#been falling asleep on the couch this week and will mysteriously wake up at exactly 4 am

[buttfrovski]

went through two cartons of energy drinks and a jug of cold brew this week

[annab-nana]

what lies underneath - rafe cameron

request: Can I have an imagine with Rafe Cameron were it's like a enemies to lovers situation, were him and I always bicker and tease each other, when I'm over hanging out with everyone we are all sitting in a circle and Rafe and I start arguing when I get tired and I accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder and he's shock later when I wake up we both have a moment and kiss. lol thank you :) - @gpiggy98

summary: he hates you, so you hate him, but your body betrays you, telling him you feel safe enough around him to fall asleep on him. when you wake, you and rafe get a different, more intimate perspective of each other. 

warnings: underage drinking, mentions of drugs, suggestive content

word count: 2.5k+

❀ masterlist ❀ 

"does your brother ever shut the fuck up?" you asked sarah, practically screaming at her so you could be heard by her over the thumping music that blasted throughout kelce's house. you knew as soon as you heard that his parents were going to be out of town for work for the week and were leaving their son behind that his home would resemble that of a frat house until maybe a few hours before their expected return if that. you weren't anticipating joining in on all the so-called fun he'd had planned, but scarlet begged sarah to join her. you and sarah already had plans to sleep over at her place, so you got roped into being a wallflower at a party you didn't wish to attend in the first place while hearing the vexing voice of the one you weren't the fondest of a few feet away.

you were never much of a partier. sarah knew that, so she promised you would only have to stay for a couple of hours. it had been double that at this point, but you understood her reason for wanting to stick around. scarlet was a very clumsy drunk, so being the good friend that sarah cameron was, she wanted to make sure scarlet got home safe—especially tonight because from what you could tell, she was very, very drunk. her body would be littered with bruises mysterious to her because it was highly likely she wouldn't remember bumping into so many things and people in the morning. 

that's mostly how you spent your night, sticking to sarah's side and watching scarlet knock into every surface possible, all while trying to avoid rafe as much as humanly possible. being at the party was taking enough of your energy alongside your body being physically tired from lack of sleep—you blame the paper you stayed up writing for most of the night before, damn your procrastinative tendencies. you simply did not have any more to use on your constant bicker battle with the eldest cameron. 

you truly had no idea why he held such a distaste toward you. he had been like that since the first day you'd met him. you were over at tannyhill for sarah—topper had kept out later than she anticipated—so you talked to wheezie and rose in the kitchen while he sat in the living room pretending to watch tv while he actually listened in on your conversation. topper had met you before and told rafe that he thought he'd like you and that you'd like him. but, he was wrong, so very wrong. all he did that day was stare at you which made you uncomfortable and gave you an odd look or two, but it only grew from there. 

"no, i don't, sweetheart," rafe spoke condescendingly as he plopped down next to you on the couch, leaving the conversation he was in previously to come mess with you. your patience was already wearing thin due to your exhaustion and avidity to leave, so adding him to the mix wasn't exactly ideal. sarah, thankfully, picked up on that. 

"rafe, not now," the blonde warned him, but he had already thrown an arm around you, pretending to be your friend when he was anything but. 

"rafe, not now," the blonde warned him, but he had already thrown an arm around you, pretending to be your friend when he was anything but. 

"rafe, not now," the blonde warned him, but he had already thrown an arm around you, pretending to be your friend when he was anything but. 

"what? is little miss y/n not having a good time?" he questioned while taking in both your and sarah's glares but ignoring the message behind them. his taunting eyes dropped down to you, his smirk growing at your clearly pissed-off expression. "what is it? no guys are interested in you?"

"no, one seems interested. he just can't seem to take a hint," you returned before continuing, "are the other girls not falling at your feet as you expect? where's that one who's always up your ass? jessica, is it?"

"jennifer," he corrected, "she's not around anymore."

"found a new cokehead to suck off for drugs?" his eyes rolled ever so slightly.

"you really are a bitch, you know that?" he argued, visibly getting riled up from your words as he moved his arm from around your shoulders to just rest behind you on the couch. 

you let out a dry laugh. "you never let me forget it."

a loud crash was heard in the next room over and all eyes were directed to where scarlet had just knocked over a lamp. 

"oh god," sarah mumbled as rafe laughed at the scene beside you. 

"can we just get her and go? please?" you requested, eager as ever to leave. 

sarah nodded her head at you. "yeah, i'll go get her."

"no, don't leave-" you started but cut yourself off when she was already gone to rein in scarlet and you were alone with rafe, "...me."

"don't act like you don't love being around me," rafe jeered while you elected to ignore him, closing your eyes and laying your head back on the couch and his arm where it rested against it. if you imagined yourself elsewhere, being here wouldn't be so bad, but rafe's presence infected your daydream of being at the beach. that daydream, however, turned into an actual dream when your lack of sleep caught up to you, causing you to knock out right there on the couch and on him. 

rafe was planning to leave you alone soon, but since you had fallen asleep and sarah wasn't around. something in him didn't feel comfortable leaving you without a friend to make sure no creep tried to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state. he didn't want to admit it but you looked kind of really cute when you were sleeping, peaceful even. he loved the way you seemed to feel safe enough around him in order to fall asleep in his presence though it did shock him. 

another thing he hated to admit was that topper was right all that time ago. rafe did like you, a lot actually, but you reminded him too much of how his mother used to be. he thinks that's why he treats you how he does because he has tried for years to suppress the sadness of her absence and you brought that back up again, making him angry. when you simplify the equation, you make him angry. it was fucked up. he knew that, but did nothing to change it and why would he? you seemed to play into the game of hatred like a pro, so he let it continue. 

rafe moved himself a bit to better situate his arm so he wouldn't lose feeling in it soon and also so you could be more comfortable and with him moving, you stirred. he froze and hoped you'd either go back to sleep or wake and think nothing of it. you went with the former. only you moved closer to rafe and snuggled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. 

you were like a baby koala bear that rafe felt the need to protect—he always felt the need to protect you, but it was growing exponentially right now. he relaxed more and let his arm now wrap around you to keep you close and warm. anytime he was around you, it was like all walls went up and he felt the need to put on a show of teasing you relentlessly. but now, those walls were down and he wasn't having to taunt you to talk to you. it was just you and him coexisting while the party went on around you. 

rafe caught a glimpse of sarah trying to lead a very drunk scarlet closer to the front of the house before the intensely intoxicated girl tripped over her own feet for the umpteenth time that night and took a vase down with her. rafe cringed at the noise and looked down at you, hoping you didn't wake up because of it though it was pretty much impossible considering the sound it produced. 

he watched your eyes squint open as you took in your surroundings before realizing you were relaxed against him. you didn't react like he expected you to though. he was waiting for you to jump back in disgust and make some smart remark. maybe go off in search of sarah or scarlet or a stranger even at this point, anyone to get you away from him. but you didn't.

"sorry," you muttered lowly, far too tired to give him any more energy than you already were. lethargically, you tried to move away from him to let him have his personal space back to himself, but his arm around you halted your movements. it was then that you noticed just how close you were to each other. 

your head snapped up to look at him, wondering why he was keen on keeping you close. all you had ever known was a rafe cameron lived to rip you to shreds and make your life hell, not one who held you gently and looked upon you with such care as the one you saw did now. rafe only ever touched you when he was pretending to be your friend to get on your nerves like he did earlier, a teasing arm around your shoulders, but now it was comforting and real. 

cerulean eyes danced all over your face while yours did the same. you examined parts of his face that looked different now that he wasn't up to his usual antics. you could see his eyes better and could fall deeper into the beautiful blue irises you never really got to see when he glared at you through a derisive squint. his brows didn't hold their typical pinch. his eyes didn't look down on you in disdain but instead in wonder. his face looked clear yet it showed some signs that you couldn't quite get a read on. 

"rafe," you whispered, trying to coax him to say what he needed to say or do what he needed to do. you just wanted a clue as to what was going through his head at this point. 

you got a small hint when he leaned in closer, but you couldn't believe it even when you felt his breath hitting your lips. this had to be a joke or a game or a dare. but you knew him. when he was pulling shit like that, he constantly bit his lower lip and as you glanced down to his mouth, he wasn't doing that. 

"can i?" he inquired softly, eyes pleading with yours while also searching for any sign that you might be backing out. you didn't though. you shocked him with your zealous compliance when you surged forward and connected your lips to his. it was like your body was on autopilot because if you were using your brain at all, you would've denied him in a heartbeat like you were supposed to do. but your mouth and your body craved him in a way you'd never felt before as you moved closer to him, letting your leg swing over his lap to straddle him. 

you had never before felt such passion, such want and need. normally with him, the only thing you needed was to get away to save a headache. now, you just needed him and he felt the same. his hands gripped at your waist fervently while yours held his face to yours. you knew you'd need to break for air sometime soon, but didn't want that time to come. however, like the rest of the night, scarlet was there to interrupt. 

"y/n!" she squealed when she saw you before looking down to whose lips you'd been ferociously macking on. "rafe! you know, i knew you two would get together at some point."

rafe wore a smirk, running his tongue over his teeth cockily, while you looked to sarah. if you were in her position and you just saw your best friend who claimed to hate your brother sucking his face off, you'd feel at least a little betrayed, but she seemed to have the same smirk on her face that her brother did. 

"i'm taking scarlet home. rafe?" sarah called to her brother after filling you in. 

"yeah?" he responded, eyes on you still while he rubbed his thumbs in small circular motions into the exposed skin of your hips where your shirt had ridden up. the cool metal of his ring felt like ice against your burning skin where his fingers held you.

"get y/n to tannyhill soon and make sure she gets some sleep. i should be back within an hour or two, but who knows with this one," sarah ordered as she gestured toward scarlet who let out a small, "hey."

"just stay with scarlet for tonight. i've got y/n," rafe told his sister with his face half-turned to her. sarah's eyes met yours to make sure you were okay with it and you sent her a gentle nod and smile to let her know you felt safe being alone with rafe. 

"okay," sarah answered, returning her full attention back to scarlet and getting her home before she absolutely demolished kelce's house any further. rafe turned back to you and you looked down at him as a yawn escaped you, causing the boy to chuckle. 

"alright," he started, patting your thigh twice, "i think it's time to get you to bed."

"i think we need to talk about this little situation we've got going on here." you motioned between the two of you to clarify the meaning of your sentence. he knew better than to think things would all be sunshine and rainbows after treating you as he had been and then kissing you. 

"i know, but can we save that for in the morning? you're tired and i'd be lying if i said i wasn't getting there too." after nodding your head, you tried to move off his lap, but like earlier, he'd held you back. "kiss me again?"

"not until we talk about this," you told him, though you knew in the back of your head that you wanted to as well. he groaned before you quickly pecked his lips, something small but nothing to really savor. "that is all you get for now."

"this is going to be the longest night ever," he complained and stood with you when you moved off of him. 

"quit whining. you get to sleep with me tonight."

"you won't let me kiss you, but will let me do that?" he questioned while following you outside, your logic lost on him. 

"no, you idiot," you laughed before clarifying, "actually sleep."

"damn."

"i'm not that easy, you know?" you said to him after he opened the truck door for you, letting you get in.

"trust me," he prefaced while he waited for you to get fully in, all limbs in the vehicle so he wouldn't shut the door on you, "i know."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you argued, but he had already shut the door, shrugging at you through the window with a playful grin on his lips. 

if you thought your hands were full with rafe before tonight, you had no idea what you were in for in the days to come.

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[winchesters-imagine]

I was wondering if you could write something where it’s late at night and the reader suddenly just gets this overwhelming sense of anxiety and panic and Sam helps her through it?

oh my goodness this is perhaps EXACTLY what i need sometimes i hope this was somewhat accurateto what you meant :)

^-^

You missed the sun. It had been a few hours since its disappearance behind the horizon, since its friendly and welcoming demeanour had left you for the night. Sometimes, the disappearance of the sun came with an anxiety that made it difficult to sleep, or be present.

It would creep up on you slowly. The coil between your ribs would tighten, more and more until all you could feel was the thump thump thump of your heart against your chest. Sometimes you ignored it, bouncing your leg or clenching your jaw as you either let it out or kept it close. Other times, the mysterious and unwelcome visitor would be the last straw.

After a more gruelling hunt this week, you had been pushing down the distress that had settled in your bones, instead trying your hardest to be present with the Winchesters as a distraction. Perhaps watching a movie with them wasn’t such a great idea. The lights were dimmed as much as possible — Dean had fallen asleep thirty minutes ago, gentle snores smothered by the gunshots and police sirens of the television. You had no idea what was happening on the screen, nor how Sam was doing since the last time you checked, because your gaze was unfocused in the general direction of the wall. Your arms were wrapped around your knees as you tried to comfort yourself somehow, as the anxiety that had threatened you all evening began to build. Wishing you knew the reason was one of the thoughts that made up the tornado in your mind. The others were unintelligible, but all led to one instruction that your body and mind couldn’t find the strength to resist: panic.

You didn’t want to ruin the movie, but your heart was in your throat — you could almost feel the back of the couch shaking with each heavy beat. So when the tears came, you were glad for the low lighting as your shallow breaths encouraged the tears to fall down your cheeks. It wasn’t long before your legs began to feel the shakes, and you were forced to sniff.

“Hey…” Sam’s voice softly cut through the silence that had engulfed the room, now that the movie had been paused. “Are you okay? Do you need me to turn it off?” Gently, he moved from the other side of the couch to be closer to you. You put your head between your knees and shook it, wishing that the cushions underneath you could swallow you whole.

Your breaths were fragmented, and a small sob escaped you despite your efforts to stay quiet. Don’t wake Dean. Don’t disturb Sam. The latter had already been thrown out the window. A very light, tentative hand ghosted along your back, between your shoulder blades. When you didn’t flinch away, Sam began rubbing soothing circles as you allowed yourself to cry. They say it helps, right? For a moment you worried that Sam would ask you questions, ones that required expansion — you didn’t trust your voice to be steady. But he was smarter than that, of course.

“Have you been like this all night?”

Nod.

“Do you know why?”

Shake.

“Can I hold you?”

A beat. A nod.

Sam shuffled closer to you, with one arm he encouraged you to lean against him, unravelling your self-made hideaway. Tucked into his side, you were able to rest a hand on his chest, feeling the calm, steady beats of his own heart. A warm hand rested on your arm, fingertips drawing meaningless patterns onto it. The shakes diffused throughout your body still, and every time you experiences a burst of them, Sam’s arm squeezed you just that bit tighter. You felt a very light kiss pressed to the top of your head while you wiped the hot tears away with the back of your hand, murmuring a quiet apology for disturbing the evening.

“You do not have to apologise for this. For eating the last slice of Dean’s pie, maybe. But never this. I just want you to be okay.”

You couldn’t tell whether you imagined his breaths getting deeper, slower, more purposeful. But synchronising your breathing with his loosened the knot in your chest enough for you to feel sleepy. The nausea still bubbled inside you, but Sam was slowly grounding you with his steady breathing, light touches, and gentle words. You grasped one of his hands tightly in your own, hoping it could convey how grateful you were for him bringing you back and distracting you.

The fingertips on your arm soon drifted to the space between your eyebrows, stroking very gently. Your eyelids felt heavy, and with each deliberate swipe of his fingers came a stronger promise of sleep.

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes Imagines - Look after you

AN: Requested by Anonymous - Bucky Barnes and ‘Look After You’ by The Fray - I hope you like my interpretation on it

(Want to request your own character and song inspired imagine? Send me an ask!!)

Summary: Bucky saves you from a mugger and you stay the night in his apartment

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,409

Warnings: Man cornering woman in an alley, some violence, some strong language.

You felt the hairs stand up on the back of your neck as you turned your second right corner. 

The man who you thought might be following you, turned as well. 

You felt sick. 

What were you going to do? You didn't have your pepper spray on you and your phone had died at work. 

You felt like such an idiot but you didn’t expect to be put on a double shift. You were meant to finish at 6 not at close but Julie had called in sick whilst you were already on shift and you needed the money this week. 

You thought the corner you turned lead into another street but instead it was a long narrow alleyway. Your eyes searched your surroundings; you needed to find a way to get rid of your stalker. 

You clutched hold of your bag as you heard the footsteps behind you pick up and then you took a deep shaky breath. 

You took off. 

Your follower was chasing after you but you refused to turn around in fear of falling over at the speed you were sprinting. 

You felt a hand grab hold of your hair and yank you backwards. 

You let out a scream as you collided with the concrete. 

You scrambled around on the floor and managed to kick off your attacker. 

That’s when you heard it. 

The cock of the gun. 

Your attacker had stood back, aiming a small handgun at you. 

“Give me the purse and any other money you have on you.” The hooded man demanded. 

“I don't have any money on me.” You felt tears in your eyes as you felt a throbbing in your ankle. You must've twisted it when you were trying to get the attacker off you. 

Your attacker sent his foot into your ribs which made you cry out again. 

“Don’t play stupid with me, bitch!” Your attacker hissed. 

“Now that’s not a very nice way to treat a lady.” A different voice spoke up with  lay sarcasm and that’s when a rather large arm grabbed your attacker from behind him. 

You watched the mystery man throw your attacker against the wall, stripping him of the gun and landing a fist straight to his face. The attacker fell to the floor unconscious. 

“You alright?” Your saviour came towards you and helped you off the floor.

“T-thank you.” You were still in shock but could manage to thank the man. 

“Come on. This is my apartment building. You wanna call someone?” The man looked up at the building to your left and you nodded your head. 

“I’m Bucky.” Bucky finally introduced himself and you responded with your own name. 

When you tried to walk, Bucky noticed you wince and fall down slightly on your ankle. 

“I’m sure it’s just a sprain.” You whispered as he ducked down to help you. 

He wrapped your arm around him as he held you up and you hobbled beside him to the front door. 

You took the elevator up to his apartment and Bucky helped you inside. 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t got much furniture.” Bucky apologised as he sat you down on his couch. “I don’t get many visitors.”

You watched the man go over to his fridge-freezer and take out an ice pack. You noticed that he wore black gloves when he cracked it in his hands. 

Bucky told you to sit back on the couch and propped your leg up on his knee. Wrapping the ice pack around your ankle. 

“No bed?” You tried to make conversation as you looked around the small apartment. 

Beside the couch was some blankets and a pillow.

“I don’t sleep much.” Bucky muttered, his eyes flickering from your ankle to your eyes and back again. 

“Veteran?” You questioned. One of your old friends from your hometown had done a couple tours and always found a bed too soft after.

“How can you tell?” Bucky asked. 

“Bedsheets on the floor. My friend, Robin, he couldn’t sleep in a bed after his tour.” You explained as you shifted slightly under Bucky’s grip. 

“Did you want to call someone?” Bucky asked you after a moment of silence. 

“I only moved here a month ago. I don’t really have anyone to call.” You admitted quietly, slightly embarrassed at the fact the only reason you were up here was because you agreed to use the phone. 

Bucky looked up at you again momentarily. 

“You live round here?” Bucky asked. 

“A few blocks over.” You informed him. 

There was another silence. 

“I know I don’t know you... But... can I stay tonight? My apartment is kinda rough and I don’t know if I can sleep there tonight after...” You felt yourself getting worked up again thinking about your attacker. 

“I––” Bucky went to speak, pulling a face of uncertainty.

“I’ve leave straight away in the morning. I just... What if he wakes up and he knows where I live?” You pulled your arms around yourself as you started to overthink. 

“Um, you can sleep on the couch.” Bucky didn’t know how to say no when you looked so scared. 

Bucky rose to his feet, placing your ankle down on the floor gently. He walked over to a small cupboard and pulled out a blanket and some clothes. 

He handed you the blanket before awkwardly excusing himself to the bathroom. 

When he returned he was in a pair of jogging shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt. He still had the gloves on. 

“What’s up with the gloves?” You asked, purely out of curiosity. 

“Um...” Bucky looked down at his hands, “Uh, poor circulation.” He told you. 

He sat down on the floor where his own blanket was and then switched on the television. 

“I- uh- I can’t sleep without it.” Bucky didn’t look at you when he spoke.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, tucking yourself up on the couch. 

You wouldn’t usually stay at some random guys apartment with no knowledge of him but Bucky had a weird calming effect on you. You felt safe. 

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep but just as quickly as you fell, you were rudely awakened by a sudden screaming. 

You shot up, forgetting where you were for a minute before you heard the screaming again. 

You fell off the couch, crawling over to Bucky where he was writhing on the floor. 

He was covered in sweat and his shirt was soaked through. 

“Bucky!” You touched him lightly, “Bucky! Wake up!” You applied more pressure, shaking the man as his screaming pained your chest.

The man jolted upwards, his cries stopped when his eyes snapped opened. 

His hand grabbed your upper arm with a painfully tight grip. 

“Hey, it’s me.” You cupped his face, trying to get him to look at you. 

His breathing started to slow and his hand released when he caught your eyes.

“Hey...”You whispered, brushing his wet hair off his forehead. 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky’s voice came out strangled and so you limped over to the sink and poured him some water. 

“Thanks.” Bucky took the water before he pulled his t-shirt off. That’s when you noticed his arm. 

It was metal. He must've suffered his loss during his time served. 

Bucky didn’t see you see him. 

“That must've been one hell of a dream.” You sat opposite him on the floor, crossing your legs over. Resting your sore ankle on top of your knee.

Bucky didn’t say anything. 

“It’s okay.” You assured him as you reached out and told hold of his hand. 

Bucky almost withdrew but when your skin was on his, he felt something wash up his arm. 

“Why are you being so nice? If the guy I was rooming with was screaming in the night I would’ve left.” Bucky tried to be light-hearted. You smiled weakly at the man. 

“You helped me. Only right, I do the same.” You explained. “Also, can’t exactly get far right now.” You reminded him of your ankle. 

Bucky smiled for the first time since you met him and you felt your heart flutter. 

“I’m sorry I woke you.” Bucky apologised again. 

“You can make it up to me with breakfast.” You squeezed his hand before hauling yourself up onto the small couch again. 

“And here I was wasting my time with online dating.” Bucky mumbled but you expect he didn’t mean for you to hear that last remark. 

AN: Hope you like it!

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Wounded

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader [Dating], Bucky Barnes x Reader [Platonic] Warnings: mantions of kidnapping, slight depictions of PTSD, angst Summary: After you survive a kidnapping that ends up affecting you in ways you and Steve never anticipated, you turn to Bucky for comfort leaving Steve confused and insecure. A/N: alright this is an older one I had sitting on my computer i felt like uploading but very sorry for the lack of content! I am currently dealing with finals but this is my last year so fingers crossed i’ll have more time after this! Still, please enjoy this, I remember really enjoying writing it :)

Masterlist

You shot up in bed suddenly, praying your eyes would adjust to the pitch black darkness of your bedroom fast enough to ease your brain. As your heart raced and sides ached with bruises, you took in your surroundings finally.

You were in your bed, your boyfriend Steve sleeping peacefully next to you. You knew this in your brain but your heart didn’t. It still raced relentlessly, just a haunting reminder of your latest nightmare.

The nightmares always had the same theme. They always seemed to circle back to your troubling and scarring kidnapping you had suffered just a few weeks ago. It was a devastating ploy by some equally devastating men to get to your boyfriend. The abduction didn’t last very long — just about a week in some musty, dirty cell being kicked around — but the scars it left on your brain where so much deeper than you had ever realized until recently.

The physical abuse was bad but the bruises and cuts were healing just fine. It was the mental and emotional games they played that was going to take longer to ease. The words were haunting and they followed you in every crevasse of your brain, typically leaving you running on a couple of hours a sleep. It was a cruel routine: go to bed safe and sound, find peace for two hours, wake up in a cold sweat, watch mindless TV in the common area until breakfast.

Here we go, you thought as you made your way out of the bed. Steve was still undisturbed, in a peaceful dream sleep, typically unaware of your absence. The few times he had caught on you rushed him back to bed, claiming you just wanted a midnight snack. He never questioned it but his eyes always told you he wasn’t convinced. You ignored it — you just couldn’t tell him. The guilt he carried about your kidnapping was unbelievable. You worked so hard to convince him you were alright, it wasn’t ever his fault, and that the wounds were healing because you couldn’t bare to see those eyes in such a miserable state.

It really wasn’t a total lie — the wounds were swell and you wouldn’t dare to blame him for something not in his control — but then the nightmares started. The daunting voice began chiming in. The depression… the anxiety… the fear… it all came at once so unexpectedly.

You tugged on your fluffy robe along with your slippers and made your way to the kitchen. As you rounded the corner you were stunned to see the kitchen light already on. Peaking your head in, your eyes fell on Bucky who was situated at the kitchen island  snacking on some chips.

You stared, unsure of whether you should head to the living room and venture into the kitchen. No one had ever been up with you before and if they did, they never made themselves known.

"I can feel you staring, Y/N."

Bucky’s rough voice brought you out of your ridiculous phase. You sighed and made your way to the fridge.

"What are you doing up?" You asked, grabbing a carton of vanilla ice cream along with a spoon and making your way to the island. You stood opposite of him, watching and waiting for a reply as he crunched on the chips.

"Isn’t this the time you always get up?"

His question stunned you. Holding his intense stare, you placed your spoon on the counter next to the ice cream. Suddenly, your stomach was in a knot. Maybe a part of you didn’t want anyone to know what was going on.

"I just wanted a snack," You gave your go-to spiel but the ex-assassin wasn’t buying one bit of it.

"Every night?" Bucky scoffed. "Probably should eat a bigger dinner, then."

You rolled your eyes as he gave you his know-it-all smirk. You loved Bucky really —totally loved his company and all that — he had been such a great friend to you and so inviting but no matter what, without a fail, he could always pick up on anything that was off. Steve, of course, could see right through you but he always gave you the benefit of the doubt. He was gentler with you, never wanting to pry or upset you, and you were so thankful for that. But Bucky didn’t give a shit — if something was wrong he was gonna find out one way or another.

"Why are you up?" You repeated your initial question, getting a bit fed up with this now. He stalled your question and reached for more chips. You sighed in annoyance and opened the ice cream carton, digging into the creamy deliciousness.

"Something’s up with you," Bucky finally answered. His voice was a bit softer and way less cocky. Hearing someone express they saw you weren’t okay nearly had you in tears. You shoveled more ice cream in your mouth, staring down at the granite counter.

You shook your head. "Just wanted a snack."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." Bucky groaned. "Come on, don’t make this hard." You placed your spoon in the carton, pushing it to the side. You fiddled with your nails as thoughts and feelings swarmed in your brain. It couldn’t hurt for someone to know, right?

"Nightmares," You spoke softly, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Just some bad nightmares."

"The kidnapping," He whispered. You saw his fists clinch at the mention of it. Your kidnapping had shocked everyone. They all had their own way of handling it but usually it was just a lot of confusion. You weren’t some hero. You didn’t have magical power or a fancy training. You were just a nurse who bandaged up the heroes when they came back. Even with dating Steve, no one expected you to be a casualty.

"It’s really messing with my brain," The words were rough to get out but once they were out there, you felt a new freedom. A weight you never realized was so heavy was being lifted so carelessly with words.

Bucky just nodded and waited for you to continue.

From then on, your nightly routine was no longer a lonesome thing. Bucky began joining you every night with snacks and a therapy session. It felt easy to talk with him about it especially since he understood. He didn’t have to pretend to know how you felt — he had felt it all, too. He got what being captive was like, how the mental manipulation went, how strong the effects of it all could be… You for once didn’t feel crazy. But most importantly — someone knew. Like really knew. And you were immensely grateful.

It seemed to be helping as well. You knew when the thoughts got rough, you could just spew it all out. You could talk about what exactly had happened to you without fear of being looked at differently. The whole thing was like breathing fresh air. You could even sometimes fall back asleep on the couch which now put your sleeping time up to four glorious hours.

The nightly chats really put your daytime spirits back up. So much so, Steve was getting a little suspicious. While he was so relieved you seemed to be doing better, the steps you took to get there were still a mystery to him and you could tell he was curious. When you’d join him in your shared room at the end of the day, he’d ask more questions about what you had done through the day. It was almost like he wanted a play-by-play and you did your best to comply.

It wasn’t until a week or so later that he started catching on to you leaving in the middle of the night. Without knowing it, he had used all his might to stay up one night to see if something was going on. You didn’t appear to be doing anything but work during the day so something must’ve been happening in the night — and that’s when his mind wandered. The thoughts of what could be helping you started to get a little unpleasant.

It was a random Tuesday night and you were on the couch with Bucky eating some pretzels. He was sitting up right while you were laying on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. You were going on about how your nightmares had gotten weaker when unexpected foot steps halted your words.

"What’s this?" The unmistakably strong voice of your boyfriend boomed through the living room. You scrambled to sit up, throwing pretzels all over the coffee table. Both stunned and unsure, you and Bucky stared at Steve. His demeanor was hard, his face unamused, and his eye said he was ready for a fight.

"Steve, babe, what-," You fumbled for your words, trying your best to reason. He hadn’t caught you two doing anything but his energy was so startling it made you unexplainably scared.

"What? What am I doing up? What are you doing up?" He marched towards the couch. Hesitantly, you stood up to face him. Bucky stayed seated, looking at you both with a slight expression of annoyance. He knew how possessive his best friend could get but this felt excessive.

"Just wanted a snack-,"

"Don’t bullshit me," Steve growled, taking an intimidating step towards you. You jumped at the harshness. Sure, you guys had had disagreements before but this was entirely new.

"I… I’m not… Steve-,"

Steve took a deep breath.

"Y/N," His voice got deeper. It was slightly too calm compared to his attitude just seconds before. "Tell me why you’re up at night sneaking around with my best friend."

"Sneaking around?!" You gasped. "Steve, that is not-,"

"OH, IT’S NOT?" Steve’s voice boomed throughout the common area. Even a watching Bucky jumped at the noise.

You quickly backed away from him, completely scared beyond belief. His eyes were harsh, his entire demeanor fuming with anger. You had never seen anything like this from him and it started to bring up the memories you worked so hard to heal from.

"Steve, man, take it down a notch…" Bucky finally stood from the couch and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve flinched back, nearly ready to throw one at Bucky, but something in him clicked. He lowered his hand and took a few deep breaths. Coming to his senses, he looked at you and saw the absolute horror on your face. He had never seen you look at him like that and it broke him into a million pieces.

"I… just… what the hell is going on?" Steve meant for it to come out nicer, but the harshness was yet to leave him and his tone. You started rubbing your hands together, a nervous tick you’ve had forever. Bucky tried to get you to stop when he noticed your movements, but Steve’s cold glare wouldn’t let him anywhere near you.

"I can’t sleep anymore," you said, breaking the silence with a much more powerful voice than you intended. You didn’t know you had the strength. "Ever since… I can’t sleep. I keep having these nightmares and Bucky’s been helping."

Steve scoffed, "Helping?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Now you were getting weary of both super soldiers.

"We sit up talking," Bucky explained. "It helps her… well both of us, really, to talk, watch TV… anything."

"And you didn’t tell me this because…?" Steve asked, pointing his attention back on you. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went down your spine as his cold gaze. You sighed, realizing the gig was up.

"God, Steve, I didn’t wanna worry you!" You exclaimed. "The last thing you need is a girlfriend with PTSD. You go through enough shit and I just didn’t wanna pile it on."

The admission sat in the air heavily around you three. Bucky looked relieve you finally said something but Steve’s eyes just held so much confusion. Personally, you felt so much weight coming off you. You thought you’d never have to tell him, assumed everything would sort itself out, but no, you finally spoke up.

"Honey," Steve sighed with sudden tears forming in his eyes. "You didn’t… You shouldn’t have done that, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

You nodded, "Steve it was just so scary. I didn’t know what to do. Bucky was just there and he got it and would just sit up with me and-,"

"Alright, hon," Steve cut you off and made his way closer. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch away. "I understand and I’m glad you had someone, but I would’ve helped. I can help you, sweetheart."

"I’m sorry," You whispered as he pulled you into a hug. You threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest, letting the pent up tears flow. Steve rest his chin on your head, stroking your hair softly.

"I didn’t know you were hurting this much," he admitted.

"It’s been so fucking scary,"

Steve could almost feel his heart breaking at the sound of your voice alone. Your words just piled on so much.

"I should let you two…" Bucky began, essentially forgotten standing next to you two. You pulled away from Steve to look at him.

"Thank you, Buck," you said.

Steve nodded in agreement. "I’m sorry for the overreacting I just… I thought the worst, but really you probably saved my girl."

Bucky gave a small smile and patted Steve on the back. "I didn’t do anything. It’s her strength you gotta thank."

With that, he made his way to the elevator and back to his room, leaving you two still standing in an embrace in the common area. You stared up at Steve, watching his expression towards you change. What was once so scary and harsh was back to the softest man you’d ever met.

"We’ll make some calls in the morning but for now, would you come back to bed?" Steve asked. "I can’t imagine anymore nights without you."

You nodded, giving him a peck on the lips. He led you back to the shared bedroom and for once, you went to bed with a sense of hope.

[lokislittlesigyn]

Wake Me - Loki x Reader [Oneshot]

[My masterlist, where this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / gender neutral reader

Warnings: Angst. But fear not, for fluff awaits!

Author’s Note: I have legitimately no idea if I’ll write more Loki x Reader; I never intended to write any because I don’t know the reader so I can’t characterize the reader but then I had a headcanon.. And then I had an idea...

And then I wrote this and I thought “hmm, I should challenge myself to do a New Thing?” and then this happened. Blame Loki, maybe? He seems to be behind a lot of this.

Is there any demand for a taglist of.. Possible future Loki x Readers? I dunno? Let me know.

This fic is loosely based off a song by the same name, which is also one of my favorite songs! Enjoy. <3

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

You didn’t notice it at first.

Not for the first few days… Weeks? You weren’t sure how long it had been happening. How long Loki had been leaving your bed in the middle of the night.

Your apartment was a decent size - more than decent, considering the average size of a New York City apartment. Being a close friend and employee of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts (was it Stark now?) had its perks. The apartment had a bedroom, a bathroom across the short hall, a living room which doubled as your workspace, and a good-sized kitchen. Even had a washer and dryer at the end of the hall, tucked neatly into a little closet that also held a few of your coats. As an added luxury, there was a small - very small - balcony off the living room. Hardly big enough to stand on, it was nevertheless a wonderful spot to sit and watch the sun set over the city. You loved living there, in that cozy space you’d made your own, and eventually welcomed Loki into. 

Loki. Not exactly someone you’d intended to end up with. Then again, who intends to fall in love with a god?

Who intends to fall in love at all?

You’d met through friends of friends, and that was about the only mundane thing about your relationship. Said friends of friends were the Avengers for crying out loud, and the moment you saw Thor in person you nearly froze from shock. The moment you saw his brother, however, your heart practically leapt out of your chest and into the hand Loki reluctantly extended, per his brother’s direction.

You took his hand in your own, trying not to tremble as you shook it. You gave your name. He gave his. You parted ways. A mundane interaction, right?

But again, few things about your relationship were mundane.

You would’ve written it off as a simple, regular greeting if Loki hadn’t found you later as you skulked along the edges of Tony’s huge party. You knew the hosts, of course, and some of the other guests - but everything was so big and frightening and new you hardly knew what to do with yourself. 

How were you, a regular human, supposed to deal with all… That? Heroic wasn’t a word you’d really use to describe yourself. Let alone super-heroic - that title was reserved for the incredible individuals around you, whose personalities and achievements eclipsed your own. You mulled over the thought, drink still clutched firmly in hand, but untouched.

And that was when Loki commented on the fact you looked “nearly as miserable as he felt.” You couldn’t help but blush a little and laugh at the comment. You quipped something back - something about misery loving company, and Loki’s eyebrows raised. His expression gave little else away, though. It hardly ever did.

It wasn’t until many months after the party, after you and Loki had gotten to know each other better and started dating, that he whispered the truth to you: the idea that anyone would be gladder with him around than with him gone, was astonishing to him. He could hardly believe it.

But when it came to you? He believed you.

You had no reason to lie to him. No need to impress him, or earn his favor, or act cordially for fear of an Asgardian royal. You were safe at that party, and you were safe when you visited him at the Avengers compound - you had no reasonable ulterior motives. Nothing to hide.

And, likewise, he had no reason to actively hide things from you, now that you lived together and you knew about his past, about his parentage.

Or, you thought he had no reason to hide things from you…

So why was he leaving you at night?

The first night you truly noticed it was on a dark, cool night of spring. 

You’d left the bedroom window open while you fell asleep, and upon waking up thought to yourself, still under a veil of sleepiness, that you should probably get up and close it. But as your eyes opened and adjusted to the dark, you noticed two things.

First, the window was closed, the curtains completely drawn. 

Second, the place next to you, where Loki usually lie, was empty. Completely empty, the bed covers pushed toward you to help keep you warm. Still half-asleep, your hand smoothed over the sheets to his spot - cold. He’d been gone a while. 

You squinted to see through the crack in your bedroom door, but couldn’t make out if the bathroom light was on. Maybe he’s in there.. You shrugged to yourself, flipping back over and nuzzling into your pillow. You’d meant to stay awake until he returned, just to be sure he was okay, but sleep quickly washed over you again.

When you woke up the next morning, you realized you definitely should’ve been able to see if the bathroom light was on, had it been on, so Loki couldn’t have been in there. He was never one for midnight snacking, as far as you could tell, so he probably wasn’t in the kitchen.

The more you thought about it, the more it bothered you. You tried to brush it aside - after all, Loki was a very private person, slow to trust or to show much emotion. He was vulnerable with few people... Maybe only one person - you. The trust between you had been hard-won, and you loved every new piece of himself he showed you. 

He also enjoyed quiet time, often spent with books. Reading, writing notes, sometimes even napping in the safety of your apartment, his forgotten book on his chest as he lie draped across the couch, his lanky limbs hanging off the edges. You really needed a bigger couch.

Yes, you assured yourself. Loki just needed time alone every now and then. Everyone did, right? 

You tried to ignore it, you truly did. 

But later, it happened again. 

You woke up to an empty bed, a dark room, and the door pulled to. This time you could swear you saw a light coming from the other room, so this time you figured he was in the bathroom and once again you succumbed to sleep.

~~~~

The morning after, you woke up to your regular routine: Get up, get dressed, make coffee for two, eat some sort of breakfast, and get to work. Work didn’t exactly have a set location - that close friendship with the Starks stemmed from having worked with Pepper for years, and now since you worked for Stark Industries, you enjoyed several perks. 

Sometimes Pepper brought you in on-site, other times (more often than not, considering the fact you had an ex-villain alien god to worry about… and not everyone was convinced about the ex part) you simply received work on your secure Stark-tech computer and worked remotely. From home, from a cafe, even from the Avengers compound when you visited. (You had a room there, too - as did Loki. Courtesy of Tony.)

So as you sat with your laptop in front of you on your desk, the window cracked to let some air in, you started the day. Coffee in hand, a half-eaten croissant next to you.

Loki stood next to you, sipping his own coffee. 

He liked to watch you work. Liked to distract you from work too - he wasn’t the god of mischief for nothing.

“Sleep well?” He broke the silence first.

You took another bite of breakfast. “Yeah. You sleep okay?”

He shifted his weight. “Fine.”

“You sure?”

His hand touched your shoulder, as if to reassure you. “Just fine. How long are you working today?” His fingers smoothed their way from your shoulder to your clavicle and back - slowly, rhythmically. 

“I literally just got started,” you muttered a soft laugh, and he chuckled in turn.

“But I like spending time with you.”

“Well I like spending time with you, too. But work is important.”

“Would it be less important if I gave Stark something better to worry about than..” Loki leaned over, scrutinizing the screen, “Interview paperwork?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Loki, do not attack my boss, please.”

“I said nothing about attacking him.”

“Loki.”

“Yes, love?” He smiled down at you. You huffed - he had no right to be this charming, nor this cute - but that worry was still gnawing at you. Why had he left last night? 

“Are you sure you slept okay?”

He paused a moment, then smiled - but it seemed forced. “Yes. I slept just fine - do you need to talk about something..?”

“You left.. In the middle of the night, I woke up and you were gone.”

He swallowed. “I hadn’t realized you were awake - forgive me.” His hand slid down your shoulder, to your arm - and then away. “It was just a bit of restlessness, darling, you mustn’t worry.” He kissed the top of your head, then straightening up, raised his coffee mug to his lips again. “I’ll leave you to that.. Riveting work of yours… Let me know if you ever need a welcome distraction.”

“You’re always welcome,” you smirked slightly. You weren’t convinced he was only restless but.. Maybe he was. Who knew? Loki was a mystery to many. You’d try to believe him, at least.

“Am I?” He grinned. “Then I’ll be sure to distract you often.” With a small wink, he turned and left.

~~~~

The next time you noticed it, it seemed later in the night. And this time, you heard something too. Crying. Talking - like a whisper, barely audible past the soft sobs.

The door was cracked again, but had swung a bit more open than the times before. That must be the source of the sound...

Resolved to figure out what was going on, you slid out of bed. Tried to stay quiet as you walked to the door and peered out.

There was faint light coming from the living room. A silhouette on the wall showed Loki’s position - in front of the balcony, the street lights casting his shadow. You inched down the hallway, stopping just before you reached the living room.

“...Mother, you would. I just know it. (Y/N) is endlessly beautiful, and intelligent, and… and kind…” Loki was sitting in the floor, his back to you. Dressed in the same clothes he usually wore to bed - loose pants and a comfortable green shirt. His long black hair was messy, and his body shook with sobs.

The door to the balcony was open, allowing a cool night breeze to drift in. An occasional car drove by, or plane flew overhead, but Loki was focused on the stars.

“Just like you. But I, I don’t.. I don’t deserve it. Any of it-” his voice cracked, “And I miss you.”

Your heart broke. You made your way across the living room, quietly, carefully. 

“I miss you every day,” Loki continued, shaky hands brushing hair back from his face, then gripping it in agony. “I-I wish we could speak, we could.. See each other.. That you could see me - see us, but... You’re not here.”

“Loki?” you muttered, and he inhaled sharply, turning around. 

Now you could clearly see the tears streaming down his face. His mouth was slightly open, but he closed it, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I- ... Darling, you shouldn’t be up at this hour,” He stood, blinking away his tears. “Go back to bed.”

You stood your ground, but tried to pick your words carefully. He looked so vulnerable, standing there in the dark, still trying to steady himself.

“No, something’s clearly wrong. Loki... How long has this been going on?”

“It doesn’t matter..”

“Yes it does.” You moved closer. He twitched - but let you approach, let you reach up to brush a tear off his cheek. More fell as he pressed his face against your palm, relishing the touch. His brows pressed together, he looked as though he could break at any time.

“Weeks,” he whispered.

“Oh, Loki..” You embraced him. He welcomed it, his arms wrapping around you, clutching you close to his shaking chest. He moved to lower himself and you followed, the both of you slowly sitting on the ground, you tucked against him, his body trembling with sobs.

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes. What had this long life done to him?

How many nights had he cried alone?

It was several minutes before either of you spoke again. Loki calmed, his nose finding a comfortable place nestled against your hair, and his breath eventually steadied. His grip loosened. The crying slowed.

“I-I’m sorry.. I’m sorry I left you,” He gulped. “This is the only way I can talk to her anymore.”

You pulled away to see his face. Tilted your head. “Her..?”

Loki’s eyes met yours. “Frigga. My mother. She..” He couldn’t bring himself to say the next word.

“I remember.” You nodded slowly.

He’d told you a while ago that his mother had died, after Thor had brought up their parents. But he never said how. 

Loki clenched his jaw. “It… It was my fault, it was all my fault-” He settled into another bout of crying.

“Loki, love - that can’t be true. I-I don’t know everything about your life,” You cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. He sniffed, swallowing again. “I don’t. I wasn’t there for all of it. But I know you. And I know you would never, ever harm your mother.”

“But I did, I did- that monster, I told it how to escape - I told it how to reach her. And it did, and she-” He stopped himself, biting the inside of his cheek. His breath grew shaky again as he forced himself to speak. “There was a funeral. I wasn’t allowed to attend - Odin would never allow that. He barely wanted me alive in the first place,” he hissed, his face contorted with rage for a moment, before relaxing again. “I found out after. By then her body had returned to the stars..” Loki turned to the outside again.

Moonlight graced his skin, highlighting the tears still glistening on his cheeks. His eyes searched the heavens, as though begging for a sign - something real, something palpable, something to tell him she was out there. 

“Loki, I’m.. I’m so sorry. But it’s not your fault. It’s not.” You spoke as gently yet firmly as you could. Giving a monster - whatever it was - directions (you figured it was to spite the Asgardians who imprisoned him) didn’t equate to murder. He hadn’t intended it to play out that way, after all. But you could understand the guilt behind it.. And you hated the fact he’d carried that burden alone.

He stayed quiet. Pulled you closer, his chin on your shoulder, his eyes still trained on the sky. 

“I wish she could meet you.” he confessed, his head leaning against your own. His arms still firm around you, his hands finding yours - your fingers intertwined. “She’d love you.”

“I’d like to meet her, too. But maybe she can see us now.” You moved closer to him, your thumb stroking his hand. You felt Loki smile next to you - it was small, and fragile, but it was there.

“Perhaps she can,” he murmured. 

“Maybe she can see how happy you are - you’re happy, aren’t you?” You glanced at him. He kissed your temple, staying cuddled up against you. 

“Happier than ever. I.. Thank you, love. Thank you for finding me. I hadn’t the heart to, to ask you to join me… I’d hate to wake you.”

“Loki, you’re important to me. I love you, remember?” You turned, facing him fully, your back to the open door. “Can you promise me something?”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he seemed willing to listen, watching you intently.

“Promise me, if you’re lonely, wake me.”

Tears glistened in his eyes again. He nodded, slowly, and managed a soft smile.

“Yes, my love,” he murmured. “I promise.”

[bicycle4two]

say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 1

Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader

Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname

Chapter One:

It’s a mystery, really, what wakes you in the middle of the night. And it’s an even bigger mystery as to why you can’t fall back asleep.

You had a fully day at work, weekends are always hell, and just because you went straight home doesn’t mean you immediately got to kick off your shoes and lounge on your couch. No. Because being an adult is never that easy. There was laundry to put away, food to cook, and clutter to clean up. Basically, the mess of the week catching up to you, reminding you that you can’t put it off forever. No matter how desperately you try to.

By the time your head hit your pillow, you were dead tired—completely exhausted especially from the last activity you did.

Said activity is lying next to you, blanket thrown over his waist, face down on your pillow, snoring softly, unaware of his surroundings. He seems to be fond of your orange silk pillow case, always making a grab for it after you’re both worn out, fluffing it up just the way he likes it. You had bought it on a whim the year before, saw something on the internet about how it’s better for your hair and skin, that regular sheets tug at your skin and take all the moisture from your hair. Or something like that.

Anyway, you’re pretty sure that whatever benefits you’ll get from the expensive pillow case would be for naught if you suffocate from it and you keep your eyes on your partner’s back, watching it rise and fall with every breath, a visual confirmation that despite his sleeping position, he can breathe.

Your gaze goes over the scars on his back, traces jagged lines and puckered skin—stories that you may never know. You can guess, there’s a million possibilities, some more likely than others, but only he can confirm your guesses, answer your questions.

And you have so many questions.

Like the meaning of the tattoos on his neck, if he’d gotten the flock of birds on a whim when he was younger or if it meant something more. Like a reminder of a life he had lived or wanted.

Like the three round scars he has on both his abdomen and back. Entrance and exit wounds. Of all the stories the marks on his body can tell, this is the one you want to know the most. It’s obvious that he’s been shot, but something tells you that these gunshot wounds are different from the others.

Like the coin he keeps in his pocket. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. A currency unknown to you. It seems fake, like a costume prop, but there’s a weight to it that makes you think that there’s a whole other world out there, something out of fantasy books.

Like his family. The brother whose call he hardly rejects. The sonogram photos he stares at in wonder when he thinks you aren’t looking. Sully, who calls at odd hours with a job that gets him out of your bed and away for weeks, sometimes even months, at a time.

You want to ask who exactly is Sam Drake. Who is the man on your silk covered pillow when he walks out your doors, denim jacket shrugged on, cigarette between his lips?

You’ve been close to Sam, as close as two humans can be, but all you’ve ever had with him has been physical. You have his body memorized, the patterns on his skin, the lines on his face, the callouses on his hands, and you’re sure that he feels the same way about you. He’s got you all figured out, knows how to make you twitch and shiver, how to make your whole body blush.

But does he know you? Does he want to?

You’re sure that it’s just you, just you who has all these questions and you feel foolish, young and naïve.

Sam doesn’t owe you answers. You don’t get to ask him your questions.

So, you keep your mouth shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and tuck yourself back into bed. All that thinking has got you tired, head aching and eyes heavy, but you don’t knock out immediately. Because it’s never that easy. You’re cold. You have goosebumps all over your skin you think about getting up to grab a sweater, maybe even underwear, but Sam turns over in his sleep to sling an arm around you and suddenly you’re warm all over—you feel it from the apples of your cheeks to the tips of your toes.

“You’re freezing,” Sam mumbles, voice heavy from sleep.  He rubs his hand up and down your back in an attempt to warm you further but you’re sensitive to his and react by inching closer to him, away from his hand.

“Oops,” he says, a little more awake. “Forgot you were ticklish there.”

You scoff, twitchy in his embrace. What you once thought was an innocent gesture, a genuine act of help, has turned into an attack. You no longer feel the entirety of his hand on your back but just his fingertips dancing on your skin. His touch is light, almost featherlike, but it’s the type that gets you squirming, has your breath coming out high and broken.

“What was that?” Sam says, mouth much closer to yours than a second ago. “I didn’t quite catch that, princess.”

“I—ah—stop that—mm,” you gasp out, pressing closer to his chest.

“Stop what?” Sam moves to your neck, lips brushing along the length as gentle as his fingers on your back, and you’re just about to jump out of your skin. “This?”

“Saaaam.”

“I got you,” Sam says before he sucks a mark onto your skin. Your body is on fire and on reflex you open yourself up to him, hook your leg around his waist and urge him to move so that he’s on top of you. Sam easily follows your lead, adjusting himself so that he doesn’t crush you, but the action doesn’t deter him from his mission, marking you to his heart’s desire.

“Please,” you say when you feel that you need his attention elsewhere, everywhere, and Sam doesn’t ask you to repeat yourself, understanding what you want from the barest of words.

He kisses you long and hard, gives you what you want, and in this moment, under this mysterious man who can understand you by the pitch of your gasps, but doesn’t know your middle name, you forget all your questions.

…

Sam should probably feel guilty.

Unlike him, she has a day job. She gets up in the morning, washes and blow dries her hair, puts on a uniform that Sam’s pretty sure he’d feel suffocated in, and goes through the motions of doing her skin care (Sam’s never seen so many glass bottles that he couldn’t drink out of in his life) and makeup.

It’s when she’s bouncing this pink, egg-shaped sponge on a particularly dark splotch on her neck that Sam goes over to her and presses a kiss to the back of her head.

An apology.

“Can’t wear turtle necks at work?” He asks, pulling a cigarette out of an almost empty pack. Damn. How’d that happen?

“I mean, I could.” She moves to pick up a brush and a new palette, lightly dusting pink powder over her cheeks. The purple marks are finally and successfully covered under layers of concealer and foundation—Sam knows at least that much. “But in this weather? I might as well leave them as is.”

“I guess it’s a little obvious.” Sam moves to her open window to light the cigarette. There’s an ash tray on the windowsill. It wasn’t always there. After all, she’s never lit a cigarette let alone smoked one. It just happened to appear one night when Sam rolled out of bed, hands shaking, and he might have said he was touched if she wasn’t sleeping just a few feet away from him.

“Just a little.” She sprays her face with some sort of makeup water. Sam has no idea what it is but she always does it after she finishes her makeup, swaying her head from side to side to spray all angles of her face. She then spritzes her wrists with perfume, tapping them on the sides of her neck as well before she approaches him, hips swaying in a way that makes Sam wish that it was her day off.

“I gotta go,” she says with a regretful smile on her red tinted lips. Sam always thought that he knew what lipstick was. He’s kissed it off of previous lovers’ lips before, had them smudged all over him, but this looks different. It’s lighter in color, a bit faded, like she bit her lips too hard. It also never found its way to his own lips or his neck or the collar of his shirt. Who knew lipstick could change so much? “Lock the door for me?”

Sam lets out a slow breath of smoke, trying his best to angle it away from her but she swats the air in front of her anyway, nose wrinkled but a twinkle in her eye.

God, she is beautiful.

All smiles and rosy cheeks.

He doesn’t know what she did to her eyes (he’d seen her bring this tiny little brush close to them a while ago but for all the things Sam’s seen, he’s always been a little squeamish about things going near eyes. Eyedrops are a nightmare) but they’re bigger than before, more hypnotizing.

Maybe he should go with her, at least bring her to the bus stop (because he doesn’t actually know where she works) so he knows she’s safe. Maybe he’d even give a stink eye to any poor bastard who even dares to look at her twice or whistle and holler. (She’s told him stories.)

But that isn’t Sam’s place. Sam’s place is right here in her bedroom, a partner for the night, a warm body to sleep next to.

In fact, it’s weird for him to be here when the sun’s up and she’s ready for the day. Normally, he’d be out the door before her morning shower, her eyes still bleary from sleep, but a year has passed and he’s been leaving later and later. There have been offers of breakfast, to watch a show they were just talking about, unexpected rain.

Before Sam knew it, he’s been walking her to the door, her spare key in his front pocket.

This isn’t the life he thought he’d have once he left prison. This isn’t the kind of relationship he thought they’d share.

He’s in uncharted territory, so to speak, unable to tell if his next move would bring him closer to his prize or plummet him to his death.

“Sam?” She brings him out of his thoughts, hands playing with the fabric of his shirt. It’s old but the cotton is soft from the years of wear, and she seems to like the worn texture. She has this look, like she wants to ask him something, ask where’s his mind has been, but, as always, she keeps her mouth shut. Afraid to ask her questions.

Frankly, Sam doesn’t know if he has the right answers.

“I’m going to be late.”

“Now, we can’t have that can we?” Sam puts out his cigarette and closes the window, locking it. Then, he wraps an arm around her, guiding her like she doesn’t know the way out of her own bedroom.

It’s just a few seconds of contact, barely anything compared to what they normally have, but it’s enough for Sam. Sam, who always wants more, is content with this. And with the way she leans into his touch, how she lingers just a second longer before she walks out her door, Sam thinks that maybe it was something she wanted, too.

  So, here’s the thing.

Sam hates to admit it but he can be a little predictable. Just a tad. A smidge. He has a way with things, how to deal with problems, damage control. Nathan called him out on it before, that he likes to do grand gestures to make up for future sins, so to speak, like the time he got a motorcycle for the kid because he was going to go away for a job and wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone.

Sam likes to think he doesn’t need to do such things anymore. Nathan isn’t attached to him anymore, he’s older now (Jesus, they both are. Where did the years go?) and has his own life. Sam doesn’t need to explain things to him, give excuses. But now there’s her. Someone who doesn’t know his life, his lifestyle, and for some reason or another, he can’t bring himself to tell her what it is he does.

How do you even bring that up?

“Hey, so y’know Indiana Jones? Lara Croft? I’m sort of like them. But better. Obviously.”

If that doesn’t get her running for the hills…

Anyway. Sam doesn’t do grand gestures, but he does do something nice. Because she deserves that, at least.

She’s surprised when she opens the door, already dressed down for the night. Sam appreciates the pajamas she’s chosen, orange patterned shorts to match a white sweater. He’s sort of tempted to keep her in, to make use of her free day tomorrow, but he reels his desires in because that’s not what he came here to do.

“We’re going out,” he says by way of greeting, an unlit cigarette between his lips because her neighbor’s a snitch, and she smiles brilliantly, all teeth, eyes turning into crescent moons.

“We’re going out,” she repeats, already slipping on her sneakers because even if she wants to act coy, she can’t hide her obvious excitement. Like this was something she was waiting for and now Sam knows that it’s easy to rope her into his shenanigans. Which… which is bad because he gets into a lot of them, but good in cases like this. “Is this a thing we do?”

“Of course it is,” Sam says confidently. Because it isn’t always sex between them. It hasn’t been for a long time, but this may be the first time that they do something outside the doors of the apartment. And that’s a shame, really. Something that needs to be remedied immediately. “We do this all the time.”

“Of course, of course. How could I forget? This is literally our thing.” She’s closing her front door, twisting the doorknob to make sure she’s locked it, and that grin is still on her lips and Sam feels young. Like just how he was before Panama.

And isn’t that some kind of miracle? That after all these years he’s still able to do things like this, to feel like this.

“So I’m all dressed up,” she says when they leave the building, wind blowing her hair into her face. Sam brushes it away for her and just because he wants to, he leans down to kiss her on her forehead. “You better be taking me somewhere fancy. I’m expecting champagne and a chocolate fountain.”

“A chocolate fountain, eh?”

“And those sausages wrapped in bacon and sushi.”

“I think you’re thinking of a buffet,” Sam lights his cigarette. “Like one of those around the world themed ones.”

She tilts her head, brows shooting up. “Or a night market. I’m really just hungry. I don’t really need the chocolate fountain.”

And Sam respects someone who knows what they want and how to get it. Because there’s no denying that face. “Only the best for you, princess.”

...

Chapter 2

Read on AO3

[bruh--wtf]

Butterflies

Remus Lupin x Reader

Main Masterlist

Part 3

Previous Next

Summary: You're Lily Evans' little sister. She isn't the only witch in the family.

Remus Lupin Masterlist

In your fourth year, again not much change. Well, a little change.

You ran down the stairs, late. It was night so your friends looked up at you shocked. You'd fallen asleep after your lessons and had slept right through your detention with Mcgonagall.

You stop behind the couch, reaching over and grabbing Remus's wrist to look at his watch. He raises an eyebrow at you. "Shit," you say under your breath and drop the boy's wrist.

"What is it?" Peter asks. Lily walks over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. A couple girls from your class chuckle at the other side of the room. Lily and the boys look over at them, confused. You curl your lip.

"Y/N, are you alright?" She asks. You look at your sister again.

"I missed it completely. I'm doomed. I'm going to be killed." She looks confused. You groaned, turning and falling over the couch. Landing next to Remus, hanging upside down.

"What did you miss?" James asks, amused.

"I'll answer that with a question. What happens when you miss a detention with Mcgonagall?" You ask, smiling innocently. The boys all turned surprised. But mainly Lily.

"Why did you have a detention?!" She exclaims. You look at your sister.

"Yeah... about that... that's... not important," you say. You open your mouth to speak again, but Sirius beats you to it.

"Not important? You've never had detention," he says. "You're the best at getting away with things." You roll your eyes. The girl from your class walks over smirking. You glare at her.

"Don't," you say, as a warning. She just smirks more.

"Y/N got in trouble for punching a Ravenclaw in Mcgonagall's class. But, hey, she won the fight at least. You know, I heard he'll be spending the night in the infirmary," she says. You quickly get off the couch, taking a step towards her, to which she scrambled back. The only reason you stopped was because Remus grabbed you around the waist. The girl quickly turned back to her friends and they all ran up to their dorm quickly.

"Those girls were scared of you!" Sirius exclaims.

"No shit," you say, rolling your eyes. Remus lets go of you hesitantly. "Why the hell did you get into a fight?" Lily asks.

"I'd like to know that as well, Miss. Evans." Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You turn on your heel to see Mcgonagall standing in the doorway. You pressed your lips together, nodding.

"Mystery to me," you say, a hint of sarcasm. Your sister looks shocked by your behavior besides you. The boys all look at eachother. Mcgonagall doesn't reveal anything.

"Come with me, Miss. Evans," she says. You glance at your sister.

"There's two of us, but I'm going to take a wild guess and assume you mean me," you say, taking a few steps closer. She just turns and walks out of the portrait. You go to follow her, and feel a hand on your wrist. You raise an eyebrow at Remus. "I kinda have to go."

He looks confused, while looking over your face. You just turn, taking your wrist out of his grasp and walk off with Mcgonagall.

That night when you finally make it back from your detention, you see the boys sprawled out throughout the common room. You were confused. Sirius was using James as a pillow on the floor and James was using Peter. Remus sat awake on the couch. You walked over, hopping over the couch to land next to him. You smile at him.

"Hi," you say. He just looks at you for a second.

"What the hell is going in with you?" He asks. You gave him a confused look.

"What do you mean?" You ask. He scoffs.

"A detention? Fighting in Mcgonagall's class? And you've been hanging around with Slytherins?" He asks. Sure, you had gotten closer with a few kids from Slytherin but so what?

"They're not all bad, Rem," you say. He nods, turning to face you better.

"I know that. But I'm not so sure about the ones you're around." You rolled your eyes.

"Oh, please," you say, crossing your arms. "They're my friends."

"I'm sure they are. But are they good ones?" He asks. You give your bestfriend a sharp look.

"Yes. They are. I like them and they like me, what's so wrong with that?" You ask. He sighs.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. They've got good judgement. But some kids from your year said-"

"What? That they're trouble makers? That they're going to be a bad influence? What exactly do you think people say about you guys?" You ask, glancing at the three sleeping boys on the ground. You roll your eyes and stand up. Or try to but Remus pulls you back down.

"Come on, Y/N. You know what? I'll drop it. For now," he says. You study him for a second, before nodding.

"Good," you say, going to stand up again but he doesn't let go of your arm.

"The guys won't wake up. Want to stay down here tonight?" He asks. You glance down at the sleeping boys. You sigh and nod, leaning back. Remus goes to stand up and you shake your head.

"Hey, if I'm staying so are you," you say. He smiles a little bit and nods.

"I know. I was just giving you the couch," he says. You shake your head again.

"Same goes for the couch," you say. He looks a little confused. You chuckle, pushing him back lightly on the couch. He raises an eyebrow at you and you lay on your side next to him. He finally figures it out and wraps an arm around you, letting you lay your head on his chest. He was warm, and a nice pillow.

The next morning you woke up to Sirius jumping ontop of you and Remus. You groaned, turning your face more into Remus's chest. You felt Remus kick Sirius off of the two of you. James goes around the ouch and ruffles your hair. You swipe at his hand without looking up.

You heard three out of the four boys laughing and felt Remus chuckling. You looked up at him, and glared. He found that even more amusing.

"Morning to you too," he says. You roll your eyes, sitting up. You never changed last night. None of you did.

"Here's what I'm thinking. Two weeks from today is a Hogsmeade Saturday. That night... we have a party?" James asks, nudging Remus's shoulder. He glares at his friend. You roll your eyes, getting up.

You go up, and shower and change.

And within a week, all the Gryffindors knew about James' party. You were in the court yard by yourself when your friend from Slytherin, Seb, walked over. He smiled, his natural smile being more of a smirk. You looked up at him.

"Hey," you say. He crouches down next to you.

"Hey. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" He asks. You raise an eyebrow at the boy. "Yes, as a date." You smiled a little. That would be your first date. And the boy had light hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. The opposite of Remus. You didn't know why that thought popped into your head, and you didn't like it.

You nod, shrugging. "Sure, I'd like that." He smirks for real now.

"Great. I'll see you Saturday." You nod and he stands, walking off. The boys walk over as soon as he's gone. Remus was next to you.

"What did he want?" Peter asks.

"To ask me to Hogsmeade," you say plainly. The boys all look at you. Sirius raises an eyebrow.

"And? What did you say?" He asks. You shrug, taking a bite of your red apple.

"I said yes," you say nonchalantly. Mary comes running over, putting her hands on your shoulders to stop herself.

"Is it true? Do you really have your first date?!" She exclaims excitedly. You stared at her.

"How the bloody hell do you know that?" Sirius asks.

"It literally just happened!" James says. She shrugs.

"I have my ways." At this point the other girls had made their way over. "So is it true?"

"Yeah, why?" You ask.

"It's a big deal, Y/N," Lily says. "Aren't you excited?"

"I guess. It's just a date. You've literally all been on them before," you say, rolling your eyes. Sirius gasps.

"But this is a momentous occasion!" He exclaims.

"Sirius I do believe our little girl is growing up. Putting kids in the infirmary and now her first date. I couldn't be more proud," James says, putting an arm around Sirius' shoulder. You glare at them as Sirius puts a hand over his heart, and rests his head on James' shoulder.

"Oh, shut up."

"It's true! I say we're losing her," Sirius says, looking at James.

"Oh no!" He exclaims. Then he glances at Peter. "Wait, it's fine, we've still got Wormtail," he says. You smirk a little. Peter frowns at his friends.

You look at Remus who was already looking at you. He made eye contact for a second, then looked at his friends.

[doc-pickles]

all's well that ends well to end up with you

After a weekend conference Jo finds herself in an unfamiliar and unexpected situation with an all too familiar face from her past.

“How was the conference?”

As Link approaches Jo she can’t help but jump in surprise, he’d snuck up on her as she stood outside of one of her patients' rooms editing their chart. She had been gone for the weekend at a medical conference in New York and hadn’t seen Link since coming home.

“It was good,” Jo doesn’t look away from the computer in front of her, typing as she speaks to Link. “Robbins is pretty amazing, I’m kinda bummed I never got to work under her as an OB. But I learned a lot and I had fun.”

Her phone dings next to her and before she can grab it Link is reading the screen with interest, “Who’s Michael and why does he want to know how your morning is going?”

Jo snatches her phone up, putting it into her pocket as she closes out of the computer. She turns and begins to walk away from Link, “I met him at the conference.”

“Does he live nearby?”

“No.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Atticus Lincoln!”

Whipping her head around Jo isn’t shocked to see the smug grin on Link’s face. He shrugs, walking past her towards the elevators as he continues his thoughts, “I’m just saying, you’re a single mom of a three-year-old who had a whole entire weekend to herself. I assume you went to a bar, got wasted, and slept with the first eligible doctor you laid eyes on.” “Wow you really do not know me at all,” Jo follows Link into the elevator, pressing the level one button. “He’s a doctor that I happened to connect with in New York. We’ve been texting, not that it’s any of your business.”

“I’m your best friend and you’re not gonna tell me about the first man you’ve slept with since…”

“Don’t try to calculate, it’ll hurt your brain.”

While she’s always more than happy that she has her college friend back in her life Jo often finds herself annoyed at his antics, the same way she assumes siblings get tired of each other. She assumes that Link does these things to get a rise out of her but she always has the suspicion that his love for life and childlike excitement has something to do with it as well.

“Well I’m glad you had a good weekend,” the doors of the elevator slide open, and Jo and Link step out. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

Jo nods as she begins to walk down the hallway away from Link, “Yes and I promise I won’t burn it this week.” Link’s laugh echoes down the hallway as Jo turns the corner towards the hospital daycare. She’d flown in early in the morning and gone straight to work meaning she hadn’t seen Luna for three days. She was more than ready to scoop her daughter up and go home to watch movies on the couch.

“Mama!”

The excited voice of her daughter snaps Jo out of her thoughts, a grin overtaking her face as she runs towards her. She opens her arms just quick enough to catch Luna as she barrels forward into her chest. Even though she was just gone for the weekend Jo couldn’t help but savor the feeling of her daughter's arms wrapped around her.

“Oh my little star, I missed you so much,” Jo pulls back and presses a kiss to Luna’s forehead. “Did you have fun with Auntie Mer?”

“Yes she did, she was a perfect angel,” Jo turns her attention to Meredith who’s standing in front of her with Ellis hoisted on her hip. “I came to check on this one, she’s got a bit of a cough so sorry if Luna catches it.”

Jo shakes her head, squeezing her daughter tighter, “It’s okay, Luna is a warrior. Thank you so much again for watching her.”

“Jo you’ve watched my kids more times than I can count, don’t worry about it,” Meredith brushes off Jo’s thanks with a grin. “So did you have fun? Adult fun?”

“What is with you and Link? I go to an MFM conference and you guys think my whole weekend was a sexscapade,” Jo rolls her eyes, grabbing Luna’s backpack and hoisting the three-year-old onto her hip. “Not that it matters but I did have fun.”

Meredith shouts her goodbyes as Jo and Luna walk out of the daycare. While she’d be hesitant to admit it out loud Jo did enjoy having a weekend to herself. She’d caught up with Arizona and Callie and even had a chance to sleep in for once. The handsome man that she’d connected with was a nice bonus as well.

As if on queue Jo’s phone dings as she climbs into the driver’s seat of her Audi, a smile lighting up her face as she reads the text.

Hope you girls are having a good night, can’t stop thinking about you.

A blush spreads across her cheeks and Jo can’t help the swarm of butterflies that well up in her stomach. While one weekend wasn’t enough to judge a whole future she was excited to see where things took her.

+

True to Meredith’s word both Luna and Jo caught the cough and cold that Ellis had. While Luna had recovered quickly Jo couldn’t seem to shake the brain fog and fatigue plaguing her. She trudged through her work weeks, adopting the same bedtime as Luna and pushing off everyone’s questioning and concerned gazes until she couldn’t anymore. After three days straight of waking up exhausted, fatigued, and throwing up Jo surrendered and called Meredith to come and get Luna. If she could barely manage to get herself out of bed how was she supposed to take care of a rambunctious toddler as well? While she waited for Meredith to arrive Jo laid in bed, phone pressed to her ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. What’s up?”

“I don’t think Luna and I will be able to make it this weekend.”

“Are you guys okay? You sound terrible.”

“Gee how romantic of you, you really know how to woo a girl.”

“Jo…”

“I’m fine just… pregnant.”

There’s a long pause, an unavoidable silence encompassing both ends of the phone. Jo knows this is the last thing he was expecting, it was the last thing she was expecting, but it’s where they found themselves.

“What’d you say?” “I’m pregnant. I took a test yesterday. Well, I took seven but still.”

Jo can hear him suck in a breath on the other side and she can’t help but wish she was telling him in person, standing across from him as he launches forward and wraps his arms around her in that pleasant rush of shock and excitement.

“From New York? It’s…” “Definitely yours. There’s not really any other contenders.”

“Holy sh-”

“I know, not exactly the kind of news you were expecting,” Jo pauses, toying with a loose thread on her comforter. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, we’ll work it out. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want to stay on and talk but I have surgery. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Talk to you soon.”

Jo hangs the phone up, falling back onto her pillows with a sigh. She had never pictured herself in this situation but here she was; a single mom to a toddler pregnant by a guy she had seen over one weekend who lived states away. The thought alone hurt her, but she knew that she could get through it.

“Was that mystery man from the conference?”

Jo nearly jumps at the sight of Meredith standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She looks down to Luna who’s sleeping soundly beside her before answering, “Yeah that was him.”

“You didn’t seem very happy to talk to him,” Meredith seats herself at the end of Jo’s bed, raising her eyebrows with a questioning look. “Trouble in paradise?”

“More like trouble in everyday life,” Jo rolls her eyes, looking up at Meredith. “Thanks for taking Luna, I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Meredith pauses, eyeing Jo warily for a moment. “Are you sure you’re not contagious?”

“I told you I have food poisoning,” Jo groans as she slips further under the covers. She wasn’t in the mood for Meredith‘s questioning today. “I’ll call if I’m not okay.”

The answer placates Meredith for now and Jo wakes Luna and sends her with her friend. She stays in bed for a few more minutes before the urge to throw up overwhelms her. After she spends half an hour hunched over the toilet she finally feels good enough to crawl back into bed, falling asleep before thoughts about her unexpected pregnancy overwhelm her brain.

Despite falling asleep quickly Jo finds that she’s restless. When her stomach finally feels settled she drags herself to the kitchen, eating plain toast before jumping in the shower. By midday, Jo feels better, save for her lingering exhaustion. Meredith texts to inform her that Ellis and Luna have suckered her into a sleepover and that she’ll bring Luna home the next afternoon. With not much else to do Jo settles on the couch with a movie.

She doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep until there’s a banging on her front door. The bright light shining through the windows alerts Jo to the fact that she slept through the night and Meredith is bringing Luna home. She jogs to the door, her apology to Meredith failing on her lips as she realizes it’s not her friend in front of her.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well you called and sounded terrible and we were supposed to meet up this weekend anyway so…”

“So you hopped on the first plane to Seattle?”

“I hope that’s okay.”

”Of course! You know I missed you, I'm just shocked.”

The rest of Jo's statement is cut short as Luna barrels down the hallway and crashes into her legs. It only takes a few seconds for Jo to realize just how screwed she is before Meredith‘s voice echoes down the hallway.

“Alex?”

The blonde doesn’t wait for a response, instead wrapping her arms around the man standing in Jo's doorway. As she pulls away from Alex Meredith looks between him and Jo before letting out a gasp.

“Oh my go-“

Jo doesn’t hear the rest of Meredith's sentence as she shakes Luna off of her leg and bolts down the hall. She barely makes it to the bathroom, the little bit of popcorn and toast she managed to eat yesterday reappearing in the toilet bowl before her. She can hear Luna calling down the hall for her, Meredith distracting her quickly. As her body heaves forward again, Jo feels a warm hand on her back and another pulling her hair back.

“I’ve only been in town for an hour and I’m having a blast,” Alex chuckles as Jo swats at him blindly. “Sorry about the throwing up.”

“I blame you for this.”

“And I blame Arizona.”

When she’s done throwing up, Jo sits back and takes a long look at Alex. Although she had seen him only a few weeks earlier she can’t help but take him in all over again. The crooked smile she’s become so accustomed to still graces his face and his presence calms her nerves more than she thought it would.

“I can’t believe you flew all the way out here.”

“You were going to fly out to Kansas with Luna, I figured the least I could do right now was help you out for the weekend,” Alex brushes the hair back from Jo’s forehead and she can’t help but lean into him. “How are you doing? I mean throwing up aside obviously?”

“Tired. And I can’t remember anything,” Jo doesn’t have a better answer for Alex, her train of thought being interrupted by Luna babbling outside the door anyways. “I should get her.”

“I can get her if you want,” Alex stands quickly, extending his hand to Jo. “I mean if it's okay with you that is. I’m just trying to help out, I can take her for a bit and you can nap.”

Jo nods in thanks, bypassing Meredith in the hallway and immediately curling up in bed. She can hear Alex and Meredith whispering but can’t quite make out their words. Luna is babbling and she can tell that Alex is responding to whatever the toddler is saying to him. As Jo drifts off to sleep once again she can’t help but feel like the future might not be as dim as she had first thought.

When she wakes up a few hours later Jo is greeted by the sight of Alex coming into her room. She pats the spot next to her on the bed and curls into Alex’s side as he settles in, his arms wrapping around her shoulder. The warmth that spreads through her as he presses a kiss to her forehead is warm and comforting, something she’d craved for far too long.

“Thank you for helping with Luna, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” there’s a momentary pause before Alex speaks again and despite not being able to see his face Jo knows he’s grinning. “We’re having a baby. Can you believe that?”

“I would say no but the constant nausea and throwing up make it hard to forget,” Jo threads her fingers through Alex’s as she rests his hand on her still flat abdomen. “We’re having a baby.”

The moment is bittersweet, the excitement of the tiny new life overshadowing the reminder that they could have already had this had Alex not left. Jo chooses to overlook that as she lets herself finally feel the excitement that’s been bubbling under the surface since she had seen the positive test two days before, “The first time I sleep with you in three years and you knock me up. I think you just missed me.”

“I did. I have every day since we said goodbye outside the airport.”

Alex’s candor makes Jo’s breath hitch. As she turns to meet his eyes she knows he’s telling the truth, but she still finds herself craving the reminder that this is real and not a dream.

“I want us to be a family, that’s what I’ve always wanted with you, Jo. I know we didn’t count on Eli and Alexis or Luna. And we definitely didn’t count on this little one,” a smile spreads across Alex’s face as he squeezes their intertwined hands still resting on her stomach. Jo can’t help the tears that well in her eyes at the small gesture. “But I can’t picture a future without all of them. Or you, I definitely don’t want a future without you, Jo. I told you in New York that leaving was my biggest mistake and I meant that. I don’t want to be a dad without you by my side, I don’t want anything if you’re not by my side. I can do it, I can live my life, but I don’t want to unless you’re there too. I love you, Jo.”

Jo can’t stop the tears that are tracking down her face. She knows she’s worrying Alex with her emotional display but her raging hormones make the task of stopping the tears near impossible. Instead, she reaches up and kisses him squarely, letting her lips linger a bit longer than she normally would. When she pulls away Alex’s eyes are still closed and he’s wearing a blissed-out expression.

“I love you too,” Jo savors the words as they fall off of her lips, not having said them in this context since the last voicemail she had left for Alex before she had read his letter. “I love you and our family so much.”

There’s nothing else for them to say, the couple enjoying the silence that surrounds them as Jo leans up to kiss Alex again and they get lost in each other. It’s an easy feat, their emotions and feelings towards each other guiding their actions as they once again fall into bed with each other. Jo knows that they have more to discuss but for now she’s content to get lost in Alex all over again.

[t-lostinworlds]

Monthlies (Tom Holland)

A/N: Hi, it’s me, with a fic. Wrote this on a whim so bare with me asdfghjkl. I’m trying to be all mysterious with the summary but I think the title gives it away aha. Anyways, here’s some sweet boyfriend Tom for your enjoyment! Hope you like it <3

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: You tend to disappear for a week every month and Tom goes to find out why.

Warnings: None but my usual typos

Word Count: 3.4k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

Your relationship was fairly new, four months in to be exact, and Tom can't help but be curious of a certain thing you do every month.

Right after you've made it official, you've asked Tom about giving you some space during a certain week of each month. Not thinking much of it, he obliged, unable to find any harm on you wanting some time alone.

However, as months moved pass, he can't help but ask as to why exactly you needed to be away.

He just wants you to be open with him is all, want you to know that whatever it is, maybe he can help you with it, regardless of how you prefer his help. But each time he brings it up, you just shrugged it off and tell him it wasn't worrisome, that there wasn't any harm done during the duration of the disappearance.

Tom trusts you with every fiber of his being, so he didn't find the need to press you further, knowing that you'll tell him whenever you're ready.

Although the thing with curiosity, it grows no matter how hard you try for it not to, and Tom wasn't any different.

He can't deny that there was something odd about it, particularly when you don't speak to him during said week until the last two days.

It was planting an unsettling feeling in him for sure, his brain creating scenarios as to why exactly you shut him out constantly, same duration each time.

Does it have to do something with him? Is being with him putting you under too much stress and pressure that you needed to get out of it and give yourself room to breathe monthly? Or is there something going on with you and that you're hiding something deeper than you make it seem?

"I don't know man, I trust her so much, and she hasn't given me any reason not to whenever we're together, but when she does these monthly disappearances I can't help but think otherwise you know?" Tom sighed, a bottle of beer cold against his fingertips as he sat beside Harrison on their living room couch. The television was playing some random show that Tom couldn't even pay any attention to as his mind was somewhere else, on someone to be exact.

"You tried talking to her about it?" His best mate pointed out the obvious, brows furrowed as he gave Tom a curious glance.

"Yeah, but she doesn't give me any specific answer. She keeps saying it's not a big deal but you only say that if it is, don't you?" Tom's whole face was covered in nothing but worry, frown all evident as his thoughts run wild as to what could be this hidden secret you're so keen on keeping.

"Maybe it's time you just find out by yourself. You do know we're she lives right?" Harrison stated, seemingly unamused because Tom could've just done it months ago if it bothered him that much.

But Tom wasn't bothered by it really, not that much anyway. He was mainly just curious, concerned. What if you're going through something and he wasn't there to help you with it? What kind of a boyfriend is he then?

Sure he could've found out for himself all those months ago, but you asked him it as a favor, and he gave you his word, why would he break that and then cause unwanted problems between you two?

With a light scoff, Tom crossed his arms over his chest. "Of course I know where she lives, she's my girlfriend."

"And when does this month's MIA week start?"

At Harrison's question, Tom checks the date on his phone, a deep sigh coming out of him when he realized when it will be. "I think it starts tomorrow?"

"Then pay her a visit tomorrow."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Tom says reluctantly but couldn't help but entertain the idea of it anyway.

If he does it, this could really go wrong either way. It's either you'd be hurt because it would look like Tom doesn't truly trust you or, he'd find something that he would've been better off without. 

"Come on mate, how bad can it be?"

***

Tom was consumed by nerves the moment he stood in front of your door the next day. His hands were turning clammy as he shifts the key you've given him from one finger to the other.

He wasn't one to show up without texting first, completely uninvited especially at the time of month you specifically asked him to leave you be.

But it was eating him up from the inside out, his patience growing thin to the point that he was close to being desperate for answers.

Two sides of himself were at war, but Harrison's words won't seem to stop echoing inside his head.

How bad can it be?

Taking in a deep breath, Tom pushed the key in and unlocked the door, that one click bouncing off the walls a little too loudly for his liking. Slowly, cautiously, he lets himself in, gently closing the door behind him as his heart beats rapidly against his chest.

"Y/N? Are you home?" Tom was met by silence, your place seeming untouched but it was warm nonetheless. Plus, it was early in the morning; you couldn't have gone out yet. Tom knows what time you usually wake up, and judging by the clock just by the doorway, you're most likely to still be asleep. You definitely were here somewhere.

Moving further down your space, Tom heard a silent whimper, his ears perking up at the sound that was coming from your bedroom. His brain was straight to jump into conclusions and he hates himself for it.

You're a sweet and kind girl, heart so pure that you couldn't possibly do anything that would purposely hurt him. But when you're an over-thinker, any rational thought seems to get pushed back, replaced by this nagging whisper, like a tiny devil on his shoulder.

Beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead as he threaded down the hall, heartbeat ringing in his ears until he reached your bedroom door, all opened wide for him to easily see what's inside.

All he saw was a form on the bed hidden under thick covers, hair — to which he assumed was yours — going astray over the pillows. Tom felt his heart calm down a little, silently scolding himself for thinking the worst when you were literally lying still and alone in bed.

A louder groan, one laced with pure pain followed by a soft yet broken sob bounced on your bedroom walls, the sheer sound of discomfort making Tom rush to your side immediately.

Dread covered his face once he took in your state, agony written all over your features as you hugged your knees to your chest, whole body curled up into a ball.

"Love what's going on? Are you okay?" Panic coated Tom's voice as he sat himself on the edge of the bed beside you, hand coming up to push a stray hair away from your face.

You willed your eyes to open at the sound of a familiar voice, pure surprise crossing you features at the feeling of his touch before it was quick to be replaced by worry and embarrassment.

"T—Tom? Why are you here? I don't want you to see me like this. I'm aah—" You winced loudly, Tom's concern only growing because the look on your face showed nothing but absolute torture, eyes squeezed shut as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. The sight was crushing his heart, just seeing you in so much pain, it was unbearable.

"Angel, please tell me what's going on? I can't help if you don't tell me." Tom was close to begging, fingers brushing your hair softly, comfortingly as the other hand gave your arm a gentle squeeze, too afraid to move you even in the slightest in fear that he might hurt you more.

He wants nothing more than to take your pain away, whatever the cause may be, but that's just it, he doesn't know why your hurt so he has no clue what to do.

Turning your head a little to meet his eyes, you frowned at him, and Tom can see than you were hesitating, doubting if you should tell him or not. But when another sharp pang coursed through your body, an excruciating stab just below your abdomen, you finally spoke, voice frail and small as you tried to suppress sob.

"Cramps."

It took three seconds, no, four when everything finally clicked. Tom could feel his cheek heat up as realization dawned on him, piece by piece falling into place, the situation at hand finally looking clear as day in his head.

"Oh."

A week every month... monthly periods.

That makes the absolute sense. Tom felt so stupid not having figured it out sooner, the facts already laid out for him but then again, how could he possibly narrow it down to that?

This was something new to him, past girlfriends not turning this serious, or simply just not finding it important at all for them to talk about periods and such.

Although, Tom can't help but question as to why exactly are you hiding away from him during his time of the month? Why were you so keen on being away from him whenever you get your period?

He didn't get the chance to ask you yet though; another heartrending groan from you was enough for him to stay focused at the task at hand: help get rid of your pain to the best of his abilities and well, the best of his knowledge too. "Okay, uhm, what do you need love?"

All you could manage to do was point weakly at your bedside table, Tom's eyes landing on an empty glass of water and some painkillers.

Tom turned back to you, a sympathetic smile playing on his lips before leaning down to give you a soft peck on the forehead. With voice soft and sweet, he hums against your skin. "I'll get you some water darling, I'll be right back."

Rushing out of you room, Tom quickly fished his phone out of his pocket, aimlessly walking towards the kitchen as he clicks on the name on his screen. He definitely needs some help with all this.

"Hey mum, uh, are you busy?" Tom sighs in relief the moment she answered. He was refilling your cup of water with a small frown, driven by nothing else but his pure concern about you.

"Not really no, I'm on my way to do some grocery shopping. Why hun? Is there a problem?"

Perfect timing.

"No, no, I just need a little favor? Uhm I was going to ask Harrison to do it but I'm pretty sure he's as clueless as I am with this stuff but uh, Y/N is on her period and she's got cramps and I'm too worried to leave her alone and—" Tom was cut off by his mother's joyful laugh, his cheeks turning a shade of red as she gushed about how adorable he is.

"You want me to buy some stuff for her?"

"Basically, yeah, and some food too." Tom chuckled shyly, hand coming up to rub his shoulder. He was thinking about doing it himself but he was sure he'd end up lost and confused down the aisle, then it would just take too long. This new experience was slightly stressing him out, just a little bit, because when it's you looking to be in so much pain, his worry just comes in tenfold.

"Of course honey. Just text me her address and any other thing that you might need."

Tom blushed as his brain, by default, goes straight to a certain thing, shaking his head quickly to rid of the thought. Never in a million years would he ask his mum to buy condoms. Plus, there are more pressing matters at hand.

"Okay mum. Oh, and one last thing, does tea help with the cramps? Should I make her some tea?"

"You go ahead and do that Tom. Hot compress helps too."

"Okay, thank you so much mum, you're a life saver. Yeah, bye, I love you."

Placing the phone back in his pocket, Tom went back to your room with the glass full, not wasting any second to be by your side, ready to tend to his princess.

Once the glass was safely placed on the nightstand, he wrapped an arm over your shoulder to help you sit up, a soft sorry coming out his lips once you whimpered ever so quietly.

"How many of these?" He asks, pointing at the medication. You held two fingers up at him, Tom handing you the painkillers and then offering you the water. "Thank you." You smiled at him shyly once he took the glass from you.

Tom smiled, hand cupping your face gently as he leaned down to give you a sweet peck on the lips. "No worries darling. Now, get some rest."

***

After sorting out the bag of goodies and necessities that his mother kindly bought — chuckling at his own stupidity once he saw that you've already stocked up beforehand on female products and he just didn't check but hey, the more the merrier right? — Tom went back to check up on you.

You've been fast asleep for almost an hour now, Tom leaving you be for the time being, not having the courage to disturb you when you looked all peaceful and serene in your sleep.

But once he reached your room, you were already sat up in bed, facing the door with a deep frown. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of him, evidently shock to see him still around. "I thought you already left."

There was something about your tone that made Tom even more curious about this whole ordeal, a small frown adoring his own lips as he went over and sat across you. "My girlfriend needs me, why would I leave?"

You looked away at that, Tom feeling his heart drop a little because you're making it seem that you don't want his company.

"Y/N, tell me honestly, why don't you want me around during this time of month?"

You sighed worriedly, still unable to meet his gaze, knowing that there was nowhere to hide anymore. "It's not that I don't want you around. I just, I don't want to drive you away."

Tom furrowed his brows at your words, everything still a jumbled mess in his head. "Why would you being on you period drive me away?"

There was a pregnant pause after that. Your eyes darting about as you tried to piece your words inside your head. Tom was patiently waiting for you to speak again, but when your fingers started to fidget nervously, he moved closer, taking your hands in his to give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Love, you know you can tell me anything right?"

You nodded, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip before lifting your head up to look at those chocolate orbs you've grown to adore, to trust.

"It's because I'm at my worse during this time. I cry over nothing and I'm always emotional. I have mood swings, I'm bloated and I look like utter shot. I'm in too much pain the first few days to the point that I couldn't get out of bed easily, couldn't even move as you've seen. I'm just... a completely mess Tom." Your voice trailed off at the end of your sentence, eyes dropping to see nothing else but your's and Tom's intertwined fingers.

The young man titled his head to side to try and catch your eyes. But when you tried your best to avoid them, he took it upon himself to let go of your hand to place a finger under your chin, gently pushing your head back up to meet his gaze.

"You really think I'd care about that darling?" Tom said, tone sweet and reassuring.

With a shrugged of your shoulders, you willed yourself not to get teary. A task nonetheless because during this time of month, you truly don't have any control of your emotions whatsoever.

"Well the past guy did, he told me I'm a handful and that I always get so pissy. He said I was too much with the mood swings and constant whining and he doesn't want to be around me when it's that time of the month. And he was right; I am too much on my period. I just don't want to put you through it too. You don't deserve it because you've been so good to me. I don't want push you away because of it. I just don't want you to leave me because of it." Tom felt his heart break at the utter sound of hurt in your voice, followed by anger and annoyance at the guy who made you think this way.

Tom scooted closer over to you, taking your arms and slinging it over his shoulder while his own took home on your waist, running his thumb lovingly on the swell of your belly. As if that simple gesture wasn't sweet enough, he moved even closer, just to nudge the tip of his nose on yours, a proud smile erupting on Tom's face at the sound of your soft giggle.

He pulled away slightly just to see your eyes, and for you to see in his the sincerity of what he was about to say.

"Sweetheart, I'm not him. I don't care if you're bloated, you still look gorgeous to me darling. If you feel like crying then so be it, let it all out, whatever you're feeling is valid no matter the reason. I'll put up with your mood swings and your attitude, because I want to be with you despite it. I want to be with you through your downs, your worst moments. I want to see all your flaws because those things make you even more beautiful to me. I'll be here with you through it all. And those moments, your imperfections, those won't change how I feel for you. Because I really, really feel so strongly for you Y/N, and it will always be above anything else."

Tom was itching to just say it, just being filled of it from head to toe, the L word that hasn't been spoken beforehand unless used as a term of endearment, but he was worried he might scare you away or it not being the right time, especially with so many emotions already swimming inside you, by the simple looks of it in your eyes. You gorgeous, beautiful eyes all glossed up with a trembling bottom lip to match.

"But I don't want to be a burden." You croaked out, a single tear escaping free, down the skin of your cheek.

"Darling, you are not a burden. It's natural what you're going through, and that fucking guy who shamed you for experiencing something you have no control over is a fucking dickhead, a complete asshole and God if I could get my hands on him I'd let him fucking have it." Tom's voice turned into a low growl at the end of his sentence, all fired up at just the thought of some stupid twat hurting such an amazing woman like you. He just can't comprehend how much of an idiot could a person be to shame a woman for being on her period. God, it just makes his blood boil just thinking about it.

"I want to be here for you, I want to be with you, all of you, always. You understand?" You nodded with a tiny sniffle, your heart growing, filling with warmth, with pure gratitude at Tom's words, with nothing but absolute...

"I love you." You whispered, Tom's heart stopping and then beating again but twice the pace as a wide and bright grin grew on his face, the words sounding oh so enchanting coming out of your lips.

Those gorgeous lips that he didn't hesitate to capture in his own, a pure sigh of content coming out of his as he whispered against the kiss,

"And I love you darling, oh so much."

Pulling away to catch some air, Tom was staring at you with so much joy, so much love, wide grin hard to wipe off as he quirked one messy brow at you.

"No more monthly disappearances?"

You nodded with a sweet laugh. "No more."

Turns out, paying you a visit was the right call. Things didn't turn out as bad as he thought it would, but Tom's not telling Harrison that.

-:-:-:-:-

Like, Reblog & Leave a Comment if you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! <3

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Chapter Five (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, GORE, MURDER.

wc; 12.2k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You take your time getting ready, slightly comforted by the idea that Finnick has it handled. If he’s down there, and a situation arises where your tributes need something, he’s there to send in the sponsor gift. You’re sure that he’s even got other mentors to keep him company if he gets bored.

Still, you find yourself unintentionally moving quickly anyway, a deep feeling in your gut that not everything is what it seems. You rush through your shower, barely get your hair done. When you get dressed, it’s very simple clothing since you’re not expecting anything special today. 

You turn on the tv to catch up on what you might have missed while you eat. Knowing that you’ll be in the betting room for a while, you eat until you’re completely full. Even then, you grab some snacks for later. Cashmere and Enobaria might have brought lunch yesterday, but there’s no guarantee that the same happens today.

As far as you can tell, all the tributes are just waking up or still sleeping. Annie and Marsh are inside of the shack, dividing up supplies and quietly discussing what they’ll be doing today. It’s hard to know exactly since there’s no volume and no motioning this time around.

You think that they’ll either continue moving parallel to the dam to the right, or set up some snares for whatever animals that lie inside of the woods. You know that would be one of the first orders of business, especially when you don’t have an endless amount of supplies to count on anymore.

The careers are sleeping in the cornucopia, not a big surprise. The girl from One is sat upright, hand gripping a knife, clearly supposed to be on watch. But she’s out cold, the early morning air tends to make a lot of people drowsy inside of the arena. They don’t really have anything to worry about too, so that just worsens it.

As for all the other tributes, they’re in their own little bubbles. District Seven is still asleep, under the cover of spring green leaves and sticks. A feeble shelter, and it’s pretty obvious that they’re there. District Nine girl is awake, she’s laying in the middle of the grass, hands over her stomach. You don’t know how she’s so nonchalant. She’s got no supplies.

Six boy is asleep, the map that the Capitol provides shows that he’s far enough away to not even worry about others finding him. Sometime in the afternoon yesterday he stopped wandering and started hunting for food. You have a feeling that he’s going to get right back to it today, it only makes sense.

The other tribute in the village is asleep, as well as the District Eight girl, who’s in the woods. No one died last night, which is a good sign. It just means that today is either going to go very slowly or too quickly. After the first day of the games, tributes slowly get picked off. When and what order is always a toss up.

You leave the apartment and head down to the betting room, forcing yourself to take your time. Finnick will be there, your tributes just woke up, there’s only one other person awake in that arena right now. However, it’s still worrying that no one knows where she is exactly. Well, the gamemakers have to know because she has a tracker inside of her, but they’re purposely not showing you guys to add some sort of suspense to it.

The betting room is fairly empty, only a few mentors mill around. Most are still in their rooms sleeping, same goes for every other Capitol citizen in this city. The first day of the games is always the most exciting. The days following is when the boring shit really starts.

Your eyes sweep the room, looking for Finnick to tell him to get to bed before the sun rises too high. But you’re only met with the friendly sight of Gloss half-asleep on the couch. Finnick is nowhere to be seen in here. You press your lips together. Maybe he just left? But the clock says that you aren’t late, and you didn’t even see him in the hallway.

He left early, didn’t he? You asked one simple job from him, all he had to do was sit here all night. And he’s not even here. Oh, it seems as if he’s suddenly forgotten just how awful you can be. He thought threatening was the only way you could get what you wanted? He’s about to see something new.

Two can play at this game. Cat and mouse won’t be fun when you’re cornered with nowhere else to go, Odair. You don’t do second chances.

If today is slow and boring, that just means tomorrow is going to pick up. It’ll decide how the entire rest of the week is going to go for the tributes inside of the arena. You’ll give Finnick one more day, let him think that he’s in control and you won’t have any sort of leverage. But then he’ll be trapped. 

You’re not sure when or how Finnick forgot that you create master plans, but he’s going to be reminded that anything he does, you can do better. You’re always two steps ahead. This is like your own personal game, you already told him you’re in control. It’s just time to prove it.

You pat Gloss’ knee when you pass in front of him, taking a seat on the couch. He hums slightly, opening his eyes to see you. A smile creeps onto his face, and he turns his head away from you.

“Good morning.” You toss a snack bag at him, and then curl your legs up beneath you, “How long have you been out here for?”

“Only a couple of hours. I’m regretting it already.” Gloss mutters, taking the snack bag and opening it up, “Thanks.”

“Figured one of us would need it.” You smile, looking at the Morning Line Odds. Only a few changes, all of which belong to the careers. Annie is still at 6-1, Marsh is at 7-1, “Is there any chance you saw Finnick down here this morning when you came around?”

Gloss thinks for a moment, “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

The confirmation from Gloss is really all you need. Even if Finnick were to bribe Gloss to keep quiet, it wouldn’t last. Gloss would take the bribe but still come around and tell you. You and him have known each other longer, he’s not going to lie to you. Much less keep information like that from you. It’s fairly important, and they all know your annoyance when it comes to Finnick.

Your silence, and probably the look on your face, tips off Gloss, “Oh, you talked to him last night?”

The smile you give Gloss isn’t exactly warm, “I waited in his room for hours until he finally came back. He didn’t even look tired. I told him to come down here and wait until eight just in case anything were to happen in the arena and…”

You motion, there’s no Finnick. No trace of Finnick, no memory lingering. He flaked. You warned him not to do it, just to wait it out. It was only a couple of hours, and he couldn’t do it. 

“Does he realize that it’s easier than he thinks?” Gloss asks, chewing.

You stare, shrug and then fall back onto the couch slightly. You’re tired, and disappointed. He’s mentored before, he knows the severity of being there just in case. The arena is a mystery, sometimes it’s even unpredictable to the gamemakers. There are hundreds of thousands of different scenarios that could happen.

One tribute could run into another. Will they fight? That means injuries, the tribute might need a sponsor to make sure they get through the night. Capitol escorts can’t confirm or deny gifts, and other mentors can’t do it for you either. Maybe the tributes will silently agree to an alliance for a minute and leave each other alone. 

Or maybe, they’ll confirm an alliance, then you’ll have to work with other mentors. The sooner you get that line of communication going, the better the connection will be. The more likely it’ll be for your tributes to get along and get the things that they might need.

Mutts are constantly around the corner, and the gamemakers have endless possibilities of what they can send inside of the arena. They’ve been working at this for decades. One dull moment inside of the arena could cost a life. Also, accidents happen too. The tributes don’t always intend to self-sabotage but you’ve seen tributes get too used to the knife on their belt and forget that it’s there. You move the wrong way, and suddenly you’re impaled.

All of this and more happens at inconvenient times. You could be just waking up, in the middle of a nap, eating, talking to someone important. Maybe you’re already sending in a different sponsor gift for another tribute and have to switch gears out of the blue. 

You need a second hand, you’re so fucking tired of running on two percent. Finnick is here for a reason, it’s to look over the tributes. He’s supposed to want to help! Those tributes have no choice but to rely on you guys, and he’s making it out to look like an option. 

And if it’s the nighttime shift that’s the problem because of how boring and slow it is, you’ll switch. The problem is, you’re not sure why he would want to do that. With his current problem still going on every single year, he should want the night shift. Basically no one is here, everyone goes home for the night except for a select few.

You should be taking the daytime anyway, because you’re on your toes better than he is. He’s gotten sluggish, he isn’t as quick as you are. It’s just what happens when you’re out of practice, or refuse to do your job for so long. You’ve picked up the ability to work quicker. But you can’t sleep quicker, or eat quicker, or speed up what’s going on inside of the arena. 

You close your eyes and rub your face. There’s several ways you can go about this, with one taking more time and potentially putting your tributes in danger. And the second one being not as self-respecting, you’ll turn heads, but it’ll get Finnick to come around quicker.

The answer should be obvious. You should want the one that will get Finnick to start as soon as possible. You’re not exactly sure what you’re subjecting yourself to if you do it, though. But you also don’t want to put the tribute in danger if it’s not needed. 

You’ll start tomorrow. You’re already down here, so you probably shouldn’t leave for the rest of the day anyway. Especially since Annie and Marsh are awake now, who knows what kind of trouble they can get themselves into. For all you know, they could come across the other tributes and immediately pounce.

“Well, you’ve got to have some sort of plan, right?” Gloss asks, you look at him, “You’re not the master planner for nothing.”

“Ha.” you let out, cracking a smile, “Oh, I’ve got plans. And I’m going to do the one I know will work first.”

“Straight to the point. Care to share?” 

“You’ll see tomorrow morning.” you wink.

Around noon is when the rest of the tributes start to get up and ready for the day. By then, Annie and Marsh have moved pretty far away from the shack. They were sure not to leave anything behind that might show the others that someone was there. It would be an open invitation for a stalker for the rest of the games.

It was smart for them to move away too, since there’s no doubt that everyone is going to start looking for water now. With the exception of the boy from Six, who’s still traveling but not as efficiently today. He probably thinks that he’s in the clear, so he can take his time. The only person that doesn’t seem to be looking for water is Three boy, who looks like he’s searching for food.

The career pack has moved to the woods, narrowly missing the Seven tributes while they’re at it. Unfortunately, the careers find the stream of water pretty easily, but it wasn’t through tracking, just pure luck. The Seven tributes follow them, so that also creates a problem. Five unwanted people now know the vague location of where Annie and Marsh had stayed. It's probably not safe to be there anymore.

While the careers aren’t in the cornucopia, the Eight girl sneaks in and gets a backpack. That’s going to change her whole game, especially since it’s a backpack from far back inside. It’ll be carrying everything she could ever hope for, with the exception of water. She’ll still have to find that on her own. 

Enobaria comes around with lunch, but there’s no sign of Wade. She lets you know that they’ll probably be taking the night shift from now on. Cashmere doesn’t mind sitting here in an empty room, and Wade doesn’t like dealing with the Capitol citizens. And Enobaria is much better at communicating what she wants from them, or getting to do what she wants.

Either way, you’re glad to have her. You, Gloss and Enobaria enjoy yourselves for the rest of the day. Like you expected, it’s a slow day. Annie and Marsh set up snares and manage to catch a single rabbit to share. They’re a couple of hours away from where they’re staying, so they have to make the entire journey back and be careful while they’re at it.

The careers tried looking for other tributes, but the District Seven tributes are smart enough to keep out of sight. The girl from Nine is still on her own little mission, she doesn’t seem like quite the threat just yet. Eight girl doesn’t find water and takes shelter flush up against the dam. While Five boy wanders aimlessly, getting to know his surroundings.

And finally, the two tributes in the village are so far apart from each other and the people in the woods that they don’t have to worry about anything. It makes for an uneventful evening, but that just means tomorrow is going to pick up. The gamemakers won’t let this go on for very long. The Hunger Games is supposed to be a show, after all.

Since you’re the only one that seems to genuinely care for your tributes, you stay well past dinner to make sure that they’re in a good position before leaving. Annie and Marsh cooked their rabbit while there was still daylight. They also didn’t move from the snares, just in case someone were to spot them. You watched as Annie applied s little more of the healing cream to her cuts before deciding that she didn’t want to use anymore just in case she needed it in the future.

After they were done eating, they moved all the way back over to the shack. With it being unoccupied by others, they have shelter for another night. You wonder how long it’ll be before someone finds the shack and decides to make it into their own place. Maybe that’ll be the push for Annie and Marsh to relocate in the village.

Either way, once Annie takes watch, short blade by her thigh, tying and untying the rope, you think that it’s as good a time as any to leave. You hug Cashmere goodbye and wish them an uneventful night. Wade does the two-finger wave from his eyebrow as a goodbye.

The apartment is still pretty lit up when you get inside. There’s no sign of Elysia as far as you can see. Knowing her, she’s probably gone to bed already so that she’ll be up early tomorrow. And Finnick is avoiding you, there’s no question about it. It won’t last long, you know he’ll be talking to you in a day or two.

You head straight to your room and order small meals on the food transport thing. Chicken, vegetables, fruits, soups, ice cream, cake, everything appears within a couple of seconds. You take your time eating, letting the drowsiness come to you. You’d rather be tired before going to bed than just laying down for hours and hoping that you’ll magically fall asleep.

When you’re full, you stack the plates in one spot, change clothes and brush your teeth before falling onto the bed. You stare off into the dark for a little while, dreading what you’ll be wearing in the morning. That doesn’t keep you from sleeping though, as much as you would have liked it to.

—

You spend a while in the shower, scrubbing your skin even after the soap is gone, trying to stall getting out. The longer you spend inside, the more you’re left to think about what you’ve agreed to. Well, ‘agreed’ to.

“It’ll only be a day.” You say, letting the machines dry your body and style your hair, “Maybe two if it really comes down to it.”

You put on shorts and a shirt first to eat breakfast, sitting at the table all by yourself. Still no Finnick, but Elysia saw you before she left this morning. She wanted to tell you that she’d be stopping by in the betting room to help you out somewhat. She can relate to the Capitol people, she can convince them that Annie and Marsh are worth betting on.

You brush your teeth, and find yourself staring at a coral pink dress. One that’s just long enough to be modest, but still shows as much skin as possible. The last time you really dressed up for the Capitol was during your Victory Tour. You don’t think you’ve worn a dress purposely since. Even during the reaping, you stick to long pants.

Either way, you pull the dress of the hanger and carefully put it on. It takes you a moment to pull the zipper up to your mid-back, since reaching is a pain in the ass. You slip your feet into white flats and then make your way back over to the bathroom.

Without focusing too much on the outfit and just how breezy it is, you carefully go through the makeup, only applying what’s necessary. Mascara, a small bit of eyeshadow, concealer if it’s dire. By the time you’ve worked through it all, you’d say that the makeup Leo does is excessive compared to what you’ve done. Then again, that’s his job.

You put on the ring, brush your teeth carefully, and then head down to the betting room. There will be no snacks to bring today, you’ll actually be eating at a place with the others nearby. And since the Hunger Games is the primary interest, you won’t miss a single thing. 

It’s half past nine when you get into the betting room. Gloss and Enobaria sit across from each other at a table, one chair open for you to take. As soon as Enobaria even catches a glimpse of you, she’s doing a double-take to make sure that she saw correctly. Gloss has his back turned, so he waits for you to come around.

“Hey,” you tuck the dress under yourself and find that it doesn’t provide as much protection as you thought. 

You looked in the mirror before you left, and you definitely can’t see anything unless you twirl. But you thought that the fabric would semi-protect you from the frigid ass chairs. It doesn’t, your face twists once you sit down. The back of your thighs are fully exposed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Enobaria laughs, eyebrows quirking inward.

Gloss stares for a second, and then snorts, “This is your plan?”

“What plan?”

You lean against the table slightly, “Okay first, the plan is going to work really good, and you’re going to realize that when Finnick comes down here tomorrow.” You give Gloss a look, he shakes his head. Moving onto Enobaria, “Second, Finnick has been avoiding me and this room so I’m forcing his hand.”

She nods, “By doing what exactly?”

“Jealousy.” You smile, “You’ll see. Just wait until it starts to get busier.”

In the meantime, you have to focus on your tributes. Annie and Marsh are already on their way to the snares, the gamemakers tune in to allow you to hear them talking about moving spots. Annie doesn’t want to stay near the dam, Marsh isn’t sure about a good time to leave.

If you were them, you’d leave early in the morning while everyone is sleeping. It’s almost a guaranteed safe path to the village. There’s no doubt that the careers are going to be sleeping in the cornucopia; it has all of the supplies and they wouldn’t want to risk anyone else getting their hands on weapons. And from what you’ve observed for years now, the lookouts always fall asleep.

If they leave just before the sun rises, the darkness will cover them. The only reason why you’d think that they wouldn’t want to move to the village is because of the water. They’re not sure if there’s water around the houses, while on the other hand, the stream is right there if they need it. They’ll be able to find it a lot quicker.

It’s only the third day, though. They can probably take another day or two before deciding to leave. The gamemakers don’t want to end the game too early, so they’re probably pretty safe by the dam. However, comparing the dam to the village, the village would be preferable. There’s only one tribute that Annie and Marsh would have to worry about. The dam has four--potentially five--tributes. And with the careers knowing about the stream now, it bumps it up to seven.

Still, your tributes get up, refill on water, and leave for the day. With that, the perspective switches to the only other group that’s really important: the careers. They’re gearing up today, getting backpacks, placing weapons in spots that you’d think is uncomfortable. Looks like they’re looking for a slaughter today. You’re not sure if they’ll even be able to get that far.

The girl from One seems to be hellbent on going after Annie and Marsh, but that’s for a good reason. Annie literally killed her counterpart, Colt, you think his name was. It’s obviously a revenge thing, it happens a lot inside of the Hunger Games. You kill a member of an alliance and naturally the alliance is going to try and come back around.

It’s a problem, though. If it were only Annie, there’s nearly a one-hundred percent chance of all three of the careers making it out alive. Even with Annie’s knowledge in fighting, she won’t be able to hold all of them off. Same thing with Marsh, he’s an excellent fighter, but at some point you’ve got to draw the line.

However, it’s not just Annie, it’s Annie and Marsh. They’re a duel package, both you’d consider at the top of their classes. There was one time you put them head to head in a fighting match, out of yours and Anchor’s pure curiosity, and you had to call it off a couple minutes in. They would have killed each other.

If the careers even dared to come at them, especially when the both of them are prepared for a fight, the careers would not leave unscathed. In fact, you think that Annie and Marsh could overpower them easily, kill all three of them and the only people they’d have to worry about in the arena after that, would be the nobodies.

It wouldn’t be an easy job to do, they’d probably get hurt in the process. You think that if they were to do it, they’d have to be the ones to initiate the fight. The problem with that is, Annie would never do that unless her life was in immediate danger. And Marsh wouldn’t want to start it by himself. A good example of this is when Colt had his eyes locked on Annie during the bloodbath. She knew that it was fight or die, so she chose fight.

Hell, if they just ambushed the careers while they’re sleeping in the cornucopia, they’d only have to worry about killing one person. Especially if they killed two at the same time. Again, the problem would be solved. It would make for a quick Hunger Games, but no one ever wants to be inside of the arena for more than a week or two. You were in there for three, and look at what it did to you.

The arena slowly begins to come to life when it hits eleven, which is also when the influx of Capitol citizen starts. You take one look over the Morning Line Odds to see that it was the same as yesterday for everyone. No one has moved up or down, probably because there hasn’t been a chance for any tribute to show off what they know.

And with that, you start your plan of moving around the betting room, talking to everyone that you can. Most you haven’t seen in a while, so it’s basically catching up like old friends. Except, you aren’t friends and you don’t really care what they’ve been up to. But as long as they think that you like them, the more likely they are to sponsor.

And with the people that you haven’t seen before, you introduce yourself and let them have their moment of realization. You’re not a living legend, you haven’t done anything special enough to even earn a title like that. It’s more like you have a habit of not opening up your horizons and allowing people to talk to you often. You approaching them is a whole new chapter of the story.

They seem to enjoy your presence, it’s not before long you’ve got your own little circle made. People of all different classes, different colors and thicker accents stand around you. They ask questions about your tributes, you give off more information than necessary in the hopes that they’ll get attached to the idea of Annie and Marsh. They ask if the interview was planned, and you tell them that you were just as shocked as everyone else. Which is obviously a complete lie, and anyone who had actually been paying attention to you or Finnick would know that.

That part doesn’t matter. What does is the fact that you’re gaining attention, and therefore people are taking notice of what you’re wearing. The mentors normally wear casual clothes, they don’t dress up nicely. Appealing to the Capitol is always the last thing that they want. Which you can completely understand why, but you’re going for the opposite today. And it’s working.

It’s sometime around three in the afternoon when the gamemakers suddenly square in on the Six boy. The room falls silent enough for you all to actually hear what the boy is saying--er singing. He’s singing some song to himself, one that you don’t recognize, so it’s probably native to District Six.

That’s not what has you all quiet and confused, though. Everyone could care less about the singing. In fact, no one really cares about the tribute in general. But if the gamemakers think that he’s important enough to get a full screen all by himself, then there’s something wrong. 

He’s wandering along a dirt path, hands swinging by his sides. He almost looks happy, being out there all by himself. You wouldn’t ever wander that far, not without knowing that there’s food or water nearby. It’s literally the only thing that can keep you inside of the arena. But as long as he’s having fun… right?

Yeah, well, one moment he’s just fine and looks like he could actually be inside of his home district instead dof the Hunger Games. And the next, there’s some sort of electrical explosion, with the audio blasting loud enough to even startle you. The boy flies back, hits the ground hard and a cannon goes off. He’s dead. District Six is going home.

You look over to Enobaria and Gloss, who look just as confused as you feel. You excuse yourself from the Capitol people and join them, “Guesses?”

Enobaria opens her mouth, closes it, and then reopens, “Maybe he reached the end of the arena?”

“But has that ever happened in the past?” Gloss asks, you turn so you can watch the screen again.

It’s full of reactions to the cannon. Annie and Marsh pause, debate, and then get back to going around their snares. The careers are unsure, One girl hopes that it’s Annie, you can’t help but roll your eyes and wait for the gamemakers to move on. As for everyone else, they’re either indifferent or they’re thinking what the rest of you are: just one more tribute out of the game. 

“There had to be one before, right?” you look at Gloss, “The arena can’t be infinite.”

“Do any of us know any older mentors that’s left out here?” Enobaria asks. 

Your eyes find Cecelia, the female mentor from District Eight. She’s sitting on some chair, hands resting in her lap while she watches the screen. But she’s only in her thirties, so it wouldn’t be that far before you and Finnick. Actually, you think all the older tributes, the ones that you’d consider dinosaurs, has gone home already. District Eleven had two mentors from twenty years or more before you were born. And Haymitch isn’t that old, but he’s got more than fifteen years on you.

“Cecelia…?” you loosely suggest, and then turn back towards them, “I don’t know.”

“Well, at any rate, your Capitol friends are missing you.” Enobaria says.

You all look over to see that they’re beckoning you over, waiting for you to join them. It’s only been a couple of hours and you’ve already left a lasting impression. Enobaria says that she’ll ask Cecelia, you go ahead and go back to what you were doing before. 

You stay with them, but don’t pay as much attention. The tribute dying like that shouldn’t be this important to you, but you’ve never seen it before. Knowing stuff like this for the future of the boarding school is important. The more you know, the more you can advise tributes. It increases efficiency. Plus it’s something you’d never expect, so you wouldn’t really think of it in the first place.

Maybe Mags will know, or Anchor. You’ll just have to ask them when you get back home. It’s not worth the phone call. Plus, you’re sure that all the times that you’re available, they won’t be. Unlike you, they actually go to bed at regular times. They don’t need to stay up at all hours of the night.

And if Cecelia knows, then she can give you an answer. Sometimes she has the older male victor, whatever his name is. He won a couple of years after Mags, but he’s not doing so hot. While Mags only had a stroke, you’ve heard about his medical stuff in passing. He’s basically deteriorating. Well, in that case, he probably won’t have any recollection.

When the evening starts to become more prominent, people start leaving for supper. You find yourself saying more goodbyes than holding conversation at all. You’ve learned a lot today, like how you’re not exactly in Finnick’s shadow as much as you thought you were. And Annie is actually pretty adored for her mannerisms.

You find yourself back with Gloss and Enobaria, falling onto the couch and rubbing your feet because they hurt from you standing for so long. Enobaria tells you that Cecelia hasn’t seen anything like it before, more like heard about it. Coming across reruns of previous Hunger Games is hard, mostly because the capitol is all about the Hunger Games that’s happening right now.

But that doesn’t mean that it can’t be passed from mouth to ear. With that, Cecelia briefly joins your table, pulling up a chair with a polite smile. You’ve talked to Cecelia before, she’s got a motherly aspect to her, and that’s because she has a couple of kids of her own. She got married after her Hunger Games, which is not something a lot of victors tend to do. No one wants the chance of their children going through what you’ve already been through.

Unless something happens, you think that you won’t be having kids, either. Worrying over Alyssum is already giving you grey hairs, and she’s seven. You’ve already decided that she’s going to start the training early, as soon as she hits nine, she’s going to be in the boarding school as often as you can get her in there. And unlike the other kids, she won’t be starting slow.

Anyway, Cecelia starts at the very beginning by asking you three if you know Haymitch’s Hunger Games, which is an obvious yes. He was a Quarter Quell winner, he went up against forty-seven other tributes. And while his arena looked like heaven, it was a disguise for the worst imaginable nightmare. He couldn’t trust anything inside.

Well, Cecelia says that Haymitch briefly teamed up with one of the girl tributes from home. The two of them wandered for a while, even forcing themselves through hedges with fire. But when they got through, they found out that it was a cliff with jagged rocks at the bottom. Cecelia immediately relates this back to your games, saying that the cliff was basically a copycat.

Haymitch wanted to stay at the cliff, the girl wanted to leave. They said their goodbyes, but it wasn’t long until the girl was dead because of some pink birds that speared her throat. Later, two more tributes would end up dying in their own horrifying ways, leaving just Haymitch and a girl career to fight it out.

“It was a gorey fight.” Cecelia says, her voice quiet as if she doesn’t want to offend Haymitch. But he’s nowhere to be seen, in fact, he’s probably back home by now.

The girl had lost an eye, but not before Haymitch’s stomach had been completely cut open. Haymitch ran through the beautiful landscape, holding his intestines in while being chased by the career girl. He led her all the way to the cliffside, ultimately cornering himself. 

You picture yourself side-by-side with Haymitch back when you were in your own Hunger Games. Half-dead, suffering from typhoid, the only thing running through your body anymore was adrenaline. It was fight or die, and you didn’t want to die. You were so close to going home.

And Haymitch, holding in his stomach, back to the cliff, knowing that he led her there for a reason. It was to stall, to tire her out and have a sliver of a chance at making it back home by some miracle. You and him were practically the same age when you won the Hunger Games. While Haymitch was sixteen, you were fifteen.

Cecelia says that the career girl threw the ax she was carrying just as Haymitch collapsed to the floor. The ax flew over the side of the cliff, officially getting rid of the only weapon she had. While she tried to stop the bleeding from her eye, Haymitch was seizing on the ground. He was probably minutes away from death.

She pauses for a moment, “And then the ax came back.”

“What?” you three ask at the same time.

“The ax came back up and killed the career girl, making Haymitch the victor. It happened because Haymitch reached the end of the arena. The forcefield or whatever it was at the bottom threw it back. It’s the same technology that’s used with the balconies to keep tributes from jumping off.” Cecelia says.

She’s right. You even showed Annie and Marsh yourself. You knew that the arena wasn’t limitless, that it had to stop at some point but you didn’t think that it would be built like that. You thought it would be some sort of unbreakable wall that the tributes wouldn’t be able to get through.

Okay, well, this changes a lot, actually.

Cecelia wraps up the story, telling you that Snow thought that Haymitch collapsing was an act of rebellion. Because of it, Haymitch had his entire family and girlfriends at the time killed because of it. This is just another puzzle piece to the misery that is Haymitch Abernathy, but at least some of his actions nowadays can be explained. If you were him, you’d probably turn to drinking too.

You all bid Cecelia goodbye when she leaves, thanking her for the information. Annie and Marsh have just reached their shack again when the sun begins to set. You don’t want to stay in the betting room for any longer than you have to. Plus, now you’ve got to ask Elysia why she didn’t make it down at all today, not that you really mind. You’re sure she would’ve had a mouthful and a half to say about what you’re wearing.

You hug Gloss and Enobaria, “Finnick will be with you tomorrow, right?”

“More than likely.” You give them a slight grin, “If he doesn’t look very happy, don’t be surprised.”

“Evil genius.” Gloss mutters, you elbow him.

“Goodnight, good luck with your tributes.”

“Thanks.” Enobaria waves, you leave the betting room while you can.

The dress wasn’t all that bad by the end of the day. It was hard to get used to at first, and the paranoia of others staring was a constant in your mind. But after you got into conversations, it was easier to forget what you were doing. If the Capitol wasn’t the way it is, you think that you’d like to stay here permanently.

Laurel is sat at the table when you get up, and you guess that instantly answers your question about where Elysia has been. They’ve probably been working together at Laurel's place. As much as it doesn't seem like it at times, Laurel actually enjoys the company of others, especially when she’s sketching out new ideas for the tribute parade and whatnot. Normally she relies on Pleurisy for the company, though, so something must’ve changed.

At first, no one seems to actually comprehend your presence until you’re standing at the table in front of them. Only then does Elysia stare at you, Laurel minimally raises her eyebrows before going back to sipping on her red wine. She doesn’t care, you’re sure that she actually enjoys you putting her designs to use for once.

“Finnick around?”

“Just left. You missed him.” Elysia says.

He must’ve taken the other elevator, which brings him to a different part of the building. It’s away from the betting room, and it’s a long walk to get to. But with his determination at avoiding you, you’re sure that anything is possible when it comes to him. Hers managed the couple of days thus far, who knows how long he’d try and keep it up for if it was his choice.

Fortunately, you’re smarter than him sometimes. If it were you, you probably wouldn’t have tested your own patience and wit after the reaping on the train. Really, it doesn’t take a genius to know when someone isn’t fucking around. After the whole week that you just went through, you’d think he'd know that by now.

At any rate, you eat dinner with Elysia and Laurel. It’s not at all quiet like it has been the last couple of days. In fact, the entire reason why Laurel is here in the first place is to discuss whether or not you think that Annie or Marsh is going to win. She wants to start preparing the outfits now, because the sooner they’re done, the better. It’ll leave room for you guys to focus on other matters.

Of course, your answer is yes. There’s no doubt that your tributes have a fighting chance. There might be half the arena still in the game, but it’ll only be a matter of time before they’re gone too. At the beginning rate that they were dying at, you knew that the games would be over quickly. A week and a half you said, and the half is already over.

Laurel’s glad to hear that you have confidence in the tributes. After dessert, you stick around them for a little while, only leaving when you've been assured that they won’t need your opinion for anything else. With that, you go to your room to wipe off the makeup and go to bed. 

It’s a rinse and repeat the following morning. You think that it can’t hurt to get ready just in case Finnick hadn’t caught the word yet. But you’re sure by now that a lot of the Capitol has heard how vulnerable you made yourself yesterday. Either way, you wash your hair, do it in the same style it was before you pulled it out last night, and then put on the dress.

Yesterday it was a coral pink, today it’s long-sleeved and has white lace. You use the same white shoes, since they’re not scuffed and they actually match today. You take your time in the bathroom, slip the ring over your finger, and make your way out of the hallway. You haven’t put this much effort into what you look like since after your Hunger Games, when the reporters were everywhere and taking pictures. You didn’t really have a choice.

You’re two steps out of the doorway when you see that the table isn’t vacant this morning. You pause for a moment, staring at the bronze-colored hair. His back is turned to you, which is unfortunate since you have a smug grin on your face. You’d love for him to see just how victorious you are.

See, Finnick can run and hide, but you know how to bait and hook. It took one day of showing skin and getting the Capitol riled up to draw him out. A part of you wishes that he would’ve stayed back a little while longer, just to see how much he could tolerate before it was too much. But you’re glad that he’s made it easy for you.

You head down the three steps, passing by him to take your seat at the other end of the table. You can’t even do that, Finnick grabs a hold of your wrist tightly, spinning you towards him. When you make eye contact, you see that he’s glaring, straight-faced. You can’t say that you’re surprised, you knew that he wouldn’t be happy. Having your hand forced is never a pretty sight.

“Go change.” He says, not letting you go.

Your face twists, “No—“

“If you want me to help, you’ll go and change.” Finnick says.

You squint at him, “You’ll help me for the rest of the games.”

Finnick nods, letting you go. You stand there for a moment. If he goes back on his word, you can just try the second plan. This also gives you an excuse to not wear this in the betting room. Without a word, you go back to your room.

You don’t have a lot of time, so you end up changing into jeans and a white shirt, slipping on laceless tennis shoes. The makeup can stay because it’s not all that noticeable anyway. It’s just there to accentuate what you already have. You join Finnick at the table again, eating in silence.

When you’re done, you quickly brush your teeth and meet him at the elevator. He jabs his thumb into the button, calling the ride to you two. You get in first, press the button to the betting room, and head all the way down. At some point, Finnick crosses his arms, staring at the door in front of him.

“You’re so stupid.” Finnick says.

You look at him, eyebrows raised, “Excuse you?”

He shakes his head, “You can’t just go out and do shit like that. You’ll cause problems for yourself.”

“Finnick, as much as you like to think I’m oblivious, I’m not.” You snap, “You think I dressed up without knowing what the Capitol would say? What they would think?”

“Well, you were stupid enough to try it a second time!” He bursts.

You stomp towards him, swiftly grabbing his shirt collar to pull him to your height. Much like how you grabbed Wade, but this time Finnick can’t push himself away to escape. Not when you slam his back against the glass wall, trapping him here.

“Do not speak to me like that.” Your voice is measured, but you’d love to beat him to near death in here. If there is one word that doesn’t describe you, it’s stupid. You’re not stupid. If you were stupid, you wouldn’t have made it out of that arena alive with Finnick, “Do it again, you won’t like what happens. After all your shit that I’ve put up with, you owe me some respect.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” Finnick’s confidence is admirable, but he should really learn when to keep his mouth shut. The fact that he doesn’t seem bothered at all pisses you off more.

You let go of Finnick’s shirt with one hand, seeing the wrinkles that you’ve left behind on the collar. But with the one hand that still has a tight grip, you twist your hand, and throw him to the other end of the elevator. Your hand slaps the button that’ll keep the elevator in place. Finnick might have been able to catch himself, since the elevator is so tiny, if it weren’t for your foot that you kicked out in time to trip him.

He hits the floor, turns to sit against the wall, and stares at you with wide eyes. Your breathing has increased, a tightness growing in your throat, “I am so fucking sick and tired of your fucking attitude!” Your voice is loud, “I have done nothing but let you off easy for the past week, and this is how you treat me?”

Your fingers curl into fists, “All I wanted was help. I asked for your help. I even gave you the fucking nighttime to make it easier for you. There’s no one in there at night, which means that you’re not put in any sort of danger. And I get it that it’s a little hard to trust me and realize that I’m working in your best interest, but it’s true.

“So do me a fucking favor.” you suck in air through your teeth, relaxing your hands and pressing the button again, “And stop acting like I’m beneath you. I’m not, and if I was, I would’ve stooped down to your shitty level and stopped paying attention to our tributes too.”

The doors open, you place your hand out to keep them from closing, “This is not a game, and if it was, you would’ve lost by now.”

You start off without him, getting more than halfway down the hall before you finally hear him following. When you get inside of the betting room, you see that neither Gloss or Enobaria are sitting on the couch. In fact, they’re standing in a small group of people by the sponsor table.

You check the Morning Line Odds to see if anyone has died. They shouldn’t have run out of food already, and they know where water is. If they’re getting sponsored right now, that means they got into some sort of fight. Which means that someone should’ve died but there’s no new faces greyed out.

The only real difference is the odds, Marsh has gone from a 7-1 to a 6-1. Same goes for a few of the other tributes, they either increased or decreased, with the exception of the careers, who still hold the same odds that they had yesterday. The girl from One is a 4-1, the girl from Two is a 5-1, and her district partner is a 3-1. 

You head towards them, wanting to hear what’s happened. The screen is showing anything too interesting, it’s the same thing it’s been for the past two mornings. The only change is that the careers are awake this early in the morning, and they’ve got a bigger spot on screen than usual.

Enobaria sees you through her peripheral, and moves slightly so that she can talk to you. She also spares a minor glance behind you, and you do the same to make sure that Finnick hasn’t found a way to disappear into thin air. He hasn’t, he’s actually still coming towards you.

“What happened?” you ask.

Gloss looks over at the sound of your voice, and then does the exact same thing that you and Enobaria just did to see Finnick, “A scuffle.”

Enobaria snorts, “A lot more than a scuffle--Sanguin would’ve killed Geare if it weren’t for Vanilee!”

You blink. “Who?”

“Sanguin is my tribute.” Gloss says, “She got into a fight with Geare, Enobaria’s male tribute. It was a disagreement, and it escalated a lot more than it should’ve.”

“And Vanilee is the girl, who nearly got killed for stepping in.” Enobaria glares at Gloss for a second, and then she turns her eyes on Finnick, “Do you know what personal space is?”

“Don’t you have something more important to focus on?” Finnick retaliates.

Enobaria doesn’t say anything else to him, turning her back, “Anyway, no one died but they’re hurt so we’re organizing two separate gifts to send. Sanguin went off by herself to the village.”

Well, you’re not sure what she’ll be trying to find at the village. There’s only the Three boy hiding out there, and there are far too many houses to just start randomly searching. It’s not like she even knows that the tribute is out there, anyway. Your best guess is that she went to clear her head.

When they start talking about who’s to send first, Enobaria immediately interjects, “I should send mine first because Sanguin attacked Geare.”

“Oh, give it up.” Gloss says, “If your tributes had a shred of common sense, they’d be listening to Sanguin.”

“Except Sanguin just wants revenge.” Enobaria bites back, bearing her sharp, white teeth, “Annie and Marsh don’t pose that big of a threat, anyway. They’re in the woods surviving, not actively killing anyone. Annie got lucky that Colt was a fucking moron.”

Gloss opens his mouth, but Enobaria’s moved onto sending the sponsor gift. He gives you a look, “She acts like her tributes wouldn’t be desperate to do the exact same thing if Annie killed one of them.”

“True.” you mutter, “I don’t think your alliance is going to last very long.”

“Neither do I.” Gloss says.

The two of you look up at the big screen. It’s focused on Sanguin, who has her sword’s blade flat on her shoulder so it’s easier to carry. She must’ve started walking only recently, because she still has a few hours to go. It took the careers basically the entire day to get to the village on the first day.

There’s a small video of the Three boy going on in the corner. He’s no longer inside of his house, and with the sun shining on him, he looks extremely pale. He places his hand against the nearest wall to keep him upright, squints through the sunlight, and then starts his way out of the village.

“Oh shit.” you say. 

Enobaria sends in her sponsor gift, her tributes get it just fine. And even though it’s technically his turn, Gloss doesn’t move from where he stands. He clearly wants Sanguin to run across Three boy, and sponsoring her would ruin that. She’s in a specific mindset, he’s unarmed. And you suppose this could be a way for her to blow off steam. The poor boy is a pacifier to her growing agitation.

You take a step back, wanting to find a better place to stand, and find that Enobaria wasn’t exaggerating about Finnick’s close presence. You bump straight into him, his hands find your shoulders, directing you around Gloss. You try and shrug off his hands, but he doesn’t let go. So this is how today is going to be, a fucking irritation.

Sanguin is still a while away from the village, if anything is going to happen between her and the Three boy, it’s going to be an hour or so away from now. At the pace she’s walking now, she’ll be there before or after noon. So, until then, you can focus on your tributes and the Capitol people around you.

You move around the betting room, Finnick keeping close behind you. You try not to be annoyed with it, silently wishing that he’d chill out and sit somewhere if he’s just going to hover like this. But you don’t brush him off, you wanted him down here, so now you’ve got to put up with it. Not to mention, you have two older brothers and a younger sister, you’ve dealt with more than your fair share of annoying people.

Still, you can’t help but to wonder if he’s being like this on purpose to try and make you tell him to go away. He stands too close, he’ll have his hand on your arm, shoulder or elbow while you talk to people. The good thing is that the people don’t ask about it. Hell, they hardly seem to notice it in the first place, or they’re just being extremely polite, which is a whole new ordeal.

Annie and Marsh go out to their snares for lunch, the District Seven tributes catch their own animals to skin and eat. The other two--potentially three--tributes in the woods are focused on getting water and finding food. Whether it be an animal, berries or some roots from an edible plant.

At around ten, Sanguin has almost made it to the village. Three boy was further in than all of you thought, and at the pace he’s going, he’s clearly miserable and out of his mind. He drags his feet through the dirt, creating a literal snail path behind him. If Nine girl were inside of the village, all she’d have to do is find the path and follow it to him.

You’re also able to watch your tributes come around to their snares, moving from one to another. They’re used to seeing some empty by now, there’s not always going to be some rabbit or squirrel strung up in the air. However, every single one that they’ve come across this far is bare. Either they’re not going to eat tonight, or they need to start a plan b.

Or, you can always start your own plan too.

You give Gloss and Enobaria a smile, “I’ll be back.”

“Going to make sure your tributes don’t starve?” Gloss asks, snorting slightly.

“Yup.” you turn to Finnick, “You don’t have to come, this’ll only take a second.”

He’s got this dead look in his eyes, partially because he clearly didn’t get enough sleep. He was obviously banking on the hope that you wouldn’t go and pull something like you did yesterday. Sleep during the day and be up all hours of the night. Another whole reason why you think that he’s not the brightest light bulb in the box.

Anyway, he pushes himself up from the couch. You start your way towards a certain group, you’ve known them for a while now, but Finnick places a hand on that arm to keep you from going.

“What the hell--”

“Not them.” Finnick says.

“They’re fine, I’ve worked with them for years.” you turn towards him, grabbing his hands out of irritation, “Quit it.”

Finnick doesn’t look bothered, “(Y/n), we’ve spent time in the Capitol in two different ways. You know your way around mentoring and how to get the best possible result out of the week, and I know the way that the people think and what they want to do just by how they look. For once, trust me on this. You want to stop being around them before it’s too late.”

You let go of his hands, taking in a deep breath. There can’t be any collaboration without cooperation on both parts. You know this. And he’s not wrong, either. You both have two different areas of expertise at this point. If he’s sure that the second group will give you the same outcome, then you might as well.

“Okay, thank you.” you flash him a smile before heading towards the group he wanted you to be at.

They’re not so bad, they just don’t know you as well. But after a couple of minutes of talking with them, even Finnick has pitched in a few times at some points, they’ve warmed right up to you. A man mentions how he wishes he could be more of a help to them, and you jump at the opportunity in the most responsible way possible.

In no time, you’re sending in a feast to your beloved tributes. You thank the group of sponsors a lot, and spend the next hour talking to them about what foods Annie and Marsh seemed to have liked while they were here. It makes the hour go by faster, you go and join your friends on the couch once you're done. And it’s just in time for Sanguin to make it to the village.

Unfortunately, by then the Three boy is visible. Sanguin catches sight of him, he sees her, and suddenly a hunt has begun. The boy ducks out, disappearing into an alleyway, Sanguin doesn’t waste time running after him. Even with the state that the boy is in, he still manages to move quickly. There’s no doubt that it’s adrenaline.

He’s weaponless, might even be hopeless when it comes to defending off Sanguin. If he can lose her in the maze of houses and find a good hiding spot inside of one, you’re sure that she’d have a harder time finding him. She’s already seen him, so there’s no point in thinking that she won’t just go ahead and search. She’s got plenty of time on her hands, and no motivation to go back to the cornucopia just yet.

He’s more awake, running but not running. He’s trying not to be loud, but Sanguin is following him without a problem. He turns a corner, she follows it moments later. It’ll take more than just running to get away from her, and it doesn’t look like he has any other option than to run. He’s going to get tired eventually, all Sanguin will have to do is outlast him. 

Well, Three doesn’t even get that far. He’s getting reckless with swinging his foot around corners, trying to cut them. One bad move from him, and he’s sprawled across the dirt, a cloud of dust getting kicked up because of how hard he hits the dirt. As if that weren’t bad enough, he starts coughing, gasping to breathe. It doesn’t take a genius to know he has asthma. No wonder why he was having a hard time breathing quietly while he was running.

Sanguin comes around, sword swinging off of her shoulder. It clips the wall next to her, a chunk of cement goes flying. She pays no attention, eyes on the boy. His face is red from running, he’s got his shoulders pressed to the dirt but his head has risen enough to see Sanguin. He watches her come closer, not moving.

She doesn’t say anything to him, just lifts the sword and swings. You all watch in silence, prepared for it to be a quick death, but then he rolls out of the way. The sword hits the dirt, he wraps his foot around the back of her ankle, lifts, and she fails to catch herself before falling.

He’s smart, scrambles to his feet and takes off as fast as he can. It’s not quick, though. Sanguin is tired of the running, she gets out of the alleyway, and then throws her sword diagonally. It’s over for the boy, then. He can’t see the sword coming, which means he can’t move out of the way. The blade flies right into his back, next to his spine. 

Blood splatters against the wall in front of him, he collapses face-first into the dirt. Sanguin takes her time going over there, now. You imagine that if he hadn’t run in the first place, he wouldn’t have suffered like he is now. Gloss gets up from where he sits, heading to get the sponsor gift in life, three and a half hours later. Sanguin grabs the hilt of the sword, lifts, and then slams the tip through the back of the boy’s head. 

One cannon, ten tributes left in the games. Three in the cornucopia, seven in the woods. Annie and Marsh should move soon.

Sanguin gets her healing cream, which is paired with a bottle of water. Sanguin sits against the wall where she killed the Three boy, trying to catch her breath before she heads back. It’ll be another three hour walk, it’ll be late afternoon by the time she gets back around. 

All that’s left to do today is sit, wait, and watch. Annie and Marsh keep rationing out their food, enough to keep them energetic, but still saving some for tomorrow. They spend their time setting up extra snares, lower down into the woods as a backup just in case tomorrow is an empty day too.

District Two stays in the cornucopia, they’ve got food and water, they’ll last until tomorrow. The Nine girl is eating some berries she found in a bush, which makes you all think that she’s in the forest, but Enobaria points out that there’s bushes near the village too. However, that means she’s pretty far into the village, and it’s not completely cleared yet. And that just doesn’t seem likely. And since the Nine girl is resourceful, she’s found other ways to get water.

The Seven tributes eat soft bark off of the trees, sticking to their stick and leaf covers. They seem like they’ve adjusted to the woods pretty fine, talk about a stereotype. If they weren’t cliched before, they are now. The Eight girl has made it to the stream, she drinks water out of her hands, splashes her face and sits there for a while.

Five boy has found his own source of water, he’s on the verge of being exposed, though. If you were standing by the outside tail of the cornucopia--as the mouth is facing the field--he’d be on the far left. Which isn’t a bad place to be, since the right is pretty crowded with people because of the stream of water. But it makes for a problem because he’s still seeable. 

The tributes left right now seem to be the ones that know what they’re doing. If you die in the bloodbath, clearly you have no common sense. The four that died in the village were straight unlucky, but it was ultimately inevitable because the careers were hunting. They’re going to kill more tributes after the bloodbath. And it was also lucky that they came across that many tributes.

Six boy was too smart for his own good with trying to run away. He couldn’t have known that there would be a barrier like that at the side of the arena, so he’s not really the one to blame here. And Three boy might have been the only stupid tribute that was left because of how long he waited out getting water. Plus, he was probably pretty hungry by then too. He almost had Sanguin, but then again he wouldn’t have made it very far anyway.

With all the tributes in their own spots, away from each other and hours away from any conflict, you think that it’s calm enough to go out and get food real quick. You know a place just down the street. Of course, you’re nervous to leave the betting room, every single year that you mentor, you stay just in case anything happens. Even if you’re hungry, or thirsty, or need to use the bathroom, you stick it through.

On your way out, you invite Cecelia to go with. She declines at first, but when she sees that her girl tribute is doing fine, she comes along. You introduce Finnick and Cecelia, and then explain yesterday’s events to him so that he understands why you know her. Afterwards, she’s telling the story of Haymitch’s games so it all makes sense to him.

The restaurant has tv’s set up so that you’re able to see if anything happens. And with choosing a table by the door, it makes for a quick and easy escape if need be. You enjoy yourselves in the meantime, sharing food and making predictions as always. With Cecelia added, her experience with the past games is actually pretty insightful.

The only problem is that she’s the last winning tribute of her district, so she doesn’t know what to do when it comes to training tributes exactly. Her mentioning that was probably the worst idea ever, because suddenly you, Gloss and Enobaria are giving her different pieces of advice. Eventually she has to start writing down what you guys say because it’s too much to remember.

She can’t get a boarding school started, so instead she’ll just have to work her ass off during the Capitol week. Districts One and Two have been established for years, so their advice is a little harder to understand. But since District Four has just recently gotten on their own two feet, you’re able to relate to her level. Cecelia is genuinely grateful, and she never stops thanking you guys for the help.

This time around, you pay for lunch since Gloss paid last time. Since your tributes hadn’t been up to anything important, you don’t have to rush back to the betting room. Sanguin should be arriving at the cornucopia in the next few minutes, Annie and Marsh are exploring further to the right, away from where everyone is currently. And Eight girl--whose name is actually Bauhinia, after the flower--was up against the dam.

It’s four in the afternoon when you get back, and it’s only an hour later when the Capitol people begin to leave. Annie and Marsh make their way home to the shack, the careers make up and apologize to each other. Sanguin tells Vanilee and Geare that she was the one that set off the cannon, she couldn’t tell who it was though, only that it was one of the guys and definitely not Marsh.

By seven, only a couple of Capitol people are still around. You, Enobaria, Gloss, Finnick and Cecelia sit around a table talking to each other. At least you’re friendly with Cecelia now, you’re not sure how that’s going to hold up next year. But then again, she’s used to her tributes dying in the arena. After a while, it’s hard to hold a grudge. Unfortunately, that might mean she’ll end up like Haymitch in a couple of years.

For a while, Enobaria and Gloss play the same get-to-know-you game that they played with Finnick, with Cecelia. You end up learning a lot about her and the district that she’s from this way. It makes for interesting conversation when Enobaria asks her the weirdest way that Cecelia can probably kill someone, and she says a sewing needle.

Which only starts hypothetical situations in which you all are back inside of the Hunger Games, and have to get creative with items to use to kill people. Rocks, tree bark, water, dirt. Enobaria says that she genuinely considered shoving a tributes face in the dirt and holding them there until they died.

“Wouldn’t they just be able to move their mouth off to the side?” you ask, feeling a little ridiculous for asking the question in the first place.

“I don’t think so.” Enobaria says, “They’d be face down.”

“No, (Y/n) has a point.” Gloss shakes his head.

“Do you want to test it out?” Enobaria gives him a look.

“Is there any dirt nearby?” Gloss asks back, “Because I bet a thousand that I’m right.”

“Oh, you’re on.” she says, looking behind her. 

There’s a planters box on the far side of the betting room. Enobaria and Gloss get up and go over, which means that you, Finnick and Cecelia follow. Gloss gladly hops over the cement wall that keeps the dirt inside, and lays down face-first as nonchalantly as possible. He looks awkward doing it.

“Alright, if you feel like you’re dying, just kick your feet and I might let you go.” she says, sitting on his back.

“I won’t call uncle.”

“You will eventually.” she says, and then shoves his face into the dirt.

While Enobaria tries to kill Gloss with one of the five elements, Cecelia talks, “I used to do stuff like this with the other mentors, but that was a while ago.”

“You’re welcome to join us any time, Cecelia.” you give her a polite smile, “Even in future games. We can’t really blame the tributes for killing each other, everyone wants to survive.”

Well, the careers--including District Four this year--all do it to themselves on purpose for the fame and money. With the other districts, they typically have no choice and they’re the ones being picked during the reaping. But you get what you’re saying, right?

“Thanks.” Cecelia says, and then looks to Finnick, “Haven’t seen you in a while, how are you doing?”

It’s friendly conversation, you listen as Finnick tells her that he’s been busy. She doesn’t pry, taking his word for it. It’s better that way, you’re not sure what he’d say if she did ask, anyway. Finnick’s still got a hand on you, too. You guess that the very last people inside of the betting room aren’t all that great. Otherwise you’re sure he would’ve let you go by now.

“Are you dead yet?” Enobaria asks.

“I’ve been breathing the entire time.” Gloss says, and then he starts coughing and spitting because of the dirt in his mouth. Enobaria gets off of him, he closes his mouth and grits his teeth, and you can literally hear the crunch of the dirt between his teeth.

“Oh,” you laugh, covering your mouth, “Gross.”

Everyone is laughing, Gloss struggles to find a glass of some sort of liquid to wash it out of his mouth. There’s dirt down his shirt and pants, and it’s even ruined his clothes to some extent. When he’s finally able to rinse and spit the dirt out, he looks at Enobaria, “As long as they don’t speak and breathe through their nose, I’m sure they’d be able to survive.”

It’s a good way to wrap up the night, so you hug your three friends goodnight just in time for Cashmere and Wade to come around. Back on the Four floor, for the first time in a while, you’re actually able to eat with both Elysia and Finnick. You don’t talk much with each other, just tell Elysia what you had done today.

After dinner, Elysia goes to her room, leaving you and Finnick alone.

“You should go back down there.” you tell him.

“I’m not.” Finnick says, and you let out a sigh, “(Y/n), you can’t be down there. As nice as it probably is to be with them--did you even notice the way they were looking at you.”

“Finnick, I’ll be last week’s news by the time the new victor is announced. I’m not going to be the center of attention for much longer.” 

“Except to some extent, you’ve been in their sights for a while now.” he shakes his head, “I used to hear things about you while we weren’t talking. And I thought it was all lies and rumors until I got to see it for myself.” his voice is surprisingly calm, eyes on you, “They’re mistaking your friendliness for flirtation. You’re laying it on too thick, and it’s confusing them.”

You open your mouth, and then close it.

“I would rather you take the night shift, so I can take the daytime. But I know that you won’t let that happen so we’re going to have to compromise.”

Still being hung up on the flirting thing, you nod slowly, “What are you thinking?”

“You go from afternoon into most of the night, I take late night into early morning.” he raises his eyebrows, “Sometimes evenings if I think I can handle it.”

It makes the most sense, “Okay, yeah.”

“Yeah?” he lets out a breath, “That was easy.”

And once he thinks that, he’s suddenly squinting at you, “You’re not going to backstab me, are you?”

You squint back at him, “Unlike you, I’m a respectable human being.”

He laughs, “Respectable! You nearly killed me in the elevator.”

“And you would’ve deserved it, don’t even fucking lie.” you roll your eyes.

“Maybe a little bit.” Finnick admits.

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@f1nal-g1rl / @starlight-selene / @neenieweenie / @amixedwitch / @accxio

[12yeahiminluvwu]

Bad Enough For You

pairing - pop-punk!jj x pop punk!reader

summary- JJ wants you all to himself, and he’ll do anything he has to to make that happen, even if it means reverting to his old ways. 

word count- 2,265

warning(s)- swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, 

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

From the wings, JJ watched as the girl he had shamelessly obsessed over for months sang her lungs out and jumped around the stage like she owned the place. He could tell that this was her element. The stage was where she belonged. From where he stood, he could see her chest moving up and down as she fought hard to breathe but you wouldn’t know by the way she hit every note like it was second nature to her. He watched the way she got down on her knees, reaching out for the crowd and singing right to them. She was fucking good at this. It was no question why they were the most popular band in the little college town. 

Y/n was somewhat of a mystery to JJ, even after all this time. He couldn’t figure her out, no matter how hard he tried. He watched countless guys come and go, none of them fitting her standards- of which he had no clue what they were. 

He was always nice to her- which was his first mistake. Y/n wasn’t into the nice guy type. Unbeknownst to JJ, she liked her boy, and girls, as bad as they come. Her last boyfriend was a drug dealer from the southside of town who looked like he definitely had killed someone before. She never bothered to ask though, it was just better that way. His second mistake was trying to get her attention. She didn’t give it to anyone she knew wanted it, except for fans on stage. So there JJ was, shit out of luck. It wasn’t until one night after a hopeless encounter that he decided he’d start trying to be someone she would pay attention to. That had been a few weeks ago now. JJ knew how to be an asshole. He’d done it most of his teenage years back home on the island. 

As the band was coming off stage, Y/n waited for the typical “Hey good job out there!” from JJ, but all she got was a cold shoulder. He didn’t even acknowledge her, even if all he wanted to do was spin her around and tell her how amazing she’d been. He had to be the bad guy now, because that’s the only way he’d get to her. She brushed it off quickly and made her way back to the green room, whereas JJ and his boys made their way onto the stage. 

--------

“Anyone know The Band CAMINO?” JJ asked and the crowd erupted in loud chants and screams. The tune to See Through filled the bar and the crowd got even louder. She didn’t know it, but Y/n was the inspiration for the band singing this song tonight. 

Now it was Y/n’s turn to watch from the wings. She kept her gaze on the blond bassist, silently wishing he would stop trying so hard to get at her. 

The air in the bar was damp and smelled like sweat and cheap beer. It was packed wall to wall, for sure violating some type of fire code, but who really cared anyway. The only sound you could hear from here all the way down the block was the live music being played. Lights shined on the boys, illuminating every inch of their skin, making them look like absolute gods. JJ, as usual, had ended up taking his shirt off a few songs into the set, making everyone in the crowd go crazy. Y/n had to admit, the boy knows how to work an audience. He knows exactly what to do to drive them crazy, and if he wasn’t such a kiss ass off stage, she might give him a chance. She just wasn’t into the kind of guys who would drop everything and come running. She liked the chase. She liked feeling like she had to earn the attention of someone, she didn’t like when it came easy. 

“Rebound feeling like a rerun, everything that we've done, funny how it all played out.

You're good at looking at me like I'm see-through but I gotta see you, I shoulda learned by now.” The vein in JJ’s neck was straining as he poured his heart into the song. In that moment, with the crowd roaring and the sweat dripping down his face, he felt like he was flying. He felt invincible, and for a moment- he forgot about Y/n. But only for a moment, because as soon as the next verse fell out of his mouth, her image came flooding back into his mind like a tidal wave. 

“How do I get your attention? How does it feel to always have mine? How do I address this tension? How you're looking through me every time? Got me out here, got me thinking what I would do, got me in my head, got me wishing I was with you. God, I'm wishing I was with you.” Quickly, JJ glanced over to where you stood and before you could notice, his eyes shifted back to the crowd in front of him. 

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

Post gig was always JJ’s favorite time because he got to hang out with his boys and revel in the high that was performing live. The air was still thick from the events tonight but the boys didn’t care. The afterparty had moved from the bar to the band’s shared apartment and Y/n’s band was here too. JJ did his best to keep his gaze off of her, but her smile lit up the whole room, and he couldn’t ignore the way he felt when she was around. But he knew that if he showed any of that at all, it would send her running for the hills. 

There she was, standing with a drink in her hand, laughing with the lead singer of his band and driving him crazy. He tried to focus on the music playing and the conversation he was having about how good Ashton Irwin’s solo music was, and how his album is going to be a huge hit, but he found himself drifting back to her every time. Excusing himself, he walked into the kitchen to make himself a stronger drink. He stopped cold when he saw who was standing at the counter, back facing him. Shaking his head, and ignoring the hitch in his throat, he brushed past her, reaching around the counter to find what he was looking for. 

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately Maybank… any particular reason?” The girl asked from beside him. He looked over at you quickly, simply shrugging his shoulders. That was all he gave you, hoping it would be enough to keep your attention a little longer without looking too interested. You gave him a once over before continuing on with your night. 

JJ had left you wanting more, believe it or not. You suddenly wanted to know why he detached himself from you. Was he losing interest in you? Or using reverse psychology to get your attention. Either way, it made your mind race. The more he drew away, the closer you wanted to get. This was the chase you wanted. 

By the end of the night, you were drunk off your ass and had somewhat attached yourself to JJ. He paid you no mind other than keeping you from falling over every once and awhile. 

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked as people started to clear out and head home. He hadn’t ended up drinking as much as he thought he would, and was completely sober. 

“Probably…” You giggled and laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle, attempting to pull him closer to you. On the inside, he was freaking out. His heart was permanently beating at a million miles an hour, his palms sweating and breath caught in his throat, but to anyone looking your way, he looked cool as a cucumber. No one would be able to tell that he was freaked out by the girl of his dreams hanging off him like they were in love. 

JJ looked around and saw that your whole band had left and that you two were the only ones left in the living room. 

“We should get you back home…” He trailed off, walking the two of you over to the couch and sitting you down so he could grab your things before helping you back up and out to his car. He reached across to belt you in and gently shut the door. Starting the car, the quiet hum of Bad Enough For You by All Time Low filled in the silence between the two of you. 

“You know…” Y/n started to say and JJ glanced over at her before returning his gaze to the road. After looking at her ID for her address, he made his way through the streets. 

“I actually think you’re really attractive, but you made it wayyy too obvious that you had a thing for me so I pushed you away… because it scares me when people show an interest in me… be-because usually people just leave in the end anyway…” 

JJ was quiet for a moment. Had you just admitted that you liked him? 

“Why, don’t we talk about this tomorrow when you’re sober?” He asked, parking his car in front of her apartment. Coming around the side of the car, he helped her up out of the seat and walked her to the door, grabbing her keys from her to open the door. 

“Will you stay?” She slurred and he hesitated. 

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea Y/n…” 

“Please? We don’t have to do anything, I just don’t want to be alone when I wake up…” The look on her face was enough to make him do anything she asked him to. His heart melted and he nodded, walking behind her, hands intertwined, to her bedroom. She shimmied out of her skinny jeans and took her bra off under the baggy band tee-shirt that had been tucked into the pants, plopping down on the queen mattress. JJ kicked off his docs and shimmied out of the jeans he’d been wearing before climbing into bed next to her. She tucked herself right into his chest like it was her own little spot and was out in seconds. JJ, on the other hand, took a little longer to fall asleep. He started down at you, your cheek pressed up against his chest, hair all over the place. He’d never seen you look this peaceful, not even on stage. Slowly, he brought his hand up to brush the stray hairs out of your face.  He just couldn’t get his mind to shut off. But eventually, his eyelids fell heavily closed and sleep took over him. 

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

When morning came, you had trouble remembering where you were, and who you were with… Looking up at the person you were laying a slight rush of releifewashed over you, but then you started to worry about what happened last night and lifted the blanket in hopes that your clothes, and his, were still intact. Thank fuck, they were. 

You felt JJ take a deep breath and closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep still, doing your best to ignore the pounding headache that resided at the base of your neck. You could tell JJ had a mini freakout, similar to yours, when he opened his eyes. But then his memories of last night came back. Yours came back in pieces, while his came back in a rushing wave. You remembered suddenly wanting all of his attention and doing your best to get it, until your bandmate kept handing you vodka sodas and before you knew it you were hanging all over him the rest of the night. If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, you somehow got him to stay the night with you. And now here you were, tangled in your bedsheets. 

Slowly, you looked up at him, trying to gage the situation. He looked down at you, the smallest hint of a smile ghosting across his lips. You found yourself staring at them. The feeling of his fingers trailing up your arm sent shivers down your spine, and heat rushed to your cheeks. 

“Uh, hi…” You trailed off, absentmindedly tracing shapes along his abs, sometime last night his shirt had come off, leaving him in his boxers. 

“Hey.” He smiled. His voice was deep and scratchy due to the lack of use overnight, his nerves didn’t help any. 

“Coffee?” You asked after a pause and he chuckled lightly, nodding his head. You nodded back at him before pushing yourself out of bed and making your way to the kitchen. JJ wasn’t too far behind you, taking a seat on the other side of the island. 

“So… last night was interesting…” He began, trying to get the conversation flowing. 

“Yeah, uh. I was pretty fucking drunk so. I don’t really remember anything I said…” You admitted from where you stood at your keurig. 

“Well, to sum it up, you told me to stop being such a try hard and you think I’m hot.”

“That sounds like something I would say, yeah.” The two laughed and another moment of silence fell on them. 

“Well, I would be down to go out if you are…?” She said and JJ did his best to contain his excitement. 

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” He said and she smiled, realizing she’d been right about him just faking the hard ass act to get her to like him.

[artificialqueens]

A New Kind Of Freedom (Branjie) - Enescudoh

A/N - first ever fic so all crits and comments gratefully received! Thank you to Mia Ugly for a wonderful email telling a complete novice how to do this part. I’ve left this open ended - haven’t decided if I’ll come back to it or not yet.

Fic summary: A little ways down the road, some things have changed, others have stayed exactly as they are. Brooke and Vanjie can only avoid each other for so long before tequila combined with what should have been a great idea from a French drag queen make them question how much they’ve really left things behind them.

Non-AU, but canon-divergent in that Brooke never moved out of Nashville to LA.

‘Another round of tequila for my best bitches!’

The dancers that have taken over this West Hollywood bar cheer as Brooke seems only to want to get them drunker, perhaps to disguise how drunk she’s getting.

‘Think you want to take it easy for the night? Maybe have some water?’ Nicky asks, as she tries to clamber onto a table. Six foot three before her heels were on – that’s going to be a long way down if she falls. Nicky goes up to steady her and instead Brooke raises her hand like she’s a boxing champion.

‘Everyone give it up for Nicky! She’s the fucking best. Nicky, you’re the fucking best, you know that?’ Brooke takes her French co-star’s face in her hands and pecks her on the lips. She laughs it off, enjoying the moment, before helping them both off the table.

‘Nicky’, Brooke says, when their feet are back firmly on the floor, ‘we have just done a motherfucking global tour.’ She slams her arms on the table with every word. ‘We have just finished a motherfucking week long run in fucking Los Angeles. When, tell me, is a better time to get so drunk you forget your own name, than right motherfucking now?’

‘And that’s the only reason?’

There’s something about the way Nicky asks her that makes Brooke temporarily lose a single layer of the alcohol shield she was using to protect her emotions.

‘I hoped he might have come to a show. Or just, like, said hi. While I was here. Cos, I mean, he knew I’d be here. But he didn’t, and the show’s done now, and as far as he knows that’s me out of town and… it sucks that he didn’t even want to say hi. It’s like, a tiny bit that. But mostly just the celebrating our motherfucking show part.’ Brooke sees Nicky look at her with pity and immediately starts up again acting the type of drunk she wants to be tonight, as if that will speed up it arriving in real life.

‘I’m fine! Honestly – I’m so happy right now. Come on – tonight’s for dancing, not for talking, let’s get back out there, mademoiselle!’

Truly, that’s all Brooke wants. To get so euphorically drunk she forgets her own name, and to kill these night time hours in Los Angeles before this place that was so thick with memories makes her do something stupid. To deny that part of her that wishes she’d seen him while she was here, until she can get back to real life, where she could get him out of her head by telling herself there was, at least, no good excuse to be prompted to think about him. Most of the time.

—

‘C’mon Nicky, let me stay for one more round, I’ll buy everyone another round!’

‘Brooke, you can barely stand up. I’m getting you an uber, you’re going home where there’s a bed. You know, a place for sleeping that’s not a leather couch in a bar?’ Nicky was hardly stone cold sober, which made it challenging to scroll back through their conversation, trying to find the address of Brooke’s AirBnB. She’d taken her stuff there this morning after they’d checked out of the hotel the tour was putting them up in, using the next week for meetings she could usefully do while in town. It had made so much sense in the daylight. Now Nicky curses that she doesn’t know where to actually book her Uber to.

She finally loses patience trying as Brooke appears to have passed out on her shoulder. Nicky takes her phone from her pocket and holds it to her face to open it. Luckily it’s used to recognising her in drag. She opens the app – and right there is a saved address of an apartment nearby. Nicky makes a mental note to rip Brooke a new one for how stupidly organised she is, before booking a car, just about managing to manhandle Brooke into it, and going back into the bar for another round of shots. Just because Brooke was out of it, doesn’t mean her night has to end.

—

The buzzer drags Jose out of bed, rubbing his eyes and his spiked up bed-hair. He checks his phone. 3:15am. Serves him right for thinking he might actually get some sleep one night this week. The buzzer carries on sounding as if someone was leaning on it.

‘Jeez, I’m coming already Mary’, he grumbles. ‘What is it?’ He asks into the intercom.

‘This is Ali, uber driver – ‘

‘Child, ain’t no one here ordering no uber at three o’clock in the god damn morning.’

‘There is woman in my car, this is her address to take her to, but I cannot wake her up, she asleep in my car.’

‘Silky I swear to god if this is your idea of a prank – ‘

‘Please take sleeping woman from my car, thank you sir.’

Jose is rapidly starting to think this is the strangest dream he’s ever had but he plays along, puts his door on the latch and goes downstairs to investigate.

And sure enough, passed out on the back seat of a Prius, snoring like the moose he knows, is Brooke Lynn Hytes.

Jose sighs. There isn’t enough good karma in the world to pay him back for not even entertaining the idea of getting a video of this. He hands Ali a tip and begins to gently coax his ex-boyfriend out of the car.

—

After Jose has helped a barely sentient Brock into his building’s elevator, out of drag and make-up, and onto his sofa, under a pile of blankets of varying thicknesses and softnesses (because he knows that when Brock’s drunk he’ll switch randomly between freezing cold and boiling hot in the middle of the night), sleep doesn’t exactly come back easily. For one thing Brock’s snoring can traverse walls. But he’s also trying to piece together what’s happened. He knew Brock was in LA. He’s been running different routes every day for the last fortnight just to avoid the posters. Did Brock want to come and see him, try and build up some Dutch courage and take it too far?

‘Get out of your head, child’, he whispers to himself. ‘He don’t think about you like that no more, you know that.’

He tosses and turns and before he knows it, it’s light outside.

—

Brock wakes early, turning and stretching. He needed more sleep but knows he only wakes up feeling this uncomfortable when he’s tried to cram his tall frame onto a sofa for the night. He curses – was he really so out of it he didn’t even make it to the bedroom of his own AirBnb last night? As he prises his eyes open, and casts the two blankets off his body to join the several already on the floor, he realises this isn’t the same place he came to bring his suitcases yesterday. Is it? It feels strangely familiar.

Before he can work out where he knows the apartment from, or why he’s there, the smell of strong coffee hits his sinuses, and the whirring of a Nespresso machine sounds up. He groans.

‘Mornin’, sleeping beauty’, calls a familiar voice from the kitchen. And suddenly how he knows this apartment falls into place.

Brock stands up and steadies himself on the sofa before walking through to where the voice came from.

‘Hey stranger.’

Jose turns around and smiles at him. Usually something that bright would shatter him into pieces on a hangover like this. But when it’s Jose’s smile, whatever he’s feeling, it only makes it better.

‘Coffee?’

‘Like you even have to ask.’ Brock sits – carefully – on a high stool and sinks his head into his hands, taking it out only when the steaming mug is put down in front of him. He examines it as he drinks.

‘You still have this tacky tourist mug from Chicago?’

Jose freezes at the counter. He won’t let Brock see the warmth that washes over him with memories of that trip.

‘Uh, yeah, I guess I do. I can get you another one if –‘

‘No, it’s nice. It’s nice that you have it.’

Brock meets Jose’s eyes as he says it, much as he’d rather look away.

‘Your tour finished last night then?’

‘Yeah, uh-huh.’ Brock desperately tries to think of something to say to stop what he knows is about to come out of his mouth. ‘I hoped you might come see me while I was here.’

‘I hoped you mighta asked me to.’

Brock swallows as he’s caught off guard by Jose’s honesty.

‘So I don’t remember running into you last night, where –‘

‘You wanna tell me how you ended up here?’

They start talking at the same time and trail off, when Brock’s phone starts vibrating.

‘This ought to give us some idea,’ he says as he answers it. ‘Hey Nicky.’

‘Ah! She lives!’ Jose busies himself in the kitchen, trying not to overhear anything. He doesn’t want to know, really. It doesn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything that Brock showed up here last night, just as he was beginning to… no, not beginning to anything. No beginnings. Everything ended a long time ago. He couldn’t afford to think otherwise.

Anyway, there’s nothing to overhear, as Nicky is regaling Brock with everything that happened after she’d gone home.

‘Honestly, it’s a miracle I managed to get you into that uber when I did –‘

‘Wait, you put me in an uber?’

‘Yes honey – a stroke of genius, I might add.’

‘How did you find… um, where to send it?’

‘It was your nearest saved address – thank me over brunch, bitch, you still good to meet in that café in an hour?’

Brock’s been pacing around the living room. He leans through to check Jose is out of earshot before replying, ‘I think today’s more of a duvet day hangover than a brunch hangover. Sorry my love, I’m gonna have to raincheck this one.’

‘Ugh, fine. I guess I’ll just go flirt with the cute waiters by myself. Bye, bitch.’

‘Well, that’s that mystery solved’, Brock says as he re-enters the kitchen. It seems almost too simple. Too… prosaic. Like it should have been fate, or destiny, or some grand force beyond his control that brought him to Jose’s door, and instead it was a French drag queen with a bad memory after a few drinks.

Jose laughs to himself, and to the floor, as Brock explains. ‘You ain’t changed this address out in three years? How many times you been to LA since then?’

‘Honestly, not that many. And I’m just going to meetings, back and forth, and I don’t stay in the same places…’

‘Alright, Miss Thing, we get it, you in demand.’ He starts to relax. He was worried that Brock showing up meant something, something too big for him to be able to protect himself from. He just has to get through the morning, maybe only another hour, and then Brock can waltz back out of his apartment just as quickly as he showed up in it. Not waltz. Crash, or tiptoe. Brock doesn’t really have any mode between those two extremes.

‘So, uh, I guess you remember where the shower is, and then, as long as you actually know which apartment it is you’re going to this time, we all good here…’

Jose can hardly bring himself to look at Brock as he potters around looking for a towel, but he knows Brock’s eyes are following him all around the room. Can’t he at least pretend it’s as difficult for him to see Jose as it is for Jose to see him?

‘I don’t know, since I’m here…’

‘Since you here what?’

‘I’m just saying, it’s been ages. I hardly talk to you any more. It’d be nice to reconnect with my friend. You got plans today?’

Jose feels his feet become rooted to the spot. It’s so tempting – to spend the day with Brock, patching up the hole he’s felt over the last couple of years without the Canadian in his life. Maybe he’s wrong – maybe it is better to have him as a friend, to have some of him, than to have to completely cut himself off from this force of nature, this beautiful, magnetic person. To think of himself as lucky that someone like that wants to spend time with him, wants to be his friend, rather than dwell on all the things Brock doesn’t want with him. He sighs.

‘Sure. I mean, nah, no plans. Sure, we can hang out.’

‘Yeah? That’s awesome!’ Brock is starting to feel human again – he can tell by the way his speaking voice is slowly crawling out of the bass register.

—

As Brock turns the shower off, he hears a voice on the other side of the wall. He allows himself a smile to think that even when Jose was trying to be quiet (as he could tell he was now), his voice still carried across rooms.

‘I’m real sorry, I know it’s shitty, it’s just this once, I promise – I just… I got an old friend show up in town. I’ll try see you some time this week, ‘kay? OK. OK… OK. Bye.’

Brock doesn’t realise he’s been holding his breath until he lets it out. He counts to five in his head before he unlocks the door, one towel around his waist, another tousling his blonde curls.

‘Hey – give me 15 minutes then I’ll be ready to head out. OK?’

Jose looks up at him. He tries so hard not to flinch as he does. It’s just muscle memory, he tells himself, brain pathways and stuff, that once they’re there, don’t go away. That’s the only reason looking at Brock’s body makes him feel like this, because he did in past, not because he does now. Anyway - he’s made a decision, the least he could do is see it through. ‘Sure.’

—

It’s remarkable how quickly they slip back into each others’ company. They hardly notice that they’re going to their old haunts, stop to get in their heads about if that means anything – they just know the places they enjoy, how they spent so many days happy and relaxed in this neighbourhood. How they don’t even think about how much hard work it is, trying to keep each other out, versus how natural they feel.

‘So how’s Nashville been treating you?’, Jose asks over an iced coffee.

‘It’s been good actually!’ Jose suppresses a snicker, but doesn’t do so well to keep himself from raising an eyebrow halfway up his forehead. Brock seeing Nashville as a means to an end that he wished he could leave had been a common theme of conversation between them.

‘I’m serious! I mean, my lease came up and I actually got really close to moving out here, but then… some stuff changed. I realised there was a side to Nashville I hadn’t got to see much of yet, so I figured I’d sign on for one more year.’

‘Sides like… what, everybody be discovering their local parks for the first time in quarantine, shit like that?’

Brock looks up from the table. ‘I met someone. It didn’t work out, we’re not still…’ He’s careful not to trip over his tongue as he gets that out. ‘But it was nice. Having a relationship while we both literally couldn’t go anywhere, you know, it helped to turn the everyday into a bit of an adventure. For a little while.’

‘So lemme get this straight. You actually willingly had a relationship with another person, in the same city as you, no breaks, no passes, no long distance shit, for…’

‘Uh, five months.’

‘For five months, without losing your god damn mind over it?’

Jose is chuckling, he’s taking it better than Brock had ever imagined he would, whenever he’d pictured Jose finding out about it. Part of the reason it had ended with Max after five months was precisely because he found himself wondering how Jose would react to everything he was doing, and somehow picturing doing all of the coupley things he’d previously never entertained with Jose tended to make him happier than actually doing them with Max. He wasn’t an expert in relationships, but he didn’t think that was how it was supposed to go.

“What about all that shit about “freedom”, about that being the most important thing to you in the world?”

Brock pauses. He’s been having enough trouble articulating it to himself.

“Say what you want about a pandemic. But it’s pretty good for making you… re-evaluate… what it actually is freedom means to you. When a lot of it gets taken away, I mean. Freedoms you never thought you’d have to live without. Suddenly, you can’t travel, you can’t perform to crowds, you can’t go to bars, you can’t hug your family… maybe, it starts to make you think that those are the freedoms that matter to you… and that in the scheme of things… freedom to flirt or to have sex, I mean, to involve other people in your freedom, and wish for it not to be personal… I don’t know, maybe that’s not the kind of freedom I found myself craving all that much on the other side of this. And maybe having one person who cares about you enough to look out for you, whose emotions move in sync with yours… maybe that’s a kind of freedom too.”

There’s a pause. Most people would misinterpret the face that Jose’s making as him trying to understand what Brock’s just said. But he knows better. He’s seen that face before. That’s the face of Jose’s heart breaking.

Brock wishes he could take back the words. He knew they’d sting, that’s why he hadn’t talked to Jose the minute he’d had that realisation. How could he have just shown up, years later, as if now he was finally ready for everything Jose wanted, as if nothing would have changed for Jose in the meantime? So when Jose finally opens his mouth to ask him that, says softly ‘how many months were you gonna sit on that before you said anything to me?’, Brock answers honestly.

‘I figured you’d given me too many chances already.’

[jaehyunhour]

la la love | ten

college!jaemin strangers to lovers social media au.

summary: in which you’re upset at jeno for still talking to his ex yeji, so you recruit jaemin to fake date you to make him jealous, but you accidentally fall in love with jaemin during the process.

pairing: jaemin x female reader (special guest appearances from nct’s jisung, chenle, renjun, jeno, and itzy’s ryujin and yeji).

2.2k words. (warning: slightly suggestive! just a heated make out session, but if you are uncomfortable reading 00 line smut just skip over it! i was born in 00, so i am comfortable reading/writing mature content of 00 liners but i know not everyone is!)

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tag list: @neocrackheadtendencies @dammit-jjk @infatuated-with-you @donghyuckster @hyucktingz @127-jaehyun @j9emin @sunsungie @lowkeyviv @vintagejaehyun​ @ryujinnz​ @air-wreckaaa​ @jisungpwaarkk​ @bby-jaem​

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y/n lay in her bed as she scrolled through phone trying to entertain herself. ryujin and jisung were away visiting their families for the weekend, renjun was busy studying for exams as they neared finals week, and she didn’t want to text jeno. she stared at jaemin’s contact in her phone, she could call him and ask him to come over, but she was torn about it. every time she reached out to spend time with him, renjun’s words rang through her head. she really didn’t want to hurt him. but before she could process what was happening, her finger had already pressed the facetime button.

“oh, shit,” she said as it rang, and right as she was about to hang up, it connected.

“what’s up, y/n?” jaemin said on the other line. his hair was messy and he was wearing a pair of round glasses.

“i didn’t know you wear glasses,” y/n responded.

“i don’t,” jaemin took the glasses off and set them on his bedside table. “they’re just to look nice. am i just going to see the top half of your face or will you show me your whole face?”

y/n sat up, fixed her hair a little bit before extending her arm to show her entire face to jaemin. “happy?”

“very. so what’s up? why’d you call?”

“oh! i was just bored! ryujin and jisung are gone for the weekend, renjun is busy studying, and i don’t exactly want to hang out with jeno… i don’t know if you’d want to hang out though, i know late night impromptu hangouts aren’t really in your fake boyfriend job description.”

“hmmm, i have some exams i have to study for but i think i can spare a couple hours.” jaemin got up quickly and went to his mirror. “i’m just gonna come dressed like this, though, okay?” he flipped the camera to reveal his cozy fit: grey sweatpants and a loose fit white v neck.

“wear a sweater! you can’t catch a cold.”

he pushed his closet open, revealing a bunch of shirts, sweaters, and jackets all neatly organized by color. “which one?”

“i like that red hoodie a lot.”

“you got it. alright, see you in 30.”

“make it 15.”

“i can make it 15 but you’ll starve.”

“okay, see you in 30.”

and as promised, 30 minutes later jaemin was knocking on y/n’s door, holding take out. when she opened the door, she smiled at him before quickly reaching for the food and setting it onto the coffee table in the living room. jaemin slipped his shoes off by the door, and slumped onto the couch.

“i don’t even get a proper greeting? i just cured your boredom and fed you.”

“you’re right, you’re right.” y/n stood in front of him and quickly pulled him up off the couch and gave him a hug. he returned the hug and squeezed her tight, and — did y/n’s heart just skip a beat? no way. “can i eat now?” she asked, getting nervous. he pulled away and nodded.

“are you going to eat?” she asked, returning to the food and beginning to feast.

“i ate just before you called.”

“ah, okay. thank you for bringing food! just take out however much it was out of my purse,” she points at her purse on the table next to the couch. he nods and reaches over, but instead picks up the control to the tv to turn it on.

and they sat in comfortable silence for 15 minutes, y/n on the ground eating and jaemin on the couch behind her looking for something to watch on hulu. he couldn’t find anything that he wanted to watch, so he abandoned it until she was done eating so he could get her full undivided attention. once she was done, she cleaned up the trash and sat on the couch next to him.

“is there anything in particular you feel like seeing?” jaemin asked, handing the control to her. she took it from him, and immediately went to the horror section on netflix. “really? a horror movie?”

“why, are you scared?” she raised her eyebrows at him.

“i should be asking you that!” jaemin responded, but deep down he was a little scared. “you always talk about how you can never get all the way through a horror movie because you get too scared.”

“that’s when i’m alone… but you’re here, we could watch one together and maybe i can get through it.”

“i don’t think holding you while you try to watch a horror movie was in my fake boyfriend job description,” jaemin said, with a laugh.

“it isn’t, but it is in your real friend job description.”

“we’re friends?”

“well, yeah. i thought that was obvious.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“fine, ONE horror movie, but i’m picking it,” jaemin said, taking the control from her hand and picking a movie. he settled on the curse of la llorona, it looked the least threatening and y/n seemed excited to watch it when he read the title. halfway through the movie, though, y/n rest her head on jaemin’s shoulder and knocked out. he had to admit, he was scared of the movie but the sound of her quiet snores was enough for him to brave the rest of the movie because he didn’t want to wake her.

but once the movie was over, he still didn’t budge. her snores had stopped, but jaemin knew — or at least, thought — she was still asleep, because he took his phone out and took a few pictures of her sleeping on him. he didn’t know that she was still awake, but was too comfortable to ruin the moment. she thought maybe if she stayed like that for just a little bit longer, he would pick her up and take her to bed like her parents used to do when she fell asleep in the car as a child. but he didn’t, he sat still. and he spoke.

“my, my, y/n what am i going to do with you? i know i wasn’t supposed to, but i think i’ve really fallen for you,” jaemin whispered. “isn’t that crazy? a month ago i couldn’t even remember the fact that we went to high school together, and now i’m sitting here on your couch and all i can think about is how badly i want to kiss you.” he paused for a second. “but that’s not in my fake boyfriend job description, right? this is just to get back at jeno. and i’m sure we’ll succeed. but, man, what i wouldn’t give to just be able to kiss you once, or even hold your hand behind closed doors. when we’re in public, it’s different. it’s all a show… i think i want to be yours for real. but i have to remind myself this is just to get back at jeno.”

her heart broke a little hearing jaemin’s whispered confession, and she didn’t know what to do. should she tell him she’s been awake and heard everything? or does she pretend to just wake up and ignore it? she decided with the latter, and pretended to just wake up. jaemin held in a breath as she lifted her head from his shoulder, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and put on her best fake groggy voice.

“how long have i been asleep?”

“i think about an hour, i’m not sure. you fell asleep about halfway through the movie.”

“was it scary?”

jaemin let out a laugh. “yeah, it was. we’ll have to rewatch it another day.”

he shifted his body to look over at her. “let’s get you to bed.” he stood up, took her into his arms, and carried her into her bed. once in her bed, she sat up with her back pressed against the headboard as jaemin walked into her bathroom.

“what are you doing? she questioned. jaemin didn’t respond, but he walked back out of the bathroom with toner, cotton pads, her moisturizer, and some lip balm. “jaemin, i’m too tired to do my whole routine right now.”

he sat on her bed, opened the toner and put some on the cotton pad. he slowly cleansed her face and moisturized it for her. after he set the moisturizer down on her bedside table, he brought the lip balm up to her lips and applied it. her heart was beating faster when jaemin’s hands were so close to her lips, and the tension proved to be too much for him too. he leaned in, and she felt his breath ghost her lips. before she could stop him, he closed the gap between the two and pressed his lips forcefully against hers. at first, she was too shocked to react and jaemin was about to pull away, but her hands found their way into his hair and kept him in place. she kissed back for just a moment, and as she was going to pull away, jaemin gently pushed her into her bed and climbed on top of her.

jaemin’s mind ran wild as he realized what he was doing, he couldn’t believe that he was in this position. her body tucked beneath his, as her hands went from being buried in his hair to feeling all over his body. jaemin pulled back for just a second to look at her, and she pulled him right back in and deepened their kiss, letting his tongue into her mouth as one of his hands squeezed her breasts. her hands trailed down his torso, slipped underneath his shirt and hoodie, and her fingernails lightly scratched at his abs.

“y/n—“ he groaned. she shushed him.

“touch me, jaemin.” she whispered.

 as much as jaemin wanted to, he knew things had already gone too far. whether she was acting out of feelings for him or just the heat of the moment was a mystery to him, but he knew he couldn’t keep going. he pulled back and sat up, the hand that was previously on her chest running through his hair. jaemin’s eyes were blown out, and y/n stared at him while she caught her breath. she didn’t know what to say.

“i’m sorry,” jaemin started. “i crossed the line, and i shouldn’t have. i’m sorry. this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“that’s okay,” she said quietly. her eyes met his and she could tell he really felt sorry. it tore her apart inside.

“i’m sorry,” he repeated, unable to find other words to say. “this wasn’t supposed to happen, this was just pretend for you to get jeno, i wasn’t supposed to kiss you or anything...” jaemin gets up, panicked and begins to head for the door. “i should go home.”

y/n watched him walk to the door and her chest hurt as she stared at him. right as his hand reached the doorknob, he hesitated hoping she would ask him to stay. 

“please stay,” she responded. “i don’t want to be alone tonight.”

jaemin turned around and nodded. she got into bed and lifted the sheets up, allowing him access, and he crawled into bed next to her but was careful not to pull her into his arms, despite how badly he wanted to. instead, he turned so his back was facing her. guilt filled both of their chests as they lay there next to each other. she scooted closer to him, loosely wrapping an arm around him and spooning him.

“goodnight, jaemin.”

“goodnight.”

jaemin didn't sleep, instead opting for laying in her bed and trying to rationalize everything that happened. the entire situation etched itself in his mind as a blur; he couldn't quite remember what happened but when he closed his eyes he could see the way she looked underneath him, and feel her lips pressed against his. he wanted to do it again, and again, and again, and for the rest of his life. he opened his eyes again, letting out a deep sigh. y/n stirred in her sleep, disturbed by the sigh he let out. "jaemin?" she said, still half asleep.

"i'm still here," he responded.

she didn't respond, and he waited a few minutes before saying anything. "y/n?" he whispered. she didn't respond, and jaemin let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. he memorized the feeling of her arm wrapped around his body, her forehead pressed against his back, and the sound of her breathing as she slept. at one point, he placed his hand atop hers and fit his fingers between hers to see what it felt like to hold her hand behind closed doors. he tried to sleep but couldn't, and lay awake in her bed for hours as she slipped deeper and deeper asleep.

he was careful not to wake her, gently peeling her arm off his body and placing it near her. he slipped out of bed and felt his stomach churn at the thought of leaving her alone, but he knew he couldn't stay any longer.

y/n woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing, text messages coming in rapidly. she didn't know what time she fell asleep, or what time jaemin left, but in the same spot where his body once lay was his red hoodie folded neatly.

[starlit-serenade]

Along the Red Thread | Chapter 5

🧣 Summary: It is said that a red thread connects people who are soulmates and destined to be lovers, regardless of place and circumstances. What makes this difficult is that you stopped believing in love a long time ago. OR. You go to Korea to visit your father after several years. There, a mysterious red thread that seemingly only you can see shows up when you least expect it, and you meet a childhood friend you’d never thought you would see again.

🧣 Chapter 5: 2,552 words

🧣 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Kim Youngjo (Ravn); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Son Dongju/Xion; a couple of OCs;

🧣 Rated: T / Warnings: Mentions of divorce (Y/N’s parents); Mentions of abuse (physical); Instances of abuse (non-physical); Mentions of child abuse; Swearing / Genre: Angst; Fluff; Soulmate!AU (Red Thread of Fate); ChildhoodBestFriends!AU; Happy Ending;

《 Boy Group Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Series Masterlist 》

It's been about a week and a half since Geonhak first joined you to take Sunho to school. Since then, Geonhak has been accompanying you both almost every school day, waking up early to meet you outside of the apartment and ride the bus with you and Sunho. Sunho loves it. He tells Geonhak about the games he plays, the books he's read, the stuff he's learning in class. 

Some days, after dropping off Sunho with you, Geonhak will head to his dorm or to his practice. But on those days where you didn't want to return to your father's apartment, Geonhak would take you wherever you wanted to go, for as long as you wanted to be out. Whether it was just for some drinks, or to hang out at his dorm with him and his members. Seoho has, indeed, told you many embarrassing stories about Geonhak. Which provoked Geonhak to chase him around. Sometimes, you even get to watch them practice at their studio.

You and Sunho sit next to each other at the dinner table. Your father sits across from you, and Sooyeon sits across from Sunho. All of your plates are mostly empty from a filling dinner made by Sooyeon.

"Today, we practiced multiplication," Sunho says to you. "Areum helped me with it. She's better at it than me."

"Really?" you ask, grinning. "You can ask me if you need help. I know a bit about multiplication."

Sunho taps his feet excitedly. "Does Mr. Kim know multiplication?"

You pretend to think about it. "Hm. He should. Do you want him to help you practice?" Sunho nods, and you grin. "If you ask me, it seems like you like Mr. Kim more than you like me," you say, tickling him. He giggles.

"No! You're the one who reads to me every night."

"Who's Mr. Kim?" your father asks, interrupting. You look at him, and he asks again. "Who's Mr. Kim?"

"Oh, uh . . ."

You hesitate. You don't know why you don't want to tell him. Maybe it's because you want to separate your life at home from your time with Geonhak. Maybe it's because after all of this time you've spent with Geonhak and his group members, they've become almost a second family, your home, a safe place. And when you're with them, your father and Sooyeon vanish. Just for a moment. And you want to keep that safe. You don't want your father asking Geonhak to join a family dinner, and make you face the reality that you only really have one family.

"No one," you say. "Just a friend."

Your father tilts his head curiously. He looks at Sooyeon. "Clean the dishes, won't you?" he asks her. Sooyeon nods, standing up, and takes all of the dishes from the table. You hear the sound of the running water of the sink, as your father leans forward over the table.

Besides. You're an adult, and haven't seen your father properly in years. It's not like you owe him an explanation for anything. 

"He's just a friend," you say.

"And how did you meet this friend here? You've only been here for a month and a half."

You shake your head. You don't have the energy to explain it. And you don't need to explain it to him.

"I need some space." You get up from the table and head for your room, and you can hear the sound of your father's chair being pushed backward as he stands up to follow you.

"Y/N, you're supposed to be able to tell me everything. I'm your father."

If you weren't so busy trying to get some distance between you and your father, you'd roll your eyes. Ideally, you'd be able to tell your father everything and everything. But you haven't spent real quality time with him since the start of high school. And he isn't exactly close to you fatherly-wise.

You push open your door and try to slam it shut behind you. But just before the door closes, the door swings back twice as hard, the handle hitting you right in the hip and the edge of the door itself slamming into your lower arm and knocking you back, and you wince in pain, holding onto your arm.

"Fuck," you mumble.

That's gonna bruise.

You step back and place your hand on the bed to maintain balance. You glare at your father. He's staring at you in a way that makes you feel so small. You don't speak a word, as his eyes fall onto your arm. His expression changes.

"Ah, shit. Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"Just go," you say. You move to sit on your bed before lying down, not looking at him. "I'm tired. Please just go."

There's silence. Then, you hear the door close, and you relax, shutting your eyes tight. You just want to fall asleep. Maybe in the morning, you'll wake up and realize that it was you who was being unreasonable, or you overreacting.

Today, you and Geonhak are sitting at a table at the back of the library, after having taken Sunho to school. You two are pouring over a comic book together, snickering at the funny parts between sips of the cold drinks before you.

You two have been sitting there for the past three hours already. Time really flies when you spend time with him. He makes you so happy. Even when you two are walking in silence, not talking, you feel satisfied.

You know that you don't see him as just a friend now. He makes you so happy. Whenever you see him at the beginning of the day, when he shows up to take Sunho to school with you, you feel the butterflies burst in your stomach. You've never felt as safe with anyone as you do with Geonhak.

As your book comes to an end, you place it aside and check your phone. It's about 11:30AM.

"We should get ready to go," you say. "I have some readings to finish before I go back home."

"Maybe you could come over to the dorm?" Geonhak suggests. "I could make you some lunch. And you could do your studies at my dorm. If you want."

You grin. "Sure. I'd like that."

Geonhak sits next to you as you work on your computer on the couch. Two windows are open on your screen, one with your reading and one to take notes on. Your sandwich lays half eaten on a plate on the table in front of you.

"Sunho was talking, yesterday, about wanting you to help him with subtraction," you say to Geonhak.

"Oh, really? I'd love to."

"I know." You glance at Geonhak. While you've been looking at your computer screen, you've been somewhat aware of Geonhak's eyes on you the entire time. You don't know why he's been watching you this whole time,and you don't want to ask.

You reach over your computer for your sandwich, and your arm bumps the top of the screen, right where the door had hit you last night after your father threw it open. It did end up bruising, as did the spot on your hip. But the one on your hip wasn't as bad.

You wince and lift your arm a bit, and instead reach around your computer instead of over. You don't want to worry Geonhak, and pray that he didn't see or notice. But you weren't so lucky.

"Huh?" Geonhak looks at you. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I just . . . I hurt my arm yesterday is all."

Geonhak carefully takes your hand in his, watching you to make sure you're okay with it. When you don't stop him, he slides your sleeve up your arm and inspects the purple bruise carefully.

"You did this to yourself?" he asks, looking up at you with concern, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the bruise. You can't lie to him. You don't want to. And, to be honest, you don't think your brain or mouth will let you.

"Well . . . no, not exactly," you say, shaking your head.

"Who did this?"

You hesitate.

You don't want Geonhak to think you're friends with him just because you still need help coping with your family problems. And you definitely don't want to be a burden.

Your mouth doesn't let you lie.

"My dad hit me with the door yesterday," you admit.

Geonhak looks furious. "He did what? Y/N, I thought--"

"I don't think he meant to do it," you blurt out. "I mean--I don't think he meant to hurt me. He was just mad."

"That's the case every time," Geonhak says, staring into your eyes. "It's always that 'he was just mad.' But that's not an excuse for him to hurt you."

You stare back at Geonhak, and nod. You know he's right. That your father is hurting you, and at this point, it doesn't matter if he means to or not.

"You're right."

After a second, he takes your hands in his reassuringly, and looks you right in the eyes. "Hey. Y/Nie. Do you want to stay here tonight? I don't want you going back there, if you aren't going to be safe."

You look up at him. You almost want to say yes. But you also don't want to. On one hand, you want to spend more time with him. He makes you happy. You trust Geonhak more than anyone else.

But on the other hand, you don't trust him completely. Or anyone. You've given up on that. When the person you were supposed to trust most, your own parent, broke your trust, how can you trust anyone else like that?

You smile, pulling your hands away from him, and you shake your head.

"It's alright," you say. "Thank you for the offer, Hak, really. But like I said earlier, I'd like to give him one more chance. And I don't want to be a bother to you or your members, so if something happens, I'll just get a hotel room someplace," you say.

He tilts his head curiously and frowns. "You won't be a bother, Y/N. The members love you, trust me. Seoho definitely loves telling you about my embarrassing moments," he says grinning. 

You smile,  but shake your head. "Thank you, Geonhak. But really, I think I'll stay at a hotel if something happens."

Geonhak sighs, then nods,  pulling his hand away from yours, and you feel yourself deflate a bit. "I'm always here if you need me, okay Y/Nie?"

"Of course."

You two continue to hang out a bit longer, until it's time for you to pick up Sunho from his school and for Geonhak to head to his work. You wish him a good day of practice, and leave to walk to Sunho's school on your own.

You have no idea where your mind is as you walk. It seems to be wandering everywhere, so much that you're barely aware of where you're going. You're on autopilot as you walk to Sunho's school. It's a wonder you don't accidentally walk into a lamp post

You know that you like Geonhak. You know that you have romantic feelings for him, however small. But right now, the last thing you want to do is act on them.

Growing up as a small kid, you had looked up to your parents. At first, you'd thought they were the best couple ever--seeing that parents are supposed to be their kids' role model.

But naturally, as your parents' marriage fell apart, so did your idea of love. How could you trust anyone with your heart when one of the people you were supposed to trust the most--your own father--already had broken your trust? You don't know if you're able to trust anyone like that. At least, for now. For you, you're happier just being friends with someone who you want to be more with.

But you also don't want to spend so much time close to Geonhak that you fall deeper in your feelings. Spending another night with him will make you want to spend another, and another. And you're too worried that that'll lead to you two being more than friends. Which you're not ready for.

You look up and realize you're at your destination. The gates leading to the school are there before you, standing a little taller than you are.

You stand, waiting outside of the gates in front of Sunho's school, like a parent waiting for their kid. You're a couple minutes early, so you're waiting, listening to your music while staring in the direction of the school while you think about how you like Geonhak but don't want to like Geonhak.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a small ring! from your phone. You look down, frowning, and you see that you just received a text from Geonhak. You click the message to see what he said.

Geonhak 🐥: The members were asking about you. They say hi and they hope you're doing well!

Above the text is a selfie Geonhak took. You can see Youngjo, Seoho and Dongju beside him, as well as Keonhee and Hwanwoong reflected in the mirror behind him. They're all smiling brightly, waving, making peace signs or hearts and silly faces. You can't help but smile. He and his members are all so sweet, and you can't help but smile dumbly as you type a text back.

You: Aww! Tell them thank you for me! 💕

You: And thank you for spending time with me today.

Just after you send the second text, you can hear the bell ring in the distance, signaling the end of Sunho's school day. A couple minutes pass as some students start exiting. They run to their waiting older parents or siblings. As you continue looking over the kids, you spot him.

Sunho is talking to two friends next to him. One little girl, who you recognize as his best friend Areum, and another kid who you don't know the name of. Sunho sees you, waves goodbye to his friend, and runs over to you.

"Hi Y/Nie!" he says, running over to grab your hand. "I can't wait to tell you about what I learned today! And Mr. Kim!"

You smile as you lead him to the bus stop. "I can't wait to hear it. And I'm sure Mr. Kim will be happy to hear it tomorrow before school, too!"

"Yeah!" He grins widely. "Can I show you at home?"

You grin. "Of course. Sunho," you say. You look up at the sky. The sun is bearing down on you. It's hot as hell today. You look down at Sunho. "How about we go and get you some ice cream. Does that sound good?"

"Yes please!"

You smile, leading the way toward the ice cream place you've gone once with Geonhak and Sunho.

You don't know what it is, but you find so much joy in pampering and treating Sunho. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you didn't get enough affection from your father, and you've seen that your father doesn't give Sunho any attention either. You want to give Sunho everything you lacked as a child.

You smile softly down at Sunho. 

[otterknowbynow]

T’as de la place sur le canapé

Sometimes the others need a nap; Hunk is more than happy to provide comfort for his paladin family.

Written as part of Gentron Week 2020 for the prompt Cuddle Pile | Literal Sleeping Together. Also on ao3

Keith falls asleep on him first. Hunk wouldn’t normally expect it, but the guy’s been up for three days straight at this point, probably, between all they’ve been doing for alliance-building since Shiro’s been back and zipping off on Blades missions left and right. He’s focused on going over the notes from his last few sourdough biscuit attempts -- it seems like the space yeast, or whatever it is, is more sensitive to temperature than the Earth variety -- when Keith slumps over sideways against his shoulder. He tenses for a brief moment, worried something is very wrong, and looks over carefully without moving anything apart from his eyes. Keith’s mouth is slack, but his eyes are still open and as they focus on Hunk’s face, they widen, and Keith sits back up again quickly. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, looking away. His shoulders tense quickly and resettle as he leans against the back of the couch, as if he’s felt a chill. “Didn’t mean to…” he trails off, one hand waving vaguely in front of himself. 

“Oh, it’s fine,” Hunk says with a shrug. And it is, of course, now that he knows nothing’s wrong. “We’re all family here.” Keith looks back over at him and blinks. 

“...we are?” He doesn’t sound upset, just bewildered.

“Aren’t we?” Hunk asks, and thinks he’s probably just as confused as Keith is. He’s pretty sure there isn’t a better word for the five of them -- seven really -- than family at this point, considering. 

“I…” Keith trails off and picks up his tablet again, and Hunk shrugs as he goes back to his notes. He’s just worked out what he thinks would be an ideal ending point of temperature for the yalmor fat in the biscuits and has started to factor in the ambient temperature of the kitchen to know where it needs to start when Keith speaks again, so quietly he’s not sure he’s supposed to hear. “I guess we are.” Hunk nods without adding anything to that, still mostly focused on the numbers in front of him. Keith shrugs and leans to the side again, tentatively resting his head against Hunk’s shoulder. 

“This okay?” That question he knows is meant for him to hear, and Hunk nods again without really looking up.

“‘Course,” he says. 

As he finishes writing out the new procedure for his biscuits, Hunk slowly becomes aware that Keith’s body is vibrating softly against him. He frowns, almost opening his mouth to speak, and then closes it as he looks down and realizes the vibrating is accompanied by a quiet rumbling sound, and Keith is out like a light.

“He’s purring,” says a voice, and Hunk looks up to see Pidge leaning against the doorway to the lounge, carrying her tablet in one hand and a shoebox-sized container under her other arm. 

“He can do that?” Hunk asks. “That’s…” 

“Something he’s done for a long time,” Pidge says with a shrug. “He makes a lot of noises, if you listen for them -- extraverbal communication and all that. I noticed the trend a while ago -- that his tends to be cat-adjacent.” Hunk thinks back over the past several months and nods slowly. 

“Yeah, I guess he does. I never really thought about them being cat noises...thought they were just, I don’t know --” it’s Hunk’s turn to wave his hand vaguely in front of himself, carefully avoiding moving the side Keith’s leaning on “-- him noises.” Pidge shrugs again and crosses to sit on the couch on his other side, the shoebox thing between them. “What is that, anyway?” 

“Couple of broken communicators. I’m pretty sure they’re just old Altean walkie-talkies,” she says, lifting the lid so he can see two sleek white things that look like exactly that. “The thing that’s cool is they don’t use the same long-range frequencies as our suit communicators or the intercom. As far as I can tell, they’re just run-of-the-mill handheld two-way radios -- maximum communication distance should be something like five miles, but it seems like they might come in handy if I can figure out how to reload their power source..” 

“Nice,” Hunk says, looking them over and taking in the dual antennae and impossibly delicate-looking speakers. "Do they not just run on quintessence…?"

"Oh, they do," she says, nodding rapidly, Hunk assumes to offset how low they're still keeping their voices. "It’s just not in a form I’ve seen before, and I’m not sure how to recharge them, or really how they discharge." She flips one of the units over as she's speaking to show him a little catch on the back, which she slides open to reveal what looks like a small bag full of translucent blue gel -- it reminds Hunk more than anything of those little packs of dishwasher soap, but nearly drained. 

"Oh, wild," he breathes, careful not to let his shoulders move and jostle Keith. "Is that like...quintessence goop?" 

"Looks like it! How they got it in this form is still a mystery, though, and I think I'm well past having the level of focus I'd need to figure it out -- nearly fell asleep in the lab. I thought the change of scenery might help, or you might have some ideas, but..." She glances over at Keith -- head still resting on Hunk's shoulder, arms folded in front of his chest, and soundly asleep -- almost longingly. Hunk grins. 

"Tell you what -- why don't you get some rest and let me think on it?" 

"You sure?" She asks, stifling a yawn. 

"Yeah, I’m sure. You deserve a break, kid.” She grumbles a bit at that, but when he moves the box to the floor and picks up his tablet again, she doesn’t object. Instead, she faces the door and curls up against the back of the couch, resting her head on top of it. It doesn’t look like an entirely comfortable position, but Hunk shrugs and pulls up the data they’ve collected about the different matter forms of quintessence so far. 

Halfway through reading about its liquid form, however, he’s interrupted by a highly irritated-sounding Lance, who’s standing in front of him having apparently just come from the pool, if the combination of the smell of chlorine and his wet hair is any indication. 

“Oh, sure, no one bother telling me we’re taking a group nap, just don’t try --” he breaks off into a yawn, and Hunk takes the opportunity to shush him as emphatically as he can considering the sleeping forms on either side of him, but Lance continues just as indignantly as soon as he can draw a normal breath. “Don’t try to include Lance; he doesn’t need to know about local comfy gathering, more at 11!” His hands are on his hips, glare so sharp it could probably cut glass.

“Shush,” Hunk stage whispers, holding up his one free arm and trying not to laugh and disturb the others by shaking. “This wasn’t exactly a plan.” Lance narrows his eyes even further, looking down at the shoebox-y container on the floor. 

“Then why did you guys move things off the couch, hmm?” he asks, and Hunk is just glad he’s brought his voice down a bit. “Checkmate!” Apparently it’s not quiet enough, though, since Pidge stirs, mumbling something about a crick in her neck. And resettles facing toward Hunk instead, all without opening her eyes or taking her glasses off. 

“Lance, buddy, you are welcome to join us,”  he says, raising his eyebrows pointedly. Lance’s mouth is already half-open to continue his tirade, but he stops and closes it, blinking. 

“Yeah, that’s...probably better,” he says slowly. “I’m pretty beat.” He plops down onto the couch between Hunk and Pidge, where there’s barely enough space even for him. Pidge grumbles half into Lance’s shoulder and shoves him slightly toward Hunk, who lifts his arm to wrap it around him so he can still get to his tablet. Lance settles against Hunk’s side and yawns once, eyes already closed. 

“Wake me if there’s breakfast.” 

“I can do that,” Hunk says, fumbling a bit as he gets his screen back in front of him. He didn’t notice exactly when Pidge decided that his bicep made a better pillow than the back of the couch, but she’s wrapped onto his arm now, her glasses balanced somewhat precariously where her head was resting before. “I can do that.”