That had to mess with anyone. As for Bucky and Natasha, well, they were used to not talking. 

"Sorry I ripped the steering wheel out," Bucky said to Sam. 

Sam grunted. He probably wanted an apology for trying to kill him, but Bucky would spend the rest of his life saying that to people if he started now so he didn't care very much. 

"He's grumpy because he hasn't had something to eat all day," Natasha said. 

"That sounds like an excuse to go to McDonald's," Tony called from the front, opting to yell over the music rather than turn it down. But he did turn it down when he got to the drive thru window because he was a nice guy. And because he was an even nicer guy, he got burgers for everyone, not just himself and Sam. But he was the only one that got a milkshake. Not that Bucky or Natasha minded, but he hadn't even offered. It was the principle of the matter. 

"Do they know about you?" Bucky asked her in a low tone. Steve, with his enhanced hearing, would've been able to make out the words if he spoke Russian. 

"No." 

"You going to tell them?" 

"It hasn't come up." 

Bucky snorted. Just because no one had directly asked her if she was enhanced didn't mean the topic hadn't come up. She was on a team with other enhanced people, they had definitely talked about it before. 

*

Natasha wrote down a quick summary instead of a full report. "SHIELD has bigger problems than the specifics of how they fell," was her excuse, and Bucky couldn't agree more. Steve, on the other hand, wrote down every little detail. He didn't send it anywhere, so it was likely a way for him to work through what had happened. Not that Bucky was around by the time he finished. Tony went to the kitchen then his workshop, and Sam stuck close to Steve's side. Whether that was because he was nervous or some other-- maybe soulmate related-- reason, he wasn't sure. 

Natasha either had a regular room she crashed in, or she just knew which rooms were available for use, because she dragged Bucky off to one of them without checking with Stark. She locked the door as soon as they were both inside, then pointed at a door off to the side. "If you want to get cleaned up." 

Bucky didn't, really. He didn't want to do much of anything because that meant dealing with everything he couldn't remember and what he'd missed. But he'd always been able to listen to her, and right now was no exception. He walked towards the bathroom and started stripping off his tac vest. All the knives and guns lined up on a side table by the bed-- less than he should've had, he was running low after the fight-- before he went all the way into the bathroom. 

Memories were like sand-- you thought it was all gone until you shifted and found some more. It wasn't much, just the feeling whenever he untied his boots and pulled off his pants; it had been a while since he'd been able to do this in private. After the Red Room, he'd been kept on a damn short leash. Hydra didn't know what to do with him after that. Going on ice had hurt and made it worse for their long term plans for him. Wiping him hurt, but it did help them out temporarily. He'd been a weapon. Not an assassin, not the Fist of Hydra like Pierce had taken to calling him. A weapon, meticulously cleaned and maintained. Slight chinks were overlooked because he had still been the best weapon they had, even dealing with the issues that consistently and continuously cropped up. 

The shoes had blood and dirt, and everything had been drenched in water at one point. Air drying was bullshit and made him feel crusty. He didn't really know how good laundry machines were, but the black of his pants covered any bloodstains that were there so it might not matter in the end. 

He stepped in the tub and turned on the water. Did he know how to work it? No, but it's not like hot water from a shower faucet could burn him. When the water first came on, it was freezing, but it turned warm quickly. Perks of using a rich fella's shower. He saw Natasha come in, and she closed the bathroom door. Her clothes really were ruined. She hadn't had her suit, so she was in the same clothes that she'd had on the interstate. Civilian clothes couldn't take a pounding for shit. The mud probably wouldn't come out, and the blood definitely wouldn't; as she undressed, she tossed the clothes directly into the trashcan. 

There was dirt crusted into her hair. She probably wasn't happy about that, said it reminded her of wading through a sewer-- Bucky never had asked why she knew how that felt when she'd been in the Red Room since she was eight. She joined him in the shower, sliding the distorted glass door across so they were closed off. She leaned her forehead against his back, neither of them moving. 

"Do we have any clothes?" 

"There are extras in the closet." 

She hadn't checked since they entered, so she must have known that from past experience. Bucky sighed, grabbing the soap and rubbing it quickly across his chest and under his arms. It smelled pretty and floral, and it felt far too expensive. In the past fifty years, he'd had the type of soap that his healing factor had to work on. Effective in cleaning, but it stung like hell. 

Natasha helpfully moved her head from where she'd been leaning against him, but otherwise she did nothing, enjoying the steam and the company. 

A minute later, Bucky tried to move out of the way for her, but she stopped him with a hand on his waist and a raised eyebrow. "You're not getting out with your hair like that." 

Like what? His hair was fine. 

Natasha rolled her eyes like she'd been able to hear that and grabbed a blue bottle from the shelf. She squirted some of the shampoo-- also floral, dear lord, Bucky was going to smell like a fucking bouquet when he got out-- into her hand and started lathering it into Bucky's hair. He closed his eyes, ostensibly to make sure none of it got in, and leaned into her hands. She spent more time massaging his scalp than was strictly necessary, but he wasn't going to complain and she wasn't going to mention it either. 

"Rinse," she said, so Bucky tilted his head back and started to work on getting all the suds out. 

And after that, it was only fair to do her hair for her too. They stayed in there for a long time, but the water didn't turn cold-- perks of staying with someone rich. It was a good thing that they had nowhere to go, because now he didn't have to ask Natasha if they could stay; they had to. 

Bucky dried off then collapsed on the bed without bothering to look for those clothes Natasha had mentioned. Chances were they wouldn't fit anyways. Natasha got under the covers next to him. Then she sighed. "I left the light on." 

Bucky got up before she could do more than start to move, and he turned the light off before going back to bed. The mattress was like a goddamn marshmallow, the sheets a higher thread count than anything he'd touched before, and the blanket was already warming him up. It would be wonderful if it wasn't so different that it threw him off kilter. He didn't bother staying there for long before he got down and laid on the floor. 

"Mm Yasha, what're you doing?" 

"Sleeping," he grumbled. 

She pushed herself up and scooted more towards his side of the bed, peering over the side at him. Enhanced eyesight was a perk of the serums they'd both been given. She couldn't make out his expression or exactly where his nose was, but she could see him. He was on his side, looking just as at ease as he'd ever been. Natasha liked the fluffy bed. What she would like even more, was to be next to Yasha while she slept; she always slept better when she wasn't by herself. So even though she'd been looking forward to an overly comfortable bed after months on SHIELD standard bedding, she got to her feet, pulling the blanket with her. 

Bucky lifted his head when he saw her moving, and he snorted when she laid down next to him. She was even nice enough to share the blanket with him. She wrapped an arm around his waist after she got all her hair out of the way. "Get some sleep." 

*

Tony felt like pounding his head against the wall. So he did. He was an absolute, complete, total idiot for falling in love with Natasha. The only interest she'd ever shown in him was when she'd been undercover, and she hadn't trusted him for the longest time after that. He tried so hard to let her know that she could ask him for anything, and he didn't even care that it came off as desperate because he was and she certainly knew that. 

The long lost Bucky Barnes and assassin for Hydra was her boyfriend. That was not as big a surprise as the guy being alive in the first place, and he cared more about the first part than the second because he'd already known that he didn't stand a chance with her. 

Thankfully, everyone had come back to the Tower with him, so he didn't have to do anything pesky like stalk them to ask what he wanted to know. He was going to make breakfast as a peace offering (and also bring Barnes clothes because he definitely did not have a bag with him, and no way in hell was he going to be able to fit in what Nat had). 

The only problem with this plan was that it was nighttime. Tony sighed and headed to the workshop. "J, set an alarm for six thirty tomorrow morning, I need to remember to order breakfast." 

"Of course, sir." 

"Thanks buddy." Tony walked through the doors, and DUM-E activated from his charging station, wheeling out with a questioning beep. "Don't worry, kiddo, daddy's going to get some work done. Back to sleep with you." 

DUM-E, of course, didn't listen, and instead went to finish arranging the spare parts Tony had around for the cars. Since he wasn't going to be in the way doing that, Tony let him have his fun and opened up a few internet windows. Time to get to work on that mess Hydra had made. 

The time flew by when JARVIS gave him the set alarm, and even though Tony wasn't anywhere near done, he figured a break to recharge couldn't hurt, especially when the dealings with humans were more time sensitive. 

*

They woke up when someone knocked on the door. Natasha groaned, then yelled, "What!" in the direction of the door. 

"It's Tony! I was hoping for a little breakfast, maybe some juice, maybe the explanation about how you know Cap's old buddy!" A pause. "Or how he's alive, that would be good too!" 

Natasha groaned, then yelled back, "We'll meet you in the kitchen!" She planted her face against Bucky's chest for a moment, then pushed herself up. "Do you have answers for him?" 

"You know as much as I do," Bucky mumbled, rubbing at his face. 

"Great," she said, stretching. There were clothes around here somewhere, she just needed to find them and hope they were big enough for Bucky to fit into. If not, well, he'd dealt with far worse than walking around in tight pants. As it turned out, there were only clothes fit to Natasha's size, and he wouldn't be able to squeeze into any of that. "I'll go ask Steve for some extras," she said, opening the door, only to pause. Right outside was a stack of jeans and a t-shirt. "Nevermind." She picked them up and turned back around, kicking the door shut. She tossed them at Bucky and he caught them, then slid them on. 

"I don't really remember Steve," he said, zipping up the pants. "I don't remember what I was doing on the bridge." 

"What do you remember?" 

"The Red Room. Some of our missions afterwards. I... remember they-" he stopped. They'd found out about him and Natasha, and they'd sent him away because both of them were too valuable-- too well trained-- to kill. After that, just shadows of what he'd done. It was like trying to remember the details of a book he'd read years ago. He remembered a chair with jolts of electricity, he remembered the new order of Hydra and how they'd tried to convince him he was one of them, and he remembered ice. Flashes that didn't make sense. He didn't really remember Steve. More like a memory of a story he'd heard once. That wasn't what Steve would want to hear, he knew that much. "I don't remember anything important," he ended up saying. 

She looked at him for a minute; she knew he was holding something back, but she didn't press him about it. And that, right there, was why they got along so well. He didn't want to talk about it, and she knew that if she waited long enough, he'd bring it up again. Not that he wanted to admit that he'd bring it up again, but, well, they both knew better. "We might as well go to breakfast before Tony thinks we abandoned him." She opened the door and Bucky followed her automatically. 

Tony was munching on toast when they came in, and he pushed the massive jug of orange juice towards them. "I always thought one vintage super soldier was enough for a group, but I guess I'll have to reconsider." 

Bucky shrugged as he picked up the jug. Natasha put a glass between him and the orange juice, so he redirected and poured some in the glass. "Hydra experiments," he said nonchalantly. He drained the glass, then refilled it. "Fucks with your mind sometimes." And that's all he was going to say about it. 

Tony must have picked that up, because he accepted it. "Yeah, fuck Hydra, I think that's something we can all agree on. Not that I really care," he lied, "but how do you and Natasha know each other? She never worked for Hydra." 

"A lot of organizations help Hydra without working for them," Natasha said, and that was all she planned on saying too. 

"Do all spies have trouble answering questions like normal people, or is it just the two of you?" 

"When was the last time Clint answered a question straight that wasn't about food?" Nat countered. 

"You've got a point, but it doesn't match my annoyance with you so I'm going to pretend it's not true." 

Bucky snorted. No one bothered to tell him the really good things. Natasha was here, and obviously that was nice, but couldn't she have mentioned that Tony was funny? He'd kinda thought coming here would only lead to avoiding Steve, not actually enjoying anything else. 

Tony had ordered in, so he uncovered one of the breakfast platters and took a little for himself, then pushed the rest towards Nat. Then he opened a completely full one for Bucky. He haphazardly tossed forks into the containers, but it didn't look like he'd be surprised if they shoved their faces straight in. Whatever, he was starting with bacon anyways, he didn't need a fork for that. 

"Steve's not an easy person to keep out," Tony continued between new bites and half chewed food. "You don't have to talk to him today, and not about anything important, but when he starts cracking heads in, mine will be the first to go. You may not care about that, but I don't have a healing factor so I'd like to avoid all this possible damage." 

"He wouldn't hurt you," Natasha said, rolling her eyes. 

"That's what you think; he likes you." 

"He likes you too." 

"Not as much. I think it's the hair, he prefers long and luxurious over well sculpted beards. I think it's a bullshit forties thing." 

"It's not," Bucky said. He didn't have any evidence for that, but he was pretty sure Steve had been unable to grow a beard for a while. After the serum that was probably fixed, but he wasn't over it. Or at least, that was his leading theory. Personally, Bucky had always liked a little facial hair. 

"Oh yeah? You like the beard?" Tony asked with a wink. 

"What's not to like?" he responded, and maybe it was a little too easy for him to say that. Natasha was too good to stare at him straight out for it, but he could tell that it perked her interest. 

*

"You like him," she said as soon as they were alone, back in the relative privacy of their room.

"You love him." 

They stared at each other. 

"I have a crush," he said softly. "He's handsome and doesn't look at me like he expects something." 

More silence. This should be the part where she admitted why she loved him. Bucky had never been the jealous sort, if only because that wasn't the sort of relationship they'd had. It had been intense and all consuming, but when she was working missions there wasn't room for that shit. 

"I don't care." It doesn't matter if she loved someone other than him, they were still together. Another bedmate, another partner... they still had each other at the end of the day, and that was the only part he cared about. "You love him," he said again, more gentle than before. Gentle was never something he'd been good at, but it felt like what the situation needed so he tried. 

Natasha swallowed. "Love is for children." And she'd never thought she had enough innocence to make it work. She didn't seem to realize that there was more to it than that. Oh when dealing with other people, she knew, but when it came to herself, it's like she forgot all the facts, all the statistics, all the reasons people behaved the way they did-- why she behaved the way she did. He understood it all too well, but that didn't mean he knew how to help. 

"Is that what we had?" he mused. "Love?" Like jealousy, they hadn't worked in terms of 'love', but that was a different time for them. Already, he was settling into old patterns. He didn't quite remember why or what those patterns were, but he could feel himself sinking into them. 

"Had?" 

Bucky shrugged. "Have. You can't tell me you know what we're doing." 

"We're... existing." 

"Then why would I have a problem with you 'existing' with Tony too?" 

"You're not jealous," she snorted. 

That didn't even require a response; of course he wasn't. "That's my point." 

She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. 

He didn't bring it up again. Not later that night, not the next day, not the next week, and not at any point in the next month when they stayed at the Tower without really meaning to. It's just that leaving would mean having to figure out what-- if anything-- they wanted to do other than clean up after Shield. Staying meant Natasha could go about her life almost as if nothing had changed, and Bucky was able to catch up with Steve and work out the stupid amount of energy he had; staying on ice and being half starved meant he was never restless, but Tony kept insisting that he eat until he was full and this was the result-- fuck Tony. 

So when Bucky finally got an official answer from Natasha, it was over a month after he asked. Bucky was sharpening knives in the living room, all of them spread out on the carpet next to him on the ground. She sat on the couch behind him and said, "You're right." 

Of course, he had no fucking idea what that meant, because they hadn't been talking about anything this could apply to today. "About?" 

"Tony." 

Unfortunately, that didn't clear it up for him. He said a lot about Tony, and he already knew he was right about all of it. 

They sat in silence for a minute before she elaborated. "How I feel about him." 

"Yeah." A month wasn't that long for an admission. Tony might disagree if they ever got around to telling him, but he was what, forty? Natasha was twice that, and Bucky was maybe older, depending on how you calculated it. 

"You like him too." 

"Course I do, I already told you that." 

"You said it was a crush," she said, and the implication hung heavy in the air. It had only been a crush when he said it, because he was Tony fucking Stark, and he was Iron Man, and he was gorgeous, and he'd seen shit but still grinned every day like it didn't matter. Tony made everything easy but let you pretend it wasn't, and Bucky fell for him in the same way. Cause honestly, who the hell saw the Winter Soldier and decided they could force him to go to a carnival just to hold all the prizes they won? Tony, that's fucking who. Not that Bucky had gone alone, he'd dragged Natasha along, ostensibly so he wasn't suffering by himself but she'd definitely known better and Tony probably had too. 

The slight tightness in his chest was completely irrational; Natasha already knew what it had become, and she was just as okay with it as Bucky was with her own feelings. It was a conditioned response to admitting anything he cared about though, so he swallowed past it and said, "Was." 

"Are we telling him?" 

The knife made a clear sound against the stone as he slid it along the edge. "Why bother?" 

"He... might be interested." 

Bucky hummed noncommittally. It's not that he thought she was wrong, but he didn't think it would go anywhere good. Tony was... different. He wasn't like them. He was a hero, they were ex-Soviet assassins that did good things mostly by accident-- well, he did, Natasha actually tried. And if he was interested and they did end up with it going towards a future together, Tony was still going to end up dead long before both of them. That wasn't something he wanted to get caught up in. It just... wouldn't be worth it. Tony was worth a whole goddamn lot, but Bucky didn't want to invite that kinda heartbreak. 

Sometimes it felt like Natasha could read his mind, because she leaned forward, hair swishing against his ear and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "You-" another kiss, this time to his cheek "-are so-" a kiss to his jaw "-stupid." 

"Thanks?" 

"If you don't have a good reason, we're telling him." 

"And if I say it makes me uncomfortable?" 

She kissed his cheek again before leaning back to her former position. "I would say you're lying and that means I don't have to listen to you. So don't try that." 

"Could I say anything to stop this?" 

Natasha curled a hand up his next to tangle her fingers in his hair. She scratched lightly at his scalp, and he stopped trying to sharpen his knives to enjoy it. "I'm not trying to force you into this. But I thought it was something we both wanted. I've seen the way you look at him, and there's no reason he wouldn't fit between us." 

"Don't say it like that or he'll think you mean sex." 

"Is that a yes?" 

"You know it is." 

Natasha hummed. "I suppose we'll have to plan how to ask him." 

He picked his hands back up and went back to work. "You're overthinking it. We ask him to dinner as a date, and that's our answer." 

*

"Tony, would you like to go to Geraldi's tonight?" Natasha asked. Tony was hunched over the shop's table working, Bucky was working on one of his cars, and Natasha was stacking the items in the fridge until Bucky wanted help. 

"Sure." 

"As a date?" 

Tony's head popped up, frowning. He looked at her, then Bucky, then back to her. "Uh. Did I miss something?" 

"Not as far as I know," Bucky said from where he was putting a muffler together. 

"Okay," Tony said slowly. 

"Great! We'll leave here at seven." 

Tony opened his mouth to say that that's not what he'd meant, but he closed it a moment later, frowning. "Seven, got it." He'd figure out what was going on later. For now, he was going to finish what he was doing. As for later, he was going to enjoy dinner when it happened because he fucking loved Geraldi's, and he wasn't going to let the impossibility of it being a date ruin the food. 

Bucky said something, but it was in Russian, and all Tony knew in Russian was 'more vodka' and 'take me home'; it hadn't really been a problem until now. "That wasn't very clear." 

"It was clear enough." 

Bucky snorted, and Tony looked over in worry. "Not you, doll. Tricking him into saying yes does not count." 

Natasha scowled at him. "I'll make it clear over dinner." 

"I thought we didn't want him to misunderstand. He'll think that's sex." 

Her scowl deepened. 

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked, concerned. 

"No," they said together. 

That did not make him feel better. He sighed and went back to what he was doing. It wasn't exactly soothing, but it was something to do other than worrying about whatever the hell they were talking about. 

*

Tony drifted off to sleep, and Natasha looked over to see Bucky glaring at her. 

"What?" she hissed. 

"You said he wouldn't misunderstand," Bucky accused. Quietly, of course, because he didn't want to wake Tony up. 

"And he didn't!" 

"You're not supposed to have sex on the first date, even I know that." 

"Don't be so judgmental, lots of people do that. And we've known him for a while, so it's hardly a first meeting. We went on a date and then we came home and had sex, that's a perfectly reasonable first date when we've been friends for so long!" 

Bucky's glare deepened. "Wait and see, tomorrow he'll wake up and try to sneak off." 

"No he won't." 

"He will. He thinks it was a one night affair, you don't stick around after those." 

"We're in his bed!" 

"And that won't stop him!" 

They stopped having a whispered argument over his body as they switched to just glaring at each other over his body. If he woke up right now, he would get quite the view. 

"Go to sleep, Yasha." 

"We fucked this up," Bucky grumbled. 

"If he tries to leave, lay on top of him." 

"What? Why can't you do it?" 

"You way a hundred pounds more. Don't be a baby," she said, then laid down so Bucky couldn't argue with her further. 

"Hmph." He laid down, curling into Tony's warmth. It was easier to do with Natasha since she knew he wanted that and could accommodate it, but after curving in as much as he could without achieving his goal, he hoped Tony wouldn't mind if Bucky rearranged him a little. Pick up an arm, slide under it, wiggle a leg between his, and Bucky finally felt situated enough to relax. 

*

Unsurprisingly, he was right, and he gave a pointed look to Natasha-- that she rolled her eyes at-- before dragging Tony back down onto the bed. "Where ya goin'," he mumbled. 

"Uh," Tony blanked at first, clearly not having expected to be caught, "the 'shop? I've got a couple projects I need to work on-" 

"Liar," Natasha muttered. Her voice was low, but still loud enough that Tony could definitely hear. "You were running away for no reason." 

"Oh there's a reason, and I think it's pretty obvious what that is. So if you'll just," Tony trailed off, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge Bucky's arm around his waist. 

"As the one that got us into this mess Natasha, you have t' fix it." Plus he was tired and words were hard to form. He could totally kill someone right now, but have a heart to heart? That was beyond what he could do this close to waking up. 

"If 'fix it' is code for kill me, you really really don't Natasha. We're friends, aren't we? You wouldn't kill one of your friends." Tony's voice was half joking half panicked. 

"What the idiot means is that last night was a date. As a precursor to other dates until you're comfortable with letting us call you our partner." 

Tony blinked. "What." 

"Like dating one person, only instead of one person, there's two of us." 

Bucky snorted. "Eloquent." 

"If you're not going to do better, shut it." 

"Three person relationship instead of two?" he offered, then yawned. 

"This isn't a joke, right?" Tony asked. "Cause if it is, it's mean and you should confess right now before I get it into my head that this is actually happening." 

"It's happenin' now will you go back to sleep?" Bucky grumbled. He only wanted one more hour, that wasn't so much to ask in his opinion. 

"What Bucky means is that no, it's not a joke. It's a serious offer, and you can think about it for as long as you want. If that includes some time alone right now, you can take it. If not, then pull the covers back up because it's getting cold." 

Tony did nothing for a long moment, then pulled the blanket up. "You are two very confusing people." Another pause. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but not as much as you fuckers will." 

Natasha smothered her laugh, then spread her hand over Tony's chest. "Noted." 

"You can't make me regret anything more than I already do," Bucky claimed, yawning again. 

"I was making a joke, and you just break my heart," Tony said. 

"I'll try not to." 

[luthorao3]

Roisa Secret Santa | Mac & Cheese

Prompt: Mac & Cheese, side of angst Rating: T (teen)  Word count: 2009 words 

merry christmas, @only-freakin-sunflowers!!!  

it’s been so much fun writing this little piece and dropping into your inbox to spread that festive cheer this winter. (im dreadful at keeping secrets when im excited about something - the amount of times i panicked that i’d sent an ask without anonymous being ticked, my god...) i really wanted to add an over the top cutesy ending to this, but when i tried to write it, it just didn’t fit with the foundations that i’d already set down, so i’m sorry if you’re expecting that! i hope this story does your prompt justice, and thank you for all the lovely replies to my asks these past few weeks! 

i hope that the next few days bring you so much joy (and some freakin good food, man), and that the new year is kind to you. <3 

Luisa’s gaze lingers on the view from their balcony window.

They’ve been in France for three nights, already, tucked into a snowy city with a Swiss border, and mountains that threaten the stars sitting peacefully in their back yard. Luisa feels the biting chill even in spite of her many layers, but does not make to enter the wooden chalet that Rose had secured them for the week. The glass doors behind her reveal a lamp-lit bedroom and the suitcase that they never bothered to unpack, given that they might, at any point, need to make a speedy escape.

Luisa cranes her neck to see the row of wooden buildings that line the mountain road, instead, some small and quaint, others triple-storey and magnificent, all of them like a scene from a real festive movie – the kind with snow piled up to the windows, and hot cocoa with marshmallows floating on top, and innocent mishaps that threaten to ruin Christmas for good, but never actually succeed.

It’s not Luisa’s first white Christmas, and yet the novelty has never really worn off.

Behind her, the sound of a sliding door opening and closing signals Rose’s return from the shower.

Warm arms wrap tightly around her from behind, struggling around her middle and the three separate jackets that Luisa has smuggled herself into. Rose snorts a delicate laugh when she barely manages to rest her chin on Luisa’s shoulder, the faux fur around her hood tickling her cheek. She smells like hotel shampoo and warmth, and Luisa sinks back against her with a sigh.

“Are you still brooding?” Rose asks by her ear.

Luisa considers the question before answering with a quiet, “A little.”

“What can I do to make it better?” Her gaze flicks to one side. “We can turn on the hot tub.”

“I’m not really in the mood for that. Besides, it’s freezing.”

Rose’s voice lilts, suggestive, when she offers, “I can keep you warm.”

Luisa straightens, relieving Rose of her weight, and turns around. She balks when she realises Rose is wearing nothing but a thick white bath robe and a pair of complimentary slippers, damp red hair hanging limp over one shoulder, inviting a frost. “Are you serious? Get inside right now!” Luisa’s concern for her far outweighs the lingering uneasiness that had led her out onto the balcony, where she’d hoped the frigid air would cool her temper. “You’re going to catch your death.”

Rose stops Luisa from man-handling her inside with gentle but firm hands on her biceps.

“Wait. Talk to me before we go back in there. I know you’re upset, and I don’t want to bring this to dinner with us. Tell me how you’re feeling? Let me help.”

Luisa’s mouth gapes like a fish forced to the surface. She clicks it shut with more force than she means. “I’m feeling cold just looking at you. Please can we just—” She attempts to usher Rose back toward the balcony door, but Rose is firm and unrelenting. Her gaze pierces Luisa like a spear, rooting her in place, until Luisa drops her arms with a sigh. “I don’t want to do this right now. Can we go sit down inside, where you’re less likely to contract hypothermia?”

“No,” Rose answers plainly, crossing her arms. She looks less affected by the weather. If not for the gooseflesh crawling up her exposed throat, Luisa might assume she couldn’t even feel the cold. “I’m sick of pretending that nothing’s wrong, or biting my tongue and hoping that whatever’s upsetting you will eventually just go away. It isn’t, and it’s—” her acerbic tone gentles, the words whispering out of her in visible puffs of white breath, “it’s not fair for you to pretend that you’re okay just to keep me from worrying. I know you, Luisa, I know when something is bothering you.”

Luisa blinks a sheen of moisture from her eyes and lowers them to the knot in Rose’s bathrobe. She tugs on it with gloved fingers and then re-ties it tighter than it had been, all the while with Rose waiting patiently for her to speak. Casting a look over her shoulder, Luisa eyes the distance to the ground from their balcony perch, and considers how badly she might hurt herself if she were to jump.

She’d survive the fall. Probably, the landing could do little damage…

The thought brings a soft tut from beneath her tongue, and she releases the robe with a cloudy sigh.

“It’s Christmas,” she whispers, unable to meet Rose’s gaze. Instead, it lingers in the fine silver stitching details on the robe’s lapels – spun silken snowflakes caught in a wintry gale. Just looking at them makes her feel colder. “It’s Christmas Day and I can’t call anyone to wish them a Merry Christmas. I can’t even write. I have no idea what they’re doing, if they’re together, if they’re okay— they have no idea about me, either.” Her expression draws in, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “I bet they’re not even thinking of me. I bet, if they are, it won’t be anything good.”

It comes out on a breath of laughter that holds no mirth, and Luisa swallows against the lump in her throat.

“I chose to do this,” she says, and Rose wonders which one of them she’s addressing. “I wanted this, us, I chose you. I don’t regret that.” She looks up, finally, her big brown eyes soft and warm and a little watery, sheening against the light coming from the balcony doors. “I don’t regret that,” louder, steadier, her hands coming to rest in the crooks of Rose’s elbows. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy. I’m just… struggling, I guess.”

Rose presses closer, her slippers dragging against the balcony decking.

She presses a cold, soft hand to Luisa’s cheek – holds it there, until the warmth of Luisa’s skin inspires feeling back into her fingers.

“No one’s faulting you for that,” she murmurs, her voice a low hum. “I know it hasn’t been easy, loving me.”

Luisa’s brow wrinkles. “Don’t think that.”

“I don’t blame you for anything, you know? If not for me, you’d be with them, now.”

“Would I?” Luisa bites the inside of her cheek until it dimples. “We never had Christmases like normal families, not like what you’d see on TV. The best Christmas I ever had was when I decided to stay in college over winter break. It was just me and the foreign exchange students; they did potluck in their dorm, and we ate out in the hall on beanbags and pillows, and then we played hide and seek in the library.” Her brow crinkles again, this time fondly. “I made out with a girl from Greece who was built like a professional football player. I can’t even remember her name.”

Rose snorts delicately, warm breath puffing from her nostrils.

The sight draws a tender smile to Luisa’s mouth.

“You’re not, you know?” she says, stepping forward, lassoing her arms around Rose’s waist and pulling her closer. “You’re not hard for me to love at all. My life would probably be much simpler if you were.”

Rose hangs her arms around Luisa’s shoulders, relaxing against her front.

“It’d be boring,” she agrees, and Luisa snickers. “Sometimes boring is good, when the alternative is going on the run from the law and never seeing your family again.”

“Thanks, I was just getting over that.”

Rose brings both hands to Luisa’s face, this time, squashing her sarcasm between them.

“You’ll never be over that,” she says, and the matter-of-factness of the statement makes Luisa’s breath hitch, but then she never has managed to get over how delicately Rose delivers her killing blows. Rose knows exactly how to turn the world inside out, and she can do it with the same precision it takes for a needle to pop a balloon. The bang makes you jump even when you’re expecting it.

Rose studies her face like she’s looking for a reaction, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Luisa wonders if she’s supposed to protest, but can’t. Won’t. Finally, Rose’s gaze softens. “Next year,” she says, picking her words with care, and with the future so far in the distance Luisa cannot blame her, “I’ll give you a proper Christmas. Dinner, presents, a tree. Anything you want.”

“Anything I want?” Luisa repeats, smiling, but Rose’s expression keeps its almost-solemn quality.

“Anything you want,” she agrees. “I’ll take you to Lapland, I’ll buy you your own goddamn reindeer, if that’s what you ask for.”

“I mean, I don’t know the first thing about their diet,” Luisa scoffs, and then her brows draw in tight with thought, “but Google has never failed me before…” Rose shivers, drawing Luisa’s attention quickly back to her. “What’s this about dinner, though? It’s not too late to find somewhere, right? I know it’s not the same as cooking your own, but I think we’re just gonna have to forgive ourselves for that, given the circumstances.”

“Actually,” Rose begins, coy, caressing Luisa’s cheek with the fat of her thumb, “I thought we’d eat in, still. I don’t want to tempt fate, today of all days. It won’t be a Christmas Dinner, or anything even remotely close to it, but I want to do this for you. I want you all to myself tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

“Wait, you want to cook for me?” At Rose’s nod, Luisa’s lips press closed. “Babe, I love you, but you really don’t need to do that.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Luisa clears her throat. “I mean…”

“Wow,” Rose puffs, unable to hide her smile, even if the offence is real. She drops her hands from Luisa’s face, draping her arms back around her shoulders. Their bodies sway together as Rose suppresses a laugh. “Fine then. I won’t cook.”

Luisa squeezes her tighter around the middle. “You can’t cook, sweetie, it’s not a matter of won’t.”

Rose scoffs but does not disagree, until—

“I can manage mac ‘n’ cheese,” she says, lips pursed. “I can make a really good packet mac ‘n’ cheese.”

Luisa’s eyes her, dubious. “You want mac ‘n’ cheese?”

“I do.”

“You want to make us mac ‘n’ cheese out of a box for Christmas Dinner?”

“That’s right.”

“Huh.”

Rose wets her lips and instantly regrets it. Her ears are beginning to ring from the cold.

“Will you eat it, if I do?”

Luisa snorts and nods her head.

“At this point, I’d take peanut butter on toast. Come on, though, let’s get inside before you freeze to death. Popsicle isn’t on the menu tonight.”

As she says it, she untangles Rose’s arms from around her shoulders and ushers her toward the balcony door.

Shivering, Rose shakes her head, taking Luisa’s hands in hers and halting any further movement. At her girlfriend’s confusion, she presses a kiss to each gloved palm, and then her face. Luisa shivers at the feeling of her mouth, cold and wet, against her own. When she draws back, there’s a light in Rose’s eye – a twinkle in the corner, like a star that’s emerged from behind a slow-drifting cloud – that gives her pause.

“I love you,” Rose tells her, all hot, visible breath and a smile so tender that Luisa bites back the urgency to get them both inside, if just to bask in the warmth that is Rose’s unwavering adoration. “I love you so much. If I could change things—” She sighs. She can’t, and so she discards the thought, with effort. “I’m sorry it isn’t everything you deserve. I’m going to do better, Lu, I mean it.”

Luisa bites the inside of her lip, blinking back the glaze of moisture in her eyes – it only attracts the cold.

“We both are,” she promises, sniffing. “Please, can we go inside now?”

Rose laughs and nods her head.

When Luisa next tries to save her from the cold, she gives no protest, and they step hand-in-hand back into the warmth.

[cockbiteproductions]

primed to scream PRIMES! PRIMES! PRIMES!!

f i just typed the answer to most of these questions and chrome crashed so christ i have to fucking retype all these but much condensed because i am lazy.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

chocolate bars. but only milk. my mom buys exclusively Very Dark Chocolate though so i usually just stare at those and Wish.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

well bubblegum or cotton candy flavored stuff neither they both taste nauseating. if we’re talking about the actual stuff then bubblegum because i can pop it. this actually reminded me i have gum in the pantry from the beginning of the semester i havent even opened yet so now my roommates have you to thank for popping noises the next hr or so

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

soda bottles because i dont like to drink soda quickly and so i want to close it and not let the carbon dioxide escape. soda cans a close second because it’s satisfying to open the tab.

7. earbuds or headphones?

wired earbuds because headphones are too big and clunky and you cant easily lay on your side with headphones on. but if my next pair of earbuds break within a month i might consider Switching because ive had 3 break on me in the past month and half and im at my wits end with earbuds.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

i dont eat much for breakfast cause i want to sleep in until the last possible moment and i get stomachaches when i eat a lot in the morning but ill eat a piece of bread and yogurt maybe.

13. lanyard or key ring?

key ring but that’s just because i havent used a lanyard before. i think i would like a lanyard. im constantly looking for my keys in bags.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

this pair of black sandals that i have tan lines on my feet from how much ive worn them

19. sleeping position?

ill sleep however... i like sleeping on my left side. on my stomach with my head to the right. on my back with my arms crossover my chest to keep warm. at the end of the bed with my head where my feet should be. i dont move at all when i sleep so freshman year when i had a lofted bed i think my roommate was a bit concerned in the beginning when i refused a bedrail because she thought i might fall. i never fell which was nice.

23. strange habits?

oh man idk i probably have a lot of those but nothing i can think about right now when im being put on the spot.

in elementary school i used to refuse to step on the yellow tiles at school.

29. best way to bond with you?

talk to me about the stuff i love!!!! and watch the stuff i love with me!!!! i am always down to [whatever the rabb.it replacement is these days] stuff with people and just generally both yell at each other and be passionate about stuff. currently what im passionate about is the stuff im screaming over at @winstonbillions​ so talk to me about that stuff!! please. i am always 3 seconds from screaming about ANY of that stuff.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

idk about outfits to kick ass and take names but i have outfits where i get my ass kicked and name taken aka what i wear to exams. which is my tower of pimps shirt which ive deemed lucky. is it lucky in any way? no, but i’m hoping if i wear it enough to exams it might.

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

duffel bag. suitcases are so large and unwieldily. that reminds me i have a suitcase of winter clothes in my trunk i need to take out.

41. last person you texted?

as in actual texts on my phone? that would be my dad. asking him if i should drop my class im failing. 

as for the last person i instant messaged, that would be one of my mutuals through my musical theater sideblog im currently yelling at about [musical theater related interest]. im not kidding guys talk to me about the stuff i post about on @winstonbillions​ PLEASE

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

2 months ago i would have said hoodie but im kinda becoming a cardigan kind of person now. theyre just Soft and and Long and Casual and i love them. hoodies are too hard to take off.

47. favorite type of cheese?

mild cheddar, american, and mozzarella. i actually only Recently started cataloging cheeses in my brain to their actual names so for my entire life i was like i just like cheese even though there are certain ones i hate like swiss and blue cheese.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

a bit cold and a bit tired from typing all the answers to all these asks tbh. but other than that good. i just cut my nails because they were atrociously long. 

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“worm” or “fuck” or “no!” according to my roommate

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

oh my ogdokh oym ogdos sd fdospohm to mo edf ucmign fugod mfyo uacant just ask me this im going to absolutely die

in absolutely no order, all from completely from memory, and favorite for a variety of different reasons

“fuck you, math man. if you’re such a genius why can’t you count to loyalty” - mafee in 4x11 lamster billions

“captain, he think, and feels that much more powerful” - luminousbeings in you don’t have to (say yes) the star trek fic

“more than you know, i understand wanting to walk away from the jedi”“i know.” - anakin skywalker and ahsoka tano in 5x12 the wrong jedi star wars the clone wars

“i won’t leave you, not this time.” “then you will die” - ahsoka tano and darth vader in 2x12 twilight of the apprentice star wars rebels

“there is nothing so pure as a man on a mission. when faced with the fire, never quivers or runs. there is nothing so noble as sticking together, for lonely is the life lead when sticking to its guns." - narrator in bloodsong of love by joe iconis

“now i’ve got myself a name and i’m ready to risk it with a battle cry disguised as a sing-along” - never heard nothing by joe iconis

“i’m frickin done with being the loser, the wuss, the underdog. being the misfit, the old school analog. being the oddball, the weakling freak. the failure, the sucker, the please-don’t-speak. oh i can’t hardly wait for the moment when i’m not the loser the geek or whatever, ever again” - jeremy heere in be more chill by joe iconis

“i’m tired of being the person that everyone thinks that i am” - various in be more chill by joe iconis

“q is for quantitative, baby!” - winston in 4x12 extreme sandbox billions

“the cheering is just as important as the song” - lisa and ms. werring in the black suits by joe iconis

“first, best destiny” - spock in star trek ii wrath of khan

“be proud of your place in the cosmos. it is small, and yet it is. how unlikely. how fantastic, and stupid. and excellent.” - cecil in welcome to night vale old oak doors part b

“are we living a life that is safe from harm? of course not. we never are. the questions is are we living a life that is worth the harm?” - cecil in welcome to night vale parade day

“as I turned and my eyes beheld you, i displayed emotion. i beg forgiveness.” - spock somewhere in star trek tos

“the sky collapsed without a sound. these broken pieces hit the ground.  the rain fell down around me and i drowned, but i will save you.” - part of me from dear evan hansen

“this is, after all, the story of how i died” - epsilon in the rvb13 trailer

“and while the law has many punishments for the atrocities we inflict on others, there are no punishments for the terrors we inflict on ourselves.” - the director in the s6 finale of red vs blue

that was in no way an exhaustive list but all i could think of at the moment

67. good luck charms?

not really any tbh. i try to wear my tower of pimps shirt whenever i take an exam but that’s about it.

71. least favorite pattern?

what does this even fucking mean?????? i will say the observer design pattern in programming because i don’t understand it well despite having used it twice now.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

oh god idk why are all these questions getting harder. nothing i can think of at the moment.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

i say school id tentatively, but neither of them looks great. my school id photo was a selfie.

83. writing or drawing?

writing. i wish to GOD i could draw and i probably could if i put in the amount of time i need to to learn how to draw but im a lazy bastard. but i’m not that great at writing either as i’ve found out. everything is way too short and out of character and too venty and i am weird about letting people i know read what i write (sorry @ all the people who keep asking me to let them read my writing.  it’s not that great you’re not missing out at all and i hate the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known) and i abandon ideas literal minutes after getting them.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

what the fuck kind of question is this?????? i GUESS the answer should be me but uh i am not even putting myself before myself as i am procrastinating on a shitload of homework with this. i guess my “close” friends. they’re pretty chill. but generally ill do anything for anyone all you have to do is ask.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

4, my own, my home landline, my dad’s cell, and my dad’s work.

[littlebitoffanfic]

Secrets

Fandom: IT Character: Belch, others mentioned Relationship: Belch/reader Request: I loved your dating belch headcanons!! Can you please write a fic for him? Where he keeps the reader from the gang even though they are in a relationship but one night after sex, the gang comes to his and he shoves the reader out the window in her underwear or something to keep them apart. The reader thinks hes embarrassed about her but its because hes trying to protect her. Maybe the reader gets sick and he comes to take care of her? Fluffy ending? sorry if this is soooo long. You lay in Regs bed, your head on his chest as you drew circles on his skin with your finger tips. He had his arm wrapped around you, the other behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. You smiled lazily as you cuddled in closer, your body still riding on the high of the previous events. The way the two of you had stumbled into the bedroom, clothes flying and lips locked. Or how he groan every time your hand brushed against his cock. As normal, the sex had been amazing. Passionate and pleasurable. You lost count about an hour ago to the amount of orgasms you had had but you did remember that every time you came, Reg would have a very proud look on his face. Every chance he got chance to prove you had a reason to be with him, he would take. He’d make you cum as much as he could, he’d take you place and come pick you up at the drop of a hat, he would literally try anything to keep you by his side. Apart from one situation. When his friends were about. Reg had made a very big attempt keeping you all apart, even going to the lengths of keeping your relationship a secret. You didn’t understand it all, but you never really questioned it simply because you loved him. You had been dating for just over a year and the time had flown by. At the start, it had been just sex. It just so happened that the two of you you sat up, much to Regs displeasure. “Whats wrong, baby?” He sit up as you stood but you smiled at him. “Nothing, I just need a drink.” You reassured him as you quickly pulled on your panties and then grabbing the shirt Reg had been wearing. Once it was on, you looked at him and saw his eyes light up at the sight of you. You knew he loved it when you wore his shirts, especially after sex. Reg seemed to agree with you as he also got up, shoving on a pair of boxers before the two of you headed down stairs to the kitchen. You spent a lot of time at Regs, so you knew were everything was. Pulling a cup out the cupboard, you went to the sink and started to pour water into it. Reg walked up behind you, his arms circling around your waist. “You’re beautiful.“ He mumbled as he buried his face into your neck, enjoying the smell mixture of sex and him on your skin. you giggled, placing the glass down and turning in his arms to press your lips to his in a lazily but sweet kiss. He smiled into the kiss, his whole body reacting to it as though it was the first kiss. He did this often. Reg suddenly pulled away, his demeaner changing as he looked to the side. “Baby?” You asked, trying to draw his attention back but he let go of you and then you heard it. Voices, loud ones. You recognised one of their laughs and knew instantly who it was. SO did Reg. “You have to go.” Reg suddenly snapped as he darted across the kitchen to the laundry pile and hauling some jeans and a tee-shirt. “w-what?” You gasped, both scared and angry. “Its dark and the middle of winter. It was fucking snowing yesterday. And im only wearing this!” You gestured to yourself as he pulled on the clothes. “im sorry, I really am. But-“ He was cut off when the sound of the front door opening and Patrick called into the house. “Belch!” You barley had a moment to think as you were grabbed and pushed to the back door which he opened. In one second, you were pushed into the cold and the door was slammed shut. It would seem just in time as you heard voices fill the kitchen, laughter including Regs. The cold hit you like a ton of bricks and you started to shiver violently. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your heart broke in two. You were tempted to go back in there and scream at him, but you didn’t. “We’re done.” You whispered, angrily as though he would be able to hear you. Turning on your heel, you knew the only way you were getting home was on your own. The walk back to yours might have been a nice one, if it wasn’t dark, freezing and your heart wasn’t breaking. by the half way point, your teeth were chattering, your breathing was shallow but slow, your hands were fumbling. When you got home, you didn’t go to bed. Something was really wrong with yours body, you knew it. Your pulse was weak and it scared you. Instead, you went straight to the phone and dialled 911. --------------time skip -------------- Something was wrong. Reg knew it. 2 weeks he hadn’t seen you or heard from you. 2 weeks since he had pushed you out the back door. and it was all for nothing. Patrick had went upstairs and found your clothes, including underwear, lying on his floor. He knew how frustrated you were getting with the situation and told them everything, leaving out how you had been here moments before. The reaction was far better than he expected. They playfully punched his arm, congratulating him on getting laid. Patrick made a couple of comments but nothing too vulgar. He had agreed with the guys to introduce you the next day at school. In fact, he had driven up to your house that morning, going to pick you up and explain everything to you. But you weren’t home. No one was. He just assumed you had left early. But you weren’t at school. None of your friends had seen you. That was when he started to panic. What had happened to you when you walked home? Images of your body lying somewhere in the woods quickly swooped across his mind and he was nearly sick. He ditched school early, not even waiting for the guys as he drove to your house which was still empty. He waited there for hours, till well after sun down, before one of your neighbours walked by. He asked if they had seen you and the next words made his world stop. “Shes in hospital.” he went straight to the hospital but when the nurses asked his name and he told them, he was told he couldn’t go in and see you. He had nearly kicked off then and there in the hospital, till the nurse said you had specifically requested no visitors. The next few days were a haze for Reg. he didn’t go to school, didn’t really go home at all. He spent his time dotting between the hospital and your house. He knew your parents were working abroad. You were old enough to stay home alone and they had arrangements with the neighbours to keep an eye on you. It wasn’t until he saw a taxi pull up at your house on the 4th or 5th day that he was snapped out of his daze. You got out of the taxi, wincing slightly as you did so. The driver must have been happy to get you out since you had done nothing but cough all the way back from the hospital. Your body was still incredibly weak, but you wanted home and the doctors agreed. Your parents had phoned, telling you that they couldn’t come home because of a storm which had grounded all planes. They told you they had sent money so if you needed to stay in hospital, you could. They also called Regs mom, not that you knew. to be honest, you didn’t really know what was going on around you until you felt a hand around your waist. You jumped, looking to the owner of the hand and finding Reg. His eyes were filled with fear and confusion and his whole body was tense. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Get off me.” You mumbled, attempting to push him away but you were far too weak. You had used all your energy persuading the doctors to let you out and now you just wanted to sleep. You were very worried you would just collapse on the floor. “I’ll help you.” Reg mumbled, meaning for it to sound like a question but it was more a demand. SO he bent down and picked you up bridal style. He had done this loads of times and would normally result in your giggling but cuddling into him. Instantly, he felt how much weight you had lost in such a short space of time. “How…?” he trailed off, unable to believe that the person in his arms was the same as the one he’d pushed out 5 days ago. “Hypothermia. Got taken to hospital. But there were complications. Now its pneumonia.” You tried your best to explain. You were too weak to even argue because you knew there was no point. You needed the help and while your pride was taking a hit, you knew he could at least get you inside. you lolled your head against his shoulder, silently rejoicing at his warmth. you nodded in and out of sleep, thankful Reg knew where your spare key was kept. You woke up in the hallway. Reg went to take you up stairs but you shook your head. “No, no, not to my bed. Living room.” You managed to mumble but you saw he was confused and obviously you had to explain yourself. “Kitchens closer. Bathrooms downstairs. Heaters. Phone.” You rattled off, closing your eyes over. Next thing you knew, you were being set carefully down on the sofa. A blanket was placed over you for a couple of minutes so that Reg could run up to your room and grab your duvet, pillows and a couple of other things you might need. When he came back, he slid the pillow under your head and covered you up. He then went to the kitchen and got you water but by the time he came back, you were asleep. He settled into one of your single seater chairs, watching over you as guilt filled his body with every passing moment. Guilt that made tears prick in his eyes, made him feel sick to his stomach, made him loath himself. -------------------time skip -------- Over the next week or so, Reg stayed with you. You spent more time asleep than awake, but Reg quickly realised you had tablets to take so would wake you up when you needed them. He made you soup and other soft foods. The only time he left was to run back to his on the second day of you being home and grab clothes. His mom was worried about him, but when he told her what was wrong with you, she said she would sort everything out. She had known about you and her son from the start and grew very fond of you. She had been away the weekend that it had all happen. She had visited a few time, bringing fresh clothes for Reg as well as small things for you like homemade soup. The first time she walked in and saw you on the couch, she nearly fainted at how ill you looked. But she knew she had to be strong for her son. Reg couldn’t bring himself to tell him mom it was his fault you were like this. But Reg couldn’t even admit it to himself. After about a week, you started to become more conscious. You were able to move about by yourself and weren’t falling asleep all the time. You really didn’t know how you felt. On the one hand, you were in this situation because of him, but on the other, he had taken care of you without even being asked. Even when you were better and able to move about properly, he still stayed to make sure you were okay. Having him around was certainly helpful, because he was able to take care of you such as waking you up to eat or take medication. You were grateful for that at least. He knew something was wrong with you. Not with your health, but with this relationship. You wouldn’t look at him properly, you wouldn’t really speak to him and you seemed slightly resentful he was there. Which you were. You just didn’t know how to feel. One night, it got too much for both of you. “Will you just look at me?” Reg said out of the blue. The two of you were watching TV and Reg had tried to start a conversation but failed. You were on the sofa and he was in the single seater that you were sure he had been sleeping in. “I cant.” You managed to whisper, turning your body away from him. “Im sorry.” “Will… we ever be okay?” He suddenly asked, his voice shaking. This made you look at him, your eyes wide at his sudden question about your relationship. “Theres not a ‘we’ anymore. You made that clear the night you shoved me out into the cold in a tee-shirt.” Your voice was just as shaky as his, your tears welling in your eyes. You saw him wince at your words. “I-I didn’t know this would happen. I just didn’t want you around them.” He mumbled but this got your blood pumping as anger filled your body. “What sort of relationship did we even have that you suddenly care so much for? You didn’t even want to tell your friends about me. You were embarrassed of me so you kept us a secret. I was just a fuck buddie to you!” You snapped at him. “Its not like that!” Reg matched your tone as he sat up properly in his seat. “Do you know what would have happened if Hockstetter had seen you only my shirt?” He gestured at you, but you rolled your eyes. “Probably would have been any worse than if someone had seen me stumbling through the woods in a shirt!” Your tears ran down your cheek as you turned away from him, clasping your hand over your mouth to stop the sobs. But it did nothing. there was a moment of silence, only broken by your tears before Reg spoke. “im not embarrassed by you.” He said and you felt his eyes on the back of your head. “Why didn’t you want to tell anyone about us?” You finally asked a question that was bugging your mind for weeks now. “I just… wanted to keep you to myself.” Reg shook his head as he tried to put it into words. “the guys… I didn’t know how they’d act to you. and I wanted to keep you safe. But they know about you now.” With that, your head snapped towards him. “Patrick found your bra in my room. Its not my size so they guessed.” He told you, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little at the idea of Patrick holding out a bra and quizzing his friend about it. You saw a light in Reg eyes when you laughed. “They wanted to meet you. Was gonna introduce you last Monday at school but…” He trailed off, not need to tell you why you weren’t at school. “Yeah.” Was all you could say as you looked away from him. “I didn’t think of you in that way.” Reg said, his voice breaking as he stared at you. “You weren’t just a…” He trailed off, unable to say ‘fuck buddy’ about you. “Then what was I?” You look at him again. “I-i-I-“ Reg stuttered, struggling to put his emotions in to words. Especially about you. He had always struggled with emotions like this. He struggled when it came to first realising, he had a crush on you, struggled when he first asked you out and even when he first kissed you. Every time, you had responded with enthusiasm and mirrored feelings which certainly made it easier to move forward. But right now? He didn’t know if you would. Not that he could blame you. Your reasonings and angry were justifiable and he knew more than anything that he didn’t expect you to return to him. The realisation dawned on him. He continued to stare at you while a storm raged in his mind. You would leave him either way. No one wanted to be with someone who had done to them what he had done to you. He hated himself for allowing you to feel like his interests in you were purely for sex and maybe a little company. Because you meant so much more to him than just that. “I’m in love with you.” He spoke without realising it fully. The words fell from his lips as if it were a dream. He didn’t mean to say it out loud, much less so for you to hear him. your eyes widened at his confession. You looked up at him and he was still staring at you, a mixture of longing and sadness in his eyes. “Really?” You breathed, unable to believe both that he had said those words and how deeply they effected you. “From the start, yeah.” He nodded, leaning back in his seat and slumping while his hands covered his face before dropping away. “I couldn’t believe you wanted to be with me. And I thought it would just be easiest to keep it all a secret.” “What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. You could see tears forming in his eyes but he blinked them away. “I know the guys are a lot to deal with, and I thought they might scare you away. I know im not the best lookin’ guy in school and if people found out about us, you would realise you could do so much better. I just wanted to try and keep what we had to myself. I just wanted you.” His voice broke but he had kept speaking, not looking you in the eyes as if he were embarrassed. He spilled his heart and soul out for you to see and mock if you wished. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted you to know he didn’t mean to hurt you or for things to turn out like this. Pushing the blanket off your legs, you stood up. Reg winced because he thought you were going to leave, to go upstairs or into another room. Or even tell him to get out. But you walked up to him and, much to his surprised, straddled his lap. His hands instantly settled on your sides out of instinct. You ducked your head and placed a soft kiss to his lips. His whole body froze under your touched and yet seemed to bask in it at the same time. His hands squeezed your sides as he kissed you back, a small whimper escaping his throat either out of surprise or relief. He sat bolt up right, nearly sending you flying back but his hands kept you secure. Your wrapped around his neck as he kissed you back with passion. You pressed your whole body against his own, even able to feel how fast his heart was beating in his chest. “I love you.” You breathed as you pulled back for air. You returned his confession with your own. “And now? Can we still… you know? Be together?” He begged you, holding onto you for dear life. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Yes, but on one condition.” You sat back a little as he nodded for your condition. “No more secrets.” “None.” He nodded once again, relieved. “good.” You breath a sigh of relief. “It’s a little cold down here. Wanna go up stairs?” Your question was met with a smile as Reg nodded. You were about to move off him, but he wrapped his arms securely around your waist and lifted you up. Letting out a small giggle, you couldn’t help but lock your legs around his waist to keep yourself up as he carried you upstairs. He pressed small kisses to your cheek and neck as he did so before the two of you collapsed on your bed. Because you were able to move about more, you came up stairs to sleep at night. Your bed wasn’t made, so Reg was able to lie you down and then climb in with you, pulling the covers up to cover both of you. You instantly cuddled into him, having missed these intimate moments greatly. His arms wrapped around you as he pressed kisses to the top of your head. Reg had always thought he would dread the day he had to tell others about you. Not because he was embarrassed by you, but because he knew people would judge and say you could do better. And yet, he wanted nothing more than to walk into school with you by his side, holding your hand. He didn’t care what they thought about him. Now he only cared about what you thought, and as long as you were happy, so was he. And while the secret had been fun, he couldn’t wait for it to be over.

[luboytn]

rami’s thoughts about you

a/n: wow. hi there, yall! if you have any ideas of story that I should write about-jus tell me bout it! I’m writing about rami n all characters he played. hope u will like my work! thx tysm

pairing: Rami Malek x reader

summary: you work at the café. rami is having crush on u and after a long time he finally decided to ask u about your number.

warnings: -

word count: 1500+

_________

I watch her long, tanned legs as she heads towards me. Y/N is wearing a white dress today with various colorful flowers; it reaches almost to her knees. She has ordinary white converss on his feet, which are already slightly damaged and dirty. Her hair is once again associated in a ponytail, which is decorated with a sweet, small bow. At the waist, a black apron with a logo of the apartment is tied.

   I'm asking myself; How does this girl withstand this weather in this outfit? How aren’t her legs freezing when the north wind blows outside the window, which is like a breath of arctic cold, and every other day it is raining?

   I look out the window for a moment. I see many people outside, half of whom are already wearing large, down jackets, prepared for the winter and frosts. What's wrong with this girl?

   I bite my lip and tap my fingers on the table top. It's so annoying to have someone absorbing your thoughts. It distracts you from everything, because it is so unattainable, and at the same time literally, at your fingertips.

    - Good morning. - I hear her velvety, sweet like candy, voice, so I look at her. In addition to small freckles, today her face is also decorated with a wide, snow-white smile, which sends in my direction when our eyes meet. My gaze goes down to the notebook, which she holds in her hands; I stop my eyes for a moment, focusing it on her long nails. Each of them is painted in a different color, which seems to me quite an interesting solution.

   I do not know how long I watch them, but when I hear the girl grunt, I go back to the living and raise my head, looking her in the eye now.

    - Welcome to "Lucky Strike" - she says again - Can I accept your order now? - she asks, and I am correcting myself in my chair.

   I grab a card of dishes in my hands, although I know well that I am going to order what is usual. I am reading letters on paper again, and then I say:

    - Classic Italian espresso. - I smile at her, what she reciprocates, and then sketch something on the notebook sheet.

    - Anything else? - she asks without looking up, and I shake my head denying. - I'll give it in a second. - she says.

   Y/N turns around, hiding a small notebook into the only pocket of her uniform, and then goes away. I suspend my eyes on her perfect hips, but it only lasts a moment.

   I watch her enter the counter. She pushes under the cup shelf one of the crates that lie on the floor and then climbs onto it. She is too small to even now calmly reach for the desired dish. A pretty, charming sight, standing on tiptoe like a ballerina and trying to take off one of the cups. When she succeeds in a moment, involuntarily a creepy smile sneaks into my face, because I can see that it is the one with blue flowers.

   I wonder why she is still giving me coffee in it. I mean, in this specific cup. Literally all the other espresso cups are completely white, and the one that stands out is the one that goes to me every next time.

   Did she bring her it here? It is quite distinct, because it is the only one that is different. Maybe it's a kind of message? Is Y/N trying to tell me something? Oh, what am I saying. What would she want to show through a stupid vessel? That she likes blue flowers? Absurd.

   I shake my head, fleeing my thoughts back to the brunette. I watch her turning on the coffee machine, doing two neat turns. It looks like she really loved this job because you can always see a smile on her face. She comes here every day joyful. She does pirouettes from time to time, for no reason, and laughs at herself, like a small child. It is such a delightful sight that you would like to come here just to see it. It is the best attraction that I have seen in my life.

   I do not even know when, and I start to grin with myself and I have to look a bit strange, but I'm not really caring about it at the moment. I have such a sweet view in front of my eyes, I cant help how my body reacts.

   I feel my heart beat faster when the brunette finishes making coffee and walks with the t towards me. She looks like a kind who intends to show off her drawings.

   She leans over the table at which I sit. She puts a cup in front of me, saying kindly to "enjoy your coffee”. Then I pay attention again to her hands, and more precisely to the fingers that run gracefully through pure porcelain, when, after a really short moment, they disappear from my vision, I raise my head.

   Unchecked, I get up on my feet, almost pouring freshly ordered coffee. I make a bit of noise, so the couple from the neighboring table looks at me, but after a few second they return around.

- Can I still order something else? - I ask, one hand raising slightly upwards, as if I was a student in a school bench. Penny turns to me, then with a smile, returns to me and stands at the table, leaning on it.

    - Of course. How can I help you? - after asking questions, she reaches for a notebook and a pen, waiting for my next order. I begin to feel a slight anxiety and stress and suddenly, immensely strong, I am tempted to drink.

    - Could I get your number? - I say before I even manage to mentally prepare for possible rejection. My eyes widen because I'm shocked that I've gotten the courage to ask her about it.

   There is a somewhat awkward silence between us that echoes in my ears. Believe me, even when you hear no sound, this kind of silence can be deadly loud.

   - My number? - Asks brunette, frowning, and I feel my face paler. I want to break the window next to us and run outside; run and run ahead, so no one would know where I am.

   I'm starting to rebuke myself for my stupidity. Why did not I think she could have a boyfriend? She is so beautiful, kind and young, who would not like it for their self? Who would not want it to be their property? She may even be engaged or, worse, she has already got married; she has a child or even a bunch of them.

   My hands are prone to itch because I really want to smash something. I'm mad at myself. Why didnt I thought about that I may be not her type? She probably already noticed that I come here five times a week, at the same time, and order the same coffee; and when I do, I start to observe her. I don’t exclude the possibility that at this stage she considers me a murderer or a pervert. If I was her - would have thought about myself that way. What normal guy, approaching up to fourty, looks at the same woman, in addition younger, for a year, grinning like an idiot, while drinking coffee?

   - I think it would be better if you were to give me yours. - I hear Y/N’s voice, which pulls me out of the momentary state of reflection. I am slightly confused and try to understand her way of thinking. I raise one eyebrow, remaining quiet.

   Does she not want to hurt me by giving me the wrong number, but she still has no heart to reject me?

   - I do not have a phone, I'll call you from the booth. - she explains, probably seeing my embarrassment.

   - Oh - I say - Yes, sure. Give me a piece of paper, I'll write it down for you - Im trying to sound natural, although I have a panic attack inside.

   The girl pulls a piece of paper from her notebook and hands it to me with the pen. I enter my phone number on the card, trying to preserve the cute character of the letter. When I finish, i give it to the brunette, she puts it in her pocket, after folding it in half.

    - What happened to your cell phone? - I ask, hoping that I do not violate her privacy or I do not enter delicate topics. Who knows if her phone has not been stolen recently, along with other valuable things? Or maybe she has no money to buy it?

    - I just dont have it. - she answers briefly, seems slightly embarrassed. She has her head down and the pen in her fingers. Oh, if you could see her now; how sweet she is. I bet I assigned her this epithet at least fifty times today. However, it fits perfectly with her, she could be a definition of this word.

   At this point, it does not even seem strange to me that she does not have a cell phone. Well, I admit that in the twenty-first century, it's harder to find someone without a phone than with it. Especially when it's a person, more or less, my age, and Y/N seems even younger.

   Then I start to wonder how old she actually is? She looks like she is twenty-one, plus I've seen her drinking alcohol more than once, so she can’t be younger, right? I would not call her older than me, I'm sure. Therefore, I estimate that she may be about twenty-two years old. However, her low height and the clothes she used to wear make me puzzled, because if I look only at it, I would call her a teenager, maybe even a preschooler.

    - I'll call you before I start work. I hope you are not asleep before eight. - she says with a smile that I reciprocate.

    - No, I'm not sleeping. Relax, you have nothing to worry about. - I'm lying, because I usually get up at ten o'clock, but I would pick up my phone even if she was going to call in the middle of the night.

    - That's good. - she smiles, hiding the card with my number in the pocket of her uniform. - I need to get back to work - she says, in a sweet voice, then moves away from the coffers in a lively step.

- I’m Rami, by the way - I'm screaming after her before she can get far away from where she would not hear me anymore. She only turns her head, and from her mouth movement I can read - "I know."

It does not take much to wonder how she knows my name. In fact, I immediately reject the idea of ​​divorcing myself.

   I sit back in my seat and let it out of my lungs. I'm still watching Y/N, until she finally disappears from the field of my vision as she enters through the dark door to the back.

I want to jump around the whole café; just shout and run around the tables, ignoring the others. I cover my mouth with a hand when a stupid, pride smile sneaks into it. With the fingers of the other hand I hit the table top, because my body is not able to behave calmly now.

Joy, excitement permeate all of me and I have the impression that any moment i will explode from the excess of intensity of these emotions.

I punish myself in my thoughts for procrastination with Y/N’s approach. She is so nice. Who knows, maybe if I started talking to her faster, we would be in a relationship that would bring us closer till we’d become a boyfriend and girlfriend; or at least friends with benefits.

[galoismyhimbo]

New Oc (This gonna be long and messy im sorry)

Name: Samantha “Sam/Sammy” Coleman

Birthday: November 6th, 1988 (Age 30)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 5′8

Occupation: Peggie (later defected), demolition expert (and melee fighter if that counts lmao)

Backstory(pre-cult): Sam was born in the small town of Belfield, North Dakota; she never knew her father and her mother worked constantly. So, Sam had to watch over her younger sister from ages 5 to 17. She lived in poverty, her mother barely making it check by check. Because of this, they wouldn’t have food for days sometimes; which led her to stealing from stores. Sam was always a rebellious child so these things came naturally to her, usually being able to lie her way out of being caught. She would steal candy and small snacks from the corner gas station after school on Friday’s for her and her sister, never seeming to get caught by the man who owned the place. That or he never cared to stop her, either way she always looked forward to it. Sam drank a lot in her teens, stealing it from her mother or even from stores, sitting up on her roof and just relaxing. She liked the peace and quiet of her town, she won’t lie; it was nice at night. She would listen to the crickets chirp with her little sister, watch storms that went through, and even snuck outside to play in the snow every winter. Her sister was dear to her. Sam was genuinely nice to her sister but was very confrontational to everyone else, which led her to many fights throughout her school life; even getting into some outside of school. And as much as she loved to fight, she was getting tired of it; tired of the school, tired of the other kids there, tired of her family. She just wanted to start a new life by herself. And so she decided to run away as soon as she got out of juvie (she ended up in there after beating the holy hell out of another kid during a fight. She was there from age 16 to 17). The moment she was released she went home, grabbed any food and clothing she could, stuffed it into her backpack and stole her mothers car; picking a direction and driving West. The car eventually breaks down in some part of Montana, so, she takes the bus from then on. She didn’t know where it would take her nor did she really care. She eventually got off the bus in Hope County. She would lie and say she wasn’t scared but she was, she was in an unfamiliar place at night and it didn’t feel right. But nevertheless, she started walking towards some lights in the distance, eventually arriving in Fall’s End. She slept inside the church that night since she had no where else to go; she woke up the next day to a man standing over her with a concerned look. She later learned his name was Jerome and he took her in for awhile. Sam was nice to him, but only because she needed a place to sleep; she didn’t care for him in all honesty (that changes in the future). 

(Cult) little note: Idk when Eden’s Gate actually arrived in Hope County so just, forgive me and my dates if they completely wrong.

Sam arrived in Hope County around 2005 and by then things were pretty normal in the County. Sam helped around in the bar for a bit to make some money, and because she could steal some beer. But about 3 years later, a group showed up in the County, called Eden’s Gate that was led by a man named Joseph Seed. She didn’t pay much attention to him or the group, nor did anyone else really. It wasn’t until she heard rumors of people being forced to join the group, and that the group was acquiring land and weapons over years, that she became interested. She just wanted to see if these rumors were true, and it wouldn’t hurt to see just ONE of Joseph’s sermons, right? So one day she decides to go to one of his sermons held at a nearby farm; Jerome tried to warn her not to go since most of his congregation left for Joseph and his teachings, but she didn’t listen. And so she went and listened, not believing anything he was saying, and as she glanced around, she seemed to be the only one. Everyone there was entranced by Joseph Seed and she had no idea why, his words were bullshit to her. But he seemed to hear her thoughts, constantly looking her right in the eyes as she had sat up front, that was a mistake on her part. Every time he looked at her she would feel nervous, she hasn’t felt this way before. After he was finished she got up to leave, as was everyone else, but was stopped by two people. They had that symbol on their clothing, the symbol for Eden’s Gate. She glared at them and told them to move but they didn’t, and she just got angrier. She wanted to get the Hell out of there. When she looked over her shoulder she could see Joseph, and his siblings, as he called them, looking at her. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking, but she didn’t like what was happening. She tried to go around the people blocking her way but was pushed back. All she could think was, “I fucked up”. She wasn’t allowed to leave and instead was led to a small body of water, a couple people pouring something in it. She stopped walking at the sight, trying to turn back around but was forced forward by a man. She didn’t see who it was but his grip was rough as she was basically dragged into the water, yelling at them to let go. The last thing she remembered was the man talking, another person coming up, grabbing her arm, and forcing her head under water. Whatever was in the water wore off at some point and she finally was in her right mind, but found herself in a room at a table. Joseph sitting across from her with his hands folded on the table. He talked about how he saw the pain in her eyes and how he knows she feels alone, but that she could have a family once again. She wanted to roll her eyes but stopped herself from doing so. She watched him slide a cup towards her as he spoke about being a family, but she pushed it away, saying “You don’t need to drug me. You already forced me that on me in that lake. I’ll join your group willingly; i’ll do whatever ya’ll want. Just don’t drug me.” She felt like she was having a heart attack as she said that, she didn’t know how things would turn out. But she remembers Joseph just staring at her for a good minute or two before giving a small nod, motioning her to stand as he did. Whatever she did over the next 10 years is something she’ll try to forget.

(how she eventually escaped): Sam had been a Peggie for years and its messed with her head. Yeah, she was always an angry person, picking fights with others constantly. But she just got angrier in the cult, and it was because of what the cult was doing. Building bunkers, saying the world was ending, killing innocents, making HER kill. They did things to her that fucked her up as well. Faith forcing that bliss onto her whenever Joseph thought she was “acting out”. John carving sloth, lust, and wrath onto her body. Luckily, she was never given to Jacob. She knows what he does to people. But over time she started to get on the Seed’s good side. She’s always been good at lying, and it seemed to work even on a man like Joseph, who said God spoke to. This is what eventually led her to seeing an old friend again, River. They both grew up in that small town, Sam being older than the other, she was always looked up to. Sam always hated it, she was no role model. She saw River with Joseph, and she looked scared. Sam knows she was with that group of deputies, the ones that crashed in the helicopter and were taken to each herald. Poor River was given to Joseph, and that had to be because of her gentleness. River never got into fights like Sam did as children, and Sam doubted she changed over the last few years. She knew she had to get River out, and she was glad she was close to Joseph. He would trust her enough to watch over River. And after a few weeks, that eventually happened. One of the deputies had been fucking things up for the cult, so Joseph was too preoccupied with that to watch over River. So, one night, Sam went into the room River was in and told her about the escape plan. “I know, long time no see. But i need to make this quick. You can’t stay here any longer, Joseph is going to mind fuck you like no other, ok? A person like yourself is easy prey for him, so follow me and be quiet.”

River wanted out so she blindly followed. They got outside and just started running, seeing a patrol of Peggies coming towards them. They were eventually followed after, bullets whizzing pass them as the ran. River was confused when Sam suddenly stopped her, taking her by the arms and looking into her eyes. It was dark out, they could barely see the others face. But River could hear the fear in Sam’s tone as she spoke. "You better get that little ass out of here, cause i’m getting myself in some deep shit and it will be worth it if I know you're no longer in this Hell hole. They don't need to corrupt anymore people with their fucked up beliefs. NOW GO!" River remembers seeing Sam shoot her gun into the air to draw attention as she ran to the right, away from her. River did get back to the resistance.

Sam was eventually caught by the Peggies and lets just say, went through HELL. Papa Joe was NOT a happy man. She was sent to John to “atone” for her actions, and boy did he make it hurt 10 times more. Yet, she never regretted helping River; even smiling a few times during her “atonement” whenever John would say to confess her sins. “It can’t be a sin to help an old friend leave Hell” She was eventually found by resistance members and was helped to safety, too weak to fight the Peggies that tried to get her back. She actually blacked out at one point, waking up in a room alone. She knew she was safe now, feeling relaxed for once. But also that anger within her was coming back up, and she will give those Peggies Hell the moment she is strong enough to. River and her grew closer and closer over time, Sam confiding in River about what happened to her. She was never good with expressing her emotions, but River sure was; and that gave Sam comfort.

Once Sam was strong enough to fight, she did. She learned how to build explosives, made her favorite weapon: barb wired baseball bat, and fucked up any Peggie she saw. She helped that deputy with anything, River and her being a duo in certain tasks.

“If ya ever need a dramatic exit with explosions? Call me. AND if ya ever need someone to bash a Peggie’s brain in? I’m your girl.”

Facts:

- She has a sleeve of tattooed bliss flowers on her right arm.

- She actually got close to John first, she figured it be easier than the other heralds. She even had a one night stand of sorts once. She hates talking about it cause she finds it embarrassing. Her first sober thought the next morning as she ran out his room was, "I dont need him getting attached to me! Nope!"

- Joseph kept his promise of not blissing her up, or she thinks he did. She my have been slipped some, who knows?

-Joseph could see Sam's reluctance in her actions many times, however. So he and his heralds always kept an eye on her. He feared she was on the brink of defecting, but didnt think she'd do so with eyes on her 24/7.

- John calls Sam, "little Devil", for many reasons lmao

- Sam is a big drinker, and she hated the fact you couldnt drink in the cult. Also it's a reason she liked John in the beginning; he always had alcohol hidden away.

- here's a playlist I have for her so far: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7zAKlUsEuQMsvWt4Y5Q3vn

- after defecting from the cult, she reconnected with Jerome. Shes realized that he tried to teach her how to do right things all those years ago. And while she still rebels against him, or everyone really, she cares about him now. Unlike in the past.

- If given the chance, she would start a cult as a way to say "fuck you, this ones better" to Joseph

- Shes met Emily and Hope before, both being deputies along side River. She isnt close to them but occasionally helps out with missions.

Random Quotes:

. "You never know when a decision is going to change your life. So always be careful around here."

. "You don't know how nice it is to see the fear in the peggies eyes. I've seen it countless times in

. "I wont lie, you shouldnt trust someone like me. Not saying I'll go back to Joseph, but just with things in general."

. "River is too fucking kind for her own good. And I know Joseph loves that, so keep her safe when I'm not around"

[yourjughead]

Athletes

Sweet Pea x Reader.

A/N: aahhhhh idk what this is but it's a thing so, enjoy.

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

Sweet Pea POV

“Nah dude forget it, yn is Champagne and Caviar, you're more like tap water and a Mars bar”

“I could be Champagne and...whatever the second thing was Fangs” I pushed his shoulder as he laughed. Damn my best friend for being right. Yn was those things, I was just a peasant, a simpleton...a Serpent, not good enough for her.

“Besides dude Kevin says she's super into guys who are sporty and I don't think she counts motocross as a sport, snob”

“She's not a snob!...I think and thanks for asking anyway, you get a wingman point” he did a little bow and I laughed before returning my attention to cheerleader surrounded by her admirers. Who am I kidding, out of my league.

~

I sat in the back of AP Physics class, lost in doodles while Ms. Curie droned on about magnets or her husband or something when my interest suddenly peaked. My cheerleader walked in, handed Ms.Curie a note before they both smiled and next thing I knew YN was sitting next to me, physics book in hand. She gave me a little confused look and then a smile, shit, I was clearly staring at her.

“Okay so why don't you discuss with your partner that theory and I'll be back in a few moments I just have to ring my husband” she made her escape and the class began to hum to life with anything and everything except for physics.

“Im Yn...thats a cool drawing” she gestured to the combustion engine I had absentmindedly penned.

“Oh thanks, I'm Sweet Pea...I thought Kevin said you did Chemistry?”

“Excuse me?” She was laughing and it was then I realised I had let slip that I was doing recon. Stupid Sweets Stupid! My eyes darted back to the engine I could easily make sense of.

“Umm well you tell Kevin he needs to update his intel-” okay so she's laughing so she's not annoyed or creeped out...maybe she is and she's just polite.

“-i was doing Chemistry but I finished the course at home over winter and I just thought I'd try AP Physics”

“oh right right, casual for a cheerleader to do, nothing easier left?” I smiled and she didn't.

“Why isn't it? I'd prefer if you didn't lump all Cheerleaders into the same stereotypical category. I know you're a Serpent but i haven't stereotyped you, you're in a gang from an underprivileged school, what are you doing in AP Physics?” The last comment dripped with sarcasm, the rest with annoyance, whoops.

“i didnt-I-eh”

“Yeah, I thought so” she swivelled back to her book and I was almost cursing myself aloud as the bell rang.

“Oh and by the way, I find Physics easy, jerk” she said in passing as she gathered her things and practically stomped out the door.

~

I told Fangs later what happened and he very nearly almost fell off the bench laughing. He then did actually fall when I pushed him. Toni just shook her head in disapproval and Jughead joined Fangs laughing on the the floor I guided him towards.

“It's really not that funny, she hates me now!”

“It's hilarious Sweet Pea but don't worry about it, really. Yn is really lovely once you get to know her...and don't underestimate her.-” Jones laughed through his sentence but I still believed him slightly. He knew more about this concrete world and it's inhabitants than we did, I'd just have to take him at his word.

“-Anyway, really you're barking up the wrong tree if you wanna get further than friends. Rumor is she only dates athletes and I don't think pool counts”

“Wow everyone just loves attacking my idea of sports….what else could I do here?”

“Boxing?” Toni offered and Fangs laughed.

“Nah SP, you'd win every fight but not by following the rules”

“Football?”

“They're on hiatus for the winter” I sighed aloud as my friends racked their brains, I found myself locking eyes with YN as she passed. She bit her lip and then returned to her conversation. Ugh god what a mess, I buried my face in my hands and that's when it hit me. No I mean, it literally hit me.

“WHO THE FUCK THREW THIS BASKETBALL!?” I stood to my feet after retrieving the ball, Fangs standing too. Archie jogged over and apologised, explaining he was attempting to teach Betty. Unlikely story but I saw YN stare and decided to simply return the ball... for a favor. I just found my new hobby.

Archie was helpful in getting me easily into the tryout, I dragged Fangs along to as he enjoyed basketball but mostly he wanted to impress Kevin.I was warming up with Fangs as Yn, Cheryl and the rest of the cheerleaders sauntered in for practice. Damn I'm going to be distracted. The sight of me seemed to catch her off guard and she raised an eyebrow at me when I caught the ball Fangs threw. Let's do this.

~

Damn I forgot how much I loved Basketball, it was nice to have a coach that actually cared about technique for once. I had never been so in the zone and clearly it made me cheesy.

“So YN wouldn't shut up about you after your try out today” my new friend Veronica smiled at me before I ducked inside Physics where yn sat. We both remained in silence for a little while before I broke.

“Yn I'm really sorry I offended you, I didn't mean to and I know that doesn't make it okay but I'm sorry”

“It's alright Sweet Pea, I'm used to it...you were great at tryouts today, hope you make it” she batted her eyelashes and my heart melted. Damn her.

~

Next day we were called into the gym to see who made the team. Yn and the rest of the cheerleaders were practicing, this didn't help with my nerves. I had spent the night previous texting her and her constant reassurance both settled and put pressure on me all at once.

My name was called and it was like this huge weight shattered from my shoulders, they handed me that blue and gold jacket I hated so much. Yn ran over to me when they finished with the names, wrapping her arms around me.

“Congrats Sweet Pea!” I tried my best not to completely squish her in the hug but I simply wanted to always be this close.

~

The following time after I became entirely immersed in this world, in her world. Whenever she was on the sidelines I was winning and let's just say I spent a lot of time winning. We became kind of inseparable, the stereotype of star athlete and head cheerleader. I kind of loved it. To add to this developing relationship was a little thing involving basketball. The championship. We were in it! Never in a million years did I think we'd get this far but we were here!!! And wow did training get intense. Too intense.

“Wanna hang out later Pea?”

“Can't, practice” she sighed in annoyance at me while leaning against my locker. If I was honest I had been blowing her off a lot lately but she only dates athletes and that's what I'm doing sooo. Fangs threw himself alongside her with Jug and Toni close behind.

“Come on SP we're going to the quarry”

“We can't Fangs, we have practice”

“Nah I'm not going today, need a break and besides Kevin is going to come to the quarry” this was met with sounds of oohs and ahhs as well little shoves. They were almost as cute as Yn and I.

“Alright alright leave it” he was defensive but was was slowly warming to our teasing.

“Anyway come on SP let's go”

“Nah I'm going to practice”

“Fine, yn?” Her head snapped to his with pure shock. In general they had a turbulent relationship, just kind of existing in my world at once. She was entirely happy to be invited along and after kissing my cheek goodbye she disappeared off with them.

I was still training by myself when the Serpent's ascended on the place, my wonderful weird friends, who were getting in the way of practice.

Toni snatched ball from me and began passing it around me much to my protest, yn watching laughing from the bleachers. I didn't find it funny.

“Guys come on stop! I need to practice”

“No way dude, it's time to take it easy” I fumbled at Fangs managing to take the ball, shooting and making the hoop. The Serpent's cheered and then stole the ball again and were running circles around me.

“Guys seriously fuck off I need to practice!”

“Dude relax! You're taking this too seriously!”

“No I'm not fucking joking Toni!” This only poked the dragon.

Toni passed to Jug and Jug to Fangs. I went to intercept Fangs pass to Ryan, missing and falling in possibly the awkwardest way possible. There was a deafening crunch met with searing pain. Fuck. The pain coursed through me until I actually blacked out.

~

I took the tendon in my foot almost clean off the bone and after they had almost fixed it, I was left unable to play...or walk...or breath too much. Yn wheeled me out of the hospital with Fangs carrying my things. Their guilt was immense but my worry was worse. This was the end for yn and me. No foot. No game. No jacket. No girlfriend. No hope.

“Right I'll go get the car, you two wait here by the entrance” he was missing the championship to be here with me, did I mention that he felt guilty?

“I'm sure you'll be able for next season Pea, don't worry"

“And if not I suppose you'll be off”

“Excuse me?” I huffed at her confusion, turning my wheelchair from here, the painkillers a godsend.

“It means you'll be off with some other guy by then”

“And why do you think that”

“Because yn, everyone knows you only date athletes and I don't know if I'll ever be one again” she caught the handle of my chair and swung me around. She bent down so she was eye level with me, her hands still gripping the handles. Kind of hot.

“Who said that?”

“Everyone, everyone says it”

“Well everyone's wrong. I date whoever I want and yes they do tend to be athletes but that's only because I'm around them 6 days a week! The first time you spoke me you stereotyped me and now you're doing it again!” she pushed slightly from the handles but not enough to move me. She tucked her arms into her chest very clearly annoyed.

“So now you're going to break up with me?” I said smally.

“No! Of course not! We're just having an argument and that's okay! Ugh it's like you've never had a girlfriend or something!” The air between us suddenly changed. Oh shit.

“Wait...you've never had a girlfriend have you” I could only shake my head slowly, eyes locked on her feet. Her arms dropped to her sides and she sighed.

“It's okay Pea, but you just need to know I'm not going to dump you for something stupid like this conversation” she crouched down by my side and leaned in to kiss me. I gladly accepted, loving every moment I was this close. We were interrupted by Fangs as he attempted to break the horn of my car.

“oh I see you're using a different kind drug SP” He called from the driver's seat.

“Yeah same one you and Kevin are using” I could only smile at my girlfriend at her comeback while she wheeled me to the front seat of the car. We ultimately lost the championship, but I couldn't care less.

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

Xx