#plus just ic stuff on here and gray

[svndaysaweek]

Wanna Make You Mine — {Feat. Minji}

5k words

A/N: Hi, it’s been a while! I felt like I should write and post something, and here it is. This was not written in my best condition, but it’s Minji😌. Honored to have had @chunksworld as a beta-reader and an editor! If you find some amazingly well-written sentences most likely it’s from him haha☺️ Enjoy!

******

It was a few days ago when rain poured heavily, unexpectedly leading to one of the hottest encounters you have ever experienced in your life. And the more you reminisce, the bigger your smile grows, bittersweetly. If someone told you it was a dream, you’d buy that. A fever dream, albeit a short one. But it hasan everlasting lingering image carved in your heart. It was fire-hot, it was ice-cold. Like bubble gum you savor it when it tastes sweet, but it diminishes when the sweet is gone.

The day you forgot your umbrella is a day you will never, ever forget. It was a surprise, a super hot one to you. And like a hit-and-run, it stuns you, and then leaves, barely leaving any marks.

******

You don’t precisely remember since when, but there’s something about her that made her stand out to you. Multiple times you caught her looking your way then quickly avoiding your eyes–it happened enough for you to sense how unusual it is. 

It’s not because she stands out; she doesn’t. She is considered by many as a model student and everyone likes her. Acing quizzes, straight A’s and with a courteous manner. She was given every admirable virtue in her heart, and radiates it like it’s her body odor. A waking proof that humans can be perfect. But she’s not the one to boast about it, keeping down people’s envy in the level of admiration and friendliness. 

For you, Kim Minji is just another student who happens to be in the same school as you. Sometimes you get a nod as a sign of greeting from her and sometimes she just passes by. Still, everytime you run into her, her tranquil smile tells you how she became the model student that she is. Not a single person in this school would succeed in disliking her. You see how everyone says hi to her just to hear it back. And with no exception, she does. To you, too, of course. Sometimes she says “hi” first, and sometimes you do. 

A respectable student. That’s it. Nothing less, nothing more.

******

Today it is raining. At this point, it’s plausible that God knows you didn’t bring your umbrella for the third time this month. Third time you brought an extra tumbler, third time you left your umbrella at home, and the third time it rained. Youthink of repenting but deep in your mind you know God owes you a big apology, not the other way around.

The downpour is heavy so you decide to wait in school knowing that it will die down in a few minutes, well that's what you hope because you don't want to risk getting any of your stuff wet.

You are and have always been a quiet kid in school—an introvert. Just the right amount of friends, not really prone to being bullied, a surprisingly average amount of female interactions and above-average grades. Just one of those boys who loves listening to music, watching movies and a bunch of other things.

Can’t spend a rainy day without music on your headphones, can you? Plus, it’s just you in this big hallway so you wear it and turn the jazzy classics on while you stroll lazily along the windows. You blindly step to the comforting rhythm of the song watching the droplets kiss the window. Guess you won't blame God for the rain this time. 

You look at the dark gray concrete walls, white window frames, bright gray limestone floor, and the wooden doors of the classrooms you walk by. With the music flowing through your ears and rain crashing on the windows right in front of you, even the gloomy colors of the school building looks rather comforting.

So you walk, and walk, and walk until you’re back in front of your classroom. The rain has become a lot more silent than when it started and it’ll get dark soon. You want to spend your Friday evenings at home and not in school.

The rain will have stopped by the sunset and theair would beclean then. You wouldn’t want to miss the glow of the setting sun with such a crystal clear sky. You imagine the view it’d give you, which songs would be perfect to listen to and you just can’t hold a smile back. 

“Oh! Oh… hey…” When you open the door, Minji is frightened by you. She looks disheveled from head to toe. Her hair is frazzled, her face ruddy, her breath heavy. But what’s more desecrating is that her shirt is open, her unblemished midriff has a layer of sweat-like liquid coating it, taint on her gray bra. All of it is sent to your brain to process, which causes it to cease functioning for a second.

“D-don’t mind me.” Then she rushes to what you assume to be the restroom Kim Minji, who has never even opened a button of her shirt in school before and yet you just saw her bare belly. You’re blushing, trying not to think about it but you fail miserably. It feels dirty to be like this—she isn’t one of those provocative types of girls to you… or she wasn’t.

But you can’t explain why she’s so frantic with her skin so exposed. Why was she so out of breath and sweaty? Why was she so surprised to see you and then proceeded to rush outside the classroom?

Has she been sacred or sanctimonious? Has she been exemplary or errant?

You know it’s a rash judgment.

You step inside the classroom then walk over to your seat where you find an oddly-placed puddle on the desk. Not as big as a spilled bottle of water, not as small as the drool you usually make when you doze off with your face buried in your arms during class.

You examine it by dipping your finger on it.

Definitely not water.

Then what?

“What's this?” You find a blue switch and pick it up. 

“Hey,” Flabbergasted, you turn around so quickly that it slips out of your grip. It's Minji who's standing at the door frame, leaning slightly on the wall. 

Her shirt is still open, and so are the stains on her bra and her messy hair. It seems like she didn't tidy herself up in the bathroom. 

“Did you spill something on my desk, Minji?” For the moment you think that's what happened. Every clue provided to you is telling you just one thing, and you're pretty sure you got it right. Maybe she'll apologize, and you're going to say it's nothing and help her clean it up. She'll then thank you and say you're such a nice person.

Well, it sure is a possible series of normal things to happen. 

Unless Kim Minji brings a crazy plot twist for the two of you only.

“No, I didn't.” And step by step she approaches you. The way she walks draws your eyes to her slick legs and the uniform skirt she's wearing: dark gray as always. But it hangs way higher than usual, so high and short that you almost catch a glimpse of her underwear.

You're just standing there still, wondering why she’s acting unprecedentedly strange. You don’t even recognize that she’s already just in front of you. You’re trying your best not to look at her breasts even when she slowly squats down to the floor.

“You dropped this.” You realize when Minji hands it to you that it is a switch. That she wants it in your hand and that she wants to see you flick your finger on it and turn it on.

“Minji, is this…?” There is only a shy grin on her face. Swear to god, you didn’t even imagine in your dreams that such a thing would happen to you. You’re yet to escape the stage of denial, to be honest. Where was the heads-up to begin with?

“Wanna try turning it on?” Her tone is so casual that you didn’t get it the first time. You’re just totally dumbfounded. Minji sees it, knows it and understands it.

“Go on, do it.” Her eyes are on your fingers. Her teeth dig into her bottomlip. Her eyelids flutter. Your thumb is now on the switch, ready to flick it on. Your thumb presses on it, just enough for the knuckle to whiten up, but not really turn it on.

Her arms hug your neck, and the moment she does, you flick the switch up. You didn’t mean to, but when she hugged you your thumb automatically moved so it was turned on with a clicking sound. An embarrassed gasp leaves your mouth.

But when she buries her face in the crook of your neck and moans all the gibberish improvised excuses building in your head washes away.

At the risk of sounding grandiose, it’s rather the situation she lures you in that is overloading you mentally. It hasn't even been 5 minutes since you ran into her.

“Y-you know…” At this point you can’t even imagine what’s going to unfold. If she confesses that she is in fact an alien from Saturn you’ll sense no absurdity. You’ll just breathe it in.

You feel her body shaking by how her weight changes every second. And you’re standing there like a dumb statue, not knowing where to put your hands, even when she’s almost climaxing mere inches away and your lust is getting completely heightened by it.

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long…”

No one couldn’t have ever anticipated that. For a moment you forgot to breathe; Minji has taken it away. And when she bites into your shoulder you gasp, feeling the tingling sensation rushing down your spine.

“I’ve liked you eversince the first time I saw you by the way.” She’s struggling to make her words distinguishable in between moans and hisses, while you’re struggling to come up with a proper reaction to what you’re currently experiencing.

This whole situation you find yourself in is so foul and so hot given that she’s one of the most admirable students of your school. She was supposed to be out of your league and yet somehow the timid and quiet boy is who she wanted all along.

“You’re going to make me cum…!” Hearing it coming through her lips makes your head spin, makes your cock throb painfully inside your pants. You don’t even expect yourself to think straight, nor want to think straight.

During the day she’s a model student, then after school she becomes a kinky pervert. It’s the least possible thing in your life to happen and yet here you are.

But when she cums and squirts on your pants, you’re proven very wrong. 

“I… I like you.” Out of breath she whispers, still cumming and you support her by her bare waist. You switch off the toy and just let her go through the bliss of post orgasm.

As she comes down her arms let go of you, still panting. “Do you like me too?” That’s not even a question, as her eyes are on your shirt and her hands are already halfway down unbuttoning it. 

“Minji…” You take her already open shirt off of her arms before fondling her breasts over her bra. Your eyes are fixed at the pair in your hands while you can feel hers glaring into your eyes.

“Mhm. Go on. Take as much as you like.” Her hands seductively unbutton your shirt, one by one, from the top down. She’s not in a hurry but in a matter of seconds your top vanishes. Then she puts her lips dangerously close to yours, hovering and tickling your lips with subtle skims. 

“But don’t forget to let me do the same, okay?” She sounds so full of confidence but her face is as red as yours. The eyelock doubles and triples the heat between you two and when the distance is completely eliminated by a messy lip lock, your heart begins to beat out of your chest.

Her tongue is aggressive inside around yours. Her hand is already a hand of a luster, already sneaking down on your pants sending shivers up to the crown of your head so easily. You grab and unhook your belt, and Minji purrs delightfully when she sees your erection spring out ontoher belly.

“This is a yes, right?” Minji pushes you lightly, just enough for you to know that she wants you on the desk. Her tummy brushes against your erection as she climbs up to face you again after swiftly removing her bra. You’re met with her mouthwatering pair of breasts pressed against your bare chest. 

“I don’t understand why…” Her fingers trace down your jawline to your lips. The placidity oozing out from her words is making you fret over—inside, you want her to take advantage of this one-way situation as much as she can. Your hands find her sweaty tits and fondle them softly, and she moans with a dreamy smile.

“But you kinda make me feel things. Unexplainable, but certainly that’s more than just love.” It's an overwhelming lust you obviously planted in her. You can see how ripe it is, and now you’re reaping it. It’s sweet, the flesh, the hue is so mature and obscene. 

“Say something, hmm?” When you part your lips to say ‘I like you too’, however, her tongue ties a knot on yours. You feel the pace suddenly upshift when she strokes your cock slowly and when you involuntarily moan and flinch. Your breaths overload your lungs while your mouth has totally fallen by what the intertwined tongues are doing inside.

“Minji… I-I like you too.” You didn’t mean to just whisper it. However it somehow did work as the cue to make her start pleasuring you with her hand. 

The smirk on her face is almost a burden to your already weary mind, topped with the anticipating lip bite. And those glaring, sly eyes which eventually force yours to squeeze shut. The sensation is too much for you to take in as it is, so your nails dig into your palms hard and your head tilts backwards. 

You don’t look comfortable at all—you aren’t, with all the unreal touches and heated breaths being poured on your skin. But that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this, of course. Her hand is pumping your cock at a constant rhythm, her groaning voice matches yours as if it’s as tantalizing to her as well.

“I’m glad you said that.” As if her confession was to be ignored by you. It was more of a seduction than a platonic confession to think about. Not that you can properly think while you’re getting mentally wrung by her. 

“You would’ve never known…” Minji slows down her hand around your throbbing cock. You open your eyes to be faced with her orbs mere inches away. 

Lust doesn’t seem to have dispersed from the jetty pair of pupils. “...how many times you relieved my stress from all the studying.” She continues her lewd confession of her sexual fantasies about you which could’ve been kept a secret… But what more to hide when you two are touching each other’s sex and mixing body fluids? 

When your fingers brush against her inner thighs, she hisses and tightens the grip on your cock. Nearing her core, you can feel the moist lust seeping out, leaking and running. 

“Do you think about me often too? Who am I to you?” You hesitate. But she doesn’t want any lies. Nor do you. 

“You’re just a… the model student of the school. A pretty one. A pretty, smart girl that I run into often.” You amazingly finish the sentence while riding off to the very edge of your patience under her bewitching strokes.

Just enough to feel incredibly heady but still seconds away from exploding on her hand. Your fingers aren’t idle either, as two of those smoothly enter her damp entrance. The tips of your fingers reach her toy inside and you pull it out slowly.

You see her belly flutter from the sensation of it. “Put your fingers in deeper,” She pleads as grinding herself on your fingers, situating you two in a mutual masturbation.

“I want to cum with you.” Her words trigger so many things inside you. Deeper and darker things, something the superficial you don’t possess. Something every guy would hide and keep deep under the surface and wait for the very chance to bring up.

Your fingers move, inside and out while hers move up and down. Both relentlessly, hungrily almost. The desire to see each other drown in bliss is paralleling the desire to feel it for oneself. You’re almost there, hoping that she is, too.

“Minji, I-I am… I can’t-“ You’re miserably stuttering, tongue twisted by how unblemished the sensation is from all sides—her soft hands working ever so hard and hot on the head of your cock, her lewd moans tickling your eardrums. Her face, that face making a look that just screams sex.

In no time you explode first, spurt after spurt in her hands as she still keeps on pumping it with pace. Your groan never dies down until you’re completely out of breath and strength.

Then Minji restarts grinding on your fingers that she stopped when you blasted the turbid pleasure on her fingers. You look up from her cum-coated fingers to her eyes, and it’s a head-spinning hypnosis that beams into your eyes from hers.

Dense, intense, a bit lethargic in a way and flooding with lust—seeing her crush cum in her very own hand, must’ve sent her into another galaxy at least, possibly another dimension. That is what sex can do even to a woman of high status.

“That was so hot. Now will you help me with this?” You already are when you’re snapped back from drifting off in the ocean of bliss. 

“I will.” You literally sigh words out as you still are trying to regain your breaths. You lay her down on the desks and crawl up to level with her face, fingers still making the dirty wet sound.

Minji’s face is a mess; it’s red, it’s sweaty, in need, desperate. Her eyes are fixed on your lips, her mouth agape, breathing into your face, it’s hot, her hands touching and squeezing her own breasts, her throat vibrates into your teeth and tongue when you kiss and bite it. And it happens to splash you all at once like a tsunami, but without the premonitory phenomena.

Kiss her neck, jawline and back to her lips. Her tongue welcomes yours, and after a few seconds she screams into your throat airily with her hands holding onto your shoulders.

“I’m close, I’m close, I’m-Oh!”

Hearing her you circle her clitoris with your thumb and it sends her away to bliss. To a heavenly abyss, where she doesn’t want to be bailed out. She’s squirting too, which makes it even hotter aside from her orgasming on your fingers. The watery sound makes you want to push into her even deeper.

You’re hard as rock again in no time after seeing the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, the least touchable girl in your school cum under your body on your own fingers. In school, in your classroom, on the table.

“Oh my god, is that your bag?” It’s a black backpack that her secretion is dripping onto. Minji is more entertained than concerned to your eyes however, and so are you. You wouldn’t mind if your iPad is broken from all the water for now.

“No, I don’t care. Mine is over there I guess.” You’re not sure, but not that you ever want to be. Because your eyes lock before hers darting at your cock on her above her belly. Then she looks into you again. And that’s it.

“Do you want to-“

“Yes.” It doesn’t even need any brainpower to say yes. So you take your agonizingly hard cock to her entrance. First you rub it against her pussy slowly, and it makes her let out a small gasp.

Her hands are on your arms, tightly gripping. Her eyes, they’re fixed at yours, her beauty beaming at you, and it flutters when your tip enters her hot cavern. Her fingers dig a little deeper into your arms, her teeth into her lip, as you enter her bit by bit.

It’s a whole new sensation to be wrapped around the wet walls. And considering that this is your first time, it’s not odd to be totally enraptured and indulge deep in straight away.

“Mmm…!” Your eyes roll back when you push in until you can’t. The world around you narrows down to only you two, hot breaths, sweaty skin and a mutual high that you never want to be detached from.

“G-go on, I’ll make you feel good.” As if you need any more motivation to dive in.

Minji’s coquettish smile is the last thing you see before you spontaneously shut your eyes and groan as you go deeper and deeper. You’re barely breathing, barely thinking, barely sensing anything.

“F-fuck me…”

Her shaking voice cooing those words is a complete switch-off to your reason. She said it shyly, with a burning face and big eyes looking up at you—it must be her first time to do this—and single-handedly sending shivers up your spine.

“Ah… Mmm yes!” You begin to move, and even to the slightest moves she reacts so sensitively. Her walls are wringing around your cock, pulsing and matching her intermittent moans as you gradually, tantalizingly raise the pace.

It’s as if time itself ceased running. Just you and Minji, feeling every part of each other, moaning against each other’s skin, a locomotive with a broken brake. Broken brake, but with a fully functioning accelerator.

As you up the pace her hands find your shoulders for support as yours roam around her torso. Her sharp shoulders, to her perky tits, brushing your thumb on her stomach randomly, overloading her with your touches. 

You lack subtlety and it’s even visible to yourself. Not knowing where to put your hands, not knowing what to say, only thrusting in and out and getting so worked up by hearing her moans and her face flooding with sex.

Eyes barely holding on, moans escaping her agape mouth along with her hot breaths, blushed cheeks. Her hands find the back of your head and pull you into a kiss, and it gives you the feeling of being possessed.

Like you’ve become hers.

Like you’re fucking her pussy and now kissing her with intertwined tongues for her, not for yourself. Which somehow, to your surprise, aggravates the lust deep inside you. A hidden need for the dynamics, even unseen to you.

Seems there will be plenty of time for you two to explore it further.

You go even faster in return for the kindling kiss she dragged you into. Her grip tightens, traps you in her arms—not that you ever want to escape—suffocating you with the sloppy lip lock.

And it throws a barrel of oil to your already-flaming fire. Your breath is completely taken by Minji, without any chance to get out, your will is rather on the side of dying with Kim Minji absorbing the last breath you have.

Soon her walls begin to pulsate around your cock, her screams that reverberate in your skull are now about to tip you over into unconsciousness.

“So good… I’m about to c-cum.” Her voice shakes. Your thrusts keep the pace, at a steady rhythm you’re pounding into her leaking pussy. The tightness goes up like crazy, her thighs lock your hips in and it makes you, forces you to discover her inside even deeper.

With every thrust Minji voices out how well your cock is stirring her inside. And the elevating tension in her moans lets you know how close she is to-

“Cumming…! Fuck!”

A trance. It is a frenzy, an ecstatic upheaval that overwhelms your patience, that demolishes the dam and lets whatever behind the wall flood in.

When her fingers dig painfully deep into your head, when her teeth leave an intaglio of her love, when her legs lock you in, for you to join her with the heady pleasure…

A streak of benumbing orgasm shatters your nerves as you paint her stomach and her heaving chest. It seems to never end, spurt after spurt until the repose is here. You can only stare at her—her still high face, cum-coated breasts and tummy heaving up and down.

You both are taking in the messed up view of each other, eyes locked but no words or signals delivered. You just stare into her eyes hoping that she makes a move on you first. To take you where she wants, perhaps. Another round could be awesome, but either way you’ll be so satisfied.

Together. With Minji.

“Let me bring something to clean-”

“No.”

Her hands snatch yours. Not strongly, but just soft enough to let you know what she means.

“Stay here for more… With me.”

******

“Hey. So… Can I ask you exactly when?”

Dark purple sky, humid breeze of midsummer. Clouds that showered the earth with their own bodies are now completely gone, and you and Minji are walking down the street towards the sunset.

“It was when you picked up my notebooks I dropped. You were putting on your headphones. Hair was just long enough to look good, and on top of everything… What I fell for was the smile on your face. I don’t remember the date it happened, but it was special. So special.”

Her fingers then sneak under your palm, in between your fingers and lock with yours together. It’s warm and soft. A romantic placidity under one of the most beautiful sunsets you’ve ever seen.

Her thumb lightly brushes on the back of your hand as you keep walking down the serene road. “But I don’t think you’ve wanted to do this since then, right? Not complaining, but it was quite an unexpected way of confession. Especially from you.”

Minji giggles with her crescent eyes looking down at the ground. “It’s been only weeks… I got so stressed out from studying and one day… I tried touching myself then I suddenly thought of you. Since that day, you know, it’s been like that.” 

But there’s no shyness anymore. It’s not a secret anymore, at least between you and her. Nothing is. Nothing will be.

It’s a hot thing to think about. A girl touching herself thinking about you. And that girl being Minji is what surpasses your imagination. She even got caught pleasuring herself in your classroom today-

Or even that was part of the plan. You think of asking her about it, but at the same time, you don’t want to make any gaffe come out of your mouth. Right now is where the tinge of romance should fade in, not that.

“You can, you know, call me honey… If you… want…” Minji’s grip on your hand gets tighter as her shy laughters follow. It immediately makes your face burn. You look at her and find that it’s doing the same to her too.

“Okay, Minji-I mean, honey.” You feel your face drumming to the beat of your heart. But it doesn’t hide the happy smile on your face.

A girlfriend.

And a boyfriend.

It’s mutual from now on. The first love in your life starts.

“It’s my home already.” She stops in front of a white two-story house and turns to you.

“Alright, goodbye, honey.” You let her hand go but it doesn’t leave yours. Instead, a zesty grin blooms on her face and she hums an airy chuckle.

“Not before this.”

Her lips find yours. They don’t open, but it’s a kiss filled with heartiness, a long peck, with an artificial smacking sound made by her.

“See you tomorrow honey!”

******

It is raining just like yesterday; you forgot your umbrella just like yesterday too. And you decide to stay at school until it stops.

As if you’re seeing a deja vu of yesterday.

Only if you could see a deja vu of yesterday.

Minji didn’t run into you today. She didn’t come to your class to say hi. She didn’t come to her class. 

She didn’t come to school today.

The day passed uneventfully just like yesterday. Class after class, lunch breaks and “see you tomorrow”s from classmates. But painfully, the only one who said it yesterday with a kiss wasn’t here to keep her words.

And the day ended just like that. No sign of Minji.

“You heard that?” Just before you put on your headphones, something penetrates your ears.

“Minji moved to New York!”

What?

You almost shouted but managed to deal with that.

First, it’s denial that hits you.

“What do you mean? I saw her just yesterday!” The other guy looks as confused as you are.

Second, the word ‘why’ comes up in your head. 

“I don’t know, man. Everything I heard was the teachers talking that there was a sudden incident that left no choice for her family but to move.”

Third, denial again.

You wanted to stand up and ask them, but what you are going to get is a weird look and a “Why do you even care?”

Didn’t she tell me ‘see you tomorrow’?

It’s all complicated for now.

Maybe you yourself are to blame for not asking your girlfriend’s number.

But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

It was your first love, starting hot yet pure.

Now it’s as if all was a reverie.

The air you breathe hasn’t changed, the classes you attend were the same, it rained like yesterday, and your umbrella stayed at home again.

But there was no Minji, although you still hear her merrily say-

‘See you tomorrow, honey!’

******

[ladylooch]

Letters in Your Last Name - Chapter 25

A/N: I will finish blurbs from last week at some point... but I'm in a very mehhh place and it's hard for me to be creative when I'm there. So... in the meantime, here is more Sam and Kev.

Word Count: 4.1k

“Babe.” Kevin whispers to me. I can feel the weight of him lightly pressing into my body from above. His elbows prop his weight mostly over me and his minty breath dances over my face. “Wake up.”

“Kev. I’m trying to sleep.” I groan, keeping my eyes closed. I reach my right hand up, feeling for his face so I can push him away from me. He dodges my hand and places insistent kisses vertically down my face, starting at my forehead and ending on my chin. I pop one eye open to look at him, drinking in his sexy face. Damn, maybe I will get up. He wiggles his thick eyebrows at me.

“I have planned out the perfect day. But for it to start, you need to get up.” I look over at the clock, scowling because it’s barely past 8:00 in the morning.

“This is grounds for divorce.” I snip, throwing my pillow at him. He shoves it to the side and grabs my hands, pulling me into a sitting position.

“Too late. We already submitted my green card application.” He jokes, a charming grin stretching his lips apart.

“Oh, well in that case.” I roll my eyes at him. “Does this day involve coffee?”

“Yep! We are starting our date with Iced Caramel Lattes from In the Loop. I hear they have chocolate croissants today too.” I bolt up, throwing the comforter to the side.

“Don’t need to tell me anything else.” I bounce to our bathroom, throwing the shower on.

Kevin’s laughter follows me into the shower. I scrub at my body, making it quick because the breakfast he has planned for us is that good. Afterwards, I dust my face with a little bit of make up, just enough to feel presentable. I head to our closet to change. Kevin has long since disappeared into the living room. I pull on a pair of light wash, denim shorts and a plain, mauve-ish pink shirt. I shove my feet into my gray and pastel pink Nikes. I figure this is versatile enough for anything he has planned. I finish the look with my diamond studs, then rush to the other side of the bed to replace my wedding rings on my finger.

I go to the full length mirror in our closet, double checking that I’m satisfied with how I look. I nod and grab my black, cross-body Kate Spade purse, tossing it carelessly over my shoulders. When I step out into the main area of our apartment, I immediately sense Matt Boldy’s presence. As I get closer, I can see him and Kevin playing FIFA on his Xbox. My steps slow, wondering how this impacts how quickly I’ll be getting my coffee.

“Fuck!” Kevin yells as Matt scores. The younger Wild star makes his virtual player run around the field like an airplane to celebrate.

“Gotta be faster than that, Kev.” Matt snickers, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Sam!” He shouts in excitement, getting up and wrapping me into a tight squeeze.

“Matty! Thought you were in Boston?” I question him, giving his back a quick rub during our hug.

“I was. I came back to sign my lease here and move my stuff out of Greener’s place.”

Matt had been living with Jordan Greenway for the last half of the season, but Jordan has a serious girlfriend now and has started kicking out all of his roommates. Plus, Matt is in a secure enough position with the team that he can afford to find his own place. When he asked Kevin what we thought of our building, Kevin encouraged him to come see for himself. He stayed with us for a few days at the end of the season then flew home to Boston. By the time he left, the on-ice chemistry created a tight off-ice bond between the three of us. Matt couldn’t attend our wedding in Switzerland, but we have been FaceTiming with him at least once a week this summer.

“Oh great! What floor are you on?”

“Twelve.” He grins at me.

“Fitting.” I nod my head. “Do you need help moving?”

“Nah, I hired some guys. They are just finishing up so I better get back to them. Thanks for the confidence boost, Kev.” Matt walks over to bump fists with him as Kevin shakes his head.

“That fucking kid.” He mutters to me once Matt has exited the apartment, but not before one last squeeze for me. “Ready?”

“You betchya!” I say in my most intense Minnesotan accent. He laughs at me, placing his hand on the small of my back.

“You look sexy. I love your ass in these shorts.”

“Um, bedroom?” I turn immediately, shoving at his chest to push him back towards our room.

“Okay, but quick.” He grabs at my hips. He pulls me flush with him and I feel his erection growing against my stomach. “I’ve got a lot of fun planned for us today.”

“Great. I think you fucking me speechless sounds like a pretty fun start.” _ _ _

The theme for the day is all our favorite things in Minnesota.

Earlier this month, Kevin and I returned to Minnesota after a brief honeymoon in Italy. Kevin’s contract negotiations with the Wild are still ongoing and seemingly picking up speed, but nothing has been solidified. After our honeymoon of bliss, our first order of business was securing Kevin permanent residency status in the Unites States. Kevin’s visa has always depended on being under an existing NHL contract, but now that he is married to an American, we can be done with the yearly applications. In order to get the paperwork and interviews completed, we decided to spend a majority of the summer in Minnesota rather than Europe. We are hoping to be returning to Sweden before the season begins, but only if we can get everything finished in a reasonable timeframe.

We start in the North Loop neighborhood of Minneapolis with a breakfast full of decadent coffee and chocolate croissants. Once we are full, we move on to a stroll around Lake Harriet. We walk casually hand in hand, enjoying the warm summer sun. Several people stop Kevin along the way, asking for autographs and pictures. Each time he gives me an apologetic look, but I love watching him interact with fans. The genuine joy they have seeing him for a moment fills my heart.

From there, we find ourselves at Wakame in the Uptown neighborhood, devouring sushi rolls until we almost have to be rolled out of there. Pun completely intended. After that, we drive back to our apartment to drop off Kevin’s car. We spend a good chunk of the afternoon wandering the area by the Stone Arch bridge, taking in the scenes of Minneapolis on a crystal, clear day.

After that, we get tired, heading back to our apartment to take a break, lazily running our hands over each other until we drifted to sleep. When we awaken, we change and freshen up for a fancy night in our city. We head to the Prohibition Bar to take in higher views of Minneapolis. We each enjoy two drinks then find ourselves at Manny’s Steakhouse for a decadent dinner.

“I think I gained five pounds today.” I say to Kevin as I push the rest of the chocolate cake completely to his side of the table. His eyes sparkle excitedly.

“More for me to hold onto when we fuck.” He shrugs, sliding the fork through his lips. “This cake is so good. It might beat Princess Cake.” I gasp.

“No!"

“Yes.” He is dead serious as he looks me in the eye.

“I won’t tell.” I swipe a finger across my lips then lean back into the cushion of the booth. I exhale heavily, feeling happy and full after our day of fun. “Thank you for a fun day.” I say as he devours the last bite of cake.

“We aren’t done yet.”

“What?” I raise my eyebrows surprised. “Babe, I cannot eat or drink one more thing.” I place my hand on my stomach for emphasis. “It’s a good thing I changed into a dress. The button on my shorts would have popped off already.”

“It doesn’t involve anything else to eat.” He assures me. “But it is a bit of a drive, so we should get going.” He tosses his credit card onto the table.

Ten minutes later, we are in the car heading east towards St. Paul from Minneapolis. Kevin reaches for my hand as we pass the Xcel Energy Center on our right, continuing on to the Eastern suburbs. Our car ride is mostly silent, but comfortable. I resist the urge to ask what is next, knowing he’s planned this much fun, whatever he has left will likely be too.

A few more twists and turns off the highway lead us to an empty lot in the city of Woodbury. My eyes scan the area, taking in the relatively private space. Large trees hide the lot from the road and the driveway is dirt. The closest houses are well in the distance and the land looks leveled, ready for whatever is planned to sit atop of it. Kevin unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to me, taking in my reaction. I think I know why we are here, but I turn, waiting for him to speak.

“This past month of marriage has been the best month of my life. I love you. And I’ve loved living in the city with you the last few years. But… I think it’s time for us to put some roots down.” I nod my head in agreement. “So, I reached out to a relator a few of the guys have used and he sent me this listing. I haven’t seen it yet, but he was willing to keep it off the market for me until we could come by.”

“Okay.” I nod, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door.

“He has a contractor who has helped build a few other athlete’s houses out here over the years. They have tons of different layouts and styles we can pick from along with a staff of designers to help with the smaller details. Basically, we can build anything that we want here.”

We walk around the car, meeting in the middle to lace our fingers together. Slowly, we walk along the land. Because it’s mid-summer, the sun is still up and it highlights the features of the lot well. It’s sizable, but unlike most new builds, it has older trees lining the area, providing much needed privacy.

“There were some other spaces west of the cities, but this is close to TRIA and the X along with your family.” I nod, continuing to take it in.

“I like this area.” I confirm, stopping to stand in the middle. “If we built facing this way, we would get a great view of the sunset and sunrise. The home would be bright and sunny.”

“It would make up for leaving our balcony.” He muses as me. “But, you could have your own coffee bar and the built ins you’re always looking at on Pinterest.”

A huge grin breaks out on my face and I shiver excitedly. A home of our own, that we get to build exactly how we want. It’s an opportunity I’m grateful to have presented to me right now.

“Picture this: a big kitchen, with one of those obnoxiously large islands, and five bedrooms so our three babies can have their own rooms. I don’t know how many, but a reasonable amount of bathrooms.” His arms are spread wide, gesturing to the whole lot.

“Yeah?” I laugh, looking around at the empty lot. “Oh! We need a big, bonfire pit and a deck. And! We could line the yard with those outdoor string lights too.”

“Deal. Anything you can dream up, we’ll make it happen.”

“Yay!” I bounce excitedly, spinning around in the dirt. A realization washes over me and the smile slowly falls off my face. If we build the house of our dreams here, how much harder does that make it to leave Minnesota? Plus, we might not even be here anymore when it’s done being built. “Except, maybe we should wait.” I say, turning back to him. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and the grin on his lips is obviously hiding something from me.

“Why?” He wonders, tilting his head to the side. His eyes are beginning to sparkle and I lower my eyebrows in confusion.

“You know something.” I narrow my green eyes at him accusingly.

“Why shouldn’t we do this?” He reiterates, swaying from foot to foot like he can barely contain what he wants to tell me. The excitement is building in me and I start laughing, which causes Kevin to start laughing. Then I’m bouncing up and down.

“Tell me!!!” I yell at him, bending over with my hands on my knees.

“We’re staying in Minnesota!” He rushes towards me, gathering me into his arms by my waist and twirling us around. I tilt my head back to the sky and scream in happiness. I can feel myself losing my balance, so I throw my arms around his head to secure myself to him.

“Are you serious!? When did you sign!?”

“I am signing tomorrow, but it’s a done deal.”

“Oh my god!!” I squeeze myself to his chest in a tight hug that steals my breath. I vibrate against him, tears building in my eyes. “How long? How much?”

“7 years, 7.8 million per year.”

“Baby! I’m so proud of you.” I cover his lips with mine in a desperate, sloppy kiss. “Look at you! All your dreams are coming true.” I pull back to look into his eyes becoming very aware of his hands on my ass.

“It’s been an above average summer.” He confirms to me with a light chuckle. “Getting you forever is still the best part though.” I shimmy in his arms then look back out across the lot.

“Oh… Matty.” I pout at Kevin. “You going to break the news to him that we are moving?”

“Not yet. We have some time. If he’s devastated, he can just move in with us.”

“Okay.” I nod my head with a laugh. Kevin loosens his grip on me, letting me slide down his body. His hands stay firmly gripping my ass. I turn back to his face. He presses our lips together, tongue sliding against my bottom lip. I open my mouth for him, sighing into the depths of our kiss.

“Let’s do this.” I whisper to him. He nods in agreement.

“That gives us time to build it, move in, get settled, then I’m putting a baby in you. Fast.”

We both agreed we wanted some time together being married before we added to our family. We also agreed we didn’t want to wait too long. A year felt right when we talked. Starting to build the house soon would keep us on that path.

“We should probably practice before you do that.” I murmur to him.

“Mmm. I think we are done here then.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

After one last, confirming look around the lot, we head back to Kevin’s Audi. As per usual, the black SUV races down the highway to our apartment. The car is barely off before our hands are on each other. We are like teenagers rushing into the elevator and up to the 15th floor. The door to our apartment bursts open from our force and we crash into our unit.

“I can’t get you naked fast enough.” I insist to him, hooking one of my legs around his waist. He lifts me into his arms, laughing as his breath dances against my mouth. I close the minuscule gap between our lips. My spine tingles at the connection and I feel the instant heat pulse within me. Our tongues connect and my hands thread through his hair, holding him close to me. His hands grip my thighs tighter and he lets out a low growl from deep in his chest.

Kevin turns and lays me gently onto the couch without our lips disconnecting. We kiss at each other fiercely and our hands move in the same frenzy as we pull each others clothes off.

“I have champagne in the fridge.” He tells me between kisses as our shirts come over our heads.

“Later.” I insist, reaching for him again. “This is the only way I want to celebrate right now.”

I slide my fingers into the waistband of his shorts and wrap my hand around his hard penis. My thumb brushes against the plump head and he melts further into me in response. I ease his shoulders back until he is laying against the couch so that I’m in control. I kiss my way down his chest and abs. I reach the trail of hair circling his belly button before leading me south and I let my tongue take over. Kevin releases a sexy sigh as I adjust him in my hand and place my lips against the head of his dick. My tongue leisurely circles him and his hand comes to the back of my head, encouraging me down further. He lets out a moan that makes my heart pound harder in my chest.

I work him over with my mouth and hand until I know he can’t stand it anymore. His hands are on my head and his hips are jerking himself deeper into my mouth. As much as I want him to come, I want it on my terms tonight. I wiggle out of my panties and then I straddle him, holding his strong shoulders for leverage as I slide down his shaft. There is a brief stitch of discomfort. I wait it out by kissing along his neck. I pull back and Kevin watches me with hungry eyes as I slide up then immediately back down. When he moves his hips to help, I shake my head at him.

“No. You’ll get your turn. This one is mine.” I insist. He lays his head back into the cushions, dropping his arms from me and letting me fuck him like the superstar that he is.

Being in control and watching his face soften in ecstasy pushes me further and further to the brink. I reach for my heavy breasts and hold them in my hands before stroking my nipples. They tighten and Kevin lets out a strangled moan that might actually be a cry. I close my eyes and drop my head back towards my shoulders in delight. “Baby, you look so good fucking me like that.” He encourages me and I know he’s close because he’s starting to help again. His hands come back to my hips and he works me into him in a faster rhythm that has us both crying out in pure, primal need.

“Oh my god.” Kevin whispers as I slide down him one last time, keeping him in me as we both begin to descend back to reality.

“That didn’t suck.” I whisper to him as I pull fresh breath into my lungs.

Kevin wraps his arms tightly around me and rocks me against him one last time before pulling out completely.

“I know you said next one is my turn, but I’m gonna need that again in about 20 minutes.” I laugh at him and run my fingers through the sides of his wild, brown locks. He definitely has just fucked hair.

“Go get me that champagne and we have a deal.” I respond, tilting my head before placing our swollen lips together again.

“Gladly.” He taps my butt, encouraging me to move off of him. I fall to the other cushion and watch with heavy eyes as he walks naked, with a half salute, around the couch. I bite my lip and his eyes meet mine in a knowing look. He stops behind me and tilts my head back so he can Spiderman kiss me. “Love you.” He tells me so earnestly that I literally swoon in my seat. He kisses me one more time and then continues into the kitchen. He returns a minute later with two glasses along with the champagne bottle. He pours them out lazily before handing mine to me.

“To staying.” He toasts to me and I grin.

“To staying.” I respond.

Our glasses clink, we take a few sips, and in another couple of minutes, we are off to the races again.

- - -

I sit patiently next to Kevin watching him scan the last couple pages before he presses the black pen on the line. The back of my knees stick to the leather chair after coming in slightly damp from the humid, July air. I’m wearing a teal and purple, flowery sundress with my hair in a high pony to keep it off my neck. I twirl my wedding rings around my fingers, trying to settle my excitement for a few more moments. Bill Guerin and Kevin’s agent, Craig, are in the room with us. Kevin flips the page, signing the next few spots before pushing the paper over to Craig to review. Relief floods my body at it all being officially official.

“Looks great. Congratulations, Kevin.” Craig extends his hand to him and they share a firm shake. Bill and Kevin shake hands as well.

“We are thrilled to be keeping you in Minnesota.” Bill confirms to him. “Big summer for you two. A wedding and a new contract.” Bill extends his arms out to me.

“And we are building a house!” I cheer, accepting Bill’s hug. “We are happy to be staying here.”

“Us too. Have a great rest of your summer. We will see you in a few months.” Bill waves goodbye as he exits the room, accepting a phone call on his way out.

“I’m off to the airport. Busy month. Congratulations again to you both.” Craig waves and heads out of the room.

When we are alone, Kevin and I dash into each others arms. He squeezes me tight to him and I close my eyes, savoring every detail of this moment.

“I’m so proud of you.” I tell him, breaking our silence. “You earned every piece of this. I can’t wait to watch you keep growing here, where you want to be, with Matty and with an organization that values what you bring to the table.”

“Thank you.” He kisses my temple. “All of my dreams came true because of you. You changed my life, Sam.” I furrow my brows.

“You did the work.”

“Yeah but I didn’t give a shit about the work until I met you. You made me want to be better. I wanted to work on the parts of me that were holding me back from being great. You deserved someone like that.”

“That’s always been you, babe.” I assure him. “You give me too much credit.” He shakes his head no.

“Kev, media in about ten.” Aaron Sickman, PR Director, pops his head in. “Hey Sam.” He waves before he is gone again.

“Okay, I’m going to do this press conference, then I’m yours for the rest of the day.”

“Good deal. Can I come watch?” I ask him. He chuckles.

“Yeah. You want to sit up there with me?”

“No way.” I shake my head quickly. “Just want to hover in the background and watch as you lick your lips after each question, imagining your tongue on me instead.”

“Hey, now.” He warns, eyes dancing along the top of my breasts. “Don’t get me going before I have to do a press conference.”

Mine and Kevin’s phones begin to vibrate incessantly with text messages almost simultaneously. We share a knowing look; the news must be out.

“Another new chapter is beginning,” I say to him as we exit the room, heading down to the press room.

“And just like the rest of them, I think this will be the best one yet.”

With seven more years of security, I agree wholeheartedly with my husband.

[fandom-trash-xl]

Just for reference, who are all of your Frieza Race OCs (if you have multiple)?

I actually do have a decent handful of Frieza Race OCs (though I mainly refer to the species as a whole as Ice Demons or Arcosians in my fics, though I'll refer to them as Frieza's Race just as a general term because everyone has different headcanons for the name). Most of them are female Arcosians and whether or not females exist in the species is debated- personally, my headcanon is wavering a bit in terms of the biology and I may shuffle things but I often needed a defined biological divide for some narrative choices to work in some of my current fic canons.

Anyway, I digress... These are my present OCs in order of creation:

Note, I do consider Kuriza to be half an OC to me since a lot of his character is up to interpretation.

Perma is my oldest Ice Demon OC, dating back to when I still called them "Icejins", though you may see her mentioned in some of my older stuff as Subzero or Zero. She's my Xenoverse CaC and her concept started out as a Frit (Frost x Hit) kiddo! Her design, from what I recall off hand, featured a lot of purple, blue-gray, indigo, etc, basically a color hodge-podge of her two dads. She has the Cooler mask because there wasn't a mouth option I really vibed with, so I just headcanoned it as her allergy mask- she's allergic to dust and you bet there's going to be a lot of that on Time Patrol missions. Later on I may adjust some of her colors if I plan to draw her in full color. Her name's a pun on "permafrost".

As much as I don't want to include him, I have to for the sake of being thorough... Lord Shiver. Shiver sucks. Not saying he's a poorly done OC, he was literally written to be a terrible person. He's Frost's mafia boss father in "Shattered Ice" and he's not really depicted in a good light. He's got blue-gray colorations but I never really plotted out how it looks.

Meanwhile, on the other side of Frost's parentage, we have his mother, Realis. Her name's a pun on "aurora borealis", mainly because my original name concept for Frieza's mother in a fic that never got fully fleshed out was "Aurore" and I wanted the two to match. Essentially, she's part of Shiver's harem (again, reiterating, Shiver was not designed to be a good person), but she gets a bit more elevated privilege on account of being the one gal in the posse "lucky" (read: "unfortunate") enough to be the mother of his child. I think this was the first time I used the idea of little gem "freckles" on the cheeks in my female Arcosian designs (though it started as diamonds and switched to four-pointed stars). She was originally designed with gray scales and cyan gems, though design colorations can change I suppose...

Another one of my big fic OCs is Frigid. I gave Hit a little secretary for his business office and then just sort of ran with it; writing her into the fic was originally to tie into a certain plot point that I won't spoil if you're not caught up on "Shattered Ice", but I enjoy her and I'm surprised I haven't drawn her much. Plus, Hit shipping bonus!! Honestly, I would say more, but she's best experienced within the fic itself. Design-wise, she's got gray scales and turquoise gems.

And then there's also Algid, another one from "Shattered Ice" and another member of Shiver's little posse... She's a bit of a lovesick little yes-woman when it comes to her boss, but she's got some edge to her. Again, description probably isn't doing her much justice, so she's best read in fic. She's got more of a reddish color palette- reason why? I originally intended for her to have a pretty much identically designed Universe 7 parallel that would have been Kuriza's mentioned-only late mother, the red contributing to his maroon gems. I didn't want a good character name and color palette to be wasted completely on a briefly mentioned character- and here we are now, the original U7 Algid not even coming into fruition (totally not because I forgot that part in my notes while writing "Love Like You"...).

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

My Ace Flag & Decepticon Symbol Buttons (2023)

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Credit for Transformers goes to Hasbro & Takara

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[Note: Don’t Reblog Without Permission...] 

[Edit On March 26, 2023: had to edit this....and also replace the word “badges with buttons”.......well I guess they were more like Button-Badges to me....]

I want to say that my plan was to still keep to not posting anything until a few days later, and there is a reason why I decided that, it’s just someone had made me unhappy, it just seem they were doing something on purpose despite me pointing out some important facts.....plus I am going to think over what to do about it, anyway a part of me wants to post a drawing I did of Blitzwing from TFA, that has to do with a Fan Headcanon about him, but maybe I will wait a few more days before I post it.....I think this will be the only post for today, and I will try to keep from posting else until maybe a few days later in this month or until maybe somewhere around April.     

I had to take a picture of the buttons that I had made,

well the Ace Flag Button one, was made on August 25, 2021...

while the Decepticon Symbol Button was made on March 21, 2023...

if I find the right colors, I can try using the colors Lavender/Violet, Light Turquoise, White, Ice Blue and Blue-Gray for the Aroaceflux Flag in Button form.

still not sure if many will even use it though, and I guess it’s fine if it’s just me that ends up using it for now.

so yeah, I drew a Decepticon Symbol on Paper, colored it and put it in a Button.....so that is my Decepticon Button, it might not be 100% perfect.

but it’s like, wanting to support the True Decepticon Cause, and not the whole bad stuff that some Decepticons have done that really has nothing to do with the real cause....

I am starting to think that Rose Quartz and Megatron have more in common than I had originally thought, and Megatron may have been part of the Council but took the form of Megatron or at first a Mech with no name until given the name “Megatron”, and he learned the dark truth, that while the Toxic-Rich that would become Autobots lived with out a care, there were others who are suffering, and it might be weird, but what if it turn out that Megatron was originally a Femme who was named after Solus Prime, like his original name was Solus and even as both Megatron and Solus, he tried to get the Council to listen but they always ignored both Megatron and Solus (who they had no clue were one in the same...) and I guess that is a weird theory, but it be interesting if it turned out to be true.....that would be a big plot twist.          

to take the picture of the two, I had to wear those buttons and then once I got the pictures taken, I started to do some editing and resizing of them a little and removing some parts that had to do with the shirt...

I know that not all Autobots are Bad, but they still have some Bad ones in their ranks, and even clueless ones who offline a Vehicon without a second thought.....yeah we are suppose to see the Autobots as the good guys, but the Autobots aren’t really 100% the good guys, because of their stupid corrupt caste system....

"Decepticons Get It Done, But Crystal Gems Do It Better."

(referencing the song "Brunettes Do It Better" by Kidforce.)

yeah I’m weird enough to view Steven Universe and Transformers having some similarities, at least Steven was able to finally get through to White, Yellow and Blue....

I think I will make a button that has to do with Steven Universe, next.

maybe not right now, but sometime I will...

so the Decepticon Button in this, is like a Honorary Type Thing....

like siding with the Decepticons who are still on the right path and fighting for the true cause, and not the whole conquering or destroying thing...

anyway when I do make some other buttons, I can post them on here sometime.......but it will have to be a long wait, so it can’t be this month.

so yeah in a Fan way, this Defective Earth Angel is becoming a Honorary Decepticon (even if it isn’t canon and is like more fan like.), but still like some of the Good Guy Autobots, but still know that half of the time, it will be the Autobots who will be in the wrong some percent of the time, same as the Decepticons....

anyway this time for sure, this will be it until a few days or so...and this will be the only post for today as well.

and yeah, when I can and if I can find the right color pencils and crayons to use, I will make a Aroaceflux Button that matches the new design I had posted some days ago...  

I’m going to check out some stuff on here while listening to Dark Horse by Katy Perry.  and I will try to keep myself from posting anything else up until a few more days this month or until April...

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

So remember the Shield was broken in the battle in Endgame and while it possible they found all the pieces more likely then not they just used new vibranium to repair it. Also the fact it was made from vibranium in the first place. T'Challa has given this to Cap. So by this point it's Steve Rodgers property, right? Steve gives it to Sam and Sam donates it the Smithsonian with the internet it be displayed in the exhibit of Captain America and the Howling Command. Then the U.S. government just underhandedly takes it. Point is I don't understand how anyone considers Sam taking it from Walker as wrong.

The shield Steve had, that Thanos destroyed, was left behind when Steve went back to return the stones. Remember he didn't take it with him?

I don't know what they did to the damaged one, it's like the pieces of Mjolnir just being left in Norway without a care in the world. That stuff is valuable! I like to think either Sam or Bucky took it and destroyed it or something.

It's anybody's guess where Steve got the new one he gave to Sam, there are many fan theories about it. Personally I like the one that says Steve went to Wakanda in that alternate reality he created, befriended T'Challa and they made one for him. There are other.. uh let's call them... less nicer takes such as he just took the shield from the Steve that was in the ice but that's a little too sadistic for me so I prefer the other one.

As to the property of the shield that one is a little trickier. In CW Natasha says it's government property but in TFATWS we have this quote from Valentina Allegra de Fontaine: "Oh, by the way, don't worry about the shield. I know you don't have it. Here's a little, dirty state secret. It doesn't really belong to the government. It's kind of a legal gray area", so I suppose it's one of those things where the government thinks they own it because nobody has taken the time to read the fine print. Good thing Daredevil is in the MCU now 😁

Whoever gets mad that Sam took it from Walker is being ridiculous, the government took it from Sam and gave it to a white guy who never knew Steve, who didn't know the first thing about what Steve stands for and didn't deserve to lay one damn finger on it - plus, you know, the shield was still stained with blood when Sam recovered it, blood of an innocent and unarmed man Walker had murdered in the middle of the street so... cry me a river, Walker stans.

[unrestedjade]

Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

[artificialqueens]

Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Five (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Denali and Rosé officially enter the arena.

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing comments on the last chapter! It really does mean a lot to me, especially because this one has been a little challenging to write. I'd really appreciate any feedback you have on this chapter!

Denali opens her eyes to gray.

The arena is gray and wet, mist falling over the damp grass, fog curling around tall trees and a massive cliffside. A chill bites at her, but Denali doesn’t mind. She might even have an advantage here. The warmer districts don’t know this cold, wet weather, but Denali knows the cold like an old friend.

Rosé coached her for this part, said to find a bow and whatever she could grab, but not to go in too deep or engage in any fights. After that, her first priority is getting far away and finding water.

Denali repeats it to herself, avoiding how the other tributes tower over her. The gong sounds, and she runs—

“Denali!”

Rosé’s voice brings her back, and the world around her isn’t wet, but grassy, with forest all around. Pine hits her nose, and it reminds her of the hours in the woods back home, her dad showing her which plants were safe to eat. The odds just might be in her favor this year.

Rosé is on her platform a few feet away, and the Cornucopia looms in front of them, an enormous golden horn stuffed with weapons and supplies. The others are spread in a circle around the Cornucopia, waiting for the gong that releases them.

The gong sounds.

“Denali, run!”

Denali doesn’t think twice. Her boots fly over the grass, the other tributes just blurs in her vision. She reaches the Cornucopia seconds before anyone else, and in those seconds, she finds what she needs: a bow and a quiver stuffed with arrows. The quiver is a comforting weight on her back, the bow warm in her hand, and if it wasn’t for her pounding fear she could almost convince herself she’s back home. She grabs a backpack and two knives in another heartbeat before footsteps and shouts erupt.

The tributes have arrived.

Most brush past her, deeper into the Cornucopia, where the best stuff is--weather-proof tents, huge bags of food, medicine. Part of Denali wants to join them, but there are always a lot of deaths at the Cornucopia, and she has what she really needs. She can’t get killed on the first day.

Blood suddenly splatters over Denali’s boots, and she sees the District 7 man hit the grass with a knife in his back. Denali tugs it free and adds it to her weapons, running towards the woods. She can’t see Rosé among the bodies at war with each other, and her heart skips a beat at the thought that something happened to her--

A distinct flash of red comes on her side, and Denali almost crumples in relief. Rosé has a sword and two spears, plus a backpack. And better yet--four full water bottles. Denali doesn’t want to know what she went through for those.

“You good?” she asks Rosé.

Rosé nods. “Let’s get out of here.”

---

They go for hours, switching between walking and jogging, trying to get as far from the Cornucopia as possible. They haven’t run into any dangers yet--no murder-wasps or anything--and Rosé doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. They don’t want to be complacent, and they keep pushing themselves, not even stopping to check their supplies, taking only the smallest sips of water. Rosé’s grateful for all that running with Denali--she probably would have dropped by now without it.

When the sun sets, bathing the arena in a golden light so warm and peaceful it almost makes you forget where you are, they finally stop. They’re in a clearing, and Denali arranges thick bushes and leaves to cover them.

“Let’s see what we have,” Denali says, and they lay out their stuff.

A sword, two spears, a bow, thirty arrows, three knives, four water bottles, a tiny first aid kit, six packs of dried meat, matches, and a sleeping bag.

“Damn, we did good,” Rosé whispers. “I got a freaking plastic tarp and a sword I didn’t know how to use for my first round.” She doesn’t want to get overconfident yet--it’s still day one, after all--but there’s comfort in knowing they have stuff, in not ending the first day so hungry and thirsty it hurts.

Denali nods, splitting up the food, and it’s almost nice in their little hiding spot. If they weren’t in the arena, if they both weren’t constantly looking around for danger, it’s a place Rosé might like to be. Berries even fill the bushes, ripe and juicy-looking.

“You think we can eat those?” Rosé asks. Denali taught her the most common edible leaves and plants when they trained, but Rosé’s never seen berries like these.

Denali almost jumps in the air. “Do not eat those, Rosé. They’re nightlock, they’ll kill you instantly. If we--if we get separated or anything, promise me you’ll remember.”

“Promise,” Rosé says. She’s quiet after that, and it’s because of what Denali said. If we get separated. Rosé’s been with Denali so much lately that she can’t imagine her not being there. She did fine on her own last time, and figured she’d be on her own again this time. But they’ve somehow crawled back into each other’s lives, and Rosé doesn’t want to do this--doesn’t want to be here--alone. The thought of them getting separated, of losing Denali in the arena, is enough to make her sick.

The anthem cuts across the dark sky, and they look up to see the images of the tributes that were killed today. It starts with the man from District 3 and ends with the woman from District 11. Ten dead tributes ticked off on Rosé’s fingers. Pretty high for day one, but not the highest. She knows she should feel something, but she doesn’t. She didn’t even learn their names. It’s easier that way.

“Twelve more left besides us,” Denali says.

“Glad all that math help I gave you paid off,” Rosé teases, and Denali smiles big enough to show her dimples. God, those dimples. Rosé forgot how much she missed them. She grabs the sleeping bag and hands it to Denali. “Get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Wake me in four hours.” Denali slides into it with a white-knuckled grip on her knife and her bow within arm’s reach. She keeps twisting in the bag--Rosé figures she’s right on Denali being afraid to sleep around people--but eventually settles down, exhaustion winning over.

It’s too dark to see much, and quiet enough to hear Denali’s gentle breaths. Rosé doesn’t think any tributes will attack tonight--they’d only be putting themselves in danger attacking in the dark--but she wouldn’t put it past the Gamemakers to spring something. Rosé is sure she keeps hearing noises, every muscle tense in preparation of an attack. The only thing that eases the tension is closing her eyes and listening to Denali breathe. It centers her somehow, helps Rosé figure out what she’s really hearing and what her mind is making up. As long as Denali’s here, as long as she’s breathing, Rosé is okay.

“Denali, wake up,” Rosé says softly after four and a half--she gives Denali some extra rest; she probably won’t know--agonizing hours. She’d tap her shoulder, but something tells her it’s not a good idea. Definitely not, because Denali immediately shoots awake and her knife hits Rosé’s chest. Even with the tip there, Rosé’s reluctantly impressed at how good Denali’s sight and aim are in dim moonlight.

“It’s just me. Rosé.”

Denali inhales sharply, yanking the knife away. “I--Rosé, I--I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Rosé understands. She’d shoved Lagoona after a nightmare once, her brain convinced her sister was a threat.

Rosé crawls into the sleeping bag and feels Denali’s unease seep over her. Besides her family, she never has anyone around when she sleeps. What if something happens? What if they’re attacked before Denali can do anything? What if she has a nightmare in front of Denali? She doesn’t know if they’re on camera, but that won’t look good in front of the Capitol. They want strength and toughness from their tributes. Waking up screaming from a nightmare will only hurt their cause, make them question Rosé’s strength, and she can’t do that.

But she’s tired, really tired. The sleeping bag is surprisingly plush, so thick she can’t even feel the hard ground beneath her. Everything is warm and soft, and though she tries to fight it, she sleeps.

---

The sun wakes Rosé before Denali does.

Day two in the arena, and Rosé resists the urge to burrow back into the sleeping bag and sleep until it’s over.

“I was just about to wake you,” Denali says. She’s ready to go, bag on and weapons in hand, and Rosé thinks Denali gave her some extra rest too, paying back the favor. “There should be a water source nearby,” Denali continues.

Rosé nods and follows, trusting Denali to guide them. Rosé’s world was one of icing and sugar and butter, of kneading dough and sweating in front of hot ovens. But Denali knows forests better than anything, her childhood made of branches and trees and plants. Rosé is amazed at how she keeps track of it all. Those water bottles won’t last forever, and if anyone can find water here, it’s Denali.

They continue through the woods, and again they don’t encounter anything. It has to be deliberate. The Gamemakers want to lure them into a false safety so the danger is that much more frightening when it does come. Rosé doesn’t want to think about what they might send.

She makes a mental map of the arena as they go. The forest seems to be the largest part of it, leading to another large valley, and then the mountain. Not an obviously threatening arena, and again Rosé thinks it was a choice. When faced with tributes who’ve seen so many different arenas with so many different dangers, leave them guessing about what to expect. A basic arena like this could accommodate anything the Gamemakers want to unleash.

But nothing is unleashed the second day, and they trade uneasy sleep shifts.

---

Day three brings the first threat--a group of lizards in bright neon colors that roam down a tree when Denali and Rosé are resting. They're definitely a Capitol hybrid, and Denali isn't sure if they're poisonous, but she doesn't wait to find out. Five arrows, five dead lizards, before they even know what hit them. It's almost comforting, in a way, to have something to fight against for a few seconds. Instead of just wandering the arena and waiting.

They decide to move on in case more lizards come, and see the District 4 tributes crossing the field.

Denali freezes, grip tight on her bow. They're out in the open, and she could get them both before they even hear her arrows whistling by them. Two less tributes to worry about. More odds in their favor. But they're defenseless. No threat at all, just walking along. Denali knows that they'll have to be killed eventually if she wants to win. She just doesn't want to be the one doing the killing. At least not unless they try to kill her first.

She lowers her bow. "Rosé, I don't think I can do it. I'm sorry." She hangs her head, expecting Rosé to tell her she's being stupid, or get mad at her for blowing an opportunity most tributes would literally kill for. What if Denali's lost her nerve? Will she be able to kill when her life really is on the line, when she really has to?

But Rosé just nods. "It's okay."

And they move on.

---

By day four, Denali is on edge. She flinches at every rustle, every snapping of a twig, but they haven't run into anything or anyone since District 4. Two tributes die, cutting it down to ten more besides them. They’re at the halfway point, and that surely means something big is coming. The Gamemakers won’t leave things alone this long, won’t let the tributes stay separated. This suspense, this tension hanging over their heads, while intentional, has to break at some point, to the interest of the viewers and horror of the tributes. Something has to come.

And on day four, it does.

Denali senses the change in the air before the rain comes, reaching her hand up to catch a drop.

It sizzles against her palm.

“Run!” she barks at Rosé, cradling her singed hand to her chest.

Burning rain pelts off their jackets as they tear through the woods. The material offers some protection, but tiny drops make their way over Denali’s hands, on her face, down her back. She hisses against the burning, and Rosé curses beside her as they try to find dryness. In one direction, gusts of wind almost bring Denali to her knees, ruffling her jacket and making the rain pound down, and she glimpses a thick spiral in the distance that she numbly realizes is a tornado. A fucking burning rain-tornado combo. The Gamemakers really want their money’s worth today.

“There,” Rosé pants, and Denali realizes a valley to their left is perfectly clear. They sprint into it, collapsing on the grass, and Denali can’t even look at the blisters on her hands. There’s a plant that helps burns, her father told her, she just has to remember--

“Aloe!” She runs to the leaves. She finds the plant and cuts it with her knife, letting the cool gel soothe her hands and face, sighing in relief. She cuts more and takes it to Rosé, who’s bent over in the grass so no one sees her face screwed up in pain.

“Rosé, it’s okay. I can help.” She places the gel on Rosé’s hands, ignoring the tingle in her arm at the touch.

“Can I do your back?” Denali asks gently, and Rosé only hesitates a second before she nods.

Denali lifts Rosé’s shirt and jacket, letting her hands trace up the hard muscles of her back as she spreads the gel over her blistered skin. She keeps her touch gentle, not wanting to cause more pain, and she knows this has to be on camera and exaggerates her touches, makes herself seem extra caring, even if she hates herself for it.

“Let me do yours now,” Rosé offers.

Denali freezes. For the briefest second, her ankle tightens with the grip of the girl from District 4, but Rosé isn’t her. Rosé is only trying to help, not hurt, and Denali nods, even if she hasn’t asked for help in years. It would blow their cover if she refuses anyway. She holds her breath as Rosé moves her shirt, not letting herself tremble or show pain in front of the Capitol.

“I’m gonna put it on now,” Rosé says. Denali sighs when the gel hits, grinning when Rosé scolds her to stay still. She hasn’t had someone care for her like this since her mother died. In seconds, the pain is gone, and they watch the rain. Denali wonders how long they’ll be trapped here. Not to mention that finding aloe seems too good to be true. Too suspicious.

“Some rain, huh?” Rosé mutters.

“Don’t forget the tornado,” Denali laughs bitterly.

“Wait.” Rosé stills, ear toward the rain. “Do you hear something?”

Denali doesn’t hear anything before five tributes sprint into the clearing. The storm was clearly meant to send them into one dry spot, and even with the burns, a windswept tribute from District 1--Denali thinks his name is Castor--launches himself at her with a sword. It’s too late to string her bow, and he’s too close--but Rosé jumps in front of her, the sword cutting across her leg as she swings her own sword at him. Metal clangs as they go at it, and Denali can’t even process that Rosé just saved her life before the woman from District 4 comes at her. Denali grabs a spear that Rosé dropped and blocks the woman’s arm, sinking the point into her chest a second later. The woman hits the grass, and cannon fire joins the noises of battle.

“On your left, Fox!” someone yells. The voice is too deep to be Rosé, and Denali realizes it’s Finn from District 4, currently locked in battle with the man from District 8. She barely has time to thank him before the woman from District 1 pounces at Denali, nails clawing at her neck. Denali blocks her just in time. The world is sweat and blood and heaving breaths, and Denali just hopes Rosé is still alive.

The fight ends as suddenly as it started, when Denali stabs the woman and looks around and realizes the rain has stopped, and there’s no one left to fight. The man from District 8 escaped into the woods, but the clearing is littered with dead tributes from Districts 1 and 4. Her bloody hands still grip the spear, just in case. Her arm is trickling blood, and her neck stings with scratches from the woman grabbing at her, but she’ll survive. She hardly feels it, hardly feels anything, really, as she looks around. And Rosé--Rosé is still standing, thank God, limping over to Denali. The gash on her leg is huge, soaking her pants with blood, but she’s alive, and Denali’s knees almost buckle in relief.

“Are you okay?” Denali asks. “We gotta get out of here, then we can bandage your leg.”

Before Rosé can speak, a wheeze sounds from the ground, and they dart toward the noise. It’s Finn, clinging to whatever life he has left. The man from District 8 must’ve got him. As she looks at him lying there, golden hair stained red, she finds the numbness fading into emptiness, emptiness that swallows her heart. Sparing his life yesterday had been for nothing. But deep down she knew it would be. There's no escaping the fate of the arena. He had been kind, had offered her an alliance she barely considered, had warned her of an attack even when she killed his fellow tribute. And now he’s dying. Would things have been different with an alliance? Would they have protected each other? Would he have become a friend that she would inevitably lose? He was going to have a baby, she remembers, but hearing it in the training room and remembering it now are two different things, and she wishes she didn’t remember. She understands why Rosé avoided the other tributes and didn't talk to them, why she tries to avoid the Games entirely.

“You said he was having a kid,” Rosé says quietly. Her normally wary eyes seem sad.

It’s not a question, but Denali nods anyway.

Finn wheezes again, letting out a hoarse please. Please what, Denali has no idea, and watches in confusion as Rosé approaches him. She can’t mean to kill him--he’s good as dead. Instead she crouches down, takes his hand, and begins to hum something. It’s a simple melody, one that sounds like a lullaby. Denali understands--Rosé can’t help him, no one can, but at least he won’t be alone. Denali kneels with her and just listens, goosebumps on her arms, and pretends she’s somewhere else. Somewhere she never had to do this. Somewhere the two women she killed today never attacked her in the first place.

The cannon sounds, and they leave the clearing in silence.

---

They don’t talk again until that night.

They bandage each other up and eat some fruit Denali found as they walked, lost in their own minds. Rosé’s eyes finally lose that far-off look as she eats, though she keeps turning her apple over and over like she’s never seen one.

Denali doesn’t know what to say. The cold side of her has already calculated that six other tributes remain--both from District 2, both from District 8, the woman from 7, and the man from 9. But how can she focus on who’s left after this afternoon?

They both jump when two parachutes appear.

The first contains a medicated cream, one that instantly starts healing their burns and soothes any remaining pain. The second is a platter of bread and fish, clearly from District 4, the fishing district, and Denali knows it’s because of what Rosé did for Finn. She swallows the lump in her throat, resenting the part of her that’s so hungry it wants to grab the food and shove it down without a thought. Another part of her doesn’t want to eat it at all, doesn’t want this reward when there’s blood on her hands. They don’t deserve this. They weren’t even friends with him, didn’t do anything to help. But Rosé made his last moments easier, and maybe that counts for something.

“I almost don’t want to eat it,” Rosé whispers, and Denali knows she feels the same way.

“I know. But I think it’s disrespectful not to,” Denali says.

Rosé nods. She turns her head, because there’s clearly a camera on them, and thanks District 4 for their gift. They split the food and eat slowly, savoring each bite.

The silence continues until the anthem ends, and Rosé nudges the sleeping bag toward her.

“I don’t really feel like sleeping,” Denali admits.

“Me neither. Nightmares are a bitch.”

Denali had long assumed Rosé had nightmares, given that the lights in her house are on almost any time Denali wakes up in the night. Denali’s not worried so much about dreams--it’s more that she’s sure she won’t be able to sleep and will just be lying in the sleeping bag with nothing to do but think of today’s deaths, or how Rosé protected her. Denali’s come to rely on her, to enjoy her company, and today just proved how close she is to losing Rosé and doing this on her own.

“Things seem...different now,” Denali says.

“It feels more real,” Rosé says simply, because she understands.

Denali nods. “We left while everyone fought at the Cornucopia. We didn’t see the other deaths. But this time...”

There’s a difference between watching someone die and killing them yourself, and it’s a difference only a few people fully understand.

“We did what we had to,” Rosé says quietly.

Denali nods, because it is true. She never wants to kill just to kill, only when she has to in order to live. And being in the arena again makes her realize how much she wants to live. She wants to go home and and watch the sunrise each morning instead of just ignoring it on her runs. She wants to invite Kandy and Kahmora over for dinner, and talk to Jan and Lagoona again, wants so many people in her house that she’ll need a whole new set of coffee mugs. And she really wants Rosé to be part of it. Maybe she can. Somehow.

Denali doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, and she can tell Rosé doesn’t either, from how she’s picking at her sword.

“I--I’m glad we both made it,” Denali says. “I’m glad I’m here with you. Thanks, by the way. For saving me back there.” Her subconscious knows it's a good thing to say strategy-wise, to prove the romance, but she really means it. She’s used to fighting tooth and nail for what she wants, not anyone helping her or protecting her. She didn’t have an older sister running to the stage to save her from the Games, didn’t have an alliance in the arena last time. She really is grateful for Rosé.

“So am I,” Rosé says sincerely. “And you don’t have to thank me. We look out for each other, okay?”

“Yeah. What was that thing you were humming?” Denali asks before she can stop herself.

Rosé looks down at her lap. A shaft of moonlight falls over her face and bathes her in silver, and Denali’s heart skips a beat. “It’s a lullaby my mom used to sing us. I don’t actually know all of it. We were usually asleep before she finished. But I never forgot the melody.”

“Oh.” Denali’s mother wasn’t one for singing. She told stories instead, old fairy tales of princesses and knights that Denali used to fight sleep to hear the end of. Sometimes her father would join in, and when he died, Denali lost not one but two storytellers. Her mother became a half-finished story after losing him, one that ended abruptly eleven years ago. Denali’s hand goes to her necklace, but she meets empty space.

No. No no no--

“What’s wrong?” Rosé asks.

Denali hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud. She doesn’t answer, instead digging through their bags while her heart pounds. She’s making too much noise as throws aside knives and food packets, but she doesn’t care because it’s gone--

“Denali,” Rosé says, and her calm voice breaks through. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom's necklace. It’s gone. I must’ve lost it in the fight.” Denali remembers the woman from District 1 clawing at her neck. She must have torn off the necklace in her struggle, and Denali didn’t notice among the chaos. Now it’s gone and she’ll never get it back, when she has so little of her mother at all, and she angrily forces back the tears stinging in her eyes. She won’t cry. Not in this arena.

“I’m sorry. It's your mom's, right?” Rosé asks quietly, and Denali nods. “Tomorrow we can go look for it. It could still be in the clearing.”

Denali knows it’s a long shot, but the mere offer—an offer to go back into danger for something that’s not physically necessary—stirs something in her chest. It’s more kindness than she’s been offered in years, more kindness offered without any reward expected, just like Rosé sneaking cookies into her bag, and it’s too much to take. She mumbles a thank you and crawls into the sleeping bag, explaining that she’s tired after all. It’s an excuse to not look at Rosé, at the concern in her eyes, because Denali can’t bear it. No one has looked at her like that in years. She feels too exposed, just like at the interview, and looking at Rosé is impossible when every part of her is raw and laid bare.

Surprisingly, sleep comes easy, and it brings not nightmares, but dreams of Rosé.

---

The sound of trumpets wake Rosé the next morning, after a restless sleep of tossing and turning. Her leg felt like it was on fire, and sweat ran down her neck all night even though it was cool outside. Her head kept swimming with images of the fight, but what really kept her awake was her confusion over Denali. Why couldn’t she look at Rosé, and why did she throw herself in the sleeping bag minutes after saying she didn’t want to sleep? Maybe it was the stress of losing the necklace. Maybe she wanted to hide in the sleeping bag so no one saw her cry. The necklace is obviously a touchy subject for Denali, and she’s probably just stressed. They both are. Rosé won’t pry.

She sits up and rubs her eyes with a groan. “What’s with the trumpets?”

Denali shrugs, seeming back to normal. “Must be an announcement. Maybe because there’s only eight of us left? We’re at the last third.”

Rosé can’t believe sixteen people have died, that they’re already at the final eight. It feels like ages and yet like no time at all has passed.

“After we win this, I should be a math teacher,” Rosé says, heart lightening when Denali smiles. Announcements are usually done to bring tributes together for a big bloodbath. Though the rain accomplished that yesterday. Maybe this is something different.

Rosé listens as the announcer explains an unprecedented rule change. In light of three full teams remaining, the most ever at the eight-tribute-mark, both tributes from the same district will be winners if they are the last two alive.

“Does that mean…”

“It does,” Rosé answers. If she and Denali are the last two standing, they’ll both win.

“We can do this. We can really do this.” Denali leaps to her feet, all the sorrow from last night gone. Rosé hesitates, a dark part of her wondering if there’s a catch, or if this is a trick. But they can’t just announce something like this and take it back, not when the audience will expect a team victory. Not when the audience will expect a District 12 team victory, because the parachutes last night just prove that they’ve succeeded, that their love has won over the crowd. They can win this, and the audience is rooting for them.

Rosé nods. “Let’s move, before they send more rain.” She hauls herself up, but a sudden pain explodes in her leg. The world spins around her, blackness closing in on her vision. She hears Denali saying her name but she can’t answer, can’t do anything but close her eyes and let the darkness take her.

[jtsfavslut]

Winter Wonderland [GD]

Dolanmas Day Two

Winter Wonderland - Michael Buble

Description: Grayson takes Y/N skating in New York,  everything is perfect, even if things don't go according to plan. 

Warnings: nothing but nice, sweet things!!!

Word Count: 2.3K+

Christmas in the city was one of Y/N's top priorities on her mental bucket list. One that Grayson had memorized like it was his ABC's. This Christmas he wanted to make sure that instead of a fantasy, it became her reality. When she found out what they would be doing for Christmas, she couldn't help but let a few happy tears out, feeling so excited and loved by Grayson. She thought of how he went out of his way to make one of her fantasies come true, even if it was for a silly holiday.

"Are you ready babe?" he asked and she nodded her head. Grayson decided to visit his mom on the way, staying at her house for a few days, spending some time in New York, then going back to his mom's house for Christmas.

Y/N, couldn't help but feel ecstatic, spending time with the people she valued so much while having her wish come true, all because of him.

The train ride to New York was only an hour, but it felt like hours to her, "I'm so excited," she gushed and he smiled, seeing her happy made him happy. She watched as people walked in and out of the train station, holding back a squeal as they made their way out of the station and into the city.

The large buildings covered in snow made her heart content. The way the snow slowly fell from the sky making her body feel warm, even if it was below 30 degrees.

"Baby, so I found three things to do," he began speaking and she nodded her head, "We're gonna have to wait until it's dark out for two of them, but we can start going to the first one now, it's a 20 minute walk, or do you wanna take the train?"

"We can walk if you want, I kinda want to look around if that's cool with you," she replied and he nodded his head.

Y/N has obviously been to New York before, plenty of times actually. But never during the Holiday season, as they walked around she admired everything. Taking everything in, stopping at a few places to grab a drink and take pictures of each other, until they finally reached their destination, making her jaw drop and her heart to fill with nothing but love and happiness,

"Grayson, no you didn't," she spoke before pulling him into a hug, causing a chuckle to fall past his lips.

"Sure did babe," he smiled. He took her to a Winter Village he found while doing his 'research', and knowing she was going to love it, he added it to the things he wanted to do that weekend.

When Y/N found herself in the famous Winter Village in Bryant Park, she didn't know where to exactly look, finding something more interesting with every step they took.

"Gray, oh my God look, it's a little nutcracker," she gushed pointing to one of the little kiosks that were selling hand-carved and painted nutcrackers, the ones that Grayson loves so much.

"Which one babe?" he chuckled and followed her to the table, the old man that was selling them, telling them a story about how he started making them and whatnot.

"Gray, this one looks like you," she pointed to one and he shook his head with a smile.

"And this one looks like you," he replied, picking up a ballerina one that had similar facial features to hers.

"Oh God, if only I was a ballerina," she chuckled as the man watched the pair in adoration.

"You really love each other don't you?" he asked with a smile, causing the couple to blush.

"Yeah," they spoke in unison, smiling at each other before looking back at the man.

"We'll take these two," Y/N smiled and he nodded his head, bending down to get a paper bag and some stuffing paper from a bucket underneath the table, before taking the medium-sized figures from their hands and carefully placing them in the back, exchanging it with the $20 bill Y/N handed him before Grayson could.

"Have a great Christmas you guys, take care," he waved them off before they walked away.

"What do you say and we come back in a few years and get mini ones," he smiled, making her stop on her tracks.

"Like babies?"

"Yeah like babies, we already have us, now we just need the kids we're having," he said and she smiled nodding her head.

"I'd like that," she smiled, grabbing his hand and walking away to the other little shops.

"Babe, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," she spoke and he nodded his head, she walked away into the woman's bathroom, while Grayson looked around, trying to find something to surprise her with.

His attention was immediately caught by a table filled with all kinds of snow globes, and little souvenirs, he walked towards it, noticing a middle aged couple putting out some more.

"Hi, sweetie! What can I help you with?" the woman asked with a smile and the man continued to organize the stuff.

"Hi, I'm looking for something to surprise my girlfriend with," he smiled and she nodded her head.

"And what kind of stuff is she into?"

"Well, she always wanted to spend the holidays here, so maybe something with all the buildings and stuff,' he replied and her face filled with excitement.

"John, give me the one," she spoke, emphasizing the 'one' making Grayson question what she meant by the one.

His question was answered when John handed the woman a snow globe, a small version of the city covered in snow was captured in the globe, frozen in time. Just how he wanted these moments with her to be. Frozen and untouched.

He purchased the globe, quickly sliding it in his pocket and making his way towards Y/N who walked out of the restrooms just as he put it away, "Find anything?"

"Nah, I just waited for you," he replied, and she nodded her head before looking around.

They spent about two hours having fun, spending, and eating.

Everyone felt content, and Grayson's plan was working on his end, everything happening just like he planned it.

"Where to next?" she asked taking a sip of the hot chocolate she bought at one of the stands, the heat warning her body so perfectly.

"You'll see," he replied, not giving her the answer she wanted, making her playfully roll her eyes as he grabbed her hand and walked towards their next place.

"Gray, Gray, I'm gonna fall," she slightly shouted as nervous giggles fell past her lips.

Y/N's dream was to go skating, and Grayson took her skating…..there was just one tiny little problem. Neither she nor Grayson knew how to skate.

Leaving them stumbling in the middle of Rockefeller Center as others zoomed past them.

"Why does my dream include something that we have no idea how to do," she laughed as her arms tightly clutched onto Grayson's, who was a little more stable than her.

"I'm not sure, but here we are," he smiled at the way she was doing everything. The way she nervously held on to him, the way she turned her head to look behind her, or the way she would shake up every time someone passed them.

"Thank you for bringing me here Gray," she spoke after she had finally gotten the catch, she wasn't perfect at it, but more stable and they hadn't fallen yet which was enough for her to consider it an achievement.

"I'd do anything for you," Grayson whispered, making a rush of blood reach up to her cheeks, the red tint mixing with the cold.

"I'd do anything for you too, and more," she replied as they went around the rink.

"Not possible,"

"Yes, it is," she laughed, shaking her head as they accidentally bumped on the edge.

"How bout' we stop here before we fall?" Grayson asked and she nodded her head. They quickly left the rink and changed back into their shoes before walking around the place.

"This tree is so big, my God," she whispered, tilting her head up to look at the entire Christmas tree.

"Honestly, I don't even know where they get it from," Grayson replied, making her laugh.

"Well obviously from a tree farm dummy, they grow it and donate it," she said, still looking at it, the reflection of the lights in her eyes making them sparkle.

"Not that! I mean like how do they get it to be so big," he spoke making her shrug.

"That my love, I have absolutely no idea," she sighed, turning around to face him, "why are you so perfect?"

"Y/N, babe, I am far from perfect, you, however? You are everything I always wanted and wished for," he spoke so truthfully, no doubt could be found within his voice.

After Grayson's big failure at his desperate, and rushed attempt to find his soulmate, he gave up and lost all hope.

That was until Y/N came along, He fell fast, ignoring all of Ethan's warnings. He then took some time to himself, remembering that he told himself he wasn't going to rush into things, but he couldn't get away from her, so he just let it happen.

Now they were here, a normal relationship, everything Grayson always wanted, and something it took time to get used to.

He was used to the typically rushed hookups, his fucks, and dumps, but with Y/N around, he didn't feel the need for any of that, he was happy and content.

"Babe, that's all you. You're everything to me," she spoke as her cheeks blushed, a calm and happy smile on her lips as her heart raced with nothing but love and adoration.

Everything was going perfectly, they walked for a couple of minutes until Grayson tripped, earning them a trip to the ER.

According to him, the ice moved when it saw him, "Gray, please it's okay. I had all the fun I needed," Y/N reassured an upset and pouting Grayson, who felt bad for ruining her little getaway.

"But still, we should've been-," he began to apologize before she cut him off by placing her hand over his mouth.

"Grayson no. Your ankle is more important to me than some Christmas lights," she replied, handing him a bottle of water, and holding his hands, "I love you,"  

"I love you more," he replied, bringing her hand up to his lips, placing a quick kiss on it. 

“Plus, this is fun! We get to have a little sleepover, sounds fun right?” She asked, trying to make the best of the tragic situation. 

“Everything’s fun when I’m with you,” he replied with a smile as she shook her head blushing. 

“We could watch some movies, I can go buy some food and come back. I think I saw a pastry shop on the way here,” she spoke with a smile, letting go of Grayson’s hand to grab her purse, “I’m gonna look around and see what I find, okay? Don’t do anything stupid,” 

“I won't. Be careful, yeah? And call me when you get there, please,” he spoke before she leaned down, giving him a quick kiss before walking away. 

“I promise, see you later,”

It took Y/N, five minutes to find the pastry shop, and around 30 minutes to find what she needed for her spontaneous sleepover with Grayson. Y/N being Y/N obviously got carried away and spent more than an hour as an anxious Grayson laid hopelessly on a hospital bed, his nerves suddenly waving off as his precious angel walked through the door with her arms full with a couple of bags. 

“I’m back! Now, scoot over and I’ll show you what I bought,” 

[peaches-writes]

how to appease your asian aunties ch. 3 - spring break

* icym: this was prev. a guide to social gatherings but i changed the title bc i still think i’m funny that way

description: in the immortal words of blood-related aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at reunion parties, “do you have a boyfriend?”  member: jisung / han  genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns)  word count: 5.4k chapter warning: food, a conversation calling out toxic asian family culture oops note: i’m not confident with this one bc i had to re-write this two times (?) with diff. plot directions + srsly idk what happened here what was the point am i ok + i didn’t post this accidentally this time !!!! 

ch. 1 // ch. 2 //  series masterlist

After seeing you and Jisung interact during your trip to the mall, your mom has started loving this new idea of you dating one of her close friends’ sons so much that she has not-so-discreetly started conspiring with Mrs. Han in order to see the two of you together as much as possible. From invitations for snacks and drinks at one’s house every day after school to whole-day activities on the weekends (usually to the mall or the cinema), it didn’t take long before you and your own best friend put two and two together and conclude that your respective moms have somewhat developed an auntie type of obsession over your fake relationship. 

This idea that your moms would love you and Jisung together so much to this extent initially flew past your head when you started this fake relationship last Christmas. You were only thinking of casually fake dating your best friend, after all; such arrangement ideally confined only in social gatherings where invasive relatives and family friends ask about your love life endlessly. You genuinely did not expect that that Jisung would start tagging along to you and your parents’ Sunday movie dates and side with your dad every time you disagree on your selected movie’s ending; or that you would not be parting ways with Jisung after school anymore when you reach your house and he has to drive another block to get to his.

But for the most part, you’ve decided as the weeks fly by with this new added twist in your everyday, it’s fun and, even at times, cute. Though Mrs. Han dotes on you more now, like you’re her own child, and your mom is starting to be more talkative around Jisung since they now have you to talk about, you still get to eat snacks either your mom or Mrs. Han made, hog the extraordinarily fast wifi at Jisung’s house, and get free movie tickets and shopping bags from when you’re going out with the other’s family on the weekends. Plus, it’s made your workaholic mom come home earlier just to see you and Jisung lounging in your living room and Mrs. Han’s worries lessen now that Jisung’s busy with something else that isn’t academics or whatever it is he does with his Bumble and Tinder apps. 

At times, it’s tiring having to hang out with your best friend under the guise of a couple, especially when you didn’t really plan for it to be this way, but you can’t deny that there are perks to it. 

So, you wait more patiently for Jisung every day after your classes now even when he usually takes a lot of detours to see his friends before driving over to you on the other side of campus. You still hang out with your friends, Ryujin and Chaeryeong, after classes, of course, but you part ways with them just a little bit earlier now to anticipate Jisung’s Convertible pulling up in front of your building and unnecessarily yelling at you to get in even when he’s the one awfully late. 

Because if you were to choose between your other best friends and a free expensive snacks, you’d always choose the latter without fail. 

“You know,” Chaeryeong comments next to you on this particular Friday, stretching her legs down to the steps below you three while you scroll through your phone and Ryujin naps on your shoulder with her earphones still plugged in. “if I didn’t know that you’re ditching us earlier for free fake dating food, I would’ve thought that you and squirrel boy were seriously dating.” 

“You always think we’re dating either way.” You roll your eyes, not even sparing a glance at the smug grin on her features. “Anyway, aren’t you happy we’re ‘dating’ now? It’s what you’ve always hoped for but, you know, fake.” 

Only then do you turn to Chaeryeong over your shoulder, also scrolling through her social media on her phone. She meets your gaze after with a scrunched up nose and furrowed eyebrows. “Hm,” She pretends to contemplate, placing her index finger up to her chin. “I don’t know. I think I’ll have to wait until someone caves and you actually develop feelings for each other—like in books!” 

“Seriously?” You deadpan with pursed lips, only making her laugh. “Of all things you could bring up.”

Chaeryeong shrugs in response with a knowing smile, chuckling when your expression doesn’t change. “You never know!” She replies in her defense, laughing all the way. “You did say after break that you’re just going to fake date if there’s an event but it’s Spring Break tomorrow already and you’ve been fake dating every day since classes started again.” 

“Sounds like a romantic trope to me.” She comments last teasingly before you can even interject, swiftly dodging your hand when you reach up to try and smack her. Literature majors, really. 

“For one, I don’t want to date Jisung, I’ve seen enough of him my whole life for that and I don’t think I’m in the mood to date in general. And besides, we’re only a ‘couple’ at home when someone’s mom is watching.” You counter as you retract your free hand back to your side, alternating your gaze between her and your other hand with your phone. Jisung’s last message is that of him informing you that he’s making a quick stop at the International Relations department today to hand Hyunjin his books ten minutes ago. Knowing him, if he didn’t get lost or got distracted by a kiosk selling coffee, he’s probably on his way now. “And you know I love free stuff, it just happens to come only if I hang out with Jisung these days.” 

“So what happens when you ‘break up’? And I don’t mean the cute perks from the aunties.” Chaeryeong asks next, leaning back on her propped elbows now that the stairs going up to your college building have started to cool down from being exposed to the sun the entire day. “I mean, it’s back to normal for us as your friends—I do miss not having to remind my parents that you’re a couple now—but your moms are going to think it’s weird that you suddenly broke up and went back to being friends like nothing happened.” 

“I already told you and everyone else, we’ll think about that when it happens.” You shrug both at her and the nagging thought in your mind that she has a point.   

“And when exactly will that happen?” She prods on, smiling smugly at knowing that you and Jisung never talked about this certain part of your current predicament clearly. “‘Dating until everyone doesn’t think of Jisung as a fuckboy or when aunties stop offering blind dates’ sounds vague to me.”

You see Chaeryeong’s smile grow bigger when you don’t answer immediately, accidentally letting time pass until Jisung’s gray Convertible pulls up steps below you with an obnoxious honk. 

“Y/N, my mom bought gelato today!” Jisung yells at you from his roofless car, his radio blasting Bermuda Triangle at an embarrassingly loud volume. “Let’s go!” 

You then quickly shake Ryujin awake in response, gently moving her to Chaeryeong’s legs when her eyes open, before standing up and waving goodbye at your two friends. “Like I said, I’ll let you know when it happens.” You hurriedly conclude your conversation with Chaeryeong with a triumphant smile, making her roll her eyes. “See you after the break!” 

Chaeryeong only shakes her head in disbelief, easily letting you go from her interrogation with a wave goodbye. “You be careful now, hm? Have fun with your ice cream, then!” 

You chuckle as you run down the stairs, waving your hand up for her as you move away without sparing a last glance. “Don’t worry, I’ll take pictures!” At this, you open the front passenger seat to Jisung’s car and smoothly slide in, haphazardly discarding your backpack next to his at the back before closing the door next to you. “Hey, ugly. Glad you didn’t get lost on campus.”

“Speak for yourself, ugly.” Jisung teases back, shifting the car’s gear back to ‘Drive.’ “How was your day? You three look so bored out of your mind there.”

"Better now that we’re going to eat ice cream at home.” You put your seatbelt on as Jisung now drives the car home, reaching over to the radio in between the two of you after and lowering the volume. “Classes were tiring as usual. What flavors did auntie get, by the way?”

Jisung almost makes the wrong turn with your choice of words, quickly gathering his thoughts and shaking his head. “Fu—u-um, Ferrero, strawberry, and mint choco, that’s what she texted me.” He shrugs, making the correct turn to the nearest campus gate this time. 

From the corner of his eyes, you nod with a hum as you sink back in your seat, completely missing the way you unconsciously caught him off-guard even with the screech of the car tires. “Oh, cool—no pun intended there.” You chuckle to yourself, leaning to the opposite side now to watch the college buildings pass by. “We’re watching The Conjuring 2, right?”

“Yeah.” Jisung scoffs, brushing off what remains of his sudden nervous feeling with the comment. “Tch, cool.” 

Like every Wednesday and Friday that Mrs. Han prepares you after school snacks and drinks, you and Jisung go through tubs of ice cream and tumblers of water while a horror film is projected on the television of the Han’s ground floor living room. Mrs. Han, who has her office day off on Fridays, would occasionally drop by and either ask if the two of you need anything or comment on her distaste for horror under her breath. 

“Oh, oh, dear.” She clutches her pearls dramatically, much like her son would, as she passes by for the sixth time to go to the kitchen and catches another glimpse of The Conjuring in the process. She then turns to you and Jisung after to calm her nerves, catching you still sprawled across the sofa with your legs lazily piled on top of Jisung’s.

Of course she’s seen you in the same position before in the few times you came over as one of Jisung’s friends but the sight now seems different under the guise that you and her son are a couple. Typical mom. 

“Hi, auntie!” You greet her when you catch her from the corner of your eye also for the sixth time, waving your empty spoon in greeting with one hand while the other blindly reaches for Jisung’s laptop on the coffee table to pause the movie. Jisung hides his face under a throw pillow at this, already having enough of his mom snooping around for today and you giving her the time of day. Since when did you get comfy with his mom, anyway? “Do you need anything?”

Mrs. Han immediately shakes her head with a dismissive wave and smile. “Ah, nothing, I was just checking up on you two!” She clarifies again. “Do you need anything? Extra pillows? More water?” 

You shake your head politely, holding up the water tumblers on your other side reassuringly. “We’re good but thank you!” 

At this, Mrs. Han clasps her hands together in satisfaction. “Alright, if you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen, then!” She concludes, taking a step back from the door frame. “You’re staying for dinner, right, Y/N?” 

You glance over at Jisung, prying the throw pillow away from his face enough to see him shaking his head and making you feign a teasing frown for his mom. “You don’t want me to stay over dinner, babe?” You taunt with a smile, chuckling when he pushes the pillow back onto his face. Turning to Mrs. Han, you add, “I think Sung doesn’t want me staying for dinner, auntie, but I’ll gladly stay over if you want me to; anyway, my parents are coming home late today.” 

“What? Oh, he’s just being shy!” Mrs. Han dismisses with another wave of her hand. “Please do stay for dinner. I’ll text your mom for you too.” 

“Alright, if you say so.” You nod, giving her your sweetest smile now. “Thank you so much!”  

With that, Mrs. Han then bids you goodbye and proceeds to the kitchen. When the sound of her stilettos fades outside the living room, Jisung removes the throw pillow in front of his face with a groan, scooting closer to you until his shoulders bumped into yours. “My mom, seriously.” He then smacks you on the shoulder with the throw pillow as you press ‘play’ on his laptop again. “Ya, are you seriously dining with us tonight?” 

You kick his legs under yours in response. “I think it’s cute, it’s not like she caught us doing something weird.” You shrug in his mom’s defense. “And yes, I’m staying over because your mom is clearly cooking tonight and I can’t say no to an offer and free food.” 

“I’ll have to get back at you when we’re back at your house on Monday.” He counters back, shamelessly dipping his spoon on the mint chocolate ice cream in your hands. As he bites on the small chocolate drops on the ice cream, a thought then crosses his mind and he asks, “Wait, are we still hanging out on Spring Break?” 

You turn to him, swatting his hand belatedly before taking a big chunk of his strawberry ice cream. “I don’t know, my mom hasn’t mentioned anything and I don’t think my parents have any plans of going on vacation this break.” You answer truthfully before eating the spoonful of ice cream. “What about auntie?” 

“Nothing from her too.” He shakes his head. “Though we’re definitely going on vacation this Break—my dad really wants to check out the new Jeju hotel.” 

“When are you coming home?” 

“Friday night, I think? We leave on Sunday.” He answers, taking a sip of water now that the taste of ice cream is now making his mouth feel sticky. He takes note of how you used the same word again, recovering quicker this time before he could even choke. “So we’re definitely not hanging out on those days.” 

You hum against another spoonful of ice cream, this time from the Ferrero ice cream in the small gap between the two of you. “I mean, it’d be nice to be away from you for once—we’ve literally been joined to the hip after classes and most weekends since the New Year—but that would mean no free food which would be a shame; I really like your mom’s cooking.” 

“Ouch, I didn’t know you don’t like spending more time with me just for me.” He clutches his chest dramatically, hugging the throw pillow again. “I thought you’d like this since I was away for a year.” 

“We barely hung out before you even left.” You chuckle in amusement, grabbing the pillow from him again and this time lazily discarding it to the other end of the sofa. “I already thought you’re annoying the rare times we hung out before. Now, you’re just the bane of my existence.” 

Next to you, Jisung laughs along belatedly, holding his ice cream tub away when you try and take another spoonful of strawberry from him. “Yeah but I’m the bane of your existence that you’re ‘dating’ in front of the aunties for free stuff and them leaving you alone.” He points out, giving in to you after when you almost topple over the Ferrero ice cream and handing you his strawberry ice cream. “So you can’t really complain.” 

You roll your eyes as you exchange tubs of ice cream. In front of you, a jump scare goes unnoticed as you pay more attention to Jisung anticipating what your next words would be. “I’m grateful,” You clarify in a mumble as you chew on the ice cream. “But you’re still annoying as hell.” 

“Not like you’re any better.” He rolls his eyes with another playful laugh, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, I think we shouldn’t hang out on Spring Break: we’re going to ‘break up’ if we keep meeting too much at this point.” 

This time, it’s you who gets another thought at this comment. Shifting in your seat as well so you’re now facing Jisung, you ask in a change of topic, “Right, I meant to ask: when exactly are we ‘breaking up’?” You raise an eyebrow at him when his eyes widen in confusion. “It’s just that Chaeryeong and I were talking about it a while back and it had me thinking.”

“Hm? I thought we’ll do it a little after Chan and Miyoung’s wedding.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “There aren’t many events after that and I’m sure the aunties won’t bother you for a while since you’ll start working.” 

“And if they do?” You ask back curiously. “Starting work at your own parents’ company while going through a ‘break-up’ doesn’t exactly guarantee a free pass from blind dates—remember the last time Yeji had a relationship the aunties knew about?” 

“Right, that was quite chaotic.” Jisung replies, keeping his spoon in his mouth now instead of eating more ice cream as the unexpected question actually catches him off-guard. “But, I don’t know. I guess we can keep going a little longer after the wedding, until the aunties have someone else to bother or, you know—if you end up liking someone else.” 

You then catch Jisung’s eyes light up at this idea and you hear him quickly add, “Hey, how about that?” He then removes the spoon from his mouth, placing his ice cream down in between the two of you. “You don’t have to worry about your elders and we don’t have to fake date anymore.” 

“Actual dating?” You furrow your eyebrows. Jisung nods at this. “You know how I feel about that. I don’t think I want that for myself right now given the changes that are going to happen after we graduate.” You wave your hands around now, setting your ice cream and spoon down before sinking back in your seat. “And I especially don’t want that just for the sake of getting people to mind their own business; it’d be like giving in to the pressure in a way.” 

You glance over at Jisung to see him nodding thoughtfully now, an unfamiliar look crossing his features before he meets your gaze and comments, “Okay, that’s fair—but we both know it’d be too troublesome to fake date for a long time.” He then sighs, sinking into his own spot and leveling with your gaze.

Suddenly, you feel a shift in the air around you as Jisung sets his ice cream down on his other side. “Aish, don’t you just wish you can talk back to older people?”

“Yeah.” You nod in agreement this time, pursing your lips. The air suddenly felt sincere now, a bit comical since the people keep screaming on the television in front of you but, for some reason, you don’t feel like laughing because Jisung isn’t despite obviously having the same thoughts. “I mean, we all know that the talks about dating and career and everything else are often in good-nature but a lot of times they’re just invasive and a bit rude.” 

When Jisung doesn’t reply as quickly, you nudge his shoulder and add, “I especially think of the time you told some of the parents during Yeji’s birthday about your plans to study in Malaysia and how negatively they received it because they think you won’t graduate on time and that you should just finish college quickly and work.” Jisung’s eyes widen in surprise this time. “They don’t know how hard you work in your studies or how you really wanted to go abroad and explore and I really wanted to scold them for it.” 

“Y-You still remember that?” He asks in disbelief, earning him a casual nod from you. 

“Of course,” You confirm, your free hand unconsciously balling into fists on your lap at the memory. “I’ve never wanted to yell at my mom’s friends until that point even when you tried laughing it off so I’m glad you proved them wrong when you came back during Christmas and impressed them when they asked about it again.” 

You see Jisung chuckle under his breath shyly, tearing his gaze at you for a moment. “You mentioned that night that you were annoyed. I never knew you were this annoyed.” He muses out loud. “Thanks.” 

“Thinking about it now, I feel a bit bad,” You point out after, heaving a frustrated sigh. “You’re keeping up with fake dating me even though it just started as a little joke last Christmas to protect me in a way but I couldn’t stand up to you two years ago.” 

Looking up at Jisung, he grins at you reassuringly and shakes his head, effectively easing the atmosphere back into being more lighthearted. “No, it’s okay.” He dismisses your frown. “Just knowing what you really thought then is fine already.” 

“And,” He shifts in his seat after, transferring the tubs of ice cream in between the two of you now to his other side so he can scoot closer. “I get free food every other day from your mom because we’re ‘dating’ so it’s nothing, really.” 

You scoff when he breaks out into laughter. “Right, of course.” You deadpan before breaking out into genuine laughs yourself. “What was I even thinking, talking about sincere things with you?” 

The two of you laugh for a while, even more when Jisung pretends to complain that you just 'wasted’ the last act of the movie talking about ‘mushy stuff.’ 

“Stop complaining, dummy,” You smack his elbow, sitting up properly now as the credits begin to roll. “you entertained my rants instead of stopping me so it’s your fault too.” 

“Because you brought up something of mine from two years ago!” He protests before moving away to gather all your scattered snacks to the coffee table, laughing in disbelief all throughout. “I had to respond or it’d be rude!” 

You only roll your eyes at him, making the two of you laugh even harder. You then lean back on the sofa, stretching your hands above your head and removing your legs off of Jisung while he disconnects his laptop from the television and closes both electronic gadgets. 

Turning to you, after, you see his laughs turn into a small sincere smile once again. “But seriously,” He says, glancing back at you from his shoulder. “Thanks.” 

“For?” You prod him teasingly, earning you a groan of frustration from him. 

“For almost getting mad at the elders?” He jokes back with a raised eyebrow before going back to being sincere again. “Nah, for being understanding with me and my choices.” 

“Of course,” You reply casually. “even if we joke around a lot, you’re one of my best friends—well, as if I had a choice in that, you know me too well and too long.”     

“Way to ruin the moment.” He frowns at you in feigned disappointment, making you chuckle, until another thought crosses his mind. “And, Y/N?” 

“Hm?” You look up expectantly at him. 

“We have to break up some time after the wedding but I’ll still try and protect you,” He clears his throat awkwardly. “from the ‘rude’ and ‘invasive’ comments after, I mean. You should do whatever you want to do freely and date seriously when you want, not when older people pressure you into it.” 

At this, your gaze softens at him visibly, even more when he doesn’t make other hints that he’s joking. “Thank you.” You mumble, just loud enough for only him to hear when you see Mrs. Han pass by the hallway again. “You should too, you know, do whatever you want and date whenever you want to.”

Jisung opens his mouth to speak but, behind him, you catch a glimpse of Mrs. Han suddenly returning to the hallway and stopping by the living room entrance again, waving at you and unintentionally cutting her son off. “Y/N, Sungie, dinner’s ready!” She informs you before Jisung could even get a single syllable out, making him purse his lips in annoyance with his face hidden from his own mom’s view. “Y/N, I already texted your mom, by the way, and she said it’s fine that you stay over for dinner.” 

You turn to the side and nod at Mrs. Han, chuckling when you see Jisung hiding his hands on his lap and exaggeratedly curling his fingers up in frustration. “Thank you, auntie! We’ll be right there!” You assure her, smiling up at her until she disappears back to the opposite direction of the kitchen. 

Turning back to Jisung, you swat his finger tips back into relaxing with a laugh. “Guess we have to go back to adhering to the system and fake dating for now, though.” You conclude with a giggle, standing up from the sofa and fixing your clothes. “What were you going to say before your mom barged in?” 

After a moment of silent contemplating, Jisung ends up shaking his head and following you, gathering the tubs of ice cream in his hands. “It was nothing.” 

“Really?” You ask, elbowing him gently before picking up your water tumblers from the sofa. “Come on, tell me.”

“It’s nothing, seriously.” Jisung assures you with a laugh, walking ahead of you out of the living room and turning around to see you catch up. “Come on, leech, dinner time.” 

You bump his shoulder with a laugh when you manage to catch up with him, “Shut up, you’re also a leech.” 

“But not on this day, you’re in my house.” He corrects. 

Dinner with the Hans regrettably passes too soon even with all of Mrs. Han’s questions on your school life and post-college plans; and Mr. Han bringing up embarrassing and, at times, even exaggerated stories from when you and Jisung were children. When Mr. Han is suddenly forced to retreat back into his home office to attend to a minor emergency (hastily bidding you and Jisung goodnight) and Mrs. Han managed to win in your argument over you helping her and the house helpers to do the dishes, the old grandfather clock at the house entrance strikes quarter to 9 PM which prompts Jisung to offer you company in walking back home. 

“Yes, how thoughtful of you, Sungie! Do walk Y/N home!” His mom comments with a proud grin as she shoos you out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you after Spring Break, Y/N, okay?” 

You nod, giving her one last side hug, careful of the dish washing liquid bubbling up on her pink gloves. “Have fun on your trip to Jeju, auntie!” 

“I’d ask you to come along if it didn’t turn out so last minute, I did mention it on New Year” She jokes, much to Jisung’s horrified face. “Oh, Sungie, what’s that look for? Don’t you want Y/N to go on a trip with us next time?” 

You giggle nervously, pulling away from the hug after and taking a step back to Jisung’s side. “Maybe next time, auntie? I have lots of deadlines this break, anyway.”

“Ya!” Jisung hisses at you discreetly, pouting again that you’re entertaining his mom’s antics. You only elbow him in response. 

In front of you, Mrs. Han seriously contemplates on the idea before waving her drier glove. “Yes, it is quite last-minute right now since we leave on Monday.” She smiles fondly. “Next time, it is, then!” 

“Okay, that’s enough planning for a future trip!” Jisung quickly interjects before you can humor his mom longer, placing an arm over your shoulder and turning you around to face the open door leading outside. “It’s getting late and I have to walk back here on my own after!” 

You wave back at Mrs. Han, laughing when she rolls her eyes at her son before bidding you one last goodnight. “Goodnight, auntie!” 

With that, Jisung gently pushes you into a run out of his house, haphazardly closing the door behind him and directing you across the front lawn, to their gates, then, finally, to the dimly-lit streets of your subdivision. You’re only pulled to a stop when Jisung almost pushes you to a car parked on the house across his, making you laugh. 

“Ya, we didn’t have to run out so fast!” You protest, clutching your stomach with one hand while the other hits his side. “My stomach hurts.” 

“You keep entertaining my mom’s ideas!” He playfully whines back in between tired pants, catching his breath quickly before throwing an arm over your shoulder. “If you’ll keep going like this, you might actually become best friends!” 

You scoff, keeping his arm on your shoulder anyway as the two of you now walk to the direction of your house. “Watch your words, Han Jisung, or it might actually happen.” You warn him teasingly, adjusting your backpack on your shoulder. “Besides, I was just doing what you were doing on New Year—how did you call it?—’earning points.’” 

“I also told you then that my mom already likes you so much,” He pouts, easily pulling you flush against him when a lone car passes by. Instinctively, he then moves you to his other side so he’s walking closer to the road. “You’re just going to be more annoying at this point.” 

“Well, I like your mom, too, so I’m going to be extra annoying from now on,” You grin mischievously. “maybe until we ‘break up’ then everything’s going to be awkward for a while.” 

Glancing over at Jisung from your side, you see him genuinely frown momentarily before sighing in feigned defeat. “Fine, do whatever you want.” 

You want to ask him about the sudden frown but you end up shrugging it off as you cross the street to get to the right turn at the intersection. With the new direction you’re walking into, Jisung shifts you to his other side again. 

“You know, it’s not like some car’s going to crash into us,” You move to his other side anyway and swiftly dodging another offer of him slinging his arm over your shoulder. “We’re inside the village? Where the speed limit is 20 kph?” 

Jisung scoffs, dropping his arm back to his side “Your house is on your side of the street, dumbass, that’s why I moved you there.” And, as if on cue, you see your own house slowly coming into view among the towering gates and trees. “That little heart-to-heart talk we had must be getting to you, huh?” 

“As if.” You elbow his side in retaliation, your backpack hitting his back slightly in the process which only fuels his teasing more. 

“Aren’t you glad I’m here to walk you home?” He asks with a grin, just as you reach your gates. “Imagine if you got lost when we’re literally a block apart.” 

“I hope the dog next door escapes and chases you back home,” You groan, walking a few steps ahead to open the smaller entrance on your gate with your key. 

Behind you, Jisung only laughs, unfazed, before walking over to your side again and extending his arms out for a hug. “Okay, sorry,” He grins halfheartedly. “Come here, goodbye hug.”  

You raise an eyebrow at him, swinging your gate open with one hand and stepping one foot on the other side. “What do you mean? My mom’s inside.” 

“Yeah, but I haven’t hugged you alone in a while.” He points out while tilting his head sideways, earning him a genuine look of confusion from you. 

“Ya, it’s not like we don’t hug platonically before all this.” He adds with a shaky snicker before pouting. “I’m going to get s—”

“Okay, fine.” You scoff with a small smile, stepping outside again to hug him. “Look who’s getting all mushy now.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” He shakes his head against your neck, reluctantly pulling away from you after a while. Rubbing the nape of his neck bashfully, he adds, “It’s just that—everything’s been a bit different now since I got home.”  

“It’s mostly your fault—”   

“—I know and I don’t regret it,” He interjects quickly, wiping the smug smile of your face. “since I’m doing it to get you away from creepy guys but it’s just us now and I sort of...miss being casual.” 

Your frown tugs upwards into a sincere smile as you lean back against the gates. “We are casual. It’s just that people are looking now.” 

“Can we hang out sometime?” He suggests with hopeful eyes. “just us, like old times.”

“You call it old times like it wasn’t just two years ago,” You point out, chuckling now. “But—sure.”

Jisung nods with a big grin now, excitedly shifting his weight on his feet. “So, see you after the Break?” 

“Buy me something nice from Jeju then we can talk.” You conclude, stepping inside now completely. “Night, Sungie.” 

“Hm, goodnight.” 

When you accompany one of the Han’s family drivers to fetch Jisung and his parents at Incheon International Airport exactly a week later, you only expected to see the box of imported chocolate snacks Jisung promised to buy you as the only unfamiliar thing that you’ll see, maybe even an entirely new carrier with Mrs. Han’s vacation haul if she did actually spent more time shopping than working. 

What you genuinely did not expect, upon finally spotting your best friend and his parents waiting for you at crowded Seattle’s Best, is him holding more than just your box of chocolates. 

“Hey?” You wave at Jisung in confusion as you stop right in front of him. To your right, you catch a glimpse of the family driver, Mr. Yoo, greeting Mr. and Mrs. Han on the next table before obligingly taking their luggage cart. “Who’s this little angel?” 

Only then do you notice the two other unfamiliar people with Jisung’s parents, eyeing you curiously and whispering to Mrs. Han, probably to ask who you are.

Jisung waves his hand at you once before transferring the same hand over the nape of his neck, “Y-Yeah, um, this is—”    

But before he could even finish and maybe even explain, the little girl on his lap shifts in her place and jumps to stand in front of you. “Hello!” She grins sweetly in slightly broken Korean, waving one hand at you while the other clutches Jisung’s bear plushie. “I’m Kitty!”

“Oh, hi, Kitty!” You bend your knees slightly to level with her gaze hidden behind round eyeglasses, briefly sparing a glance at Jisung after and raising an eyebrow at him before smiling again at the little girl. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you!” 

“It’s nice to...m-meet you!” She politely returns the gesture, hugging Jisung’s bear plushie shyly after and making your heart skip a beat. “Will you also live with us?” 

“At home?” Your furrow your eyebrows deeply now, standing up properly and turning to Jisung who you then belatedly notice has stood up as well and slung his backpack and Kitty’s over his shoulder. “Sung?” 

Jisung stands next to Kitty and places a hand behind her back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Kitty’s going to live with us for a while.” 

ch. 4 // series masterlist

tags: @t-toodumbtocare​ @sandaigdigan-reads​ @pwarkhans​ @ruellelix​ @malai-barfi​ @mahalau​ @milkywayfelix @qweens-stuff @tenclouds​ @crscendoforsung​ @verobibble

[bittywitches]

I’m obsessed with the college roommates concept— maybe you’re feelings lonely and kinda sad abt ur love life one night and Grayson offers to take you on a date just for fun as friends but then ~feelings~ happen ☺️

Umm do you mean that one episode in season 8 of friends where Joey takes out pregnant Rachel and gets his crush on her??? Bc yes :))

It’s probably just been one of those weeks, you know? An assload of assignments, tests and exams every other day, most of which you’d completely bombed and were feeling shitty about. You hadn’t had more than 5 hours of sleep a day in like a month, you’d been living off of microwavables and instant noodles, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a sip of water since all your energy has been from coffee. And the kids in all your group projects this semester? Idiots. Selfish pricks. Every single one of them.

So it was needless to say that you were just in one of those moods. It was a Friday night, so things had slowed down enough, finally, but it also finally gave you some time to let yourself think, and god it was not great when you had to think.

It had started as just one of those basic thoughts; “What am doing? Where is this going?” which lead to “Why am I even in college in the first place?” Ending with “Oh my god I’m wasting my life and I’m gonna be alone forever”.

By the time Grayson had made it home that night, you were huddled up in the living room sofa under a blanket, your laptop open in your lap and snacks all over the table a couch while “Isn’t she lovely” by Stevie Wonder played on your phone as you tried your best not to burst into tears at the thought of never finding a boyfriend.

“Whoa, I don’t remember getting my invite to this slumber party.” He laughed, kicking his shoes off and throwing his bag onto the single sofa next to yours.

You slumped your shoulders. “It’s not a slumber party, it’s a pity party.”

“Oh?” He sat himself down on the sofa. “Who for?”

“Me, who else?” You wallowed, stuffing some more popcorn into your mouth.

“Why, did you get marks back?” He asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, a bit concerned at the volume of popcorn you were putting into your mouth with each bite.

“No, but what’s the point? I already know I’m doing bad.” You slumped backwards into the couch, just wishing you could be swallowed by the pillows and cushions.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on your knee, looking at you seriously now. He knew you. Your general melt downs he was used to, but this was different. He could tell something was wrong. “You okay?”

You sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter and pausing the song so you could think straight. “You don’t wanna hear about it.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

You sighed, slipping your legs out from under you and dangling them off the couch. “Okay, um..” Grayson’s hand had fallen away, and you suddenly felt like rubbing the spot on your leg where it had been. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been so busy lately, and it’s just gotten me thinking about my life in general. And how I haven’t gone out on a date in like…” You had to stop and think, and started laughing after a few seconds. “In so long I can’t even remember. Wow, god.” You sunk back into the couch. “I miss dating.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Yea?”

“Yeah, you know,” You waved your hands around vaguely. “The whole excitement of it. Getting to dress up and look all nice. Feeling all pretty.” He tilted his head at you, and you shook your head and laughed. “But you know, not that I need the reminder. I’m obviously hot as fuck.” You gestured to yourself, highlighting your nest of hair and your stained sweatshirt. You waited for him to laugh, but he just continued to look at you with that weirdly deep expression.

“What?”

“How about I take you on a date?”

You blinked at him, then started to chuckle, confused. “Huh?”

“You know, as friends. But I’ll give you like, the whole experience.”

You almost spit at that. “The ‘whole experience’?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. We’ll get all dressed up, go out to a nice place for dinner or something.”

You sat up now, your eyes narrowed at him. “Why?”

“Why not? It’s a friday. If you have stuff to do you can always do it later.”

“You know where that mindset gets me, Dolan.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He smiled. “Plus, you deserve a fun night.”

You scoffed. “Yea, but not with a boyfriend or anything. With my roommate.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Incredibly.”

“God just shut up and go change.”

You laughed. “I— You know what? What the heck.” You got up, and he did with you. “Ah, okay!” You gave him a quick squeeze before running to your room, and his eyes followed after you, a gentle smile on his lips.

…

He’d done the whole shebang. He got dressed in a nice dress shirt and clean black jeans, something you’d actually never seen him wear before. He’d somehow gotten you a bouquet of flowers, which, you weren’t even sure where or how he’d gotten them, because you couldn’t have taken more than twenty minutes to get ready. Nonetheless, he truly was the gentleman you had never expected. This was Grayson, the guy you watched old disney movies with and cried with during finals. He was the one you’d eat whole pints of ice cream with and play The Last of Us with and helped you master. He certainly wasn’t the one who was supposed to be complimenting you on your dress and taking you out to nice dinners. But here he was, doing just that.

He’d parked his car and was now escorting you inside this tiny but upscale italian restaurant, simple but elegant. As you entered through the glass door, the dazzling chandelier above the waiting area along with the gorgeous red sconces blew you away.

“Grayson how did you get a place like this on such short notice?” You whispered to him, gripping his arm, a bit intimidated by all the fancy folk waiting inside.

“I know some people.” He responded, a small smile on his lips.

You slapped his arm. “As if, you don’t even know the name of the Starbucks barista on campus.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t you let me be cool?” You stared at him waiting for the response, and he sighed. “This place is fairly new. Not that many people know about it yet, so it’s pretty easy to get a reservation.”

“How’d you know about it then?”

“Found it when I was looking for a place to take Sarah to.”

“Oh my god that girl from your Kinesiology class?” You looked at him with wide eyes and a grin on your face. “No way! I didn’t think you’d grow the balls to ask her out.”

“Hey,” He said, but you laughed. “Well, I haven’t exactly asked her yet. I was just checking it out.”

“Well either way, she’s going to love this place, it’s so extravagant.” You made it to the front and Grayson informed the woman standing there of his reservation. She escorted you both inside and brought you to a table next to one of the windows. She’d dropped off two glasses of water and menus for you both to look at in the meantime. You peaked at the one in front of you, and your eyes grew again.

“Gray, did you happen to look at the prices before coming here?”

“Don’t worry, I’m buying.” He flipped through his casually, as if he wasn’t exasperated at the large numbers printed on the cards.

“Are you serious? What are you, made of money?”

“Hey, I promised you a fun night, right? I can make a few sacrifices.”

A young man came up to your table, and you both gave him your order. You ended up choosing the cheapest thing on the menu, because a) you didn’t want to be too much of a burden on Grayson, but also b) you barely knew what any of it was anyways. He left, you both chatted for a bit, and he returned with your meals, both of them being some sort of pasta that you were a bit embarrassed about not knowing the differences between.

Grayson didn’t really know that much either, to be quite honest, but for some reason he felt the need to impress you with this place. And he was pretty giddy about the fact that it was working.

But throughout this, you had kept staring at him, frankly a bit shocked at the whole situation you both were in. You had to shake your head to get your thoughts straight, but ended up giggling. “So, you always this sweet with the girls you take out on dates?”

He bit his cheek, but decided to play along, lowering his fork and leaning in towards you to hear you over the chatter in the restaurant. “Why, you interested?”

“No, just curious what it is that Grayson Dolan pulls to get a girl.” You crossed your arms on the table, on elbow propped up with your chin resting on your hand. “Tell me, you have any moves?”

He laughed. “What, that I just use with every girl?”

“Don’t act so modest. There’s gotta be something. What gets them drooling?” You asked a playful smile on your lips.

He rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his food. “Okay fine, um.” He cleared his throat. “It usually starts out the same, I ask them about themself. Where they’re from, what they do— like, okay. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

You snorted. “Are we doing this? Are we playing this out?”

“Yesss, go with it.”

You laughed. “Okay, uh well. I like to paint sometimes.”

“Yea? What kind of stuff?”

“Well I used to do more traditional stuff, my parents were really into those pretty realism paintings. I’d do flowers and fruits and whatever, but every since, I guess junior year of high school, I’ve been doing more pop art pieces? And a lot more self-indulgent stuff. And I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling, but also realizing that Grayson had his soft eyes fixed on yours.

“What?”

His eyes widened a little, as if you’d shook him out of a daze, and he chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just, uh... “ He smiled. “Your eyes are really pretty.”

Your face flushed a little bit, and you looked away from him, taking a sip of water to use it as your excuse. “Ah, thank you.”

He shook his head. “Anyways, so do you still do pop art now? Or has it changed since you’ve started college?”

You blinked at him, then covered your mouth as you opened it in slight shock. “Wow, that was really good.”

He laughed. “Yea?”

“The eye thing was good on it’s own but to know you were actually listening to me? I’m impressed.” You nodded in approval.

He tilted his head, chuckling. “Thank you, thank you.” He took another bite of food before continuing. “So what about you? You have any moves?”

You snorted again. “Gray, I barely go out on enough dates in the first place, much less enough to establish any moves.”

“Why are you always so modest? You can tell me you know.”

You laughed. “Yeah duh I know, but I’m genuinely serious this time. I don’t get asked out all that often.” You shrugged. “It’s why I get excited when I do get to go on dates. It’s fun.”

Grayson was the one who couldn’t help but stare now. He blinked at you, unable to really comprehend what you were saying to him. How could people not want to ask you out? You were incredible. Looking at you now, your hair up in a dainty bun, a few curls falling down the sides of your face; your pretty off the shoulder dress that matched your deep magenta-maroon lipstick. And he wasn’t lying about your eyes, they really were so pretty. They sparkled, even more so when you were laughing. Which was usually accompanied by your scrunched up nose, making you look like a cute little bunny. He smiled at the thought, as he loved seeing that expression on your face.

“Huh.” he said out loud then, not realizing when it was he had starting noticing your small actions like that so much.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him, and suddenly, seeing those same eyes he always saw staring at him, he felt almost light headed. His face felt warm, seeing you look at him like that. He was almost afraid that you could see what he was thinking. But why would that be a problem unless…

Grayson slowly widened his eyes. Did he seriously have feelings for Y/N?

“Nothing, sorry.” He said with a smile, looking back down at his food. Sure, he’d always thought you were amazing. You were gorgeous, sure, and you made him laugh. And yea he loved hanging out with you, watching movies and playing video games, and he adored being your roommate, having late night conversations and spending all your free time together…

He wanted to mentally smack himself in the face. Shit, he had feelings for you.

This was going to be a long night.

[druidgroves]

envenomation

campaign: ihunt tw: snake bite, rattlesnake references, blood, etc. all the fun stuff that comes with being bitten by a rattlesnake, but it’s a vampire with rattlesnake features instead. super fun. notes: in the post-game after about five years of dating, luis finally asks jo if she wants to be a vampire with him. this is how that process goes down.

en·​ven·​om·​ation | \ in-ˌve-nə-ˈmā-shən definition of envenomation: an act or instance of poisoning by venom (as of a snake or spider)

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jo looks around herself and Luis and the set up they’ve created. They’re standing in the bathroom of their newest apartment, hand in hand. There’s plastic covering the floor and part of the sink because Jo’s a planner and she knows it could get a little messy (plus, she wants their deposit back when they eventually pick up and move again). In an ice bath in the sink are three blood bags that she managed to secure through helping with the local 66. The two of them are in clothes they don’t mind having to possibly burn later and Jo has her hair up in a high bun.

She has to laugh, “Wouldn’t have set up all this if I weren’t entirely sure, babe.”

Luis’ eyebrows furrow as he squeezes her hands. She can tell that he can tell that her nerves are on edge and that her palms are a little clammy.

“Jo,” he starts and her smile disappears to match his expression, “I’m serious. This is a big commitment and I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this just to be with me. You know I’d stay with you as long as you’d have me, even without doing this.”

Jo slips her hands out of his and reaches out to cup his face, bringing him down to press his forehead to hers.

“I wouldn’t be here if I did not trust you entirely,” she says. “I know that you’d stay with me until I was old and gray but like I said before...I had to live through you dying in that other timeline. It felt awful not being able to do anything to stop it. I don’t want you to have to go through that, especially after what happened to your friends. You don’t deserve to deal with any more loss.”

“Okay,” Luis breathes. “Okay.”

“I love you,” Jo says and kisses him softly. “Let’s do this.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, giving her another kiss to the forehead. “Let’s do this.”

She takes his hand and leads him over to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It’s slightly stained interior will soon be even more stained soon. They might have to bleach it later, just in case.

“So I guess you take the lead from here?” Jo asks, tapping her fingers anxiously on the side of the bathtub.

“Uh, yeah, I guess I do,” Luis confirms. “You’ll want to bend your head like this--”

He shows her the position she’ll need to take and she copies it, pulling down the collar of an old UCSJ t-shirt and exposing her neck fully.

“Okay, so it’s definitely going to hurt, fair warning.”

“I expected as much.”

“It’ll stop after a while and then you won’t feel anything,” he continues, “But while you do feel it, it’s gonna suck. It’s not pleasant.”

“Babe, you sound more nervous than I do and I’m the one about to get drained like a Capri-Sun.”

Luis sighs, “First of all, not how that works. Second, why would I not be nervous? I’m about to turn you into an immortal rattlesnake. Third, please don’t say that ever again.”

Jo lets out a shaky laugh. “Okay, okay, sorry. Let’s go.”

With another sigh that’s more to center himself than to lament his girlfriend’s terrible jokes, Luis gently puts one hand on Jo’s shoulder and the other cups the left side of her head. Without much warning, his eyes flash a golden amber color, pupils becoming slits as his fangs extend past the length of a normal vampire’s. Jo tenses a little under his hands and before she can blink, his fangs are piercing her neck.

At first, it feels like getting a shot with a particularly thick needle--she’d seen those while finishing up nursing school plenty of times--and she lets out a gasp, but after a beat, a sharp, stabbing pain begins to attack every one of her nerve endings, setting them on fire. The sudden pain was enough to make her nearly fall backwards into the bathtub, but Luis doesn’t let her, his fangs still buried in her jugular as blood begins to pour from the open wound. He holds her still as she jerks, making sure the right amount of venom enters her system and he hates how terrible this is going to be for her.

When he’s done, his rattlesnake features gone, he starts frantically repeating, “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Through the almost blinding pain that she’s doing her best not to scream about so the neighbors don’t call the cops, she can feel his hand pressing firmly to the side of her neck, presumably to stop the bleeding. Her hands have his shirt in a death grip and her teeth are grinding together.

“It hurts,” she all but growls through clenched teeth. She’s pretty sure she’s crying but a few seconds ago she started feeling her face go numb so she can’t quite tell. All she knows now is the look of complete and utter panic on Luis’ face as he holds her tight.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, it’ll pass, I promise,” is all he can get out.

They sit there on the side of the bathtub for a while, Jo shaking and holding back screams as the venom from his bite overtakes her, Luis betting that if his heart still beat, it would be threatening to burst out of his chest. Then, Jo is pulling away from him to throw up into the bathtub and he’s reminded of his own turning and how he’d done the same thing. He helps her sit upright again and takes the hand towel hanging beside the bathroom mirror to wipe away the sweat from her face and the vomit from the corners of her mouth. At this point she’s lost her summer tan in favor of a sickly pallor that makes her eyes and cheeks look gaunt.

“There, there’s two of you,” she says, the words tumbling from her mouth as her eyes struggle to stay open. Luis knows what comes next.

“Shh, don’t say anything,” he whispers close to her ear, Jo clinging to his chest as her breathing begins to slow. “You’re gonna start falling asleep.”

“Am I gonna...am I gonna wake up?” she asks.

She can’t see the expression on his face now and Luis is grateful for it. He knows that he did it right, he’d seen a handful of turnings when the Rattlesnakes were at peak membership. He gave the right amount of venom, he held her tight, he did everything correctly, he knew he didn’t mess this up, but he still couldn’t help but feel panicked as Jo began to slip.

He feels her heartbeat slow, her chest barely rising to breathe, then she was gone, and all that remained was him, holding her body over the bathtub.

---

There was blackness, and at the very end of that blackness, a pinhole of white.

Inside the inky void, she knew she had nothing to do but attempt to walk towards it. She felt floaty, like she weighed nothing at all, and each step was as light and careful as a falling feather. Ever so slowly, the pinhole of white grew until it was the size of a quarter, a basketball, a hula-hoop. Before it could change into a doorway for her to reach out and touch, the blackness began to feel like hunger and suddenly she was being pulled away from the light at breakneck speed and the light consumed her as it shifted into the fluorescent bulbs of the bathroom.

Hovering above her, concern and fear written all over his face, was Luis.

If this were like any other time he had woken up before her, watching her sleep until her eyes fluttered open, she’d give him a good morning kiss and they’d get up to make breakfast. This was not like any other time, though.

Hunger overtook every thought and impulse and with surprising speed, Jo launched herself past Luis to the sink. She wasted no time in snatching up one of the blood bags from the ice bath and tearing into it. From his position on the floor, Luis could see her new reptilian features as the blood began to pour down her chin. Golden amber eyes, impossibly long fangs, and a hunger that wouldn’t be sated until she was done. The visceral, aggressive image before him was so different from the soft, gentle woman he knew her to be, but he knew that version of her was still there, just masked by hunger and desire. He was intimately familiar with what that felt like, so he had no room to judge as she ripped into the second bag.

By this point, most of the blood was covering half of her face, most of her shirt, her arms, and parts of the sink. Hopefully, the clean up process would be easy due to Jo’s foresight.

The bathroom was full of the coppery scent of blood and, quite frankly, the incredibly gross sounds of slurping as Jo eventually emptied the third bag. She tossed the empty bag into the sink, breathing in deep as her new fangs began to retract and golden amber eyes shifted back to brown. After a moment, she seemed to come back to herself as she finally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, horrified at what looked back at her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry--”

Luis moved to be beside her, his hands going to grip her arms to help ground her.

“You’re alright, you don’t need to apologize,” he reassured her, hands slick with more blood that wasn’t his. “How do you feel? Was that enough blood?”

“I--I think? It felt like tunnel vision, I couldn’t even think about anything else,” Jo said. “God, I’m a mess right now, I’m so embarrassed.”

“It’s fine, I went through the same thing you did, it’s nothing new,” he replied. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll run you a shower and start dealing with the plastic.”

After about an hour and a half, the bathroom was cleaned up and smelled more like bleach than blood. The two were curled up on their thrifted couch, Jo sitting halfway on Luis’ lap.

“So yeah, if you ever come across an actual rattlesnake, you can kind of communicate with it, but not super intelligently,” he explained.

“Like the time you hissed at that one snake when you drove me out to the ruins of Falcon Hill,” she nodded, then when she was met with a confused look, she clarified, “Other timeline stuff. It still gets a little jumbled in my head.”

“Well, now you have all the time in the world to sort it out, at least,” he said.

“Yep,” she nodded again, then, “Jesus, when do we tell the group? My parents and Sam? I know we’re scattered to the winds but I don’t wanna show up at the next family gathering or Gas Station Day like ‘oops, I’m a vampire now! Surprise!’”

Luis laughed, “You can tell them when you’re ready. I think some of them would have probably guessed eventually.”

Jo joined in on his laughter, “Oh, absolutely. Ophelia would clock me in a second.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he agreed. His tone turned somber as he continued, “Just...you know what we talked about. Having to pull away at some point. Are you sure you’re prepared for that?”

“I know, but...I watched my friends die more than once. I think that when it comes time for it to actually happen, I’ll be ready. Besides,” she said, taking one of his hands into her own and squeezing, “I won’t have to be alone for it.”

He squeezed back, wrapping his other arm around her waist and hugging her tight.

“For as long as you’d have me,” he said.

She let go of his hands and tilted his chin up towards her for a deep kiss.

“There’s no one I’d rather spend eternity with.”

[fanfictioncorner]

Adventures of Fanfiction Corner Part 1- Browser x Wi-Fi (part 1)

Mickey was just putting the finishing touches on a new fic she was going to post. Some trauma for this character here. Some life long hatred of water and the cold for that character over there. Some hot bedroom time for these two characters. A breakup for those. Truthfully she was on a roll.

“Mickey,” Sock says walking into the room. Sock was the only one who dared poke the bear when Mickey was on one of her 2-3 week writing binges.

Mickey hummed in response,” I’m almost done-”

Mickey hears a soft sigh, “Mickey we have a problem.”

Instantly Mickey’s head shoots up and she looks at her partner in crime, “Are we talking IDK blew up the kitchen problem or IDK blew up the moon problem?” Mickey asked. Hoping to God it was the moon. She had had pudding in the fridge. She hadn’t had pudding on the moon.”

“Worse than both of those, and not involving IDK at all,” Sock says eyes wide.

Mickey took a moment to finally look at Sock’s face. Their eyes were wide and full of dread. Their mouth was set into a fine line, and their face was frighteningly pale.

If the master of instigation was this worried about something happening, then something was truly wrong. 

Mickey nodded her head and closed out of all the tabs on her computer, saving her writing (even though she knew once the page closed it would never be opened again). She stood up stretching a bit before putting on her problem solving exterior. Some called it her crisis management face.

Mickey followed Sock out to their giant living room. The rest of the members of fanfiction corner seemed to be scattered throughout the room. Varying stages of horror on their faces.

Mickey turned as she entered the room, “Sock who the fuck died?” Mickey asked questioningly.

Sock shook their head, “No one died... yet.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. Everyone looked to be relatively safe, as safe as one can be in this house, so what the hell was Sock talking about?

“Is this your leader?” A gruff annoyed voice asked, and Mickey spun on her heal to stare at a guy who was the same height as her, though probably much better off in the looks department.

“You told them I was the leader!?” Mickey whisper yelled to Sock.

“All of the mods agreed it was the best choice,” Sock says smiling. Sock steps back to stand with the rest of the mods as Mickey mouths ‘traitor’ at them.

“How can I help you gentlemen?” Mickey asks after catching sight of a second male to the left of the first. 

“Is everyone gathered here?” The gruff male directly in front of Mickey asked.

Mickey bristled at the rudeness. 

Motherfucker I left my writing binge for this shit, I swear to fucking god you better not ignore me. 

“It appears that everyone is here,” Mickey speaks through gritted teeth,” But I can assure you that I can handle this just fine without dragging them into this mess.”

“They are the mess,” The male muttered gruffly. The companion at his side stood quietly. Shyly shifting from foot to foot. “I’m here to fix a problem.”

Mickey glared,” Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are?”

The gruff male turned and glared at Mickey. His icy blue ice pierced the air, “I’m you’re fucking browser history, and that’s your Wi-fi. We’ve taken human forms and boy we have some things to say to you.”

Mickey chuckles a bit, but then stops when no one else in the room joins in. 

“Please tell me he’s joking,” Mickey says, eyes shooting over to Sock.

Sock instead points to the guy pointed out as Wi-fi and sheepishly smiles, “He gives off a signal.”

Mickey stares for a moment at Sock in shock, “You’re joking.”

Sock and all of the mods shake their heads in denial... no.

They weren’t joking.

Mickey’s face pales at the thought of their collective browser history coming to life.

“Now that we have that sorted,” Browser says with a fake smile,” I have some things I am dying to say to you.”

Mickey audibly gulps.

Browser points at the group that most often hangs out in 18 plus chat and glares, “You all are going to a special place in hell!!!” 

None of them refute it. He wasn’t wrong.

“HOW DO YOU EVEN THINK OF SOME OF THE STUFF THAT YOU WRITE!?” Browser yells throwing his hands up in the air, “I SWEAR HINATA HAS GOTTEN SCREWED EVERY WAY POSSIBLE INSIDE OF MY HEAD BECAUSE OF YOU FUCKS!!!”

A sharp chuckle comes from Gray and Slayer. They mainly wrote angst after all and it must be pretty fun when the blame isn’t being put on you. 

“Don’t get cheeky,” Browser says turning and glaring at the two who were giggling, “I’m not happy with you either.”

The giggling stops and their mouths snap shut, “Do you know the amount of times I have to see your little angst stories play through my head. Every day. Every day. I am tired. I want one dream where not all my characters die or they at least get a happy ending.”

Slayer mutters a small, “Sorry.”

And suddenly Browser is turning to the fanart makers, “AND YOU ASSHOLES!!! I SWEAR IF I SEE ONE MORE DICK IN AN ASS I WILL LOSE IT COMPLETELY!!!”

There are multiple chokes of surprise. 

“And to the Supernatural fans in this room,” Browser says, “I hate you. To the Haikyuu fans here, you disgust me. And to the BNHA fans... PLEASE STOP WITH THE DABI SHIT!!!”

Mickey nods, after all this whole thing had to be over soon- 

“And you,” Browser turns to Mickey with a glare, “You are awful.”

Mickey lets out a surprised squeak, “I am not that bad.”

“You made Wi-fi cry and shut down after your last fic,” Browser deadpans.

“So that’s why the Wi-fi wasn’t working that day,” Mickey mutters under her breath.

“We don’t want to work for you anymore,” Browser says glaring,” you all suck.”

“Wait!” Mickey yells, “You can’t just leave, we kind of rely on you.”

Browser glares,” If we stay I’m making conditions.”

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

Three weeks later it was an outside day. Wi-fi and Browser were taking a day off, which meant that the whole of the house had to go outside in the sunlight.

“It’s gross,” Mickey mutters, “It’s bright and it’s gross.”

“You’re just mad you can’t do 2 week straight writing binges anymore.” Sock says smiling.

“Don’t test me,” Mickey says,” I swear I will get a typewriter.”

“And what if that came to life too?” Sock asked smiling.

Mickey gave a full body shiver.

[captainjimothycarter]

I heard you were looking for prompts, what do you think it would look like if Steve were around during Agent Carter (s1), like maybe by the Iron Ceiling episode

So, it’s been a loooong while since I’ve seen the Iron Ceiling or any Agent Carter and I don’t have the spoons to watch the show, so we’re gonna improv. So not historically accurate because I am not researching stuff.

This is a full-fledged fic And probably not what you wanted either because this is so rushed out. Rip me

--

“You sound exhausted.”

Despite that Steve was over the phone and given the sound of it, somewhere where there wasn’t much insulation due to the wind in the background, she could tell he was giving that sappy smile. It was combined with a small laugh and the shift of the phone line as it crackled when he held it closer.

“What’s new?” He sighed instead of commenting on Peggy’s statement. It only made her worry more. When she remained silent, he sighed louder. “Pegs, I’m fine. Okay, yes I’m a little exhausted, but so are you on your end given everything. We’re both strained and I...miss you.” 

His voice dropped down to the last two words, how desperate it sounded, made her heart drop. She wanted to crawl from this warm bed and wrap her arms around Steve and tuck his cold face into her neck to let him warm up. She wanted to protect him from not just the elements but the aftermath of a war that the public had no idea was about. 

He whispered the last two words because he was forced to - not because he had anything to hide, so Peggy told herself this despite it tugged on her in almost a jealous means. They were both professionals, they could remain professional over the phone and in the rare times they got in person. It was the only few times they got to be in private did those veils drops.

Steve being rescued had been nothing short of a miracle, an act of God or whatever deity was out there that was looking out for them. She had been the one to pull him from the ice, one of the first faces he’d seen when he woke up in one of Howard’s private hospitals. She’d been by his side his entire recovery, from learning to walk again and to have some cognitive function. The fact she refused to leave his side [see here: Philips had ordered her under the SSR’s watchful eye to keep an eye on their prized specimen] had resulted in them getting much closer in their relationship. 

Not only that, but it had caused her to start the American Branch of the SSR later than she had intended. While the boys in the office had no idea Captain America was alive [as they would all see to it], they knew of her history with Steve and used it against her as much as they could.

Steve’s existence, his being founded was kept under wrap and key. The only few people who had known about it were her, Phillips, and Howard. And of course, by now a recently rescued James Barnes and the Howling Commandos. As soon as Steve was stable enough, they sent him straight back to work, and given his contract with the SSR, they figured him pretty much property of the government.

It sickened Peggy to her core.

She was used to hiding her relationship and being professional in other’s eyes, but keeping Steve at arm’s length so he could be the government puppet in a whole new meaning was not what she wanted for her beloved.

“Peggy?”

“Hm?” The woman blinked, aware Steve had been on the other end, breathing noisily against the cold climate he was in to stay warm. “I apologize, darling, I was lost in my mind. As I was saying, I think our earlier appointment of meeting up to compare notes will be scheduled earlier.”

Underneath it, she was by all legal terms, still his liaison. Not only that, but she had been tasked with collecting information from both the Commandos, and that included at least monthly meetings with Steve. They might’ve been professional where they could share longing looks behind professional’s backs, but at least it was something to look forward to.

Steve knew everything going on with Howard and the SSR and her recent suspicions that there was a mole within their sights. Not just that, but Peggy was suspecting her phone lines had been bugged due to her involvement and friendship with Howard.

“Is it now?” Steve asked, turning his head to give a strained cough. It tugged on her heart. That didn’t sound too good. “Should I tell the boys?”

“Please do. I’ll wire in the details you’ll need. Anything you boys need on your end?”

“Dugan would kiss you if you brought him his usual stash. Pinky needs more fuses if you could snag a few. Oh, Bucky needs another set of binoculars and some more gloves.”

Despite he wasn’t here, she was nodding. Her hand worked without watching what she wrote on the paper. Steve knew of her suspicion of being bugged and had agreed code talking would keep the guys on edge and keep their conversations safe. 

“I’ll see what I can do, no promises, darling. Please get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Peggy sighed as she got off of the phone, looking down at the pad of paper on her bedside table. Someone has been trailing us, be on the lookout and keep your weapon on hand. 

And Dugan? Dugan just wanted his alcohol.

--

“Peggy, Dugan forgot the password again.”

Knowing that voice anywhere, she smiled despite her reserve as the familiar faces of the boys she had called family appeared out of the bushes. If she was concerned about a missing familiar face, then it didn’t show. Instead, Peggy found herself suddenly staring at the gray sky above them. The ground was cold and hard beneath her, but the body colliding with hers to knock her off of her feet was not.

There was a split second of silence before the Howling Commandos erupted into a field of laughter much to the rest of the stoic men’s confusion. Well, not so stoic now that the shock had runoff. Including the face tinted pink above her.

“Hello to you too, James,” Peggy laughed, Bucky slowly getting off of her chest and smiling in that boyish way that made her both jealous and loving.

“I didn’t believe ‘im when he said it, but I’m glad to be wrong.” Bucky was still as Brooklyn Boy as ever despite not having been home in months. He climbed to his feet and pulled her to hers, brushing the snow off of them. He pulled her into a proper hug, finding the Howling Commandos hugging her.

“You served with Captain America.”

Her heart clenched at the awe in their tone, looking at Jack who looked at her still with disbelief, as if she had lied this entire time about her connection to the Howlies. She shared a look with Bucky who looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon, standing near her left side. Dugan looked down at her too and he nodded in her direction.

“Not as long as she has. You good, Carter? Ready?”

Jack’s mouth opened, perhaps to dismiss Dugan treating her of all people like she’s the leader of this mismatched band of guys, but it was well ignored when they started to march through the snow. She watched as Jack hesitated as if debating on not following them before he scrambled not to be left behind.

“Pegs, you’re with me. Barnes, you too because I won’t have you pouting again.”

Peggy laughed, despite herself as she pulled herself up into the jeeps with Bucky’s arm thrown around her waist to help assist her. Bucky, for all his childish needs, stuck his tongue out at Dugan before the vehicle rumbled to life and they started to roll out. The quiet didn’t stretch on long, just enough for the loud engine to cover up any whisper talking.

“How is everything?” Bucky asked, his silver eyes wide with worry. “Steve has told us...everything that he could.”

“Same as ever,” Peggy sighed, shaking her head slightly. She glanced back to watch Pinky distract the SSR boys with a quick history chat. Good. “Howard’s still in deep shit and every step forward feels like one back. How’s Steve?”

Bucky frowned because they both knew that’s not what he was asking. “Exhausted. He never knows when to admit defeat. He was denied again to be stateside. He was told again his presence is needed out here.” The man rolled his eyes with a huff. “He’s one more bad night away from going AWOL, not that any of us blame him, poor guy is doing the job for all of us, plus whatever shit ya’ll send him to do.”

His tone told Peggy that he didn’t blame her, he was as frustrated as she was. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I’m sure some sense will be knocked into him sooner or later.” Her mouth opened to ask a question but a look from the jeep across from them caused her to close it.

Jack was watching her and closely.

--

“Carter!” 

Peggy heaved a heavy sigh as she repositioned her grip on the logs for their fire tonight. They were well enough hidden in the trees to ensure that no one should see the smoke with the light dusting of snow and gray skies around them. Stopping their conversation, she gave Jones a friendly smile and passed the logs off to him. She didn’t miss the annoyed look Jones shot Jack as he marched their way.

She wanted to snicker at how he was forced to walk, almost waddling like a toddler in this new environment. A comment was on her tongue, but to play fair, she bit it back and raised her chin. “Yes, Jack?”

“I don’t remember Dooley giving you command of our mission. You may disrespect his orders in the office but you will not disrespect me here.” He towered over her, a twitch in his jaw telling her that he’s been thinking about this far too long. She wanted to laugh, honestly because it almost sounded like he was jealous of her and her involvement with the Howling Commandos.

“He didn’t,” she replied in an equally cool tongue, shrugging her shoulders. “If you’ve been paying attention, Agent Thompson, I’ve been pulling my equal weight around here just as everyone else has.”

“Your involvement is this is only because of your pestering Dooley and your connection with the Commandos. Remember your place, Carter. You spent far too much time under Cap-”

A gloved hand clasping Peggy’s shoulder and making her knees buckle caused Jack to turn almost white as the environment around him. Despite knowing the situation, she had almost hoped the gloved hand belonged to Steve, but given how tightly it gripped her shoulder and the freehand that pulling on the strap of the rifle, she knew it was Bucky.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, eyes boring into Jack’s. He stood a little taller due to the boots, but it was enough for him to use his height over the agent. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Bucky mused, raising an eyebrow. “Peggy spent too much time where? Pegs, you wanna head back to camp, Pinky and Morita have a trick they wanna show you.”

Jack huffed, giving a roll of his eyes as Bucky’s arm pulled her closer to his chest. “Nothing, Sergeant. Carter and I were having a private conversation that you butted in.”

“If it’s nothing, then you won’t mind if I pull her away to help start the fire. You know us Howlies, too busy spending time worshipping the ground Steve walks on to know any survival skills. Only way we survived was cause of her.” He dug into his pocket and tossed Jack a small flashlight, nodding his head. “Go find us some more firewood, will you? It’s gonna be a long one.”

The look in Jack’s eyes told her that this conversation wasn’t over yet and honestly Peggy was looking forward to that.

“You know he’s going to think that you’re only protecting me because of Steve,” she sighed, shrugging his arm off as they walked back towards the distant camp. “Thank you, Bucky, but I can handle myself against Agent Thompson. It’s not the first time he’s been a right ass to me.”

“I know,” he grumbled, satisfyingly stomping on a branch to break it in half. “Steve has told us some things. He almost seems jealous of your connection to us - like you spend a whole war keeping our asses alive and you wouldn’t want to befriend us. Jackass. I think he’s waiting for us or you to slip up. They still think Steve’s a frozen capcicle?”

Snorting, Peggy gently smacked the sniper’s chest. “Yes but don’t let him hear you say that. Where is he?” She was used to being professional, keeping Steve at arm’s length in company but the fact he wasn’t around for her to assess with her eyes made her wary. If something had happened, they would’ve said something by now, especially Big Brother Barnes.

Bucky’s tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s close by. He wanted to keep an eye tag tailing us, be sure we’re not being followed.”

That did sound like Steve, alright. He wanted to defend all of them, keep an eye on the stragglers, and be sure no one was planning an attack. Peggy got the feeling he kept distance because neither of them was sure this charade of professionalism could be kept up if he was here. Then there were the SSR boys and their belief Steve was dead. 

--

“So how are you here?” Li asks, breaking the soft chatter that had been happening around the fire.

Peggy swallowed the rest of the bourbon down, passing the canister back to Dugan. She didn’t need to see who Li was directing the question to, she could feel Bucky tensing up beside her. He’d been a little tense since Jack stomped back into camp, dumping the mood uncermonsely and sitting far back away from them.

“Yeah, Buck, how are you here?” Juniper snickered, nudging his friend with his elbow. “You kinda just showed up one day.”

“And you adopted me like the straggly, little pup that I am,” Bucky huffed, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for the scrap, Carter.”

He nudged her slightly but behind the bright silver eyes and the need to make jokes and defuse the situation, he saw the curiosity in Li’s eyes.

“It’s just...we all read the reports. You died. You fell off the train,” Li pressed, not reading the situation. “So, how are you here?”

Sharing a look with Peggy, Bucky shrugged again. He opened his mouth but Dugan spoke up before any of them could. He knew of Bucky’s time in HYDRA, they all did, they had pulled him out of HYDRA, but he didn’t need to relive the past because of some curious agent who couldn’t tell his left from his right. Certainly not one who didn’t bother to spend two seconds respecting Peggy. 

“We found him,” Dugan grunted. “What those files didn’t tell you was Phillip’s, Captain Rogers’, and Agent Carter’s insistence on finding Barnes’ body. No one can survive a fall like that, but God above decided Barnes was too annoying to let die. And the fact he still owes me ten bucks.”

They all laughed because it wasn’t far from the truth. She watched Bucky sigh in relief and Dugan clasping his arm in solitude as he passed by them to dig through the bags.

“He only fell because Captain Rogers couldn’t hold on. Bet that guy rather polish his shield and shiny belt buckle -”

“You want to say something?!” Bucky snapped, the almost relaxed atmosphere had turned tense as he turned to glare at Thompson who had been sulking on the edge of the camp. “If you got something to say about Captain Rogers, then say it.”

“James,” Peggy breathed, squeezing his arm. “Let Jack be if he wishes to express his dislike of Captain Rogers, that is on him. Not for you to fight everyone who sees’s fit to voice their negative opinion.”

Not that she didn’t want to sock Jack in the jaw for that comment. Bucky’s death had torn through Steve, it ripped out any part of him that remained human, that clung to humanity. He was a changed man from that day on. He was reckless, rash, and only survived because she interveined and made him see that he was human, serum, or not. 

Bucky grunted as he sat back on the log and shoved his half-eaten bowl of stew at Peggy’s feet. “Eat. I ain’t hungry. I’m gonna go take a piss and set up for the first watch.”

There was no point in arguing. Jack had sullied what had almost promised to be a relaxing night [as relaxing as they could get in this environment]. She laid out her bedroll after being sure the surrounding area was clear. She almost hoped she could see Steve. Almost. 

“If Barnes is alive, any chance of Rogers being alive?” She heard Rameriz whisper to Li as her head laid on the pillow. 

“A crash like that? There’s no tellin’. Barnes was extremely lucky but I dunno...fall from that height? You’ve seen the tracks…”

Their voices faded as Peggy listened to the sound of footsteps near her. She opened her eyes to see Bucky above her, thanking him as he laid an extra blanket over her before silently nodding and dawning his rifle. She would argue with him over him getting rest later, right now, she was exhausted and selfishly wanted to sleep.

--

In the morning, a fresh wave of snow had covered any tracks that surrounded the camp. It blanketed around them and put out their fire in the middle of the night. Despite the fresh snow, Peggy could see faint outlines of thick boots that stood near her bedroll and as she sat up, waking up before anyone else in the dark forest, she felt something heavier fall off of her than just the extra blanket.

A thick jacket that was too big for Bucky and even Dugan.

Steve had been by.

Unfortunately, the new jacket didn’t bypass anyone, not even a blurry-eyed Thompson. 

“Whose coat is that?” He grumbled to her as they packed their bags for the mission ahead. “I didn’t see anyone wearin’ that last night.”

“It’s mine,” Jones grunted, passing Peggy to take the extra layer from her shoulders with a small nod from her. “Does it matter, Agent?”

“No,” the man grunted, a frown still on his lips. She knew what he was thinking - she was far too comfortable with the Commandos. When they got back to the office, this would bite her in the ass, she was sure of it, not that it stops her. “Just curious, is all. Not like Carter to wear a man’s coat. Thought it might’ve been her sweetheart.”

Peggy made a face, throwing her bag harder than necessary over Thompson’s shoulder and towards the pile they made for the jeeps. “The only sweetheart I have is my gun, Agent. Now if you’re done worrying about my lack of love life, we need to get moving if we want to use the snow to cover our tracks.”

“Don’t blame me, you’re the topic of gossip when it comes to office blabber,” he snickered, raising his hands in mock defeat even when Peggy rolled her eyes.

“If you must know,” Montgomery spoke up as Peggy stalked away to join Dugan and Bucky pouring over a map. “She’s all our sweethearts. Try having that for Valentine’s Day.” His wink didn’t go unnoticed nor did Peggy slapping his hand away and arguing with Bucky over an advantage point.

Jack huffed out in annoyance. This was his lead and Commandos or not, he was taking back control.

--

Peggy could feel the tension building up in her jaw, resisting the urge to rub at it. She could feel it twitching out of tension from clenching her jaw so tightly her teeth might snap in half. It was the only way she could distract herself from not wanting to yell at Jack who ‘stepped up to the captain’s plate’ and started to give orders.

Any argument had been instantly shut down with the argument that he was in charge, reminding Peggy of an older kid in charge of his little siblings. Any argument was useless when Jack was determined that he was right and they were wasting precious time.

“Barnes, keep a distance with that gun. Carter, you’re in the rear. Keep a lookout.”

The order made her roll her eyes at the back of Jack’s head. No matter how much he tried to take control of the situation, to put on his best I’m in charge voice, he was no Steve and had very little regard for people’s safety. Just the end task ahead of getting them in and out with the Doctor in tow. 

It was a bad idea, but fine, if he wanted to stick her in the back to keep out of his hair, then she’d easily take this opportunity to keep away from him. Dugan and Jack lead them and despite Bucky was somewhere in the trees pretending to be a spider monkey, Jones fell into step beside her. Despite his larger size than her, he was quiet. He was the more reserved out of all of them.

“You could stay,” he mused softly, nodding his head to Dugan’s bowler cap. “We could always do with you back in our lead. Especially that one. God knows Steve misses you, Pegs. You’re much better off here than with these jackasses.”

A small smile twitched on Peggy’s pale lips, adjusting her hold on the gun. “I know, Gabe, thank you. I do miss you guys. It’s not against you or even Steve, I am needed back on stateside. Maybe I’ll consider the offer another time.”

He laughed, the laugh rumbling in his chest like promised thunder. “Perhaps that is best, hm? Steve needs to rest anyhow and if you were with us, he’d be far too worried about you, no matter how much he denies it.”

Peggy’s reply was lost to the sound of something falling in the forest. Something heavy. James. “Bucky!”

There’s no way Bucky could miss these branches, they practically made a sturdy bridge. He had sure enough footing but the sound of a bullet whizzing past her was enough to tell her he’d been shot at. “Gabe, disperse the others. Spread out. They’re-” She looked up when another flew past her, seeing movement in the trees. “They’re spread out. Treetops. Below. Take cover. I’m going after James.”

There was no point in arguing with her, the Commandos knew that well. She slid in the snow to avoid the flying bullets, using the shelter of the thick trunks to get to where the figure laid. He was breathing, grunting in that manner that told her he was in pain but he was alive. 

“James,” she breathed, dropping to her knees. “Hey, hey, look at me. Can you walk? We need to get out of here.”

The man’s eyes were glazed over, most likely a concussion but he was no stranger to those. He nodded his head and moved to sit up, moving his left arm to grab at the gun. They both watched as it just twitched, the arm not responding to his movements. In the limited light of the rising sun, she saw the nasty break in his arm and his green complexion.

“If you vomit on me, James, I will be very cross with you. I’m going to splint this best I can with what we have, then we need to move. You can curse me out on the way, deal?”

She’d take that grunting as a yes.

Using the strap from both her gun and Bucky’s, cut with a knife, she placed his broken arm between two sturdy pieces of branches. It wouldn’t do for a permanent fix but it was better than nothing. Bucky did his best not to curse or shout in pain, hearing him whimper and gag. By the time she was done, he looked like he was about to vomit up their cold breakfast. Throwing his good arm over her shoulder, she steadied his weight to lead them into the denser forest.

“Carter! Where the hell have you been?!”

Jack almost seemed worried, but Peggy didn’t have time to consider it, dropping Bucky down on an overturned log. She was sweaty and pissed, worried. The bullets had stopped coming. That never stopped unless ordered to. They’d been found. This was going to make it all the more difficult.

“Getting Barnes before we let him die from your carelessness. His arm is broken. Dugan, any casualties?” She breathed a sigh of relief when the man shook his head. “Good. They’re still out there. How long have they been quiet?”

Jack’s jaw gritted as he looked down at his watch. “Three, four minutes now. Why?”

“I’m going to handle them before they expose us any more. We’ll be lucky if we’re not met with retaliation at the door.” Snatching her gun back, Peggy stood up, taking Bucky’s and laying it in his lap. “You’re still a decent shot even without your arm.”

She got maybe two yards away, returning to the trail before Jack ran up to her.

Jack’s hand snatched her rifle from her, his temple throbbing now. “You will not! That’s exposing yourself and us to danger, letting them know we’re holed up here. We don’t even know where we are, we ran off the trail because of them. We need to spread back out, find the trail. We’re sitting ducks.”

“All the more reason for me to go into the trees, Agent.” 

Peggy tried to snatch her gun back, a bullet striking the trunk next to her head. Her breath lingered in the air for a split second, jerking her head back out of shock. She pushed Jack out of the way when she heard the next one, preparing to feel another bullet tear through her body. Her eyes closed, body tensed, but no pain came.

Her eyes opened when she heard the gasps, seeing a familiar figure dressed in a dark blue suit and holding up the end of a shield. He towered over her, using his larger body to shield her from the spray of bullets.

“Everyone out!” Steve snapped, waving his hand. “Agent Thompson, get your ass off of the ground and help Pinky with those explosives. One stray bullet and we don’t have to worry about who’s in charge. Dugan, Jones, get Bucky and get him on his feet. Dugan, give him a splash of your liquid courage. Buck, three, six, and nine o’clock, are the worst of our fire. I’ve taken most of what I could out. Morita, Montgomery, and Juniper, you get these SSR boys further in the woods. Thanks to your little leadership, Agent Thompson we will now have to wait for nightfall and pray we’re not found.”

If anyone had any questions about his skills, to what Steve wanted, no one questioned it. Everyone instantly charged into action.

Steve’s arm wrapped around Peggy’s waist, holding her close for a fraction of a second too long as he set her back on her feet. “You were hit,” he murmured, baby blue eyes that she’s forgotten how soft they were looking down at her shoulder. “Grazed.” He touched the wound and she flinched, having been unaware a bullet had been that close to her torso. “I’m fine, Steve. I can handle it once we can breathe.” She paused, watching Dugan pick Bucky up and raise the rifle in his direction before firing. They made a good team, odd, but good.

“We need to get going too, can’t be on Thompson’s bad side, now can I?” Steve mused, raising his brow in a way that told Peggy he didn’t care regardless. “I got my bike. We can lead them on a wild goose chase while they escape. You ready?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

--

“He’s alive?” 

The words were spat at her when she’d later arrived at their makeshift camp miles and miles into the dense forest. Peggy calmly dismounted from the bike with Steve’s help even if she didn’t need it. She wanted the excuse to feel his hand in hers while she ignored Jack’s bulging look.

“Thank you, Captain Rogers, for the assistance and ride,” Peggy hummed giving Steve a polite nod and a firm smile. She turned back to Jack while he started to unpack the bike, rolling her eyes. “Unless we are suffering from the same hallucination, then I will dare say that yes, he is alive. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get this wound looked at.”

At least the man had enough sense to let her brush by him, still standing and looking after her and Steve in shock.

Steve was ever the gentleman as he rolled Peggy’s sleeve down, enough for her to pull her arm out of the sleeve. It was cold in their little spot in the dense woods, not wanting to risk lighting a fire. Bucky was already asleep despite the rough ground beneath them, his head in Pinky’s lap. His arm was set in a better-made splint, but still rough for their situation. 

“This is going to burn,” Steve murmured, pouring a little alcohol on her wound. She hissed in pain and ignored the looks she and Steven were getting. This was strictly professional despite how she was straining to not jump his bones right then and there. “I warned you.”

“Seconds before pouring,” she huffed. “Though, I suppose a little pain is needed to be kept in my senses.” 

If Steve had anything to say, it was lost to Jack coming back into camp and sitting beside Li. He rubbed his hands together, blowing hot air between them. “It’s going to be a cold one,” he grunted. “We’ll need to watch in shifts, two per shift, we-”

“We’ve already planned that,” Dugan grunted, his mustache ruffled as he tossed his bowler hat on their bags. Or what was left of them. “Pinky and Li are taking the first shift while we all rest. Yes, that includes you, Steve.” He pointed his thick finger threateningly at Steve’s chest who just pouted at him. “You need to sleep. Pegs, tell him.”

“Yeah, Carter,” Ramirez snickered, “tell him.”

Rolling her sleeve back up and adjusting the gauze, she thanked Steve in a small voice. “Captain Rogers isn’t a child. He doesn’t need to be told what to do but if you’d like my advice, Captain, sleep while you can.” Her eyes told him the rest before I make you. 

She wanted to comment on his appearance, the rugged stubble from his lack of shaving, the longer hair that was starting to sweep off of his forehead. His eyes looked almost hallow, black bags underneath causing the blue to stand out. He looked like complete shit, a hallow version of himself and it ached at Peggy’s heart. 

“This stays between us,” Steve grunted to the SSR boys while their bedrolls were rolled out. “No one else needs to know I’m alive.”

“Did you rescue him?” Li asked, in awe, if not astonished whisper as he turned to look at Peggy. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“That’s above your pay grade,” she snapped back, watching Steve kneel by Bucky’s passed out form and tenderly hold his face in hands that seemed almost far too big. She wanted to say more, the more pity part of her that wanted to dig her elbow into the man’s chest and tell him she shouldn’t have to be involved with his hero to have some decent respect. 

“Hm,” Jack grunted from where he slouched against an overturned log, “I can see who was on top in this relationship.”

--

It was clear Jack wore a chip on his shoulder. He had some resentment out for Steve and maybe that’s because he favored her, despite how he tried not to show it. He turned to look at Peggy for advice, not Jack who was once again trying to say he was in charge. He asked Peggy about the situation or would ask Dugan or Li, literally anyone but Jack unless he had to.

This little petty game kept up for two days where they traveled under the cover of night. 

Steve had kept his distance as they planned, but they couldn’t help it when the Howlies left just enough room in their camps to sit side by side or when it was Peggy’s turn to take a watch, Steve would find himself awake even if it wasn’t his turn to watch with her. Or his bedroll would be close to hers. They’d find small ways to touch one another and even that got under Jack’s skin.

Due to Bucky being out of commission thanks to the broken arm, it was left up to Peggy. No one objected but Jack’s temple throbbed as Peggy easily took the rifle and lined herself up with a perfect shot of their guard. She silently laid on a few sharp and frozen rocks that were set above them, stomach pressed to the ground and breathing slowly.

One snide comment from Li or Jack had gotten to her, but not her aim. The bullet flew from the rifle and the man guarding the roof fell into a heap. Steve’s hand closed around hers as she was guided off of the icy rocks, the snow crunching underneath her feet. 

“Nice!” Bucky breathed, shrugging the left shoulder. “Though, you still twitch your foot when you’re about to pull the trigger.”

“I’ll show you where I twitch my foot if you start that,” Peggy snapped, much to Bucky’s grinning face. “Satisfied?”

The last words were said to Jack, his nose wrinkled just ever so slightly as if to say let’s see. 

“Everyone has their plan then?” Steve grunted, looking down at the map. “Three teams. Li, Jones, Montgomery, and Bucky to the west end. Double-check the boiler rooms, any nooks, and cranny. Juniper, Peggy, Pinky, Morita, and Ramirez to the east. Spread out. The rooms look to be larger and some have hidden doorways. Jack, Dugan, and I will take the top floors. We’ll meet in the middle in an hour. Jones, Peggy, and I have our radios, use it only if in trouble.”

“Yeah, Dugan, only if in trouble,” Morita laughed, elbowing the broad man. “Not when we think we’re hearing screaming.”

At Li’s confusing look, Dugan rolled his eyes. His cheeks flushed a soft pink. “It was a frog that I heard. Cap, can we go?”

Peggy caught Steve’s eyes as he rolled up the map. There was no bother hiding the fact that he did this on purpose, separating them to just get alone time with Jack. She raised an eyebrow at him and he sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.

“Steve, let’s go,” Bucky grunted, smacking Steve on the side with the splint and regretting it with a whimper. 

Pinky’s arm threw around Peggy’s shoulder as their groups dispersed, leaning far too much into her frame. Not that she minded. Pinky always had a lingering smell of gunpowder on his fingers. “How much you wanna bet he’s gonna make Jack’s death look like an accident?”

“If Steve isn’t rash? He won’t. But then again...I’m afraid he’s never made a not-so-rashed decision in his life.”

--

Watching the love of your life fall to the floor in front of you seconds after he’s sacrificed himself yet another time to save you changes a person. There’s no radio this time. No radio, no signal blocking them, no interference, no cut-off, and left wondering. She’s staring down at Steve, her heart in her throat. It all happened in a split second, but the second he hits the floor, she’s in action. 

A hand is tearing off the bottom of her uniform, pressing it over the bleeding wound where the bullet has embedded itself into Steve’s thigh

He groans at the contact and grits his teeth. “Is this revenge from the alcohol?”

“You wish,” Peggy grunts, keeping her eyes focused on the bleeding wound. She steadied her breathing despite the anxiety welling up inside of her. She wanted a second chance at keeping Steve safe and god damnit, she was going to take it. 

The forces of God would not take Steve from her. She’d be damned if they did.

“Dugan,” she snapped into the radio. “We need to extract. Now.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of thundering steps, snatching Steve’s discarded shield to block his body, still pressing on the wound with all her might. She’d never thought she’d be so relieved to see Jack’s pale face. The man looked sick.

“You-you-shit.” His eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the sight of the bloodied rags in Peggy’s hand. “Carter, you’re hurt.”

“No,” she huffed. “But Steve is.”

“Fuck.” As if that was somehow worst and yeah, she had to agree it was, even if Steve wasn’t agreeing with it. He was still gritting his teeth and trying to sit up, trying to catch his breath.

“Come here, alright? I need you to put pressure on his wounds.” The guy was in shock and any amount of distraction to keep his hands busy was better than him standing in shock.

With Jack putting pressure on Steve’s wound and the Captain finally stopping his fight, Peggy got back on the radio. She was starting to become frantic, watching Steve’s face pale and Jack was starting to fluster. “Dum-Dum if you don’t answer me right this instant - Steve is hurt. We need extra-”

Her answer came in typical Howling Commando fashion - an explosion on the far wall. The ground shook beneath her, the ceiling threatened to cave in right in that instance. Everyone was piled into the back of the jeep, a crowd of people rushing forward to help her get Steve up to his good foot and rush him back towards the jeep.

“Get Jack,” she snapped at Pinky. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. He’s in shock - have Montgomery give him those tabs.” 

Getting a groaning Steve laid out on the floor of the jeep, Peggy laid Steve’s head in her lap. She didn’t give a damn who saw. She was tired, grungey, sick to her stomach with worry for the shivering Captain.

The fact he wasn’t speaking, arguing with her told her the amount of pain he was in. 

Bucky and Jones were already on the wound, Steve’s face pinching as his pants were ripped open.

“Steve,” Peggy whispered, stroking her hand through her hair with a soft smile. “Look at me.” Her hand cupped his jawline, the pad of her thumb stroking a scar he’d earned from a shaving incident a few years ago. His blue eyes fell on hers, gritting his teeth and holding her hand when Jones started to dig the bullet out.

“This is r-revenge for...for something,” he grunted, gripping the floor of the jeep tightly. “Fuck, you coulda just talked to me, Pegs.”

Peggy chuckled, only to keep herself from crying. Stress. The strain on them. She was thankful when the jeep emptied once they’d reached their pickup point. An abandoned airport where a plane waited for them. 

“Sometimes it’s easier to let others talk for me.” She bent her head down, pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s lips. His felt so cold against hers. 

Hearing a clearing of a throat, she looked beyond the pair at Steve’s feet, to Jack. He was still pale and shaken, but there was life back to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I didn’t see anything,” he mumbled. “I was just warning you that wheels up in ten.” He hesitated around the jeep, frowning before he was gone.

“Want me to go hunt him down?” Bucky grunted, pulling back from Steve’s bloodied thigh with alcohol in hand. “For sport?”

A fond smile tugged on Peggy’s lips. There was that Big Brother Barnes quality. “As much as that would solve many of my problems, darling, I can handle myself. Jones, you heard the man, what’s the verdict on Steve’s leg?”

Gabe’s small smile tugged on his lips as he pulled back, wrapping the gauze tighter around the wound. “You’re...rather lucky, Steve. There’s no permanent damage, but given your exhaustion and our lack of supplies, you will be slow to heal. You should head back stateside to get some proper R&R, have the wound properly treated. We did what we could, but no promises.” He clicked his tongue, his fingers pointing to Bucky’s chest. “And you are going with him. You got a broken arm.”

Bucky’s full lips pulled into a pout but underneath it, Peggy could see him vibrating. “What a shame that I broke my arm from a jackass’s decision.”

“Are you sure you guys can afford to lose them?” Peggy asked, gently laying Steve back down as she climbed out of the back. “We can send extra men to make up for them.”

“If you staid we wouldn’t need to worry about it,” Dugan mused, tapping on the side of the jeep. “But you’re needed elsewhere to keep those jerks in line. And make sure this one doesn’t try to run a marathon through Brooklyn on that leg.”

“Not much of a runner,” Steve grunted, letting himself be pulled up. He set his weight on his good leg, letting Jones and Dugan pull him to his feet. 

As Steve was being put onto the plane, Peggy heaved a soft sigh as she turned back to Dugan. The hug from him was everything she missed - the bear hug that reminded her some things were worth savoring. Pulling away, he patted her cheek and grinned under that thick mustache.

“You keep our boys in line, won’t you? We can’t lose ‘em again,” he grumbled, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “And keep yourself safe. We’ll get to the bottom of this. We’re just one call away, Pegs.”

“Of course I will,” she mused. “Someone needs to. And thank you, Dugan. You’re a life savior. Literally. I’ll miss you.”

Sitting back between Steve and Bucky, Peggy could feel like she could breathe for the first time in a while. Steve was going to be okay. He might need longer rest than others, but he’d be okay. Dugan was wiring the information to Phillips as they spoke. Her head rested against the wall, feeling Steve’s hand tighten in hers in his light slumber. Against her shoulder, Bucky was snoring. 

“Marge.” Her name made her eyes open to see Jack in front of her. Her body tensed, coiled, and posed, ready to fight because her boys were in her lap and exhausted, hurt. What more could he want? 

“Yes, Agent Thompson? I was hoping we could get some shut-eye before we touched land.”

“I won’t keep you long. You’re...busy.” His eyes fell to Steve, watching the man’s face twitch in her lap. “I wanted to thank you for...assisting me back there. Any other person would’ve left me to my own devices, especially after the decisions I’ve made. You didn’t, you were the bigger person and I’m...thankful.”

Well, that’s the last thing Peggy expected to hear from Jack’s lips. An apology and him expressing how thankful he was for her? Well, that was rare. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to die because you were in shock. I’m glad you’re okay.”

His head bobbed, Steve grunting making him flinch slightly. He still wasn’t 100% okay. “I’ll leave you to it. What I saw...I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good,” Peggy huffed, letting her head rest on the wall and close her eyes. “Because I’d hate to have to kill you because you decided to be stupid.”

[alirhi]

I can't believe I'm doing this lol...

I might throw up. I almost never post the stuff I write just for me. I'll occasionally send a funny chunk to a friend or whatever, but not open myself up to public scrutiny. I'm aware I've said all this before lol but bear with me, okay?

It's lazy writing (as is... literally all of my fanfiction XD) but I feel like it's coming out fairly decent for what it is, so I thought I'd share a little bit. If you hate it or aren't interested, just ignore it, 'kay? if for some reason you don't hate it, lmk. there's more

Pairing: Sebastian Stan/author (hey, can't say you weren't warned. yes, it's self-insert) Warnings: 18+. I will always mark my writing 18+ even if it never gets explicit. Adult themes, smut is mentioned (but no, not explicit), Seb does something dumb and OOC for him but it served my purpose so whatever XD

After arriving in Manhattan - and eventually finding a place to park; fuck, she hated New York! - she'd ducked into a Starbucks to collect herself and psych herself up a bit. Instead, she was psyching herself out. This was the dumbest, craziest idea she'd ever had, in a thirty-plus-year string of dumb and crazy ideas. This was never going to work. She was never even going to find him! There were millions of people crammed into this putrid petri dish of humanity. There was absolutely no chance she would-

For fuck's sake, was that really him?! Ever vigilant as a lone woman in unfamiliar surroundings, she'd taken a seat in the far corner of the shop, facing the front door. She wasn't looking for anyone in particular, not in here; she was simply making damn sure no one could come up behind her. Still, her position gave her a perfect view of most of the room, and especially the door. Her eyes widened as she watched a very familiar figure in a blue baseball cap enter and head for the counter.

As he neared, she got a clear look at his handsome face, and her heart felt like it suddenly stopped. Yep. That was him. Sebastian fucking Stan had just walked into this random-ass Starbucks she'd only come into to get out of the overwhelming bustle and noise of the city so she could think. She knew he lived somewhere in Manhattan, but wasn't Manhattan rather...large? It was certainly daunting to drive through; all of NYC was.

"Hey."

She flinched, blinking rapidly as she realized that not only had she been staring, but her eyes had dried out. "Hi."

Sebastian smiled, glanced around the busy shop, and asked somewhat tentatively, "Mind if I join you? Just til my coffee's ready."

Like she would say 'no' to anything this man asked of her! With a soft smile she hoped looked less nervous than she felt, she moved her bag off the other chair and gestured. "Of course. And you don't have to leave right away, unless you have somewhere to be. I don't bite." Jesus, that was smoother than she'd ever thought herself capable of! Where the fuck had that come from?!

His smile widened as he sat down, sharp blue eyes never leaving her face. She hoped she wasn't blushing. "Thanks. I don't actually have anywhere to be; I just got home."

"How was LA?" At his look of surprise, she flashed him a wry smile. "I can't just sit here and pretend not to know who you are. It feels creepy and manipulative."

Laughing and making her feel like her heart would burst with joy, Sebastian shrugged and nodded. "I appreciate that. And I really appreciate you treating me like a normal person."

"If you were a normal person," she teased, "I'd have told you to fuck off. I don't trust attractive men; they're usually narcissistic douche bags."

"I can't tell if you're calling me ugly or a douche bag."

She laughed, grateful for the playful glint in his eyes that showed her he wasn't actually offended. "Neither! I'm just saying, if I hadn't seen clips of you on youtube being all awkward and sweet, I'd be afraid to let you near me. You're way too gorgeous." With a wink that made him laugh, she added, "You're in your own separate category."

"So that's how you categorize all the men of the world?" He grinned, nudging her foot with his own. "Ugly, jerks, or awkward?"

"It's actually even more general than that. In my experience all humans are either ugly inside or ugly outside." Smile softening from mocking to a sort of wistful fondness, she told him, "From what you've shown the world, you're neither. Makes me wonder if you're even human sometimes."

"You caught me." Sebastian laughed again, joking even as he stood to get his coffee, "I'm an alien."

"So that's why you're so in love with space! Homesick?"

"Yeah, I guess so!" She loved how freely he laughed, and when he invited her to leave the crowded café and go for a walk with him, she readily agreed. "So what's your deep, dark secret?"

She blinked, staring at him. "What do you mean?"

His mischievous grin made her heart race and heat pool somewhere she didn't want to be thinking about with him standing right next to her. "You torture puppies, or are you an alien?"

He was calling her beautiful. The second she got the joke, she could feel her face turning bright red and she giggled, hastily looking away. "I definitely don't torture puppies."

"So you're an alien."

She could feel him looming over her as they both stopped and moved over to let other pedestrians move around them. Though she was afraid to, she forced herself to look up and was immediately entranced by those captivating blue eyes. "Maybe I'm a fairy."

"You're certainly pretty enough to be."

"Fucking hell, Sebastian, if you get any closer to me I will not be held responsible for what I do to you." She smirked, trying to lighten the mood and take the charge out of the air between them before she made too much of an ass out of herself. "Even with the coffee breath."

He laughed, but the tension didn't dissipate. If anything, the charge and the heat between them only increased. "Maybe you should put something else in my mouth, then."

Damn, this man could flirt! She accidentally knocked the hat off his head as she got a grip on that luscious dark hair and tugged him closer; he didn't seem to notice. He set his coffee down on a nearby window ledge. One hand cupping her jaw and the other grabbing her ass, he yanked her tight against him and thoroughly plundered her mouth with that long tongue she'd spent months fantasizing about. He did taste like coffee, which was a little off-putting - she'd bought a bottle of water in Starbucks; she hated coffee - but she didn't even care. The most perfect man in the universe was holding her tight and kissing her breathless, and she wasn't about to let anything ruin this moment.

Someone else ruined the moment when they cleared their throat. When she saw she had their attention, the fidgeting girl held Sebastian's cap out to him in a slightly shaking hand. "Sorry... Is this your hat?"

Finally realizing they were out in public in broad daylight, the pair sprang apart with awkward chuckles. Sebastian thanked the girl and crammed the fallen hat back onto his head, took a selfie with her when he realized she knew who he was, and sent her on her way. "That moment's gonna be all over the internet."

A nervous giggle bubbled up from her chest, somehow making it past where her pounding heart was lodged in her throat. "Hopefully just the selfie." His cynical scoff caught her off guard and she flinched, glancing around. "I hate that paparazzi shit. No one has any right to be taking pictures of you that you don't consent to and pose for, just like no one should be spreading details about you or your life that you didn't make public, yourself."

The look he gave her then was strange; almost as if he was calculating, or trying to read her. Unsure what that was all about, she simply looked right back at him, being as open as she could. Apparently reaching a decision, he told her softly, "I live like two blocks away."

That seemed random to her. She shrugged, offering him a slightly perplexed smile. "Okay...? That explains why you go to that Starbucks, I guess."

Sebastian laughed and hooked his arm around her waist, tugging her down the sidewalk. "You're adorable. And I'm trusting your adorable ass not to tell anyone."

...Oh. Eyes so wide they hurt, she stared up at him as he guided her down the street. He was taking her back to his place?! The more logical part of her brain was flabbergasted by the idea of this man just casually bringing a total stranger home, while the rest of her was just eager to get him behind closed doors and tear his clothes off. Obviously, the primitive, horny part of her brain won by a landslide, and she didn't say a word.

She noticed that Sebastian was chugging his iced coffee as they walked, and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He was going to have to pee so bad when they got to his apartment. Plus, she'd seen him hyped up on caffeine; it was hilarious.

"Make yourself comfortable," he told her as he closed the door behind them, already making a hasty beeline through the place. "I'll be right back."

Yup. She snickered as she settled on the edge of the couch. Straight to the bathroom. She tried not to fidget as she glanced around, but his apartment was just so sterile. Aside from the books on his desk, it didn't even look like anyone lived here, really. The blank white walls hurt her eyes and were starting to set off her anxiety; she dropped her gaze to the sofa and felt the tension ooze out of her muscles as her overactive brain took in the soothing dark gray color of it and slowly relaxed. At least he had a thing for dark furniture.

"You look so rigid all of a sudden."

She shrugged, glancing up at him. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I mean, I think I know why you brought me here, but..."

Oh gods, and there was that soft, kind smile she'd only ever seen in pictures. It, like the rest of him, was so much more beautiful in person. "Having second thoughts?"

More like first thoughts. "Aren't you? You don't know me; literally the only thing you know about me is that I know you're famous."

"And that you're a cynical introvert," he told her with a grin, settling on the couch beside her. "And that you're respectful of boundaries. That all seemed like a pretty good start to me. Hey-" He nudged her, making her smile. "Alien to fairy, I didn't bring you here to push you into anything. Pretty sure that would push me right into the douche bag category."

Giggling a little, she shook her head. "Nope. I'm too big a fan to ever think that about you. You can do no wrong in my eyes, alien."

"Hey, even aliens can make mistakes or do some fucked up shit. I mean, have you seen Independence Day?"

She laughed outright at that, poking his side. "Fair enough. But I somehow doubt that you're planning a genocide, so..."

"Nope." He shook his head, still grinning impishly. "No genocide on my calendar. Just hanging out with this beautiful, really cool fairy I met at a Starbucks today. Maybe satisfying her every carnal desire before she leaves, if she's up for it... Maybe just talking for a while or watching a movie. We'll see."

She could feel her face heating up again, but when Sebastian leaned in for a kiss, she eagerly let him. That was when it finally dawned on her that his mad dash for the bathroom had actually been to brush his teeth. He'd taken her coffee breath joke to heart and sucked his drink down so he could kiss her with minty fresh breath. Gods, he was so sweet it hurt!

That settled it in her mind; anxiety be damned. If he wanted it, there was no way this man wasn't getting laid. How many men would go this far out of their way to make a total stranger more comfortable when he shoved his tongue down her throat?

"What do you want," he whispered against her lips, stroking her hair, "my pretty red fairy?"

"All of it." She pulled him back with her as she stretched out on the couch, biting her lip when he automatically settled between her long legs. "Whatever you're willing to give."

"Tap out any time," he assured her as he reached under her dress, fingers dancing feather-light up her thigh. "I promise I won't be a dick about it."

"Same for you, gorgeous." With a slightly evil smirk, she rolled them over and straddled him, yanking her dress up and off. "I've been told I can be a little intense."

She squeaked before she could stop herself when he yanked her down with one strong hand on her back and drew a nipple into his mouth. She felt his tongue swirling against her flesh and shuddered, growing wetter by the second.

"I can handle it, princess." And then he was surging upright, and then to his feet, never releasing her from his grip. With her still clinging to him like a barnacle in nothing but her panties, he kissed her again and started heading toward the stairs. "But we're not fucking on my couch when there's a perfectly good bed right up there in the loft."

"Probably wise," she agreed with a giggle, tangling her fingers in his hair. "I'm already soaked. Wouldn't wanna ruin the infamous couch."

Sebastian groaned, but he was grinning. "Oh, don't bring him up now, girl!"

"Your couch is a dude?" She could tell he knew she was joking, but the glint in his eyes promised retribution if she didn't drop it... And then he dropped her like a sack of potatoes onto his bed, and she shrieked, startled.

From there, the day passed by in a blur. They cuddled and talked for hours, they paused once or twice for food, and, of course, they fucked like rabbits. She quickly learned that there was nothing Sebastian wasn't fucking amazing at. Typically, she was the quiet type in bed, but there were moments this talented bastard had her nearly screaming. The things this man could do with that tongue alone...!

But the moments she cherished were the quiet ones. When one or both of them needed a break and they would just lie there in each other's arms, and she could hear his pounding heart and knew he could feel hers. Once their breathing became less labored, they would begin to speak; voices low, as if afraid to shatter the silence and bring the outside world crashing down on them. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing past hurts never forgotten, and secret desires, dreams they were afraid to chase or simply knew were forever out of their reach. By the time night fell, she'd lost count of how many times one or both of them had broken and dissolved into tears in the other's embrace.

"You're so easy to talk to," he murmured once, the teary smile she couldn't see in the dark audible in his soft voice. "I know it's dumb, but I feel like I can trust you."

"You can," she was quick to assure him, kissing his jaw and loving the way his stubble rasped against her skin. "Nothing leaves this space, Sebastian. Anything you tell me stays right here. I promise."

He flinched then, as if suddenly remembering something, and nearly dislodged her. She settled herself more comfortably on his chest and waited. "You still haven't told me your name." They both laughed at that, and she felt a hot blush creeping up her face. Thank the gods it was dark. "I've just been calling you random pet names all day."

"Princess and Kitten were my favorites," she told him with a grin, licking his nipple. "But if you must know... My name is Ali."

"Ali." The way he said her name made her shiver, and then he was on her again and her last semi-coherent thought was holy shit, does this man ever run out of energy? Not that she was complaining.

In the end, they both fell asleep before she could even think about the long drive home ahead of her, much less the astronomical parking fee she'd be facing... or the reason she had actually come to New York in the first place.

[greenygreenland]

If I Were You: Fives x Reader Pt 2

-pt two. Here’s part 1

Summary: It’s been half a month since Fives first appeared in your room. He’s settled into your home because he knows there’s no way of getting home. Everything is peaceful, and you find comfort in each other. Your parents come home today, and you have to find out a way to hide him from them Warnings: Borderline abuse (very brief), mentions of abuse/violence, pressure from school, COVID-19 mentions, swearing

“--and then I slug him in the jaw and he’s so shocked that he can’t move!” You shake your head as Fives continues reminiscing about a short run-in with some ‘Separatist scum’. You can’t say it’s not entertaining when you yourself absolutely despise the Seps for what they’ve done during the Clone Wars. The guy definitely deserved it. Fives continues on for a while, telling his favourite stories about the 501st as he sips on the juice you’d given him earlier.

You eventually decide to move to the living room, where it’s much more comfortable than the kitchen. Picking up the remote and flopping down on the couch, you turn on the TV.

It’s still mesmerizing to Fives. He’s seen you scroll through Disney Plus, Netflix, and Hulu so many times, yet he can’t get over the amount of shows available. Sure, there was the holonet back at home, but that couldn’t ever compare to the media here. Everything was in colour, and it wasn’t as bulky as a holoprojector. 

Suddenly, you pause, hovering over the show Star Wars the Clone Wars. It’s written in giant blocky letters in yellow, so it catches Fives’s eye rather quickly. “Is that the show I’m in?” he lightly inquires. There’s a cold sensation in his gut, but he ignores it. You nod, mindlessly clicking on it. “I grew up with this show. It’s taught me more about life than anything else, really. When I was in a pretty bad place it helped me pull through.” 

There’s a soft smile on your face that Fives admires more than anything in the galaxy. It’s like an invisible warm hug, and it engulfs him in an overwhelming amount of happiness. A loud fanfare of...something (he’s never really known any instruments) bombards his ears, and he’s turning to the screen so fast that he could have given himself whiplash. 

Admiral Yularen’s voice fills the quiet space. He has to restrain himself from straightening up because it’s just a show. But that’s when something happens. He catches sight of himself on screen, saluting to his Captain and General. The screen freeze for a second, and it ripples like a hologram. The image of himself disappears, and then the TV goes static, flashing in a mixture of blues, grays, blacks, and greens. 

“This can’t be good.” he says, mostly to himself. You glare at the screen, randomly pushing the buttons on the remote as if it’d fix everything. It doesn’t and you know this, but you continue anyway as Fives’s gaze darts from you to the TV. A short sigh escapes your lips. “My parents are going to--” 

You freeze, cutting yourself off as a familiar rumble catches your ear. Fives hops to his feet as you drop the remote, silently making his way to the window just above the driveway. You follow him as he takes a peek behind the curtains. It’s silent for a moment and you know you hadn’t been mistaken. 

“(Y/n), are these your parents?”

“Dank ferrick.” 

Fives looks surprised at your colourful answer before smirking to himself. That’s soon wiped off his face as the front door knob begins to jiggle. You both lock gazes, eyes wide in terror. “You have to hide!” You turn off the TV and frantically knot your hand in his. And suddenly, you’re practically flying up the stairs with Fives in tow. You didn’t even know you could run that fast, but maybe that was because you knew your ‘fight or flight’ had been activated. 

You throw open the door to your room and slam it behind as the front door opens. Fives is scurrying into the closet as you scramble to stuff whatever evidence of his existence into his arms. He tosses his sweaters, trousers, and shirts (you bought with your own money) as deep into your closet as he can. You flick off the lights and open your curtains wide. 

Fives shuts the closet door. You whip out your laptop and a few notes from your physics class, neatly spreading them on your desk along with a few highlighters and pens. 

“(Y/n)!”

That’s your mum. She sounds almost glad to see you. 

“(Y/n), come downstairs will you?” 

You turn on your laptop, flipping to Google Classroom as if your life depended on it--and it certainly did. Once it’s open, you stand from your desk and walk downstairs, putting on the brightest smile you can. “Hi mum!” you call. She smiles at you, covering up a cough as she removes her shoes. “I’m sorry we’ve been gone for so long. Your father’s been busy, and I couldn’t leave him in Chicago all by himself. You know how it can get there.”

The smile is wearing on your face and you know it. Your mum is a kind person, she’s always been, but because of that, she tries to hide her sickness from you. She’s been sick for a while, but she wouldn’t tell you why. Of course, that didn’t stop your father from telling you. He said it was cancer, but your mum replied with, ‘It’s the common cold’ instead. 

Speaking of your father, he emerged from the door. You didn’t need to look at him to know he wasn’t too happy. “Hi...dad.” you quietly say. Your mum puts a hand on your shoulder and that seems to bother him. “What are you doing down here? Go study. You’re not going to be a doctor if you aren’t persistent.” You frown in confusion. “I thought you wanted me to go to MIT--”

“You’d be more useful as a doctor than a mindless computer addict. Maybe if you had skipped a few grades, then you could have found a cure already.” You wanted to be offended, but a voice inside your head made you keep your cool. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if you fought fire with fire anyway. 

There is no emotion, there is peace, you think to yourself with a sigh. Your mum notices, and she gives your shoulder a good squeeze before beckoning you upstairs. You turn to her as she tensely smiles and comply, quietly going up the stairs. You hear someone flop down on the couch, probably your father, and ice shoots up your veins. 

Panic blinds you as you race up the last few steps and dart into your room like you were being chased by a lightsaber. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know what happened. You hear him shout your name and you lock the door behind you. Fives slowly opens the closet door. You can feel his worry as he frowns, and you can’t blame him. Your father sounds beyond angry. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought someone had robbed him. 

“(Y/N)!”

You visibly flinch and Fives decides it’s high time he comes out of hiding. He’s suddenly by your side, locking your hand in his. “You’re shaking.” You look down at your hand weaved between Fives’s fingers with a mindless shrug. “I’m,” your voice wobbles, “fine. It’s going to be fine. It’s--it’s fine. It’s fine.” 

“They’re not going to do anything to you, right?” Fives inquires. You meet his gaze with teary eyes. No words come out of your mouth, but he doesn’t need any to know what you’re thinking. 

The door rattles. You flinch at the shout from the other side, instinctively taking a step back as if it’d help you. “Fives, Fives...” You’re looking at him again, silently pleading for the help you didn’t even know you needed. You had always been alone. Always. No one had been by your side until Fives came along, and it’s then that you begin to realise how bad your situation is. 

He gives your hand a comforting squeeze that makes your knees go weak. “They can’t hurt you.” His tone is firm yet gentle. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” He makes his way to the door. It’s still rattling as he unlocks it, and then it bursts open as your father shouts again. The last time Fives had seen someone this angry was when the General had gone on that Zyggerian mission. The mere mention of the word ‘slave’ had sent the Jedi into an inferno anger that no one could calm. 

But this puny simpleton? 

His anger wasn’t as terrifying as his General’s. Fives couldn’t feel a single ounce of fear as he stared the taller man down. He looked about ready to murder Fives, but that wasn’t the least of his concerns. The man jabs a finger at his chest and Fives has to resist smacking it away. “So not only has my sad excuse of a daughter broken the TV, but also smuggled in a goddamn boy while we were gone!” 

You watch as your father raises his arm, recoiling to ready a punch. Your eyes widen, and you almost have the nerve to feel bad for him. It was never a smart idea to pick a fight with an ARC trooper--much less a soldier like Fives. 

Your father growls, “I’ll kill you both!”

It all happens too fast. Your father throws a punch, Fives catches it, and then it goes deathly quiet. He’s seething as your father trembles in his dark glare. “If this is how a family functions, I’m glad I only have my brothers.” The temperature seems to drop ten degrees with each word he stresses. “It doesn’t matter what happens, no one, and I mean no one should be treated like this. It’s downright abuse. I won’t stand for something so kriffing wrong.” 

This is a side of Fives you know but haven’t witnessed off-screen. He had been like this with Krell, and even though the situations varies from Umbara, his emotions aren’t any different. “Sure, the TV’s broken, but you haven’t even heard why it happened! What kind of father goes around and threatening to kill his own daughter?” 

Your father tries to storm past Fives, but he only tightens his grip on your father’s wrist. “Don’t try it.” 

Your father tries anyway. He whips out a knife--a knife-- and aims for Fives’s neck. Of course, Fives is quick--quicker than the shows give him justice. He dodges, swiping a leg under your father before pinning him down under his knee. The knife falls from your father’s hand and Fives is pulling both his arms behind his back. It’s not enough to hurt him, but it sure does scare him. “Let me go you fucking psycho! You’re gonna pay!” 

Fives looks like he wants to say anything, but he doesn’t, and you know it’s because he’s so baffled by your family dynamics. He hadn’t known any brothers who would do that, and he was glad too. “Oh I’m ‘gonna pay’? I think you’ll have fun taking that to the authorities. What number are you supposed to dial in these situations?” he inquires. 

“Let you go you goddamn--!”

“911.” you quietly answer. “But are you sure?” Fives nods and glances at your phone. You snatch it off the table, tapping the emergency call button and dialling the number. 

-------

Your mother stares at the police car as Fives shamelessly interlocks his fingers with yours. The cars drive away, the lights glimmering in the last light of day. You catch a glare from your father, hardening your stare on him until he begrudgingly turns away. Fives looks rather pleased, but there’s a hint of disturbance on his face. You know the mere idea of family against family riled him up, but he’s good at hiding it anyway and puts on a smile for you. 

Your mother walks up the front stairs of the house, arms crossed as if she’s hugging herself. She turns to you and Fives, briefly glancing at your interlocked fingers. You’re expecting her to say something. Instead, she studies your face and smiles. It’s a bit rough round the edges but full of so much love. 

“What is your name young man?” 

Fives glances at you before turning to your mum. “Fives, ma’am.”

“Fives?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She doesn’t know what to say, so she stays quiet for a moment. “Is there any way I can thank you?” He turns to you, and then your mum. You seem to know what he’s thinking and give his hand a squeeze in support. “Uh, if it’s not too much trouble, is it okay if I stay here ma’am?” 

“He doesn’t have any family in the area, and it’s not like he can go anywhere with the pandemic.” you smoothly elaborate. “Can he stay mum? Please?” 

Your mum smiles again as if she knows something you don’t. She has something in her pocket that she glances at before eyeing you and Fives. “Of course he can stay. After all, you two are made for each other.” You’re about to ask what your mum means by that, but she’s already walking back in the house. 

And so you look to Fives, who giddily smiles in reply. He knows there’s no turning back now. It’s not like he can return home anyway, which isn’t something he isn’t unhappy about. Without warning, he leans towards you, planting a kiss on your cherry, red lips. He pulls away rather quickly, cheeks red. “Wow, never done that before.” he nervously admits. You snort, ignoring the racing of your heart. “Why don’t we try that again?” 

After all, you two are made for each other.

You smile at your mum’s words and kiss him again. Your heart continues to slam against your chest, and you’re still not sure if you’re doing it right, but it doesn’t matter because you know you two were meant to be. 

PART 3

[brandstifter-sys]

Just Like Old Times

Word Count: 1698

Pairing: Dukexiety (other sides mentioned)

Rating: T+

Warnings: Sex mention, game grumps, food mention, death mention, svs pt2 spoilers

--------

Laying in bed after a stressful day was one of the best things Virgil could do. He could melt into his mattress and let all of the tension in his body go. But his mind was a different story. After surviving the wedding, he needed to find the right video or videos to distract him. Vines were out of the question, he needed something to really focus on that wouldn’t include Thomas. His mind would wander back to the wedding. He knew exactly what to pull up.

With his laptop open and youtube up, his shaky fingers danced over the keyboard. The light from the screen lit up his face as the video loaded, and then his face lit up. 

Yes, the Game Grumps. Their laughter and antics made him feel better. This episode was definitely a classic, Pokemon FireRed #28. He loved that bit and had to thank Ninja Brian if he ever met the guy.

Hey I’m Grump! I’m Not-so Grump! And we’re the Game Grumps!

But just when he was getting into the story, his peace fell apart. 

“Oh Emoraptor!” Remus sang as he rose up.

“What the hell are you doing in here, and what do you want?” Virgil paused the video and huffed, not bothering to look at the duke. He couldn’t smell him at least. 

“I just wanted to tell you something,” Remus pouted and rocked his shoulders back and forth. 

“What? I’m in the middle of something here,” Virgil responded briskly and spared Remus a tired glance. The duke brought his finger to his lip and bent his knee.

“I’m a sexy widdle baby!” he cooed and fluttered his lashes. He topped it off with a wink and blew a teasing kiss. Virgil couldn’t fight back a snort. Remus was good at being ridiculous.

“And what does the sexy widdle baby want?” Virgil asked with a taunting smirk. 

“I wanna watch with you!” Remus cheered and shimmied. Virgil rolled his eyes. He was clean, including his nails, they were perfectly trimmed too, and head scratches sounded wonderful, even if it meant getting them from Remus. He scooted over and patted the bed next to him.

“Keep it in your pants and no licking and you can stay.”

“Yes!” Remus cheered and leapt on the bed, “Bring on the Daddy Sexbang!” He wiggled to get comfy on his front and got close to Virgil to see the screen.

“Don't call Dan that again," Virgil groaned. He knew it was a lost cause but he was not going to let it slide that easily. 

"But he’s a sexy widdle baby!” Remus laughed and threw his arm around Virgil. Vigil didn’t push him away but he rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, he is, you aren’t.”

“Excuse moi?”

“He doesn’t have a mustache, or smell like shit,” Virgil jeered. Remus retaliated by scratching his scalp. 

"I'm sorry are you sniffing Dan Avidan daily?" Remus snickered as Virge melted into the touch. 

"I don't have that kind of access or the need to sniff a straight man." 

"Don't summon Janus with that kind of talk!" Remus laughed, "He's busy watching for when Patton flings logic out the window!" 

"They're talking with Thomas?" Virgil asked wearily. 

"Yeah but you can stick around and nut over Dan with me! This is a moral dilemma!" 

"Should I be reading between the lines? I'm too tired to do that shit," Virgil grunted and scooted closer to Remus. 

"I mean if you want to read between the lines you can assume I want to nut with you, over Dan or otherwise!" 

"Gross!" Virgil snickered and sighed contentedly as the video switched into the next one. 

"Come on! Like you haven't looked up some polygrumps art in your spare time to get some ideas!" 

"Shipping real people is gross." 

"Shipping and smut aren't the same thing! They're cool with that art, so it's fine!" Remus countered with a wink, "Do you think they make art of us like that?" 

"They do. I try not to look it up. I don't want to imagine that much of the others. Especially Janus—there's a select group that takes the snake thing to a whole other level." 

"Hot!" Remus cheered and shimmied, wiggling his eyebrows at Virge. He snorted in response and pressed his tongue into his cheek. 

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" 

"Because I'm me!" Remus giggled and glanced at the video, "Soap carving?" 

"Yeah, I guess so. Ten Minute Power Hour. This shit is right up your alley!" Virgil hummed and watched as Arin and Dan debated the source of the smell of soap. 

“Soap smells like soap, didn’t think that would be up for debate,” Virgil says, shaking his head.

“They usually add something to give it a scent, otherwise it smells like ammonia and meat fat!”

“Is that why you stink?”

“Nah! That’s just the scent of rejection!–Holy shit that cheese!” Remus hummed only to be distracted by a moldy old cheese carving that Dan dropped on the table.

“David Cheeseman, rip in pepperonis.” Virgil sighed wistfully, “He was a likeness of Dan and now he’s a likeness of you.”

“I resent that, unlike Dan, I know my sexiness has limits!” 

“We define them differently.”

“So you think I’m hotter than Danny Sexbang? I don’t know what to say!” Remus preened and rolled on his side, putting himself on display. Virgil scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“That despite all the shit you do, you have normal thumbs, so that's a plus,” Virgil couldn’t help but tease. Remus gave him a questioning smirk and scratched his scalp in retaliation. 

"You know you love me!" 

"I don't know what you're talking about—" Virgil shrugged while continuing to watch, "—oh god, Arin no!"

Remus watched amusedly as Arin bit down on a bar of soap wrapped in brown yarn. He was going to town trying to bite through it. The pause when he "realized it wasn't ice cream" got a chuckle out of Remus. But it was Dan suggesting he bite it again and his nonchalant agreement and subsequent chompage that got Virge laughing. 

"Mixing in the rootbeer is a good choice," Remus noted over the emo giggles, "it is creamy, but not like my favorite cream!" 

"Dude!"

"What? I have a preference for Kelpie milk and cream! And they think I’m the dirty one!” Remus cackled. Virgil shoved him playfully and scoffed.

“You and I both know you would say the other thing.”

“Yeah!” Remus said and fluttered his lashes, “But I didn’t! I’m unpredictable like that!”

“You’re as random as a soap taco.”

“They call it a clean taco!”

“Who’s they?”

“Arin.”

“Touché”

“Tushy!” Remus cheered and flopped on his stomach with a giggle. Virgil was tempted to shove him off the bed while the grumps goofed off with soap.

“That’s supposed to be satisfying?”

“Usually, yeah,” Virgil shrugged and flipped his hair out of his face, expecting Remus to go on about soap cutting stim videos. He was not expecting the joyful smacking on his arm when they started singing.

“This is my jam!” Remus squealed, “Oooh! Can we sing it! Please! You know you love this song!” Virgil bobbed his head in mock contemplation and smirked.

“Yeah, if you think you can remember the words,” he said with a teasing lilt to his voice. Remus smiled darkly and nodded.

"There used to be a graying tower alone in the sea. You became the light on the dark side of me.” They sang in tandem, waiting for the other to mess up.

“Love remains!” Remus practically screamed as he climbed that octave, before dropping to his usual range.

“A drug that’s the high not the pill. But did you know that when it snows, my eyes become large, and the light that you shine can be seen?” he let Virgil handle that next chunk, mainly because there was a smoothness to the emo’s voice that he didn’t have. Plus he liked Virgil's singing.

“Baby! I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey, ooh, the more I get of you the stranger it feels, yeah! Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the–” they were getting into it, having fun until...

“Grey.” “Grave.”

“It’s 'grey,' dukebag,” Virgil scoffed, “I can google the lyrics for you.”

“I know but I like saying ‘grave’ better! It still fits!” Remus argued.

“Just like you and your coffin,” Virgil jeered.

“Exactly! Now how about you let your rose bloom on my face so I can die happy!”

“That was a terrible euphemism, even for you.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I’m spending time with you again after so long, like almost nothing has changed except for the benefits and it makes me happy to be around and wanted!”

“Wanted?"

"I'm always showing up uninvited and it's part of the job. But it's nice to be wanted too, not just tolerated." Remus answered cheerfully. Virgil winced. He knew what that felt like, and almost forgot it too. 

"It sure is," Virgil sighed and wrapped an arm around Remus, "It sure is." 

"Janus just revealed his name." Remus hummed after a beat of silence. He was good at listening in on whatever was at the forefront of Thomas' mind when he wanted. 

"What?" 

"Yep! And he's gonna be a mess when he gets back, happy and hurt!" Remus hummed, "Of course so is Princey but it seems like Pat has that covered." 

"Are you gonna go help him?" 

"Nah, not yet. My name reveal wasn't emotional, so I'm useless in that department! Besides, I'm busy watching Game Grumps with my old flame and having fun! Self-Care Snake always says leisure is important!" 

"Yeah, the emotional stuff can wait. Wanna see them fail at summoning a ghost?" 

"Do I have a tentacle tramp stamp?" Remus answered with a mustache wiggle. Virgil snorted and ruffled Remus' hair.

"I missed you, you little shit!" Virgil laughed as he clicked on the next video. 

"I love you too, Scare Bear!" 

Virgil hummed noncommittally and leaned against the duke, resting his head on his shoulder. It really was as if nothing had changed at all.