#whatever wins I’ll open asks for and get my slots filled

[nightly-ruse]

I need some push to draw and since I’m officially on break have a poll on what I should focus on

[messers-moony]

So Perfect 2 | J.P

Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 

Preparing for a date seemed easy enough, except when it’s with a twenty-five-year-old man that already has a child. Granted, the twenty-five-year-old man was handsome, very handsome; maybe that’s what made this so hard. Every dress that she tried on didn’t seem to fit or didn’t seem to look right. 

Y/n was looking at her appearance in the mirror when a light knock was heard on her door, “Come in!”

Remus almost dropped the tea he was holding for her, “You look spiffing.”

“Spiffing?” Y/n crossed her arms with a stupid smile, “That’s all you could come up with?”

“Dashing, beautiful, gorgeous?” Remus shrugged, “I'm not good at this whole thing. ‘S why I’m into blokes, remember?”

Y/n hummed, reaching for the tea he was holding for her, “Thanks, Remmy.”

“No problem.” He replied, taking a seat on her twin bed, “So, are you excited?”

“Nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s already got a child, Rem!” Y/n said exasperated, “If this goes well, then he’ll expect me to be Harry’s stepmother, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

Remus placed two hands on his shorter sister's shoulders, “You’re going to be fine. No one is more prepared for that than you are.”

“I’m regretting this.”

“If you don’t go on this date, then I’ll never call Sirius.” 

“That’s not fair!”

“It is.” Remus replied, “How about this-”

“Oh no, you only do this when you know you’ll win.” She murmured. 

Remus smirked, “If you go on this date and have fun, I’ll ask Sirius out. If you don’t go on this date at all, I’ll block his number.”

“But you and Sirius are perfect for each other.” Y/n whined, “And so are you and James.” Remus countered. 

Y/n pouted, and Remus smiled, “Now go have fun on this date. James is waiting outside.”

“Are you shitting me?!” 

Remus laughed, “Nope!”

Y/n scrambled to grab her things, and Remus watched amusedly, “You’re the worst, Rem!” She yelled as she began to leave the bookstore. 

“Love you too, sis!”

The door closed behind her, and she was releasing breaths of air. James turned to see her out of breath and a flush on her cheeks. It made him smile. She looked absolutely breathtaking too. Y/n’s hair was styled, and her dress looked dashing on her. James offered her his hand, and Y/n took it with a gentle smile. 

“Sorry for making you wait.” Y/n apologized, “Rem was no help.”

James chuckled, “It’s fine.”

James opened the car door for her, and she got in. Instantly she felt out of place. Y/n hadn’t been in a car since high school and ever since then had taken public transportation or walked. She and Remus didn’t have money for a vehicle, so they made do with what they had. The seats were black leather, and the car didn’t have a spec of dirt on it. 

He got into the driver's side of the car smoothly and took notice of Y/n’s awestruck expression, “I take it you like my car?”

“I’m sorry.” Her expression turned sheepish, “It’s been a minute since I’ve been in a car.”

James quirked an eyebrow, “Remus and I walk or ride buses to get by.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be with you for your first experience back.” They both laughed. 

It was so easy with James. Conversation flowed like water, and the air was light like clouds. His hand went from the shift to intertwine his fingers with hers. Y/n’s face flushed, and James smiled genuinely. James couldn’t remember a time when a girl made his heart race and butterflies fill his stomach like this before. 

When they arrived, Y/n was starstruck. It was fancier than she thought. Her heart pounded, and insecurity filled her body. James made his way to her side of the car and opening the door for her again. He helped her out of the car and felt her hand tremble just the slightest bit. 

“You look beautiful.” James assured, “No need to be worried.”

Y/n swallowed thickly, “Hey,” James turned her face to his, “If I thought you were underdressed, I would’ve told you. You’re gorgeous, and I think you’ll be the prettiest girl in the room.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her another one of those beautiful smiles before walking up to the hostess, “Name?”

“Should be under Potter.”

The hostess smiled, “Right this way.”

James motioned for Y/n to go first, so she followed the hostess to the table. Y/n sat down, and James sat across from her as the woman set down two menus. Maybe it was a force of habit, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes travel to everything around her. 

He smiled, slightly amused by her way of checking everything around her. It wasn’t the fanciest place that he could’ve taken her - there was much better - but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. It wasn’t pitying that drew him toward her, though. There was something about her that made him feel like a teenager again. 

The place was made of what appeared to be a dark wooden material. The lights were a dim yellow, and the tables were polished beautifully. The booths were comfy and with red cushioning. The atmosphere was cooling and dry. 

Y/n had opened her menu and began to survey it, “Pick whatever you want.” 

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, “I really don’t mind-“

“This is a date.” James reminded as he held her hands from across the table, “Let me treat you so well that you a second date.”

Y/n blushed, “You’ve already done that.” 

“I have?”

“Shut up.”

James chuckled, kissing her knuckles, “Whatever you want, love.”

Half of the food on the menu Y/n hadn’t even heard of. Granted, she and Remus never really ate out much as kids. Usually, their mother - Hope - would cook them dinner as their father - Lyall - got home from work. Dinner was generally around seven-thirty or eight o’clock. 

The dinner went by gracefully, with lots of banter and getting to know each other. It wasn’t until the end of the date where James had paid despite Y/n’s efforts, and they got into the car where he had asked the dreadful question. They both sat in the parking spot when James had turned to her. 

“How do you feel about children?” James asked and quickly added, “I know that you’re good with them because of the reading on Saturdays but, I mean, about having children?”

Y/n wrung her hands, “I never really thought about it.”

“Why?”

“I have two jobs and a sick brother to take care of.”

Y/n replied, “Kids don’t really fit in. I’d also have to have a significant other to have children. Which I don’t have.”

James nodded, “Okay, but if you were to have a significant other.”

“I mean, I’d like to.” Y/n shrugged, “My life is just hectic right now. Bringing a child into this life wouldn’t be fair.”

Okay, so this isn’t going anywhere, James thought; I need to be blunt, “How would you feel about being Harry’s stepmother?”

She swallowed, “James….”

“I know that’s a hard thing to answer right now. Especially with us just getting started.” James added, “But if you aren’t interested, then this isn’t worth starting.”

“No, I know and understand.” Y/n said, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, “I’m sure it’s hard to find someone, you know, already having a kid and all.”

James nodded. 

“I’d love to be Harry’s stepmother.” Y/n replied as James’ face lit up, “But I still have the bookstore, the bar, and Remus to take care of as well. It’ll be stressful.” 

“I’m not asking you to be a stay-at-home mother.” James chuckled, “I’m just asking that at the end of the day, you come home to us.”

“And hopefully,” James smiled sheepishly, “Sirius can knock Remus off your list.”

Y/n chuckled, “Hopefully. Remus is a handful.”

“He seems nice.” 

She snorted, “Until you officially meet him.”

“Well then,” James smiled, taking her hand in his as he began moving the car, “Looks like we’ll be having double dates.”

Y/n squeezed his hand as he began to drive. The car drove effortlessly over the unpaved roads. Light music played in the background. The sky was a beautiful blue littered with sparkling white specks. The moon was crescent and barely a sliver. James had gotten to a stoplight when he spoke up again. 

“My house or yours?”

“Whichever.” 

James smiled and turned the wheel to the left, “Okay.”

It didn’t take long to realize that they were going to his house. His neighborhood was much different than hers. Granted, she lived on top of a bookshop, but it was still different. James lived in the suburbs. The houses were breathtaking, and the streets looked clean. Asphalt roads were freshly paved, and sidewalks looked new. The homes were family-sized, but they looked ginormous compared to her and Remus’ studio apartment only suited for one. 

James pulled into the driveway, and Y/n was flabbergasted. It was a two-story house, mostly white concrete, and the accents were a dark brown color. The grass was freshly cut, and the vegetation was trimmed. The backyard appeared to have a pool and a patio area, but Y/n could barely tell over the solid fence. 

His keys jingled as he placed the key into the slot and the door opened with ease. Gently, he motioned her to go first. The floors were dark oak wood, seemingly similar to the dark paint on the accents of the house. Everything was so clean, exactly like the car, not a spec of dust laid on the surfaces. 

A movie was playing on the television in the room on the right. The kitchen was on the left, and the sitting table was in the room beside it. James shut the door behind him, locking it. He took off his coat and shoes, placing them at the front door. He smiled. 

“I take it you like the house?”

“It’s beautiful.”

James smiled, walking to the kitchen, and Y/n took off her shoes before following him. He sighed when he opened the fridge, and Y/n had taken a seat at the barstool in front of the island. James picked up an empty bottle of wine that was still residing in the fridge. 

“You keep empty bottles of wine in the fridge?” Y/n questioned as James rubbed his face with his hands. 

“No. Bad habit of Sirius’.”

Y/n quirked an eyebrow, “He lives here?”

“He acts as he does.” James muttered as he recycled the empty bottle, “But no, Sirius lives a couple of doors down. But I feel like he should be paying rent here.”

Y/n laughed, “Regardless, I’ve known him since elementary school, so he’s like my brother. Harry calls him uncle and everything.”

“That’s adorable.” Y/n said, “Do you have any actual siblings?”

“Nope. Jus’ me.” He answered, motioning to himself, “Sirius has a younger brother named Regulus.”

“His parents obsessed with constellations or something?”

“Supposedly.”

“Where is Harry now?” 

“With Sirius.” James replied, taking out a full bottle of wine, “Told him I might get him tonight or might not.”

Y/n took the glass of wine he offered her with a smile, “Mind if I ask why the tv was left on?”

“My cat.”

“Cat?”

“Technically, not mine.” James explained, “It’s my ex-fiancées, but she left him here, so he’s mine now.”

“And your cat likes the tv?”

James nodded, “What's his name?”

“Moony.”

“Moony?”

“Yeah. Harry named him actually.”

Y/n smiled. They continued to talk, and the night kept going on by. It was well past midnight when James drove her back home to her shared apartment. The car ride was silent, primarily with music playing lightly in the background once again. He walked her to the door of the bookstore before bidding her goodnight. 

Gently James pressed his lips to her forehead, “Goodnight, get some sleep.”

“You too…” Y/n muttered, blushing as she walked into the bookstore. 

She hadn’t even made it up the steps when Remus began talking, “Had a good night, I presume?”

“You’re a dick, ya know?”

He smirked and closed his book with a thud, “Runs in the family.”

Y/n gasped playfully, “You ass!”

Remus chuckled as they both walked up the steps, “Seriously though, good night?”

“Yeah, really good night.”

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

[spxllcxstxr]

Game On • J.P

(Gif not mine)

Writing Challenge: @lunalovecroft ‘s 2.7k Trope Writing Challenge! Congrats again! Everyone go check out their fantastic blog! Trope: Quidditch Rivals and Secret Dating

Summary: No one knows that rival captains, Potter and (Y/Ln), have been in a secret relationship for quite some time. Then, the Championship Game arrives.

Warnings: cursing, a small hint of steaminess (nothing big—it’s like a quick mention and that’s it), slight Wolfstar and Dorlene mention, mention of breakfast at the Great Hall, kissing, use of Ms when referring to the reader (only once), nonGryffindor!reader

Word Count: 2k

A.N: Kinda long winded but I actually like the dialogue for once??? Wow. Congrats again on 2.7k! Everyone go follow them because I get so happy seeing them on my dash ❤️ Hope you all enjoy and love you all ❤️

****

Your eyes snap open hours before they have to, your dorm still pitch black, the soft snores of your friends filling up the otherwise quiet space. The covers feel heavy and restricting on top of you, something you quickly remedy by kicking them clear off the mattress.

You swing your legs over the edge, feet meeting the cool wooden floor.

Rubbing your eyes, you glance over at the ornate clock on your nightstand. One in the morning. You sigh, your goal of getting a good night’s sleep before your important match in ruins.

Your skin crawls at the thought of the Championship Match only hours from now. The amount of blood, sweat, and tears you’ve shed in preparation for it is frankly quite concerning.

Unable to get back to sleep, you drag yourself out of bed, shoving your feet into plush slippers before slipping quietly out of your room. You’re forced to tiptoe around scattered books, most of them Quidditch related from last night.

There’s no way you’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon, the anxiety of the morning’s match coursing through your veins. The nerves were the worst part of competitive Quidditch—after all these years you still couldn’t shake them.

Absentmindedly, you think about heading to the Kitchens, the warm and comfortable environment sounding like exactly what you need.

Late night visits to the Kitchens aren’t anything new, you and James often sneak out after curfew hidden underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Sitting in the far corner behind countless shelves and barrels was a frequent date for the two of you since it offered enough privacy from the rest of the castle.

The two of you could hold hands on the table, his thumb open to draw little figure eights between your knuckles. Your eyes could light up just looking at him without the fear of being called out. His lips could capture yours in a sweet or passionate kiss and no one would know.

The real and complete reason for keeping your relationship a secret was long since forgotten, but the general idea is still shared. It’s just easier being Quidditch rivals instead of being Quidditch rivals that snogged the second feet touched the ground. Neither of you were ever accused of going easy on the other during matches, and that’s how the two of you preferred it.

Plus, there was something romantic about sneaking around the castle and through secret passage ways pressed closely underneath his cloak. Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and quick shags in broom closets were fun when they weren’t inconvenient.

In the back of your mind you have an inkling that James might be huddled up in the usual spot as well, considering he has a match as well in a few hours.

You shuffle through the common room, a few third years spread out on the couch, sleeping atop their textbooks and notes. The fire crackles and pops lowly. A shiver runs down your spine as you step out into the corridor.

“Lumos!”

A murky blue light blooms from the tip of your wand, lighting up the dark corridor.

You shuffle across the stone, the occasional laugh or snore echoing throughout.

Filch isn’t an issue at this time of night, surprisingly the old care taker does get some sort of beauty sleep, though it does him no good, so you find yourself walking normally instead of carefully creeping around.

It doesn’t take long to get to the portrait of the bowl of fruit, faint giggles coming from the pear. You extend your arm to tickle the bottom of the pear, it’s giggles erupting even louder before morphing into an intricate brass doorknob.

Stepping through the threshold you’re immediately met with a blast of heat due to the large fireplace that practically takes up the wall to your right. Even though it’s the middle of the night, plates and goblets and utensils are clanking and crashing together, the pitter patter of house-elves darting around the area isn’t surprising at this point.

“Nox.”

The blue light fades and flickering orange takes over.

A small and pale grey figure rushes up to you, jittery like they’ve just consumed a gallon of coffee. One ear droops low enough where it’s almost dragging across the floor while the other is significantly shorter.

“Ms. (Y/Ln)!” The house-elf squeaks, wringing their lavender cloth between their fingers. “Mr. Potter is waiting for you!”

“Alright, Tilly.” You smile warmly at the elf. “Thank you.”

As you make your way to your usual spot in the back of the Kitchens, you hear Tilly bound back over to the counters, joining the many other house-elves that work down here.

Behind stacks of old crates and barrels, there’s an old and decrepit picnic table, obscured from the rest of the room. Each time you and James show up you’re surprised the house-elves haven’t chucked it into the large fire yet. It’s so rickety it’s practically only good for firewood.

And being the spot for the two of you to find refuge in.

James is sitting with his back against the wall, legs outstretched across the bench just like you suspected. He’s lazily tracing a finger around the lip of his steaming mug, hazel eyes lost in thought. From your spot you can see his teeth toying with his bottom lip.

“You ok Jamie?” You ask softly, trying not to startle him out of his thoughts.

His eyes flick up to yours before he fixes his glasses and runs a hand through his bedhead.

“Knew you’d join me eventually, love.” He sends over a wink, face lighting up.

“And you didn’t think to pick me up at my common room?” You playfully scoff, slotting yourself between his legs, face pressed into his chest.

The red fabric smells suspiciously like the Quidditch shed, like he got in some late night practice.

“Oh yes, because standing out in the cold corridors outside of your common room after curfew is much better than just waiting for you in the warm Kitchens.” James’ chin rests in the top of your head, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“Blimey, chivalry really is dead.”

“Y’know, you could’ve waited outside the Gryffindor Tower for me.” James points out, chuckling at your complaint.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp. “Who has the Invisibility Cloak, again?”

“You got here just fine, didn’t you, love?” He snorts, chest rumbling.

“Whatever.” You grumble, rolling your eyes in defeat.

James sighs, rubbing your side. “You ready for the morning?”

You hum noncommittally, the thought of tomorrow’s match swirling through your mind.

“Nervous, love?” His voice is soft and delicate against your temple.

“I mean, this is my last chance, Jamie.” You mumble into his chest. “And of course it’s against you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, (Y/n)?” James asks, concern laced within his voice.

“It’s just that you’re an amazing player and I’m—“

“A spectacular player as well.” He interjects. “I’ve seen you out there practicing. You’ve built a bloody good team this year. We’re on equal footing.”

“Yeah well, I’ve never beaten you before.” You huff lightly, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“So?” He questions. “That doesn’t mean anything. There’s a reason you’ve made it into the Championship match, (Y/n). Because you’re a fucking phenomenal Captain. And I’ll hex anyone that tells you otherwise.” You feel his fingers flex angrily against your waist.

“You’re so sweet.” You pick your head up slightly to face him, a pout tugging at your lips.

“Guess I should give you a good luck kiss now, considering we won’t have time in the morning.” James’ hazel eyes shine in the flickering light while looking into your own.

“Does luck even last that long?” You bring your fingers up to hover over his sharp jawline.

“Sadly, love, we’ll have to test that.” He sighs.

You bring your lips to meet his, your fatigue making it a bit sloppier than it should’ve been. He nips at your lips, pulling you closer to his chest momentarily before pulling away.

You whine slightly at the loss of warmth.

“Gotta save some of that luck for myself, love. Can’t just let you win.” He smirks, lips grazing your hairline.

The two of you end up sitting there for another hour or so, listening to the fire crackling and the house-elves rummage around. Eventually, he pulls you underneath his cloak and drops you back off at your common room, a quick peck pressed to your lips.

You manage to drift back off to sleep, dreaming of James rather than Quidditch.

When you pry your eyes open for the second time, the sun is actually filtering through your curtains and most of your dormmates are awake and shuffling around.

You tune them out the best you can, opting to go through your routine in whatever silence you can find.

Your routine is quite simple, you let your joints pop and muscles stretch, trying to shake yourself awake.

The rest of the castle seems to be alive with boisterous laughter and over the top festivities. Glancing around at the corridors and the Great Hall, you’re able to notice a pretty even split between red and gold and your own house colors.

This was going to be one hell of a rematch.

Marlene and Sirius have a crowd forming around them as they flex and throw out trash talk. You watch as Remus and Dorcas try to coax them down from the tabletop, but they seem unsuccessful.

Peter, Mary, and Lily are fawning over James, hyping him up, even you can tell from across the Hall.

But he isn’t paying attention to them, his eyes are clearly trained on you behind his round glasses.

“Already envisioning Potter’s demise?”

You tear your eyes away from him, instead focusing on your teammate.

“Oh absolutely.” You smirk, before throwing yourself into last minute charts and maneuvers.

Breakfast goes by quick, your leg never stops bouncing underneath the table and your fingers tap incessantly against your goblet.

You and your team strut down to the pitch earlier than anyone else. There’s a slight breeze rolling through the grounds, something you take into account.

It becomes a bit of a blur after you’ve changed into your uniform, the crowd begins to show up and their cheers take over your hearing.

Remus is announcing the game, which you have no idea why since it never goes well for anyone. His commentary ranges from picking on James to flirting with Sirius to just trying to get McGonagall pissed off.

Marching out to the center of the grassy pitch, broom in hand, you’re bombarded with your name being enthusiastically chanted across the entire stadium. Confidence bubbles inside of you as you face James, Madam Hooch just beside you.

“Alright everyone, I expect a nice, clean, and fair game today. This is the Championship, no one will get away with any funny business.” Her tone is clipped as her yellow eyes take in everyone. “Captains, shake hands.”

You and James take a step forward, his hand firmly grasping yours.

“Good luck, love.”

With your hands still connected, James plants his lips on your own, and you eagerly kiss back.

The crowd erupts into even louder cheers.

“Bloody hell!” You hear Remus exclaim over the loud speaker. “James and (Y/Ln) are now snogging on the pitch! You own me five bloody Galleons, Sirius Black! I told you, you—“

“Lupin!”

James takes a step back, his usual smirk painted across his face. His hazel eyes glint mischievously behind his goggles, which he takes the time to adjust like they were his own glasses.

The roar of the entire castle fills your ears after your little reveal.

It’s a little overwhelming, you have to admit, but it doesn’t deter you. You’ve spent too many hours training for this very moment to back down now.

You roll your neck, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, but pixies have already erupted in your stomach. You feel James’ stare burning into you.

“Mount your brooms.” Madam Hooch’s harsh tone cuts through the crowd, but you’re barely paying attention to her as you swing a leg over your broom handle.

The whistle pops into her mouth like usual, but in the split second before she blows with all the air in her lungs, you lock eyes with your boyfriend.

His red and gold robes billow behind him, confidence just rolling off of him. Dark and chaotic curls drift in the breeze.

He sends you a wink.

“Game on, love.”

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

For @lunalovecroft go check their blog out!

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 4

Masterlist

Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥

Word Count: 3.8k

Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee

You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.

Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."

Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."

A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.

“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”

“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”

You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.

**********

A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.

"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"

You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"

"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 

You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 

Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.

“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”

Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”

You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”

“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.

"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.

"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.

Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.

“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”

You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”

The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.

You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.

Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.

You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?

It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.

There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.

Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.

"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.

Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”

“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”

“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 

“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”

You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”

“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.

Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 

You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 

“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.

“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.

Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 

The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.

By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”

“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.

A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.

“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”

Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.

“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”

"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.

"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”

Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"

"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"

"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."

"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"

You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.

Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"

"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."

**********

Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 

Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.

"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."

Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.

You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 

This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.

"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.

"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."

No she isn't.

You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.

"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 

Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.

"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 

"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 

"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 

"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."

Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"

"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"

Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.

The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.

The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.

"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 

"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 

"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 

"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.

Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”

“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”

Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”

Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-” He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”

You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”

You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”

“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”

“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.

“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”

You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”

“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”

You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”

“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.

“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.

He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.

“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.

A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”

You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”

He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.

“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”

“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.

“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”

You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.

Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.

“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”

Tagging: @flashcal

[xoteajays]

playing on the edge | squid game | salesman (gong yoo) x oc

word count: 2605 warnings: this is a s.mut fic, don’t interact if you’re under 18.  tw: age difference (not explicitly mentioned), praise k.ink, s.trip tease (vaguely), s.exual content.

note: this is a chapter snatched out of my squid game fic, posted for those who only wanted the salesman s.mut part. 

ao3 link: playing on the edge.

When he first came around, it was a year after her game. She hadn’t expected to see him again. Albeit, she has sought him out a few days earlier, nearing the anniversary of when she had first been introduced to the game. If only to further remind herself it wasn’t a dream. A suit-wearing salesman-guy playing ddakji while waiting for the train, slapping his opponent. That wasn’t something even her mind could have come up with; nor was it necessarily hard to find. It drew a kind of crowd. That doesn’t mean she expects to open her door and find him standing there. Her brows crease, she leans against her doorway, arms crossing.

“Do you usually visit the winners?” she replies dully.

“Only the interesting ones,” he replies with a smile.

“Am I supposed to be flattered?”

He shrugs. He doesn’t make a move to leave though, so Na-Eun sighs and steps aside, opening her door wider to let him in. A smirk grows on his face. Na-Eun was beginning to grow familiar to that smirk and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. There’s a short huff of a laugh from him as he passes her, stepping further into her apartment.

“What?” Na-Eun asks, frown on her lips - though it appeared more like a pout, if you asked him.

“I forget how short you are. You wear heels all the time, but you really are just tiny, princess,” he teased. She didn’t know how to feel about that nickname either, but it had long since stuck, even if he knew her actual name. She didn’t know his though. She doubts he would give it to her if she asked.

Door closes behind them, and she passes by him to go sit back in her armchair and pour herself another drink.

“Quite the small place despite all your winnings,” he comments.

“I’m one person, I don’t need that much space.” She doesn’t offer him the information that much of her ‘winnings’ had gone - and was continuing to go - to her family. She had enough to keep herself afloat for a while, if she saved it right and didn’t spend it all willy-nilly on whatever she desired without thought. “Drink?” She offers instead.

He nods, sits on the couch across from her. She gets up to fetch a glass from the cupboard, sets it on the coffee table between them, and fills it with soju.

He’s got that case with him, like he usually did. She must have been staring at it, because he tilts his head into view. Smiles.

“Did you want to play?” He asked. She huffs a laugh, sips her drink.

“Don’t you get bored of it?” She replies, leaning forward to flip the case open. Inside is a familiar sight, albeit there is less money off to the side. The red and blue ddakji tiles are there though. She plucks one up and stands, “I’ll be blue.”

There’s enough space between her kitchen and living space for them to play comfortably. He follows her from the couch, picking up the remaining red tile from the slot in his case.

“You go first,” he offers, throwing his tile down laxly. Na-Eun snorts.

“How gentlemanly of you,” she teases. Focusing in on the red tile, she raised her arm and slammed her tile down. It uselessly bounces off his tile, not flipping it even slightly. Na-Eun frown. “I just remembered I hate this game.”

Sighing, she turns to him, pushing her hair back from her face. Her gaze locks on him, lips a flat line.

“Get on with it then,” she says. He stares at her, then laughs.

“I’m not going to hit you.”

Her brows crease: “I’m not paying you.”

“You can still pay with your body.”

Na-Eun laughs in disbelief, though her cheeks flush pink.

“I don’t know how you haven’t been beaten up for saying such things to people.”

Before she can say anything more, he steps closer to her, leans down to her level so they can see eye to-eye.

“How about a kiss?” He offers. She blinks in surprise. Before she can say anything, he leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek. Then he steps back, turns to pick up his tile. A glance at her, to gage her reaction. She looks slightly dazed for a moment, then just hums quietly, nods. On with the game then.

The game goes as expected. Na-Eun has little luck in flipping his tile, he flips her with ease and presses kisses against her skin; her cheeks or her nose, her forehead or temples, her knuckles once or twice.

He can tell she’s getting frustrated.

She’s scowling and cursing under her breath with every failed throw. Another loss and she throws her hands up, a swear escaping loudly passed her lips. He leans in close to her ear, whispers.

“I’m starting to think you’re losing on purpose,” he teases, then presses a kiss to her jawline.

He leaves her to her grumbling complaints, chuckling lightly. As he kneels down to pick up Na-Eun’s tile, he pauses glancing at the smattering of small pink scars on the side of her thigh. His brows furrow slightly. Confusion paints her features as she watches him, then she follows his gaze down. Her hand drops, fingertips touching the slightly-faded scars.

“You didn’t think I got out of the game unscathed, did you?” she muses, “Albeit, I did get these when I was dropped off in the city. There was some broken glass on the sidewalk, guess they didn’t notice it before they tossed me out.” Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I have worse ones from inside the game.”

A frown creases his features as he stands, holds the tile to her.

“Worse ones?” he asks, gaze flickering over her, trying to spot them. Na-Eun smirks.

“Bet you’d like to see them, they are much easier hidden,” she replies, swiping her tile from his hand. Twirling the tile, she stares down at his still on the ground, trying to figure out her plan of attack.

“What if we change up the winnings?” he offers. A glance towards him, curiosity drawing to Na-Eun’s gaze. “Whenever I win, you show me a scar.”

A short laugh.

“And what if I win?” she counters. He quirks a brow at her, waiting for her to name her choice. She hums, smile then growing to her lip. “If I win, you take off a piece of clothing. Like strip poker.”

Surprise flashes across his face and she just laughs in response. Tossing her tile in the air, she catches it again easily.

“If you are so confident in winning, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried,” he replies, then nods towards his tile. She angles her own tile, then throws it down. His tile flips. Na-Eun grins. It was pure luck, but he didn’t need to know that.

He glances at her, then just smiles lightly. His hand reaches up to undo his tie, laxly folding it and dropping it in his open suitcase, then undoing the top button of his shirt.

So the game begins anew. He picks up his tile, slams it down. Unsurprisingly, it flips. Na-Eun pulls her long sleeve up, just above her elbow. Arm raised, she shows the scar over her elbow.

“I tripped over the finish line in the first game. Luckily it wasn’t my dominant-hand side.”

Explanation over, she picks up her tile again. This time when she throws it, his tile doesn’t flip and she pouts. She really did hate this game. On his turn though, her’s flips. She sighs, shakes her head slightly. She tugs her sweater off, turns around to face away from him. She tugs the strap of her top aside, showing the scar on her shoulder blade.

“Another player attacked me one night. He didn’t last through the night.” It hadn’t been a fun time.

Another round. His tile flips; he takes his jacket off, folds it, hangs it over the arm of her couch. Her tile flips; she pulls up her shirt, revealing a scar on her ribcage, another injury from

that night of madness. He seems to be staring.

She’s taking aim when she notes movement out of the corner of her eye. He’s rolling up his sleeves to the elbow. She misses her throw entirely and curses under her breath. She’s only got one scar left to show. As expected, when he throws, her tile flips.

She pulls the hem of her shirt up, tucks her fingers under the hem of her bra to pull it slightly up. There’s a thin scar.

“I was stabbed during the squid game, but my foot was already in the circle. I had already won. My opponent was not happy. He was shot shortly afterward. I was lucky enough to get some medical care before they dropped me off,” she explains, pulling her clothing back into place. He seemed to be staring more at her exposed skin than the scar she was trying to show him. She plucks up her tile again. “That was the last one. I have one more shot, right?”

He nods: “Unless you want to go back to the old rules. I win, I get a kiss.”

She shrugs: “Fine.”

Anything was better than simple conversation. She had no interest in small talk tonight.

Na-Eun throws her tile, bated breath as she awaits the outcome. As his tile flips, she grins with a small cheer. Amusement painted on his face at her reaction. She’s too busy with her little celebration to notices he’s started to unbutton his shirt. When she has refocused, he’s already removed his shirt.

“You’ve got tattoos,” is what escapes her mouth. She had tattoos too, littered minimalistic across her body. His though, words of letters she couldn’t fully read. He just smiles at her, leans down to pick up his tile. She stares down the slope of his back. Right. The next throw. Focus, Na-Eun!

The tile is poised in his hand, thrown, her tile flips. She’s still looking at her tile when he takes two quick steps towards her. His hand slides to the side of her neck, fingertips tangling in the hair at her nape. His lips press against her’s. Her surprise gives him the chance to slip his tongue passed her lips, into the wet cavern of her mouth.

She finds herself taking steps backwards, lead by him, until her back touches the wall. He hasn’t stopped the attack on her mouth. His other hand slides over her side, starting at her hip, tracing up her ribs, then slipping down. Her hands, timidly, had lifted, found purchase on his shoulder and chest.

When he finally pulls back, her lips are bruised red and she’s breathing hard. There’s still amusement in his eyes, though they darken with … something. Lust?

His fingers find the bottom of her skirt, curling into the fabric. She says nothing, not even as he gives a pull on the fabric, displacing it off her hip. It drops the floor shortly after and Na-Eun draws in a shaky breath. His hand slides over the newly uncovered flesh of her thigh, massaging it. His other hand, still by her neck, shifts until he wraps his thumb over the front of her throat, steadying her against the wall.

His hand slips between her thighs, rubbing the sensitive inner sides until he reaches the cleft between. Na-Eun gasps quietly. His fingers slide against her through her panties, pressing against her wetness until the fabric is damp. Fingertips track up until they brush the bundle of nerves, making her jump slightly. His hand squeezes her neck slightly, holding her in places and rubbing his thumb against the side of her throat. His hand leaves her core so he can hook a finger into the side of her underpants, pulling them down her thighs until they drop to the floor with her skirt.

Now naked from the waist down, ‘exposed’ is only one way to describe herself. His fingers dip between her thighs again. A small moan escapes her. He grins, pleased. He slides two fingers into her to the hilt in a fluid motion. A small whimper. His fingers are long, moving easily in and out of her. He bumps his palm up into her clit. Her hips jerk in reply.

His fingers continue their movement. Her moans and whimpers only egg him on. He presses a kiss to her mouth as she grows close.

“Look at me,” he says. She forces her gaze to him. His fingers quicken, her fingers grip his shoulder tighter. Finally, she cums, moaning. He fingers her though her orgasm, not relenting. He doesn’t stop, even when she finishes, her thighs slick and wet, her cunt pulsing around his digits.

She whines when he doesn’t stop, but it does nothing to dissuade him. He slips another finger inside, stretching her. Leaning in, he nips at her plush bottom lip, licks into her mouth. It’s not long until she’s cumming again.

“No more,” she whines, pleading. He relents, pulling his fingers from her. When he lets go of her throat, she slumps to the floor, breathing hard. Her cunt was twitching. She glances up at him through her eyelashes, watches as he brings his hand to his mouth, sucks her wetness off his fingers.

He looks down to her, crooking a finger under her chin to lift her face higher. She’s panting, trying to drag air back into her lungs. He runs his thumb pad over her bottom lip, then slips his thumb into her mouth, pressing on her tongue. Gripping her jaw, thumb in her mouth and finger beneath her chin, he pushes her mouth open wider.

His other hand glides across his crotch for a moment before fumbling with his belt and zip. His hand slips inside the confine of his pants, pulling his cock out. His hand strokes his length, giving a small pull on her still-held jaw to urge her onto her knees. When he’s pleased with her position, he releases her mouth. She swallows thickly. He taps the tip of his head against her lips until she opens up again and he slides inside.

He’s moaning now. His hand settles on her head, brushing through her hair as he thrusts shallowly.

“Good girl,” he croons. His hand curls into her hair, holding her head steady and still so he could thrust deeper into her mouth. Her hands fumble upwards, find purchase on his thighs, fingers gripping the expensive fabric of his pants. She looks up at his through her lashes. Her tongue shifts against the bottom of his cock and he moans, thrusts so deep it makes her eyes water.

A few more thrusts and she feels something hit the back of her throat, then he pulls back slightly, the next few spurts hit her tongue. He pulls out of her mouth.

“Show me,” he says, voice thick. She opens her mouth, tongue curving out slightly so that nothing drips. Her mouth is filled, she’s practically choking on it. He groans. With him seemingly pleased, she closes her mouth, swallows. He pets her head again. “Such a good girl.”

He doesn’t say another word, not even a goodbye after he redressed and picked up his game. Na-Eun stays sitting on the ground, trying to fix her breathing, watching him. At the door, he turns back, meets her gaze. He smiles at her. Her tongue flicks over her red lips.

He steps out the door, closes it behind him.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 2: Is This A Test?

Summary: Steve begins his life at Camp Lehigh, throwing himself into training alongside the other candidates for Operation Rebirth and is shocked when on his first day he comes face to face with someone he hadn’t been expecting to see again…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Some over the clothes making out (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.

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

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

At Camp Lehigh the new recruits were met by their Sergeant, who escorted them to their quarters. There it was explained to them that as they were to form part of a programme run by the Strategic Science Reserve, a separate unit from the rest of the army training at the base, but more would become clear in an hour or so when they reported for exercise. They were then issued their standard uniform, which was awkward for Steve as even the smallest sizes felt like they drowned him but he shrugged it off reminding himself that he had finally done it. He was here, training to be a soldier.

He changed and then Sergeant Duffy appeared again, barking at them to fall in line and they followed him down to an exercise field at the rear of the barracks. Here they once more lined up, Steve taking his place in between teo men whose names he couldn’t remember and they stood, waiting.

“Recruits, attention!”  A female voice called and Steve felt his mouth drop open, because he knew the owner of said voice. “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Stark, this is Agent Carter.”  He turned to face Katie as she began walking down the line, dressed in a sharp army uniform with another woman at her side and a man behind them both who was clutching a box which contained clip files. As she reached Steve, Katie stopped and looked at him, giving him a bashful, almost apologetic smile as the other woman continued to walk.

And wait. Her surname was Stark? As in, Howard Stark? Was that her husband? Had he kissed a married woman? Fuck! Steve swallowed his worry down and averted his eyes as Katie passed down the line following Agent Carter, their eyes flicking to each man in turn.

“We supervise all operations for this division.” Agent Carter spoke in a strong British accent before she was interrupted.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” A man further down the line stated rather obnoxiously, causing Agent Carter to stop. Katie drew up alongside her, and Steve watched as, Katie’s hands fell to her hips and she studied the man who’d spoken out of line. “Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army!”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.”

At that the two women exchanged a glance and Agent Carter took a deep breath. “Step forward, Hodge.”

The man obliged, a smirk on his face as he looked around a little, no doubt to check everyone was watching.

“Put your right foot forward.” Agent Carter instructed.

“Mmm… we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Hodge spoke, before puckering his lips up in a kissing gesture.

Then, there was a flurry of movement and in a flash Katie was behind him, jerking his arm up his back. She aimed a sharp kick to the back of his knee causing Hodge to stumble to the floor. She went with him, her knee planted firmly in the base of his spine, arm twisting even more and he gave out a yell, “Okay, okay I yield.”

Steve gave a little huff of laughter, as did the man to his right as Katie stood up, not a hair out of place and smoothed down her jacket and trousers as Hodge rose to his feet. No sooner had he done that Agent Carter punched him hard, straight in the face.

And Steve laughed a little more this time, hastily straightening his face when he noticed a man, a Colonel according to the pips on his shoulders, hopping out of jeep as he barked to the two agents.

“Agent Carter, Agent Stark.”

Both of them wheeled round, springing to attention, saluting.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“Sir.”

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” He nodded to the two women before he looked down at Hodge “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hodge scrambled to his feet and slotted back into the place he’d been stood previously, looking a little sheepish.

Steve watched as Colonel Phillips started to walk down the line, addressing the new army recruits.  “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” He paused a little at that point as he looked at Steve. Steve kept his face straight, looking directly ahead. He knew full well what the Colonel was thinking, but he was here to prove him wrong. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers. And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

Super-Soldiers? The end of the week? That was five days away! Steve could hear a few murmurs down the line as some of the recruits began to exchange glances.

“Did I ask any of you to talk?” Phillips barked and silence fell once more. “The man we select will go through a procedure,” he continued, “an experimental procedure that, if successful, will significantly enhance his physical stature, amplifying all his qualities and abilities. This is not something we take lightly. It is for this reason that you will be assessed not just on your current physical abilities but your mental capacity and it won’t be easy. So if any of you are having second thoughts,” he once more paused at Steve who, as before, ignored him, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one made a sound.

***** Whilst Steve didn’t have much time to think about Katie for the rest of the day as most of his energy was taken by keeping up with the afternoon’s exercise, he found himself with plenty of time to think about her over dinner. He kept himself to himself, taking a seat at the end of a large table in the mess hall, unable to prevent the sullen mood he found himself in.

He knew it was stupid, as he hardly knew the dame, but he felt betrayed, and if truth be told a little confused. Betrayed at the fact she’d kept her true identity and vocation from him, confused as to why she’d kissed him, especially if she was married and knew they’d end up working together. It confounded his original opinion that she’d done it out of some kind of obligation, a thank you if you will for him stepping in that day on the street. Not that he needed to step in, it was perfectly clear now she’d been able to handle herself.

He looked down at the tasteless bully beef and dumplings, before he sighed and continued to eat. Whilst he wasn’t particularly hungry he knew that he had to keep his strength up, especially if he wanted to have any chance to complete the training that was in store tomorrow. When he’d had his fill, he took the tray over to the clear down area and headed outside into the warm New Jersey evening.

It was still light, the birds in the trees singing their melodic evening chorus as Steve headed over the camp towards the sleeping barracks he and the other Project Rebirth candidates had been assigned to. He trudged down the dirt path, hands in his baggy uniform pockets when he heard Katie shouting to him. Taking a deep breath, he stopped, and turned to face her, saluting.

“Agent Stark.”

“Woah, at ease, we ain’t on parade now!” She shook her head.

“Yes Ma’am.” He dropped his arm but kept it firmly by his side, still standing to attention, focussing on a spot slightly behind her.

“What’s with the Ma’am?” She frowned but Steve ignored her question. Her frown deepened and she cocked her head to one side. “Wait, are you angry at me?” Steve’s eyes flicked to hers for a second and he swallowed looking away causing her to sigh. “Steve, I…”

“You lied to me.” He blurted out, his eyes returning to hers and she frowned.

“No, I just didn’t tell you my full story.” She shrugged, lamely.

“Where I come from that’s called lying.”

“Oh come on, Steve, it’s not like you actually asked what I did for a living!”

“I asked if ya worked for Howard Stark.” He folded his arms. “And you said you did.”

“Well, I do, sorta…”

“Oh, is that as well as sorta being married to him?”

“Married?” Katie’s eyes narrowed before they widened again and she grinned. “What, you think…oh my God Steve!” She let out a laugh.

“You know, I’ve had my fill of people laughing at me today.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck.

“Howie’s my brother!”

“Your brother?” He stopped dead.

“Yes, you know, same mom, same dad.”

Steve groaned, feeling like a total, total idiot and after a moment or two of cursing himself he turned back to face her, his face bashfully tinged red. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were related? Or what it is that you actually do?”

“Because I didn’t know I was supposed to.” She looked at him. “Plus, I kinda liked not being Agent Katie Stark for a moment and just being, I dunno, some regular girl.”

Steve looked at her again before he glanced away, not quite sure what had come over him. He’d literally never had a conversation with a woman that lasted longer than a few minutes, if that, and here he was for the second time with her just rolling with it, and not just that, he was actually being a little rude. His ma would not be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, his manner contrite. “That was rude. I guess, well, it was just a shock, that’s all.”

“Do you know how people usually react when I tell them what I actually do?” Katie sighed, shaking her head “Most guys run a mile.”

“Well, I’m not like most guys.” Steve instantly retorted, repeating the sentiment she had expressed to him mere days ago. She blinked a little, before she gave a huff of laughter and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Touche, Rogers. Touche.”

“Can I ask you something?” Feeling emboldened Steve asked hastily, before he chickened out.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“Did you know? That I was gonna be here, I mean.”

“Not for certain.” Katie shook her head. “I had an idea when you told me it was a doctor from a Science Division that had recruited you but until I saw your name on the new-recruit roster this morning, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Does it matter?” Katie frowned.

“Not especially.” He popped a shoulder. “Just kinda figured that if you knew you’d be seeing me each day, you wouldn’t have…you know…”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve felt the heat rise in his neck as he thought back to that moment. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous fashion. “I mean I know you probably did it because you either felt kinda sorry for me or like you hadda thank me but this has gotta be awkward for you right? Seeing me every day as a reminder, but it’s not like I told anyone so-“

“Woah, woah, stop!” Katie shook her head, stepping towards him. “Steve, I don’t care who you told. I’m not embarrassed if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” Katie looked at him like he was stupid. “And I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you or because I felt I owed you, I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” Steve looked at her, not quite sure if he believed her or not.

“Is that so hard to comprehend?”

“Frankly, yes!” He snorted. “I mean, look at ya. You’re…” he gestured with his hand towards her. “And I’m…”

“Well lucky for you I’m not a shallow bimbo then isn’t it?” She said, an air of annoyance in her tone. “I might be a Stark, and yes, I’m privileged which means I’m expected to act a certain way with a certain type of man from a certain type of background. Maybe I just wanna act how I wanna act, with who I choose. And your assumption right then? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Katie, I didn’t-” But even by the time he’d finished half his sentence, she’d turned on her heel and left “-mean it like that.” He finished a little lamely, watching her go. His hands dropped to his bony hips and he glanced at the floor, toeing the dirt slightly before he looked up and around.

He felt so out of place, the one thing he’d wanted to do and now he was here he felt as small and as insignificant as he had ever felt. And to top it off, he’d just upset probably the one person he could have relied upon for support. But it was more than that. He felt guilty, guilty that he’d upset her and made assumptions about her, when he actually in all fairness knew nothing about her. He’d judged a book by its cover, which was what he hated everyone doing to him. With a final groan he turned and headed back towards the sleeping quarters, to unpack the small chest of belongings he’d brought with him.

If today was anything to go by, it was going to be a long week.

***** Long was an understatement.

By Monday morning,  Steve had done five different physical assault courses, various runs loaded with equipment, taken part in a number of logic puzzles, had a one on one interview with Colonel Phillips, completed written, arithmetic and geography tests and been subject to another medical examination.  He was now on a fuck knows how many miles drill run, being barked at once more by Sergeant Duffy.

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go!”

Steve was running as fast as he could, but still lagged ten or fifteen yards behind the main formation of the group. His legs ached, his chest hurt but he was damned if he was giving up.

"Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!”  Sergeant Duffy instructed as they rounded the corner of the dirt path, drawing up behind a jeep which was parked by a flag pole surrounded by white rocks on the ground. “Squad, halt!”

Finally, Steve could catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees as he inhaled deeply, watching the group of men as they gathered around their leader.

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point.”

Half way? Great…just great.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

Steve pushed his helmet back up his head, remaining where he was simply watching as the entire unit all tried to climb the pole. It was a free for all, men pushing each other out of the way, elbows flying, fists flailing. Steve however scanned the pole up and down, his brain logically thinking it through. There had to be a way to get that flag down without having to climb the pole, otherwise how did they put it up there in the first place?

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy snapped “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there!”

Hodge, who had made it a few feet further than everyone else slid down to the ground and Duffy stood back, his arms folded, smirking a little. “Nobody’s got that flag in seventeen years!” He shook his head “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!”

That signalled the end of the little pole exercise, but not for Steve. As everyone cleared away he walked towards it, glancing first at the bottom of the pole, then up to the top, squinting slightly against the sun. If he was right…

“Rogers! I said fall in!” Duffy barked, but Steve ignored him as he bent down and pulled the pin out at the bottom of the pole causing it to fall with a loud crash to the ground in a cloud of dust. He tossed the pin to the floor with a clang as everyone fell silent, watching as he removed the flag from the rope which held it to the pole. He handed it to Sergeant Duffy on his way past.

“Thank you, sir.” He said gently as he climbed into the back of the jeep. Agent Carter turned to face him from her seat in the front and he shot her a smile which she returned, an amused look spreading across her features.

Steve was damned glad of that ride home as, following lunch, they were subjected to another physical activity, this one a seemingly endless circuit training involving star jumps, push up, sit ups you name it.

“Faster, ladies!” Agent Carter barked, as they were all busy doing push ups “Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

A few more sets and she barked at them to get up, which they obeyed, springing to their feet just as Agent Stark arrived with Colonel Phillips and Dr Erskine. The three of them were clearly mid some debate, Katie looked a little annoyed and turned to Phillips snapping at him, her face flashing with anger. Erskine put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head gently and she rolled her eyes, turning away and looking over towards the group of men.  She locked eyes with Steve who watched her for a second, before Agent Carter’s voice hit his ears and he began the jumping jacks she had instructed them to partake in.

“Come on, girls.”

Steve had no idea how many he did, but he continued going, his arms and legs both spreading and then coming back together as he made jump after jump. He grit his teeth, powering through the burn he was feeling in his muscles, tossing his head out of the way slightly as his dog tags bounced off his chest after a particularly energetic leap, smacking him straight in the nose.

And then he heard it.

“GRENADE!”

All logic flew from Steve’s head and as the rest of the unit scattered he instinctively dived towards the explosive, covering it with his body, curling his knees into his chest in an attempt to minimise the impact to everyone round him.

“Get away!” He yelled, waving his arm as Agent Carter ran towards him, “get back!”

He remained curled in on himself, waiting and waiting but nothing happened. Eventually he looked up, to see everyone was slowly starting to go back to normal and he sat up, frowning a little, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.” Someone spoke as Steve glanced first at Agent Carter then over to Phillips and Erskine and finally Agent Stark. As his eyes met hers a smile crossed her face and a flash of something that looked suspiciously like pride filled her pretty features.

“Is this is a test?” He asked as he sat on the floor, completely bemused at what had just happened.

Katie tore her eyes from his to turn to Dr Erskine who was also smiling and they both simultaneously moved their attention to Colonel Phillips. He shot them both a withering look as he spoke before he turned to walk away. As he passed Katie he stopped, pointed to Steve who was now getting to his feet and she nodded, saluting.

Erskine beamed at Steve before he turned to follow Phillips away, once again patting Katie’s shoulder as he left. Steve dusted himself down and then simply watched as Katie walked over to Agent Carter, his eyes following her every move. She whispered something to the other woman who raised her eyebrows, a soft smile crossing her face. Both women then looked at him, before Peggy gave Katie a curt nod as she called the remaining soldiers back into line.

“Private Rogers,” Katie spoke, her eyes soft as she glanced at him, “with me.”

“Ma’am.” He scrambled after her, tripping over his feet slightly as he hurried to catch up with her, glancing back at the line of men who were now being addressed by Agent Carter before she dismissed them all.

“What…where are the rest of the guys goin’?” he began to ask and Katie turned to look at him as he fell into step besides her, to her left.

“They’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve frowned.

“Yup.” Katie nodded as she led him across the training field and onto the gravel track. “They’ll be re-assigned to other units.”

“Other units?” Steve frowned, before her words finally registered “You mean…”

Katie stopped and turned to look at him, smiling as she brushed some of the dirt from his shoulder. “Congratulations. You’re gonna become our first Super Soldier.”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then shook his head. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Katie shook her head. “I can assure you this is deadly serious.” She took a deep breath and turned to walk down the track to her right.

“Why me?” Steve blurted out as they rounded a row of military jeeps

Katie smiled at him “The fact you’re even asking that should tell you everything you need to know. But if you really want the detailed answer, you should ask Abe.”

“Who?”

“Dr Erskine.”

“Okay, I will, where is he?” Steve looked round almost as if he expected the Doctor to appear form behind the munitions store they were passing.

“I suspect on his way to Brooklyn to meet Howie at the lab.” Katie replied “He’ll be back later so you can talk to him then.”

“The lab’s in Brooklyn?” The surprise was evident in Steve’s voice as Katie led him to one of the large green dome like structures that housed the offices. “So that’s why you were there that day.”

Katie grinned. “Not just a pretty face, are ya?” She stood still, snapping to attention and saluted to the guard on the door who immediately saluted back.

“Agent Stark.” He greeted as he stepped to his right, opening the door for them both to step into. Steve followed behind her down a long corridor. They turned left at the end and Katie stopped outside a door to their right which held a name tag informing them that it was Colonel Phillips’ office.  She gave a sharp rap, and then without waiting for an answer opened the door and stepped in, Steve following.

The Colonel looked up as they entered the room, placing the pen he’d been writing with down on his desk.

“Shut the door.” Phillips barked and Steve scrambled to do as he was told before he drew himself up tall and saluted his superior. “At ease, Rogers.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and relaxed as much as he could. At that point there was another knock on the door and he turned to see Agent Carter step inside.

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to Peggy who smiled at him.

“So, I’m assuming Agent Stark has given you the low down?” Phillips spoke and Steve turned back to him, giving a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, saves me a job.”

“When don’t I?” Katie quipped and Steve’s eyes widened at the fact she’d basically just sassed a superior officer. There was a moment’s pause before Phillips snorted.

“One of these days, Agent Stark, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble.”

“I look forward to it.”

Phillips shot her another look which she met with a smirk and he scoffed a little, turning his attention to Steve. “So, Rogers, Dr Erskine has chosen you as the candidate to become our first Super Soldier.”

“It’s an honor, Sir.”

“Do you have any questions?” Peggy looked at Steve.

Steve pondered for a second. Truth be told he had a lot of questions, but the biggest one, the why, that was going to have to wait for Dr Erskine himself. He took a deep breath and looked up at the Agent before his eyes flicked to Colonel Phillips, and back again.

“What does the procedure actually entail?”

“Agent Stark, you wanna take this?” Phillips looked at her and she nodded.

“You’ll be injected with Erskine’s formula.” Katie looked at Steve “This will cause immediate change to your cells, your DNA. Then to stimulate the change and growth, you’ll be subjected to an intense permeation of Vita-Rays, in a chamber that my brother and Erskine developed especially.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

Katie took a deep breath and shrugged. “On the animal test subjects we’ve used, yeah but I’m not gonna lie to you Steve, other than a Nazi scientist named Johan Schmidt the serum hasn’t been tested on any human subject.”

“What happened to this Schmidt guy?” Steve asked and Katie looked at Phillips, then Peggy, and when she turned back to him he swallowed a little at the look of apprehension on her face.

“It didn’t go the way he planned, but that said the formula was incomplete. Erskine will be able to tell you more tomorrow.” She answered softly. Steve thought on her words for a moment, his eyes still locked onto hers as she licked her lips, offering him nothing but a shrug. “In simple terms, we don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. So you need to think carefully.”

“When is it gonna happen?”

“The procedure will take place tomorrow morning.” Agent Carter spoke. “So you have little over fourteen hours.”

“So despite what Agent Stark says,” Phillips spoke, shooting Katie a look which she met with an equally annoyed one of her own, “there’s little to no time for contemplation.”

“There’s fourteen hours…” Katie began to protest.

“Did I ask for your input?” Phillips snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

“No, you never do. Maybe if you did we-“

“If you want to remain part of this unit you’ll stop that sentence right there.” Phillips pointed at her. Katie’s mouth pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, shaking her head as she looked away. Steve’s eyes turned back to Phillips who spoke. “If you want out, now is the time to speak up so we can find someone else. Are you in, Rogers? Because if you are, after this meeting and you leave this room, there’s no going back.”

“But I’ve only had like five days of basic training.” Steve frowned “Is that going to be enough?”

“We’re on a schedule.” Phillips shrugged, “It’s going to have to be.”

“Your basic training, or lack thereof, shouldn’t be a problem.” Peggy shook her head “Our intention is to continue to train you up fully so that you’re prepared to lead the others who we, well, who we convert.”

Steve took a deep breath and glanced once more at Katie, who was staring to her left, her jaw set. Was he in? He began to logically step through things in his head. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew full well that if he said no he’d be shipped off to another unit and likely sent home or shoved into some kind of non-combat role due to his current lack of physical abilities or strength. The serum might not work, but then what? He ended up deformed? Or dead? But if he was perfectly honest with himself, having had a taste of what it was like to do what he always wanted to, if the opportunity was taken away from him, he might as well be dead anyway.

It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. He had to do this.

“I’m in.” Steve nodded, his voice loaded with conviction as he gave a firm nod.

To the side of him Katie took a deep breath, an action mimicked by Colonel Phillips, before the older man turned to Agent Carter who stepped to the side revealing a piece of paper on the desk.

“In that case then I need you to sign this.” Phillips said “It’s a form stating that you consent to the procedure. Just a formality that Stark is insisting on.”

“God forbid we do things properly.” Katie mumbled. Phillips shot her another withering glare before he waved a pen at Steve. Steve stepped forward, took the pen off him and glanced down at the form. His eyes scanned it and then, without further hesitation he scribbled his name on the space at the bottom.

“Congratulations Private Rogers.” Phillips nodded as Agent Carter moved to place the form in a filing cabinet at the back.

“So, now what do I do?” Steve asked.

“You can do what the hell you want, within reason.” Phillips shrugged “But you can’t leave base, can’t risk anything happening to you. Not now.”

“By the time you get back to your barracks, everyone else will have packed up and left so I suggest you make the most of the peace and quiet.” Agent Carter smiled. “Because you’re going to be pretty busy from Tomorrow onwards.”

Steve nodded to show he understood and then he was dismissed. Saluting to Phillips he turned to leave the room, followed by Katie who herself was leaving to see her brother.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat tonight?” She asked him as they left the building. “And I don’t mean any of the shit they serve in the mess.”

Steve looked up. “I suppose some of Mrs Tromley’s home made preserve is out of the question?”

“Leave it with me.” She smiled and Steve looked at her for a second before he took a deep breath.

“Look, Agent- Katie, I err, wanted to apologise for my outburst the other night. I was rude and…”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold a grudge.” She paused and turned to face him. “Alright that’s a lie, I do. But only against people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?” Steve asked with a slight smile and she shrugged.

“For now, no. Plenty of time for me to change my mind though.” And with that, just as she had done at the expo she turned and left him standing there, tossing him a wink over her shoulder as she walked away.

 *****

Katie came through with the preserve, a small jar along with a crusty cob of bread was waiting in his bunk later that evening when he returned from the bathroom cabin. He ate sat on his bed, mulling everything over in his mind before he stood up and decided to go for a walk. He found a nice quiet spot hidden behind one of the munition sheds and sat to draw for a while, a particularly gnarled old tree the target of his attention. When the light diminished too much for him to see properly, he headed back and dropped his sketchbook into his rucksack before he settled down with a book open on his lap.

For the next few hours he tried to read but none of it was really sinking in. He had butterflies in his stomach, not nerves as such, but apprehension, definitely, at what he was letting himself in for. As he re-read the same sentence he’d been looking at for the last ten minutes, there was a knock at the door which made him jump slightly and he turned to look over his left shoulder as Dr Erskine stood in the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in his hand.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, closing the book as Erskine walked over the floor, placing the glass on the trunk at the end of Steve’s bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked as he moved towards the bed opposite Steve.

“I got the jitters, I guess.” Steve shrugged.

Erskine laughed “Me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve dropped the book he had been reading down on the trunk next to the glass.

“Just one?” Erskine looked at Steve as he sat down facing him. Steve still had a lot of questions, but the one he wanted an answer to most was the one that flew out of his mouth.

“Why me?”

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.” Erskine said after a moment’s pause. He looked down at the bottle of schnapps he brought with him, turning the label so Steve could see it. “This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own.” He took a breath “You know, after the last war my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the… and the… “ Erskine waved his hand as he took a deep breath, straightening his glasses “And he… he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says, ‘You’,” Erskine pointed to emphasise his point, “he says, ‘you will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shook his head as he placed the bottle on the floor between his feet, Steve’s eyes following his movements “So he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.”

That name Steve recognised from before, the one Katie told him about. He watched as Erskine continued talking, once more pushing his glasses up his nose. “Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle and he’s ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, left here by the Gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist.” Erskine paused as Steve looked at him, understanding immediately he was referring to Schmidt taking the formula. “Schmidt must become that superior man.”

Remembering what Katie had said, about it not going according to plan he looked at Erskine. “Did it make him stronger?”

“Yeah. But, there were other effects.” Erskine conceded, but didn’t elaborate further. “The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.” He explained and Steve glanced down, taking all the information in “This is why you were chosen.”

At that Steve looked back up at him, his brow furrowing deeply as Erskine continued “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, frowning slightly, “I think.” He glanced at Erskine who smiled at him, and then waved in the direction of the two glasses on the trunk at the foot of the bed. As Steve took the glasses, pulling the top one out with his right hand, Erskine uncorked the schnapps and began to pour the liquid.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing.” Erskine said, corking the bottle one more and setting it down on the floor “That you will stay who you are.” Erskine took a glass off Steve and stared straight into his eyes, almost as if he was trying to drive the message home. “Not a perfect soldier, but a good-“ he pointed at Steve’s chest “- man.”

Steve took a deep breath, holding his glass up and he allowed that fleeting warmth of pride spread across his chest, just for a second, as he smiled. “To the little guys.”

“Ha ha!” Erskine agreed, chinking his glass against Steve’s but just as Steve was about to take a drink Erskine suddenly spluttered. “No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing?” He reached out, taking Steve’s glass off him “No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

Seriously?

Steve watched as Erskine poured the contents of Steve’s glass into his own and sighed a little, he’d been looking forward to that.

“All right. We’ll drink it after.” He shrugged.

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow.” Erskine gestured towards himself. “Drink it after? I drink it now.”

Steve gave a small smile as the doctor knocked back the clear liquid in the glass and was just about to speak to tease him a little about making sure he had a clear head for the morning, when there was another knock on the door. Steve’s head turned to look as Katie stepped inside the dorm, smiling.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at Erskine whose mouth curled up a little at one side in a knowing smirk.

“And that is my cue to leave.” He stood up. “I will see you in the morning, Steven.”

He squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he strode past, the bottle of schnapps in his hand as Katie moved to allow him through the doorway. He smiled once more before he shut the door behind him leaving the pair of them in the dim light of the bare sleeping room. Steve looked at Katie, inhaling deeply as even in the simple combat trousers and plain khaki t-shirt she was wearing she still looked effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back off her face in a simple braid, and her skin was devoid of her usual make up, lips clear of their normal bright red paint. He realised with a slight swallow that this is what she’d look like at home, last thing at night and first thing in the morning…

He shifted a little on the side of his bed and watched as she walked over to take the spot Erskine had vacated.

“Are you supposed to be in here?” Steve finally spoke and she shrugged.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be seen as appropriate if we were caught but…” She paused and gave a twitch of a smirk, “Steve, you’re gonna become a super soldier tomorrow, you can do what the hell you want!”

He inhaled a little sharply at her words as those inappropriate thoughts once more reared in his head and he felt his neck and cheeks grow warm.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” She smiled.

“Thanks?” he shook his head before he glanced up at her. “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were.” She shrugged.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why?” She looked at him, as if he’d just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “Because I care about you Steve.”

“You care about me?” He repeated, the disbelief evident in his tone.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Of course I do.”

Steve watched her for a moment, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of something a little less composed under her normally cool and confident exterior. She was biting her lip, her teeth worrying at her plump bottom one as her right hand gently pulled at the knuckles of her left.

“You’re nervous.” He spoke suddenly and her eyes locked onto his, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just, well, this is a huge thing, Steve. A culmination of years of work from not just the SSR but Stark Industries, and Erskine.” She looked at him and shook her head, giving a little snort. “God I know that sounds pathetic compared to what you must be feeling.”

“Well, I’m a little twitchy, that’s fo’ sure, but I’m not scared scared, does that make sense?” He asked and she looked at him, a smile twisting on her lips.

“That’s because you’re ridiculously brave.”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s one word I really wouldn’t use to describe you. I heard about the flag.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled a little and she grinned.

“Peggy said it was the best thing she’d ever seen. No one’s rendered Sergeant Duffy speechless before but he was pretty impressed that night at briefing.”

“It was just logic.” Steve flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m pretty good at using my head. You haff’ to be when you’re as small and as weak as I am.”

“Don’t.” Katie shook her head.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that. You’re not weak.”

At that Steve gave a snort. “Come on Doll, physically I’m a wreck. That’s one of the reasons Erskine picked me.” no sooner had he spoke, he realised what he’d said and his eyes widen at the involuntary use of the pet term but Katie merely laughed, arching her brow.

“Doll?”

“Sorry Ma’am.” He winced “Just slipped out.”

“I’m flattered.” She chuckled, before giving a sigh. “But back to what you just said, about why Erskine picked you. It isn’t just because you’re physically weak. It’s because that serum amplifies everything about you Steve…”

“Yeah, good becomes great, bad becomes worse.” Steve repeated the words Erskine had spoken to him not five minutes ago.

“Exactly.” Katie looked at him. “Erskine could have chosen any one of the guys that were in here with you, but he didn’t. He saw something in you, something that none of the others had.” She bit her lip and grinned as she leaned back slightly on the bed. “You’re a lion disguised as a lamb, Rogers.” “Oh, jeez!” He snorted shaking his head as she laughed. “Now you sound like Bucky, that’s the kinda nonsense that jerk would come out with.”

At that Katie wrinkled her nose. “In that case I take it back.”

“Thank you, now I feel great.” Steve retorted sarcastically and she laughed loudly, snorting as she did so. Her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth as Steve chuckled at her very un-lady like manner, his head falling forward as his own laughs rang out around the barracks. Eventually, Katie managed to stop, wiping her eyes and she shook her head.

“Sometimes I think it’s a blessing my parents are no longer around. My mom especially would be horrified if they could see how uncouth I act at times.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “If you were my daughter I’d be pretty proud of how you turned out.”

Katie smiled shyly at his compliment. “Thanks Stevie. I’m sure yours would feel the same.”

He didn’t ask how she knew his parents were both dead, it was fairly obvious she would have read his file. Instead he simply smiled and looked down at his hands “I like to think so. Although I’m pretty sure if my ma was still around and knew what I was doing tomorrow she’d have a coupla’ things to say about it. And a few slaps ready for the back ‘o ma head!”

“Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled, “If my dad could see me here, right now. Man, he’d be apoplectic. ‘The army is no place for a woman’!” She mimicked a deep voice before she shook her head. “Mind you, not like I’ve never heard it before.” She took a deep breath and looked at him. “You’ve never commented on it though.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head, shrugging. “That’s not how my ma brought me up. She was a single parent for all my life, anything a man could do in the house she did just as well. Besides, I know what it’s like to be told no because of what or who you are.”

“Ironically, who I am kinda got me through the door.” Katie shrugged, and when Steve looked at her pondering what she meant, she continued. “I was already working for the CIA when Howie told me that Colonel Phillips had approached him about working for the SSR. Naturally I wanted in but of course there were grumbles about it because I was a female. But my brother put his foot-down, said we came as a team, so they relented. Plus, Peggy, or Agent Thirteen was she was then, was already in deep cover working for Schmidt as a maid in his personal mansion.” She licked he lips and shrugged. “Colonel Phillips convinced the CIA to send me undercover as Peggy’s friend, a go-between if you will meaning there was less risk of her cover being blown.” She paused and glanced at him as Steve simply watched, rapt with attention. “Over the next few months we obtained details of Schmidt’s plan, what he was intending to do with Erskine’s serum and we knew we couldn’t possibly let the Nazi’s perfect it. Since we rescued Erskine, he and Howard have been working on finishing the formula, building the necessary equipment to ensure that it works. And Peggy and I were given our reward which was permission to serve in the allied army as SSR Agents.”

“Permission?” Steve deadpanned and Katie snorted.

“Yup.”

“Interesting reward.”

“I’d have taken whatever chance they gave to me.” She shrugged. “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Steve looked at her, the similarities in their stories were striking even despite their different backgrounds. But he still didn’t get it. She was beautiful, could have married well, just like most gals of her status, and his confusion must have shown as she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Don’t you think I was right to do so?”

“No, I mean, yes I do. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’d wanna join the army if you’re a beautiful dame.”

At that both her eyebrows raised and he cursed himself. He’d managed most of this conversation so far not to put his foot in his mouth and now, wham, kicked himself straight in the teeth. “Or a beautiful… a woman.” He floundered for words “An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but…”

“Why do you get so nervous when you speak to me?” Katie asked and Steve shook his head, giving a little huff as she called him out, groaning a little.

“Because up until the point I met you I think the longest conversation I ever had with a woman would have been with Mrs Barnes or Mrs Tomley.” he looked up at her, before he glanced back down at his hands. “Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.”

“You must have danced?” Katie frowned, and she seemed genuinely surprised at what he was admitting.

“Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying.” Steve shrugged “And the past few years just didn’t seem to matter that much. Figured I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“The right partner.” He said, his eyes still focussed on his hands. He could feel Katie looking at him and eventually he raised his eyes to see her smiling softly at him.

“Well, I think all the girls in Brooklyn are dumbasses for not noticing you.”  With her words she stood up and crossed to the bed he was sat on, taking a spot besides him. Steve swallowed, his entire body going rigid at the fact she was so close to him and she turned her face to look into his eyes. “You’re sweet”

He chuckled “You know I hear that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said,” she bumped her shoulder against his slightly, “dumbasses”

Steve looked at her before he felt his cheeks once more growing warm and he looked away, hastily, focussing on nothing in particular as her words echoed around his head. He didn’t know how to respond to praise, not in the sense in which she was giving it to him anyway.

“But seriously, why does me complimenting you make you so awkward, Steve?” She asked, and despite himself Steve’s head shot up to look at her once more, his mouth falling open at the fact that she’d unwittingly just read his mind.

He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry if it makes you feel awkward.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands for a moment before she glanced back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light. “But I just, well, I like you Steve,” she whispered, “I mean, really like you.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry as her eyes flicked down to his lips, the same way they had at the Expo and he swallowed, the lump thick in his throat.

“I err, I…” He took a deep breath, the palms of his hands feeling clammy, those green emeralds sparkling as he looked at her, his mind willing him to summon the courage to say what he wanted to. And before he could chicken out, he blurted the words. “I like you too.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she gently moved towards him, closing the already small distance between them as Steve reached up, with a shaky right hand, his actions completely instinctual. He gently cupped her cheek as his lips found hers and he kissed her, tentatively at first before soon the kiss was as deep as it had been at the Expo. His spare hand balled into a fist by his side as he was unsure exactly what to do with it until he felt Katie’s fingers gently work his away from his palm and she pulled his left arm towards her. Following her lead, he tentatively pressed his palm onto her hip as she shifted her weight slightly, wrapping her arms round his neck. She pulled him closer, the kiss growing deeper and Steve couldn’t help the soft little whimper that rolled in his throat.

As the involuntary noise filed the air between them he felt Katie’s lips smile against his and then, he was pitching forward as she fell slowly backwards, pulling him down with her as she sank onto the bunk. The movement came as surprise but he didn’t resist. With a shaky breath he paused for a moment, realising he had absolutely no idea what to do next other than run with it. So, after a second or so more deliberation, he went once more with his gut and crawled over her, resting his weight on his palms which he placed either side of her head before he dropped his face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips felt so soft against his, something he wasn’t sure he’d taken the time to appreciate before, or maybe it was all simply heightened by the fact he was lay over her, he had no idea. But what he did know was that when Katie placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity tingling all the way down his spine. She was the one to break away this time, breathing deeply as her head rest on his hard, army issued pillow, her eyes bouncing across both of his.

“You okay?” She asked and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I err…” He swallowed and gave a little huff of shy laughter as he hung his head a little, peeking up a her shyly “I don’t know what I’m doing, or even if we should be doing it at all.”

“What do you mean if we should be doing it at all?”

“Well, we’re not…” He licked his lips “I mean, I should be taking you out, on a date or…well, at least doing things properly, not just…”

“Steve, we’re in the middle of a damned war.” Katie looked at him, cutting his protests off dead. “Every day could be your last, to hell with rules and being prim and proper.”

Steve had to concede she had a point, and as he looked into her eyes he could feel that last thread of his self-control starting to fray. Every inch of his body was on fire for her, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her stupid and feel her underneath him.

“Don’t over think it.” She muttered, her lips ghosting over his. “Just run with it.”

So he did. He kissed her hard, dropping to his elbows and pressing a little more of his weight on top of her, totally lost in her warmth and softness. He let out another soft sigh as he felt her shift underneath him and pulled away, turning his head so that his lips were inches from her neck as he recalled a part of a film he’d seen. He glanced up at her as she watched him, her pupils blown with a combination of lust and anticipation.

“Can I kiss you here?” He whispered softly.

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. As he did so, his arms and hands moved downwards slowly, his fingers timidly resting on her hips as they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him as she groaned slightly at the contact.  Steve pulled back to stare at her again, her noise shocking him slightly, not sure what to do next but Katie wordlessly answered his silent question by tilting her hips up again, and this time it was him who moaned.

“Katie, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or do anything-”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She pushed her head upwards, mouth seeking his out as her hands slid under his t- shirt. He twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his flat, soft stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. Katie grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and he hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to see him topless, but she gave an impatient yank, taking the decision away from him and he held his arms up so she could remove it. Once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. He swallowed, as her eyes roved his various pox marks and scars and shivered as she let her hands wander, tracing a path down towards the top of his khaki pants. Her eyes met his and she sat up slightly pushing him back a little to allow herself enough room to reach down and pull her own T-shirt over her head.

Steve’s mouth was dry again as he glanced down at her chest, her hair falling around her shoulders, breasts spilling over the tops of the simple, black balcony cups of her bra and his groin twitched, the crotch of his pants now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he froze as he found himself once more unsure of his next move. Swallowing hard against the lump that felt like it was obstructing his entire throat he began to gently squeeze and knead the soft flesh and black lace, before he stopped again to consider his next move.

“It’s okay,” she encouraged and with a nod, his hands slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin automatically bumped against hers. Katie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling hard, forcing his head back sharply and as she tugged he let out another low growl. When she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking, her pupils blown so wide there was hardly any green left.

“Don’t stop,” her hands moved down to grab at his lower back, pulling him back against her as she moved her knees, bending them so that his pelvis was flush with her, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his trousers. Taking her lead, Steve ground against her again, and again, and as he continued his movements, he became aware that the rhythm of his hips was becoming more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate.

“More,” Katie moaned into his mouth, and with movements that were completely and utterly automatic he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. It should have been wrong, rutting up against someone fully clothed, but God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him

As he pressed up against her, the tightening across his lower stomach that he’d only felt before when bringing himself off warned him he was fast approaching his release. He let out another groan as he felt his movements beginning to lose rhythm and he moved his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin. Katie moaned brokenly and his mouth continued pressing kisses to the spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more sloppy grinds against her she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair, her, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life as it tumbled from her lips. Seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy, his head dropping  to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

There was no noise bar the sound of the crickets drifting in from the outside as they both lay, breathing deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies, a light sheen of sweat beaded across Steve’s brow, wisps of his hair sticking to his skin. Finally mustering enough strength to move, he raised his head to look at her, to find her smiling as she pushed her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Wow,” she breathed and Steve let out a soft huff of laughter as he sat up to allow her the space to do the same, “you got game Soldier, I’ll give you that.”

Steve snorted and shook his head as he passed retrieved her t-shirt from the floor and passed it to her. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shrugged “I erm…”

“Let you into a secret.” She said gently, pulling her top over her head, flicking her hair back as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Neither have I. Well, not to that extent anyway.”

“What?” Steve frowned “You’ve never…”

“You expecting me to be some kind of wild harlot or sumthin’ Stevie?” She teased as she stood up, Steve scrambling to his feet mimicking her.

“No I just, pretty girl like you, I thought…”

“What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?” She asked before she gently kissed him again. When she pulled away, her nose bumped his slightly and she pressed her forehead to his. “I best go. I don’t wanna but…” she glanced at the window and looked back at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the lab.”

“Sure.” Steve followed her a little before she stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at him once more.

“Whatever happens I want you to know that you’re already one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath. “You suddenly becoming all big and strong and…well, whatever, won’t change the fact that you already had the heart of a hero, certainly in my eyes anyway.”

And Steve could do nothing but smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

**** Chapter 3

[shireness-says]

The Set-Up Scam

Summary: They’ve always been friends first and foremost - Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - until suddenly, they’re something a little more too. But with a $600 betting pool on the line about when they’ll actually get together - well, maybe there’s incentive to keep the good news a secret. ~5.5k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3. 

~~~~~

A/N: Merry Christmas, @nevertothethird! I was delighted to be your pair for @cssecretsanta2020. It’s been wonderful chatting with you, and I look forward to a full stalking. ;)

You said you liked secret dating, friends to lovers, and characters being forced to work together - so I, like a fool, tried to include all three. I hope you like the result!

Special thanks, as always, to my beta, @snidgetsafan - the greatest treasure under any tree.

Tagging: @ohmightydevviepuu, @welllpthisishappening, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @thejollyroger-writer, @superchocovian, @teamhook, @optomisticgirl, @winterbaby89, @searchingwardrobes, @katie-dub, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @phiralovesloki, @profdanglaisstuff

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

They’re friends, first and foremost. Best friends, really - Killian and Emma, Emma and Killian. Partners in crime and two peas in a pod and every other cliché there is (and Killian would definitely know all of them). It’s been that way since the very beginning, when Killian let her peek at his attendance quiz answers in that awful intro to astronomy class in college. Their relationship had grown from there: late nights in the library and each others’ dorm rooms, studying or watching movies or chatting, all the way through graduation and eventually grad school. They get each other in a way that usually doesn’t happen for Emma, both coming from rough backgrounds and determined to make the world a better place because of it. Hell, they even work together now at Misthaven County Middle School - Killian as an English teacher, and Emma as a guidance counselor. 

And all that time, it’s been strictly platonic. 

It’s not like Emma hasn’t looked. He’s an objectively good looking man, and smart and sweet and funny. But he’d been in some “it’s complicated” situation with a grad student when they’d met, and then Emma was in that weird period where she and Graham gave it a shot, and by the time they were both available… well, by that time, they’d been Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A collective, a pair, absolutely entwined every way but romantically. He’d become her person, and it wasn’t worth risking that. There was no guarantee a romantic relationship would work out, anyways - or that Killian felt the attraction too. 

The thing, though, is that they’re Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. Always together, always in each other’s stories, two birds of a feather. People constantly think that they’re together - or should be.

Emma doesn’t really mind, most of the time. She and Killian usually think it’s pretty funny, trading stories back and forth on his or her couch. Where it gets annoying is when each and every one of their friends are determined they should be dating. It’s been years of meaningful looks and hints about “so why aren’t you seeing anyone, Emma?” - but the last straw is the stupid, stupid bet.

“I just don’ unnerstand why you and Killian aren’t a couple!” slurs Mary Margaret, assistant principal and friend, at her yearly end-of-summer bash. “You’re ovviously in loooooooooove.”

“Sure we are, Mary Margaret,” Emma placates. 

“But why haven’t you yet?” she demands. “You made me lose the pool!”

That draws Emma up short. “I’m sorry, what?”

The little pixie-haired brunette frowns. “Don’t you know? We’ve had a betting pool going for ages about when you’d get together this year. I thought for sure it’d be the Fourth of July.”

It’s a good guess, actually - Ruby throws a famously boozy bash every year at her grandmother’s diner, conveniently situated right below the inn. It’d make sense for them to get drunk and take things upstairs - except for the fact that none of this is rooted in sense in any way, shape, or form.

“That obviously didn’t happen,” Mary Margaret frowns sorrowfully, staring down into her plastic cup full of god-knows-what. It doesn’t last long, though, as she perks right back up. “But they let me make a new guess! I’ve got my money on the Friday after your birthday.”

“How much money are we talking here?” Emma can’t help but ask. It’s like a compulsion, one she doesn’t like or understand. 

“Five hundred and fifty dollars.” At least that’s what she thinks Mary Margaret says; the slurring gets particularly bad on the f-sounds. It’s an astounding sum. Truly stupid.

Kind of tempting.

“And everyone bet that it would happen this year?” she makes sure to clarify.

“Yup!” Mary Margaret pops the p-sound and then giggles to herself about the noise. 

“Then I’m putting fifty dollars on it not happening this year. That Killian and I won’t get together.”

———

She means it at the time, too. Because yeah, there’s sometimes that niggling little what if?, but they’ve known each other for eight years. Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. It’s not going to happen - honestly she’s not even sure she would want it to.

Until. 

It’s not the Friday after her birthday, when they’re all going to hit the bar, but it’s the night before her birthday - a Tuesday. Killian comes over to grade vocab quizzes and eat greasy pizza, and stays to drink beer and watch stupid baking shows with her on the couch. Honestly, in so many ways, it’s a night like any other: two friends, just enjoying each other’s company.

Until.

Maybe it’s the beers. Maybe something’s been building for longer than she ever thought. Maybe it’s just that they’re both feeling good and, well, it is her birthday. But Killian kisses her - or she kisses Killian - they kiss each other and it’s like something slots into place. Like of course this was going to happen - they were just waiting for the perfect moment. It makes sense, in a way that Emma hasn’t let herself think about; he’s the person she trusts most, the best man she knows, probably the most important person in her life. Her best friend - and, probably, something more.

“That was…” he gasps, some indeterminable amount of time later. Somehow, he’s wound up on top of her on the couch - not that she’s complaining.

“Only the beginning,” Emma completes, smirking in a way she definitely picked up from him. 

Now that this has started, she has no intention of stopping. 

———

“Ok, don’t kill me - or, like, run away immediately - but I need a favor. A huge one,” Emma says much later, both of them naked and sated beneath her sheets.

Killian laughs beside her, peering up from the pillows with a smile. “After that, darling, I’m predisposed to give you just about anything you want.”

“And I’ll give it to you again,” she quips back, mostly to make him keep laughing. It works. “But seriously. Did you know that everyone’s got a bet going on us?”

That pops his head up. “I’m sorry, a bet? I… What? Who?”

“Seems like pretty much everyone. Ruby, Mary Margaret, David, Robin, Belle… I could go on and on. A six hundred dollar pool on when we get together.”

“Typical,” Killian mutters - though Emma catches a fond note in his tone. “Who’s the lucky winner, then?”

“Ok, this is where the favor comes in.” Hopefully this isn’t a breaking point for him; Emma would hate to have this taste of them, only to have it ripped away from her. “See, Mary Margaret told me about this when she got trashed at the back to school party, and I’d had a few too and was all hopped up on righteous fury or whatever, and I kind of… put fifty dollars in the pot that we wouldn’t get together this year at all.”

Killian stares at her for a moment, and Emma’s frankly scared that he’s going to get out of bed and go - but instead, he bursts into a near-hysterical cackle. “So you want to keep this a secret until the new year, so you can win the pot?”

Emma grins, knowing she must look like the cat that ate the canary (or however that weird-ass saying goes - again, English is Killian’s thing). “Exactly. We could spend it on a weekend getaway or something.”

“I’m in, then. Under the radar.”

“It’s just two months and change,” Emma says. “It’ll speed by. How hard can it be?”

———

Turns out - their friends are determined to make it as hard as possible. Even if they don’t know it.

Things are fine, at first. In fact, nothing really changes: Emma and Killian still show up at each others’ doors most nights, and Killian comes to hang out and grade papers in her office during his free periods most days. It’s just that their evenings are now filled with kisses and touches, and those afternoons in her office with all kinds of promises of things to come. It’s thrilling, in a way, to put on the front of normality for everyone else while only they know the truth. It’s nice, too, to be able to get their feet underneath them in this relationship without so many prying eyes watching them figure it all out. 

Just because they don’t know, though, doesn’t mean their friends stop trying. There’s a bet on the line, after all, and their friends have never exactly been ones to step back and let things naturally run their course. Not for those busybodies; not with six hundred dollars and Emma and Killian’s supposed happiness on the line.

(The fact that they’re right - that the two of them really are happiest together - is irrelevant.)

David, of all people, is the first to start meddling.

“Do you guys want to get dinner?” he asks out of the blue one day - calls Emma up on her phone and everything. “You and Killian and me and Mary Margaret, I mean.”

Emma’s antenna raises immediately. “What, like a double date? C’mon, David —”

“No! No,” he says hastily - a little too hastily, Emma thinks. “No, a cousin of mine - Kris, you’ve met him - he’s opening up his own restaurant. Some place with Scandinavian food, I guess?”

“That’s actually a thing?” 

“I guess. I don’t know, he studied abroad in Norway in college. Anyways, he could use a little business, support or whatever, so Mary Margaret and I figured we’d bring some extra people along. You know, help him out. And maybe Scandinavian food is good after all.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The line sits silent for a moment, before David breaks. “So… you in?”

And as much as Emma suspects this is all some elaborate set-up - well, it’s supposed to be to help someone else. David’s cousin, who she has in fact met and is really a good guy. And so she reluctantly agrees. “Yeah, I’m in. One of us will have to check with Killian if he’s available —”

“What, he’s not right there with you?”

(He is, his lips kiss-swollen and pulled into a delicious smirk, but that’s not the point and none of David’s business.)

“ — but yeah, I’m down.”

In the week between the call and the dinner, Emma actually finds herself starting to look forward to it. Yeah, it won’t be a real date - not with David and Mary Margaret there - but it’s still a chance to wear a pretty dress that’ll make Killian’s eyes bug a little. She’ll have to pick something he’ll have fun taking off of her later, once they’ve pretended to go back to their own homes. 

Emma’s just pulling into the parking lot, however, when her phone rings, David’s name popping up on the screen. 

“We’re not going to make it tonight,” he says without preamble, followed by the most fake-ass cough Emma’s ever heard in her life. “We’re sick.”

“Yeah, sick off your own lies,” Emma mutters. “Alright, well, I guess we’ll go another time —”

“Oh no, I insist you guys still have dinner. You and Killian deserve to have a night off!”

“David, c’mon, don’t play dumb —”

He ignores her. “Besides, you’ll be doing me - and Kris - a huge favor. I already told him to charge whatever you guys get to me. Splurge a little, have dessert and a bottle of wine. It’s all on me.”

Killian climbs out of his own car as David pleads his case, cocking his head in confusion at the no doubt frustrated look on Emma’s face. He looks like he wants to kiss it better; Emma wishes he could actually do so.

“Fine,” she caves. “If you’re sure. But I’m running up the bill.”

“You say that like it’s a surprise.”

Emma takes particular glee in ending the call. She should have seen this coming. “Looks like David has come down with a possibly fatal cough, so he and Mary Margaret aren’t coming tonight,” she tells Killian, rolling her eyes. No need to resist that particular urge.

He snorts. “Ah, liar-itis. I thought he might be coming down with a case.”

“Complicated by meddler’s cough. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course not.” He dips down to capture her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss - another urge they don’t have to resist with none of their friends around to see it. “You look lovely tonight, Swan.”

She smirks back. “I know.”

“Of course you do,” he laughs. “I’m sure you wore that just to torment me through dinner. Now, shall we?”

“We shall.” Emma slips her hand through his offered arm. “Dinner’s on David, by the way.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

———

“So, how was dinner?” David asks the next day, his cough mysteriously cleared up. 

“Good,” Emma replies, knowing exactly what he’s digging for. “Your cousin’s got a good lingonberry cheesecake. Don’t worry, Killian and I totally ran up the bill. Kris has been well supported. You’re welcome.”

“And?” he demands.

Emma makes sure to play up her confusion. “And… what? It was a great dinner, might even go back if I ever have a date, and then I went home. Honestly, what did you expect to happen, David?”

Even through the phone, she can almost hear him audibly deflate. Something like a sigh, or perhaps the sound of his entire plan collapsing in on itself. Personally, Emma thinks it’s hilarious.

(It’s especially funny when she vividly remembers the way Killian had stripped her out of that dress, can still feel the scratch of his beard on her inner thighs.)

(But again - those are things that David doesn’t need to know.)

———

The set-ups multiply like rabbits, and Emma starts to notice her and Killian being forced into more and more situations together, just the two of them. Fuck only knows why they think these clumsy attempts will work; after all, Emma and Killian held out for 8 years of each other’s company before finally getting together (without anyone’s help, she might add). Still, 

Trivia night is a weekly tradition for them all, down at the Rabbit Hole. Some weeks, the turnout is good; sometimes, not so much. They usually meet up at someone’s house and carpool from there because there’s not a ton of parking spots outside the bar, and it’s always worked well - two, maybe three cars instead of a half dozen or more. It’s a good time, and Emma always finds herself looking forward to Thursdays. 

Tonight, they’ve met at Robin’s, Killian’s former roommate. It’s a good crowd tonight, too - Robin and his fiance Marian, Mary Margaret with David, Belle the librarian, Ruby and Mulan, even Graham and Lance and Tink. The gang’s all here, probably trying to let loose a bit before holiday obligations set in, and they’re raring to go - all twelve of them.

Emma hopes that it’s not planned - that there just happen to be two cars and then some worth of people here - but it’s more likely planned. Robin probably twisted their arms to come, just for this.

“Emma, would you mind checking the door one more time?” he calls as they congregate in the driveway. “I’m sure I locked it, but I’ve just got that niggling little feeling…”

“Sure, no problem.” And it isn’t - it’s checking the damn door. Except it’s actually winding down his stupidly picturesque front garden path to the front door, and then having to maneuver around the always-unlocked outer glass door to make sure that the real door is locked, and then maneuvering and winding and everything back… and by the time Emma makes it back, everyone’s already piled into Mary Margaret’s station wagon and Robin’s little SUV, even the middle seats everyone usually hates, leaving just the conniving man himself and Killian standing on the asphalt. 

“Sorry, looks like the two of you will be riding together,” Robin says, not seeming remotely sorry. “This is convenient anyways! I know how much time you two spend together, if you decide that it’s easier to crash together afterwards… it wouldn’t be a problem for the extra car to stay here overnight.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t be,” Emma grumbles. “I don’t suppose you have any underlying motive here, do you Robin? Say, to the tune of six hundred dollars?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he responds cheerily. “I just really, really want you to know that you can keep your options open. And, you know, other euphemistic things if the urge moves you.”

Asshole.

(Emma does not leave her car at Robin’s overnight - but that doesn’t stop Killian from meeting her at her place afterwards.

“This euphemistic enough for you, love?” he teases as Emma pulls at his shirt, trying to tug the cotton tee over his head.

“How’s this for a euphemism: fuck me.”

“That’s not exactly how that word works, Swan.”

“I could not possibly give fewer shits about semantics than I do right now, Killian, unless it somehow relates to you getting your pants off.”

Somehow, even in the midst of their frantic stripping, he manages to laugh. “As you wish.”

She’s always preferred straight talking anyways.)

———

“Thank god I found you both!” Mary Margaret declares, bursting into Emma’s office a little too dramatically for her tastes. Until now, she and Killian had been having a wonderful lunch together, but that’s obviously a thing of the past now. 

“That seems a little extreme for a Friday,” Killian comments mildly as he sets his cafeteria burger back down on the styrofoam tray. Personally, Emma thinks the cafeteria food is disgusting, but Killian’s got a real fondness for the cheeseburgers, and especially the french fries. No one’s perfect, she guesses. “What terrible impending tragedy can Emma or I save you from, Mary Margaret?”

“Kathryn’s father is in the hospital, so she and Fred can’t work their assigned booth at the Winter Carnival tomorrow.” Storybrooke County School District’s charity carnival is a tradition every winter - one Mary Margaret takes very seriously. Something that’s clearly about to come back and bite them all in the ass. “Would you two be able to cover tomorrow? You’d be doing me such a huge favor…”

Killian raises a single eyebrow as he turns to meet Emma’s eye - that eyebrow that always seems like a dare. “My schedule’s clear this weekend. Count me in. What do you say, Swan, think you can find room in your schedule to save Mary Margaret from the tragedy of all tragedies?”

Emma rolls her eyes at the way he’s putting it on thick, but truth be told, her only plans had been spending the day with Killian. Might as well. “Sure, what the hell,” she says, reaching for another bite of her microwave pizza. “I don’t have anything else going on.”

In retrospect, Emma realizes that Mary Margaret could have done something terrible with this - assigned them to the kissing booth or something. God, she hopes that there’s not a kissing booth at a middle school carnival, but it feels like just the kind of thing she’d pull. Thankfully, they’re set up at the ring toss game. It’s not strenuous in the least; they don’t even have to take money, just paper tickets. Really, the only questionable thing is that they’re crammed right together in the box formed between the booth walls and the counter and the table of bottles behind them. Maybe that’s something that would have bothered her a few weeks ago, back when they were Emma and Killian but not Emma and Killian. Now, it’s just an excuse to get right up in his space and enjoy all those little touches, right under everyone’s nose.

(Maybe, every time they have to duck under the counter to retrieve poorly-thrown rings, Killian takes the opportunity to steal a quick kiss while no one else can see. And maybe - just maybe - Emma uses those same opportunities to steal her own kisses right back.)

“Soooooo, how’s it going?” Mary Margaret chirps when she pops up out of nowhere mid-afternoon. It’s like she thinks she’ll find them making out in the middle of the carnival or something. Which… fair. The urge is there. But they’re professionals - and Emma wants that money, dammit. She’s not caving here.

“Just fine, Mare,” Emma replies. “Nothing worth reporting.”

“There’s not? You two are looking awfully cozy in there… nothing to report?”

“Well, you’re the one who set up the booths, so…”

“Aye, just making the best of it,” Killian helpfully adds.

Emma almost feels guilty about the way that Mary Margaret visibly deflates.

“You know this was another ridiculous set-up, right, love?” Killian asks once their friend has walked away. “She probably never even needed our help. It was all a ploy.”

“I see it now,” Emma sighs. “I had just weirdly hoped she’d be above all that bullshit.”

Killian quirks that eyebrow yet again. “Mary Margaret? Infamous meddler? Of course not. It’s cute that you thought that though, darling.”

“Oh, shut up.”

(“Mary Margaret told me to take the weekend off, that they’d over-scheduled,” Kathryn tells Emma later when she tries to ask how the other woman’s father is doing. “Was that not the case?”)

(Fucking figures.)

———

Ruby, frankly, is not a surprise. In fact, if there was one person Emma would figure would be pulling this bullshit, it’s Ruby. The girl’s too competitive for her own damn good - not to mention that mile-wide chaotic streak running through her soul.

“Pucker up!” she crows, thrusting what Emma assumes is a sprig of mistletoe over her and Killian’s heads. They’re at Ruby and Mulan’s place for… some party; it’s probably, maybe holiday themed, but Ruby’s never needed an excuse to throw a party. Anything to get them all drunk and laughing and forgetting about the stresses of the week.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma demands. “Ruby, don’t be stupid. This isn’t college anymore.”

“Oh, like we ever did this in college,” Ruby scoffs with that devious twinkle in her eye. “Besides, college shenanigans are a state of mind. And I’m not giving that up. Now c’mon, no weaseling out of this.”

“It is the rules,” Mulan points out, appearing to slip her arm around Ruby’s waist and drop an affectionate - if slightly tipsy - kiss on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you hear that? Smart half says it’s the rules. So go ahead and pucker up and kiss him. And then go make out for a while and maybe bone each other so I can win the pool.”

Killian blushes a little bit at the phrasing - something that’s surprisingly cute on him, knowing how often he usually tosses around the innuendoes and exactly how dirty a mouth he has when they’re alone. Before Emma knows what he’s doing, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, and then another, smacking one for good measure. “Who are we to deny the great, determined Ruby Lucas?” he proclaims grandly. “One kiss: delivered.”

Ruby’s face gets a bit mutinous; it’s the only word for that particular storm cloud, really. “No it isn’t! That’s cheating!”

“Eh. Technically, it was a kiss.” God bless Mulan for being the only one willing to go against Ruby when she’s got a plan; perks of being the girlfriend, Emma supposes. 

“And more importantly, Rubes, that’s all you’re going to get from us.” And that’s Emma’s last word on the subject.

(“Happy Christmas, darling,” Killian whispers into her neck later once they’re back at her place, dangling his own sprig of mistletoe over their heads. “How about it? C’mon, give us a kiss.”

Emma is more than happy to comply.)

———

Emma wouldn’t say it’s common for her to get calls from the school librarian, Belle, but it’s not unusual either. So when Belle calls her up in mid-December, shortly before Christmas break, Emma doesn’t think twice about it.

“The new Scholastic catalogs are here,” Belle informs her. “I haven’t started sending them to classrooms yet, but if you want to take a look now…”

“I’ll be right there.” Yes, the catalogs are full of books for middle school students, but Emma still loves those things. They’re chock-full of nostalgia.

“I haven’t even taken them out of the box yet,” Belle explains when Emma meets her at the check-out desk. “They’re all still in the back room. Here, I’ll let you in.”

That should have been Emma’s clue here. Why would a box of new catalogs, just arrived in the mail, already be shoved into the storage closet? But Emma’s too excited about the prospect of those newsprint magazines to think about it. By the time Emma realizes there’s nothing in this little closet but printer paper and old yearbooks… Belle’s already closed and locked the door, trapping Emma inside. 

So it’s yet another set up, most likely. It’s a good thing she’s not claustrophobic, at least.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Emma can hear Killian’s voice outside the door. 

“How many boxes did you say it was, Belle? I’m happy to help haul, but I’m just wondering if we should get a hand cart to assist.”

“Oh no, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Belle’s voice responds. “Just a few trips for each of us. Right in here…”

And suddenly, Killian’s in the cramped little closet too, and the door is shut and latched behind them. Gee, what a surprise.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emma comments dryly. Somehow, probably on some kind of ridiculous romantic instinct, Killian’s hands have already found their way to her hips. It’s nice, really, ignoring the circumstances.

His face is adorably confused, looking around the room and back to the door and then to Emma’s own face and all over again. “Did she just lock us in here?”

“Yeah, keep up, Jones,” Emma teases. “I assume another stupid set-up effort.”

That makes the confusion disperse alright, a smirk full of promise creeping across his face instead. “If that’s the case… we’ll just have to make the most of it.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she warns. “There’s a camera in here.”

“So? It’s not like she’s watching the monitors.”

“So, Belle recently started dating Will Scarlet in IT. You want to take the chance she locked us in here, and forgot to have her boyfriend monitor us?”

“Fuck,” Killian swears, dropping his head back in dramatic emphasis. “They’re really going overboard, aren’t they?”

“I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”

Thirty minutes later, when Emma and Killian have done nothing but talk and try to find some little extra space in the crowded closet, Belle finally lets them out, just in time for the end of Killian’s free period.

“I’m sure you have no idea how that happened,” he comments, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“It’s just the weirdest thing,” Belle agrees.

Well, that’s one way of putting it.

(Emma makes it up to him, several times over, at her place that night, with a take-out pizza to boot.)

———

After what feels like an eternity, it’s finally here: New Year’s Eve. As long as they make it to midnight and the new year proper without anyone finding out, this whole ridiculous farce is over, and they can be the couple they’ve technically already been since October. Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - but more than they had been before. 

They’d spent Christmas together - not that that was anything unusual. With everyone else going to visit family, the two of them often spend the day together, eating take-out Chinese and watching holiday movies. Killian’s got a brother back in England that he makes sure to call, and some years Liam will fly over, but Killian usually saves his visits for summer vacation, when he can stay in whatever little English hamlet his brother calls home for weeks at a time. There’s always something nice about spending the holidays together, just the two of them, but it was extra special this year. Who knew Emma was the kind of girl who wanted to trade kisses under the Christmas tree between swapping gifts?

(Killian, apparently - but then again, he’s always claimed to know her better than she knows herself.)

“Just a few more hours,” he murmurs against her neck, twining his arms about her waist from behind as Emma carefully brushes on mascara. “Few more hours, and then it’s all in the open.”

“Thank god for that, too. After all the PDA we’ve gotten from certain people all these years, I’m looking forward to rubbing it in their faces a bit.”

They carpool to Mary Margaret and David’s, just like they do every year. It’s routine, really; Emma always crashes at Killian’s after the annual New Year’s Eve party so that someone is there to help her with the hangover in the morning. Killian makes better hashbrowns than anyone she knows - even Granny - and they always manage to pull her out of the worst of her misery. He’s good about taking care of her, too, with water and Advil and making sure to shut all the shades as tightly as possible. They even share a bed a lot of years; it’s just that tonight, Emma knows there will be a lot fewer clothes involved.

They drink. They eat. They mingle. Sometimes, they’re together, carefully not touching, and sometimes they drift apart. That’s how this party usually works, after all - and Emma is nothing if not committed to seeing this entire thing through, pretending nothing is different this year, that she and Killian definitely aren’t together. Nothing to see here, folks.

God, she’s so fucking lucky he didn’t cut and run once it became obvious just how much of a competitive lunatic Emma is.

Finally, though, it’s the moment - less than a minute left. Killian is already waiting for her by the patio doors, just like he promised. Emma is only too happy to wind her way over there, grinning when she finally finds herself in front of her boyfriend - about to be secret no longer. Behind them, the assembled drunken crowd loudly counts down the last seconds of the year. They keep their hands determinedly to themselves - just as agreed, so no one can try and claim anything happened before the strike of the new year - but Killian still looks at her with that twinkle in his eyes and wiggling eyebrows. It’s anticipation, and excitement, and a good bit of joy - knowing that soon, this will all be out in the open. No more keeping their hands to themselves. 

“You ready for this, love?” he says just loud enough for her to hear as the clock hits ten seconds. 

“Hell yeah,” she grins back - because she is. She so is. This has been a long time coming - years in the making, really - and you know what? The whole secrecy may have helped her wrap her head around the whole thing, as well as win her the pot, but she’s ready to take it public. Maybe rub it in everyone’s faces just how happy she is and how she did this on her own schedule. Why the hell not?

Cheers erupt all around them, and Emma’s grin stretches to something that almost hurts her face. Killian looks much the same. “Happy New Year, love,” he says, finally pulling her towards him by the hips. “I think it’ll be our best one yet.”

Fireworks are going on outside, lighting up the snow on the ground, but Emma can’t be bothered to pay attention - not when Killian attacks her lips with purpose, grinning happily into the kiss before she insistently deepens it, slipping her tongue into his mouth to play. It’s just another in a series of kisses, they know - but it’s more than that. It’s a display, in the best way, declaring them them.

Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A pair, a unit, a couple. 

“HA!” shrieks someone across the room as their make-out finally gains attention. Emma thinks it might be Ruby - though, at this point, it might be Mary Margaret. Maybe both. It’s definitely Ruby who materializes just as Emma and Killian finally break apart with a laugh. “It’s about fucking time!”

“Yeah,” Emma agrees - something that seems to short-circuit Ruby’s brain for a moment, if that look on her face is anything to go by. “It really was. And you know what else?”

Ruby shakes her head mutely, that twist of her eyebrows demonstrating that she’s still trying to get her bearings about what the fuck is happening here.

“It’s the new year. That pot is mine.”

“That’s my girl,” Killian whispers in her ear.

Best. New Year’s. Ever.

———

On January 1st of the new year, Emma and Killian - Killian and Emma - they, them, a pair, a unit, a couple take their six hundred dollars in winnings and treat themselves to a goddamn massive lunch at Granny’s. Together. In public. Because they deserve it. 

Grilled cheese has never tasted so good to Emma - especially the crumbs off the corners of Killian’s lips. 

[rpf-bat]

Rocking Out Just For The Dead

Pairing: Frank Iero x Male!Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama

Summary: Requested by @kpopchangedmylifesstuff. You’re playing Download Festival 2007 with your band, Paramore. My Chemical Romance are headlining the festival. After your set, Frank invites you onto his tour bus, for a friendly battle of Guitar Hero 2. But, when the hanging out turns into something more, your bandmate, Josh Farro, threatens to destroy whatever you and Frank have. 

You found yourself in Donington, England, playing your band’s brand new single, “Misery Business.” Okay - technically, Paramore wasn’t your band. You’d had no part in composing their new album, which would be dropping at the end of the week. But, their rhythm guitarist, Hunter, had recently quit, to go get married. Your longtime friend, Hayley, had called you up, and asked you to fill in for him, and you had jumped at the chance. 

You had done this once before. Paramore’s bassist, Jeremy, had randomly quit in 2005 - right before the start of Warped Tour. You weren’t sure what had caused him to leave, but you played bass and guitar equally well, so Hayley had asked you to join her and the Farro brothers on tour. You had the time of your life that summer. You had been eighteen then, and had felt more than a little star-struck, when you met people in “bigger” bands. 

Now twenty, you thought yourself older and wiser.  You were determined to be a professional this time around. No petty fights with your bandmates. No acting like a fanboy around the guys playing the Main Stage. Download Festival - the final stop on their Europe tour - was going to go off without a hitch, dammit!

Jeremy, now back in the band, stood to the left of you on the stage. Josh, the guitarist, was on your right. You tried your best to keep your guitar playing in sync with them, as Hayley belted out the final chorus:

Whoa, I never meant to brag

But I got him where I want him now.

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now.

But God does it feel so good,

'Cause I got him where I want him now.

And if you could then you know you would.

'Cause God it just feels so...

It just feels so good…

Zach played the final drum beat, bringing the song to a close. The crowd cheered. You took Hayley’s hand, and took a bow. She grinned at you, before addressing the crowd.

“THANK YOU, DONINGTON!” she bellowed into the mic. “YOU’VE BEEN AN AMAZING CROWD! GOOD NIGHT!” 

“It’s not really ‘night’ yet, you know,” you laughed, as you and the rest of the band walked off the stage. The sun hadn’t even set yet. 

“Yeah, I know,” Hayley sighed. “They put us on this super early time slot.” 

“Because nobody knows who we are,” Josh pointed out. 

“Yeah, the headliners get the later time slots, because they’re more famous,” Jeremy nodded. 

“Well, I think the crowd loved us,” Zach smiled optimistically. 

“He’s right,” you agreed. “Hal, I think you really killed it out there!”

“Thanks,” your friend smiled, brushing her sweat-soaked orange hair out of her eyes. “I really appreciate you coming on this tour with us, Y/N. I know it was really short notice.” 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you smiled back. 

“I thought your guitar playing was great tonight, man,” Jeremy complimented you. “A perfect grand finale.” 

“Thanks, dude,” you beamed, as you grabbed a water bottle. These summer shows were way too humid. 

“I don’t know about that,” Josh mumbled, as he wiped his face with a towel. 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” you frowned, setting your water bottle down. 

“I thought your timing was off during ‘Emergency’,” Josh said critically. 

“Oh….I’m sorry,” you frowned. “I tried to keep up with you…..”

“You should’ve tried harder,” Josh snapped, walking away from you, back towards the bus. 

Wow, you blinked. What’s his deal? 

The elder Farro brother had been needlessly rude to you, since the tour began. You honestly had no idea what you had done to get under his skin. But, you knew better, than to pick a fight with him. Zach was his brother, and Hayley was his girlfriend. You were just an outsider - a temporary, touring member of the band. 

“Are you coming back to the bus with us, dude?” Zach asked, snapping you out of the thoughts you had gotten lost in. 

“.....Nah,” you shook your head. “I think I’m gonna, um, walk around for a bit.” 

“Oh,” Hayley frowned. “Okay. See you later, Y/N.” 

You were pretty sure that she hadn’t heard what Josh had said. You saw no reason to tell her. It would just be starting drama. 

She seemed oblivious to a lot of the tension between you and Josh. He was always on his best behavior, when he knew she was paying attention. But, if it came down to it, you doubted she would side with her guy friend, over her boyfriend. 

It doesn’t even matter, you told yourself. This is the last show of the tour. On Monday, I’ll be heading home to Nashville. He won’t be my problem anymore.

You began wandering aimlessly around the festival grounds, with no real destination in mind. 

‘Hey!” a voice called out to you. 

You looked up, and saw a face you recognized - Frank Iero. 

You had met him on Warped Tour, two years ago. His band, My Chemical Romance, had been headliners, playing the main stage. Tonight, they were headlining this festival, too. His band had gotten even more famous after the release of The Black Parade.

“Hey!” you greeted. 

“Remember me?” Frank grinned. “I know it’s been a while.” 

“How could I forget?” you chuckled. Your heart had been racing the first time you met him backstage, but he had just shook hands with you, like the difference between your bands, was no big deal. You’d had to remind yourself that you were there to play a gig, not ask for an autograph. 

 “How have you been, Frank?”, you asked, trying to play it cool. 

“I’ve been good, Y/N,” Frank smiled. “How about you?”

Oh my god, you gulped. He remembers my name. 

“I-I’ve been great,” you stammered, hoping he couldn’t tell you were blushing. 

“I watched your set earlier,” Frank said cheerfully. “You were really good, dude.” 

“I-I was?!” you gasped. “You don’t think I was playing too slow, or….?”

“Huh?” Frank blinked, confused. “No, you were amazing, bro.  Your whole band was.” 

Ha, you thought. Suck it, Josh. 

“Thank you,” you said politely. “I’m probably going to go check out your band’s set, later, too.” 

“We’ve still got a couple hours before we go onstage,” Frank shrugged. “Since your band already played, you’re free for the rest of the day, right?” 

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, willing yourself to stop thinking gay thoughts about his new haircut. How did he get even better-looking after Revenge era? This is not even fair. 

“We have a PlayStation on our bus,” Frank revealed. “I was wondering if you’d like to play some video games with Mikey and I, for a little while?”

“Oh, sure!” you accepted his offer, trying not to sound too eager. You remembered playing a Donkey Kong bongos game with Mikey a couple years back. You’d lost pretty quickly, and he’d gone to find Zach, hoping that the drummer of the group would give him more of a challenge. You were determined to look less lame this time.  

You followed Frank to My Chemical Romance’s tour bus. He opened the door for you, and you followed him in. Mikey sat on the couch, holding a game controller. 

“Hey, Mikey,” Frank greeted. “You remember Y/N, right? From Paramore?” 

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” Mikey smiled. “Long time, no see, man!” 

“No kidding,” you laughed. “How have you been, dude?” 

“Pretty good,” Mikey replied. “The new record’s doing pretty well.” 

This was perhaps the understatement of the year. The Black Parade had sold more copies in its first week, than Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, had sold in two years. You weren’t sure if your own band would ever have that level of success. 

“I bought a copy,” you confessed. “The day it came out.”

“Aw, thanks, bro, we appreciate the support,” Mikey smiled, sounding shockingly humble. 

“When’s the new Paramore record coming out?’ Frank asked. 

“June 12th,” you replied. 

“Oh, wow, so in four days,” Frank realized. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But, um, I didn’t help compose it.” You were just a touring member - not a full part of the band, as he was in his. 

“I’m still gonna buy it,” Frank shrugged. 

“Thanks,” you said awkwardly.

“So,” Mikey cleared his throat, “you’re gonna play Guitar Hero 2 with us, right, Y/N?” 

“He just finished playing half an hour of guitar onstage,” Frank laughed. “You think he wants to play more?”

“I don’t mind sharpening my skills some more,” you shrugged. 

“Whoa, you’re dedicated,” Mikey said, impressed. 

Nah, you thought. I just wanna prove that Josh is wrong about my playing being shitty. 

“Here,” Frank said, handing you the guitar-shaped controller. He pulled up the game menu, with the full list of songs. “We can do any track you want.” 

“You’re going to play against me, in two-player mode?” you realized. 

“Yeah,” Frank smirked. “What’s the matter? You scared of a little challenge?” 

“No way,” you smiled slyly. “I bet I can take you.” 

“Oh, wanna bet?” Frank raised an eyebrow. “Name the song. I’ll show you what I’ve got.” 

“How about this one?” you decided, making a selection on the screen. 

“Um, Y/N…..” Mikey’s eyes widened. “That’s ‘Dead’.” 

“So what?” you smirked. 

“So, that’s our song,” Mikey pointed out.

“I know what it is,” you said certainly. 

“Wait, Y/N, are you serious?” Frank stared, mouth open in shock. “Of all the songs in the game, you want to challenge me with that one? The one I fucking wrote?” 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, staring boldly into his hazel eyes. “You scared I’ll beat you at your own game?” 

“As if,” Frank snorted. “I’ll tell you what, Y/N. If you can actually play ‘Dead’, better than the guy who plays it for a living, I’ll give you one of my fuckin’ guitars.” 

“Seriously?” Mikey gaped. “You’d give one of those away?” 

“He’s not gonna win, dude,” Frank said, with an air of certainty. 

“You wanna bet?” you challenged. 

“Okay, it’s a bet,” Frank decided. 

“If I lose, you can have my guitar,” you wagered. Unlike him, you only had one. But, the tour was over, you considered. It wasn’t like you were going to need it again in the immediate future. 

“It’s a deal,” Frank nodded, extending his hand to you. You shook on it. 

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Mikey said warily, as he handed Frank the second controller. 

“What level do you want to play on?” Frank asked. 

“Expert, of course,” you grinned. “We’re professionals.” 

“Alright,” Frank grinned. “Just don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“You’ll be the one crying when you have to give up your guitar, Iero,” you bantered, feeling cocky. You played Guitar Hero with Jeremy and Josh all the time, and you never lost. It always seemed to drive Josh fucking crazy. 

He hit START, and an animated guitarist in a top hat waddled onto the screen. You heard Gerard’s vocals begin the song with a scream. 

And if your heart stops beating

I'll be here wondering

Did you get what you deserve?

The ending of your life

And if you get to heaven

I'll be here waiting, babe

Did you get what you deserve?

You focused on the fret buttons on your controller. Your Rock Meter started at yellow, but the dial quickly went up to green. You didn’t miss any notes, but, of course, neither did Frank. 

And if your life won’t wait, then your heart can’t take this….

You glanced at Frank. He waggled his eyes at you suggestively. You reddened. If he was trying to throw you off your game, he was succeeding. You told yourself sternly to focus. Then, the chorus kicked in. 

Have you heard the news that you're dead?

No one ever had much nice to say

I think they never liked you anyway

Oh, take me from the hospital bed

Wouldn't it be grand? It ain't exactly what you planned

And wouldn't it be great if we were dead?

“Fuck!” you swore. You’d forgotten how fast this part was. Frank’s fingers were, of course, dancing over the “strings” with no problem. You knew you had to catch up to him. 

You noticed your Star Power meter was almost full, so you waited for just the right moment. 

Tongue-tied and, oh, so squeamish

You never fell in love

Did you get what you deserve?

The ending of your life

And if you get to heaven

I'll be here waiting, babe

Did you get what you deserve?

Just before the second chorus kicked in, you titled the neck of your guitar upwards, activating your Star Power. This meant you would get a quadruple bonus for whatever points you earned. You gave it your all on the chorus, and watched your score go up and up. 

“Whoa!” Frank gasped, seemingly thrown off. To your surprise, he missed a note. 

“Oh, man,” Mikey groaned, from his spectator spot on the couch. 

It was still a pretty close match, when you got to the bridge. But, by the time you got to the outro, Frank seemed to be sweating. As Gerard’s prerecorded voice sang his final “la-la-la”s, the outcome became certain to you. 

If life ain’t just a joke, then, why am I dead?

Oh, dead!

PLAYER ONE WINS!, read the screen, in bright, flashing letters. You realized, panting, that you were player one. 

“I….I did it?” you gasped. 

“Holy shit,” Frank gasped, dropping his controller in shock. “He actually won.” 

He sank down onto the couch, like he couldn’t believe it. 

“Are you….mad?” you frowned, wondering if you should have talked less trash. 

“No, that was amazing!” Frank praised you. “I wasn’t expecting that at all.” 

Despite your bravado, you hadn’t really been expecting to win, either. Whatever confidence you’d lost when Josh critiqued you, had been regained tenfold. Mikey gave you a slow clap. 

“Well, a bet’s a bet,” Frank said finally, standing up, and walking to the other end of the bus. 

“Where are you going?” you blinked. 

“Getting this for you,” Frank smiled, handing you a gorgeous, white Epiphone guitar.

“Frank, you don’t have to….” you gasped. 

“No, I’m a man of my word,” Frank insisted. “I’ll even help you carry it back to your bus.” 

“You serious?” you asked, incredulous. 

“Hey, man, you earned it,” Frank shrugged. He put the guitar in its case, and then put the case on his back. “Let’s go.” 

“Thanks for hanging out with us, Y/N,” Mikey waved. “That showdown was pretty fun to watch.” 

“See ya, Mikey,” you waved back. “Thanks for having me.” 

You still couldn’t believe this had happened. They seemed so much cooler than you.

Frank was quiet at first, as you walked back to the Paramore bus. You felt awkward, unsure what to say to him. 

“So,” he asked, “do you think that your bandmates are gonna be impressed, when they see the guitar you won?” 

“I’m sure Hayley will,” you replied. “Josh….maybe not.”

“Why not?” Frank asked. “He’s the lead guitarist of your band. Wouldn’t that make him more impressed?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I feel like he’s never impressed with anything I do.” 

“What’s his beef with you?” Frank asked, looking annoyed on your behalf. 

“I’m not sure,” you confessed. “Maybe it’s because he’s super Christian.”

“And you’re…..not Christian?” Frank guessed. 

“And I’m gay,” you confessed. 

“.....Oh.” Frank stopped in his tracks for a minute, seemingly taken aback by this. 

Your face went red. Fuck. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that out loud. 

“Do you, umm…..do you mind that?” you asked nervously. 

“Pfft,” Frank scoffed. “Dude. You think I ‘mind’ gay guys? Have you missed the part, where I’ve spent half this tour, making out with Gerard, in front of thousands of people?” 

“Are you and Gerard…..together?” you asked uncertainly. 

“Oh, no,” Frank shook his head quickly. “I’m totally single.” 

Your heart began to beat more quickly, as you noticed he said I’m single - not I’m straight. Were you reading him wrong? You wondered if you had the balls to make a move. 

This is the last night of the tour, you told yourself. If I don’t say something right now, I won’t get another chance. 

“Frank….”, you said, taking a deep breath, and telling yourself to man up. “I, um, I think you’re really cute.” 

“Really?” Frank said, stepping closer to you. You felt the hot metal door of the bus against your back. “Y/N, I think you’re pretty cute, too.” 

“Y-you do?” you breathed, your cheeks going hot as he leaned in. Was this real life? Or had the June heat made you start hallucinating?

“I do,” Frank smirked. “How about you give me my guitar back, and I give you a kiss instead?”

“Sounds like we have a deal,” you purred, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a kiss hotter than the summer sun. He responded, eagerly, pressing you harder up against the door as his tongue found its way into your mouth. You moaned….

But, just then, you were launched violently forward, as the door swung open behind you. You and Frank hit the ground, as Josh came storming out of the bus. 

“You guys are disgusting!” he growled. 

“Dude, what’s your problem?!” Frank demanded, getting up, and brushing the dirt off his pants. He gave you his hand, and helped you up out of the grass. 

“My problem is the display of perversion, that you two are putting on, in front of God and everybody!” Josh cried. “Do you have to do that in front of my bus?!” 

“You think we’re perverts?” you gasped, shocked and hurt by his words. 

“All gay men are perverts,” Josh sneered. “What kind of image are you setting for the band? A lot of our fans are Christian. They won’t buy our new record, if they see you behaving like this, Y/N!” 

“Not every Christian is a homophobic piece of shit like you,” Frank snapped, putting himself between you and the irate guitarist. 

“What did you just call me, you nancy boy?!” Josh hissed, and threw a punch in Frank’s direction. 

Frank caught the punch in his hand. “I called you a piece of shit!” he repeated, before throwing a punch of his own. Unlike Josh’s, it connected, sending your homophobic bandmate down into the dirt. 

“You’re gonna pay for that, Iero!” Josh yelled, wiping the blood from his nose. He tried to get up, but never made it off the ground, as Frank kicked him in the ribs. 

“Frank, stop!” you cried. “That’s enough!” 

“No, it’s not!” Frank said angrily. “You said it yourself, right, Y/N? This guy has been being a dick to you all summer, just because of your sexuality! That’s bullshit!” 

He aimed another kick in Josh’s direction. You were surprised, how defensive Frank had become of you, despite knowing you for such a short time. 

“What the hell is going on here?!” cried a familiar voice. You turned, and saw Zach approaching the bus, with Hayley close behind him. 

“Hal and I leave for two seconds to go get snacks, and some asshole starts beating up my brother?!” Zach gasped. 

“Josh, oh my god, are you okay?” Hayley gasped, running over to check out her boyfriend’s nosebleed. 

“He’s not an asshole,” you explained. “Guys, this is Frank, from My Chemical Romance.” 

“I don’t care what band he’s from,” Zach said angrily. “Why is he kicking Josh?”  

“Because Josh called me a pervert,” you explained. 

“A pervert?” Hayley repeated. “Why would he say something like that?” 

“I said it, because this freak had his tongue down Y/N’s throat!” Josh explained. 

“Wait, what?” Hayley blinked. 

“We, um, yeah, we were kissing,” you admitted, embarrassed. 

“You, um…..you like to kiss guys?” Zach asked awkwardly. 

“Um, yeah,” you said, feeling uncomfortable. You had never come out to him. You knew he was a devout Christian, too, and had assumed he would hold the same views as his brother.

“That doesn’t make you a pervert,” Zach said, surprising you. 

“But, what will the fans think?!” Josh demanded. 

“Some of our fans are gay, too,” Hayley pointed out. “And there’s nothing wrong with it. I can’t believe you would call Y/N names, just for something like that.”

“Yeah, Josh, I’m really disappointed in you,” Zach frowned. You were stunned. You never expected him to take your side. 

“You don’t think that what he and Frank are doing is a sin?” Josh asked. 

“I think God loves everyone,” Zach said plainly. “And only He can judge Y/N. I’m not going to.” 

“You guys can’t be serious!” Josh gaped. 

“I’m seriously reconsidering your position in this band,” Hayley said, narrowing her eyes. “And in this relationship.” 

“What? Babe….come on,” Josh pleaded. “Y-you wouldn’t dump me, and fire me, just because of this stupid fruit…..”

“Call him a fruit one more time,” Frank snarled. “See what happens, pal.” 

“Frank, it’s okay,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I have my band on my side now, and that makes….all the difference.” 

You were touched by their support. You had stayed silent this whole time, because you didn’t think you would have it. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry that my brother treated you like this,” Zach said quietly. “I want you to know, I support you, and your boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you shook your head. “We just kissed for the first time today, and….” 

“I could be your boyfriend,” Frank said softly. “If you want me to.”

“Wait, what?” 

“Do you want me to?” Frank asked, smirking at you. 

“I….I’m supposed to be going home to Tennessee soon,” you hesitated. “And you live in New Jersey, so….”

“I’m in the most famous band in the world,” Frank said smugly. “I have a private jet that can take me wherever you are.” 

“......Oh,” you blushed. 

“So,” Frank repeated, leaning in closer again, “do you want me to be your boyfriend, Y/N?”

“....Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I do.”

You pulled him into another kiss, not caring that the rest of your band was watching. Or how much it pissed Josh off. The tour was ending, but your once-in-a-lifetime romance was just beginning. 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 2: Is This A Test?

Summary: Steve begins his life at Camp Lehigh, throwing himself into training alongside the other candidates for Operation Rebirth and is shocked when on his first day he comes face to face with someone he hadn’t been expecting to see again…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Some over the clothes making out (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Once again, huge thanks to my beta readers @southerngracela​ and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ 

Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

SSR Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist 

 At Camp Lehigh the new recruits were met by their Sergeant, who escorted them to their quarters. There it was explained to them that as they were part of the Strategic Science Reserve, this was a separate unit from the rest of the army training at the base, but more would become clear in an hour or so when they reported for exercise. They were then issued their standard uniform, which was awkward for Steve as even the smallest sizes felt like they drowned him but he shrugged it off reminding himself that he had finally done it. He was here, training to be a soldier.

He changed and then Sergeant Duffy appeared again, barking at them to fall in line and they followed him down to an exercise field at the rear of the barracks. Here they once more lined up, Steve taking his place in between 2 men whose names he couldn’t remember and they stood, waiting.

“Recruits, attention!”  A voice called and Steve felt his mouth drop open, because he knew the owner of said voice. “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Stark, this is Agent Carter.”  He turned to face Katie as she began walking down the line, dressed in a sharp army uniform with another woman at her side and a man behind them both clutching a box which contained clip files. As she reached Steve, Katie stopped and looked at him, giving him a bashful, almost apologetic smile as the other woman continued to walk.

And wait. Her surname was Stark? As in, Howard Stark? Was that her husband? Had he kissed a married woman? Fuck… he swallowed his worry down and averted his eyes as Katie passed down the line following Agent Carter, their eyes flicking to each man in turn.

“We supervise all operations for this division.” Agent Carter spoke in a strong British accent before she was interrupted.

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria?” a man down the line stated rather obnoxiously, causing Agent Carter to stop. Katie drew up alongside her, and Steve watched as, Katie’s hands fell to her hips and she studied the man who’d spoken out of line. “Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army!”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked.

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.”

At that the two women exchanged a glance and Agent Carter took a deep breath. “Step forward, Hodge.”

The man obliged, a smirk on his face as he looked around a little, no doubt to check everyone was watching.

“Put your right foot forward.” Agent Carter instructed.

“Mmm… we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Hodge spoke, before puckering his lips up in a kissing gesture.

Then, there was a flurry of movement and in a flash Katie was behind him, jerking his arm up his back. She aimed a sharp kick to the back of his knee causing Hodge to stumble to the floor. She went with him, her knee planted firmly in the base of his spine, arm twisting even more and he gave out a yell, “Okay, okay I yield.”

Steve gave a little huff of laughter, as did the man to his right as Katie stood up, not a hair out of place and smoothed down her jacket and skirt as Hodge rose to his feet. No sooner had he done that Agent Carter punched him hard, straight in the face.

And Steve laughed a little more this time, hastily straightening his face when he noticed a man, a Colonel according to the pips on his shoulders,  hopping out of jeep as he barked to the two agents.

“Agent Carter, Agent Stark.”

Both of them wheeled round, springing to attention, saluting.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“Sir.”

“I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” he nodded to the two women before he looked down at Hodge “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes and tells you what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Hodge scrambled to his feet and slotted back into the place he’d been stood previously, looking a little sheepish.

Steve watched as Colonel Phillips started to walk down the line, addressing the new army recruits.  “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” he paused a little at that point as he looked at Steve. Steve kept his face straight, looking directly ahead. He knew full well what the Colonel was thinking, but he was here to prove him wrong. “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers…”

Super-Soldiers? The end of the week? That was…5 days away!

“And they, will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell.”

Steve could hear a few murmurs down the line as some of the recruits began to exchange glances.

“Did I ask any of you to talk?” Phillips barked and silence fell once more. “The man we select will go through a procedure.” He continued “An experimental procedure that, if successful, will significantly enhance his physical stature, amplifying all his qualities and abilities. This is not something we take lightly. It is for this reason that you will be assessed not just on your current physical abilities but your mental capacity and it won’t be easy. So if any of you are having second thoughts…” he once more paused at Steve who, as before, ignored him “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one made a sound.

Whilst Steve didn’t have much time to think about Katie for the rest of the day as most of his energy was taken by keeping up with the afternoon’s exercise, he found himself with plenty of time to think about her over dinner. He kept himself to himself, taking a seat at the end of a large table in the mess hall, unable to prevent the sullen mood he found himself in.

He knew it was stupid, as he hardly knew the dame, but he felt betrayed, and if truth be told a little confused. Betrayed at the fact she’d kept her true identity and vocation from him, confused as to why she’d kissed him, especially if she was married and knew they’d end up working together. It confounded his original opinion that she’d done it out of some kind of obligation, a thank you if you will for him stepping in that day on the street. Not that he needed to step in, it was perfectly clear now she’d been able to handle herself.

He looked down at the tasteless bully beef and dumplings, before he sighed and continued to eat. Whilst he wasn’t particularly hungry he knew that he had to keep his strength up, especially if he wanted to have any chance to complete the training that was in store tomorrow. When he’d had his fill, he took the tray over to the clear down area and headed outside into the warm New Jersey evening.

It was still light, the birds in the trees singing their melodic evening chorus as Steve headed over the camp towards the sleeping barracks he and the other Project Rebirth candidates had been assigned to. He headed down the dirt path, hands in his baggy uniform pockets when he heard Katie shouting to him. Taking a deep breath, he stopped, and turned to face her, saluting.

“Agent Stark…”

“Woah, at ease, we ain’t on parade now!” she shook her head.

“Yes Ma’am” he dropped his arm but kept it firmly by his side, still standing to attention, focussing on a spot slightly behind her.”

“What’s with the Ma’am?” she frowned but Steve ignored her question. She frowned a little, cocking her head to one side “Are you angry at me?” Steve’s eyes flicked to hers for a second and he swallowed looking away causing her to sigh “Steve, look…”

“You lied to me.” He blurted out, his eyes returning to hers and she frowned.

“No, I just didn’t tell you my full story.” She shrugged, lamely.

“Where I come from that’s called lying.”

“Oh come on Steve, it’s not like you actually asked what I did for a living!”

“I asked if ya worked for Howard Stark.” He folded his arms “And you said you did.”

“Well, I do, sorta…”

“Oh, is that as well as sorta being married to him?”

“Married?” Katie’s eyes narrowed before they widened again and she grinned “What, you think…oh my God Steve!” she let out a laugh.

“You know, I’ve had my fill of people laughing at me today.” He rolled his eyes and turned to leave, an angry flush spreading up his neck.

“Howie’s my brother!”

“Your brother?” he stopped dead.  

“Yes, you know, same mom, same dad.”

Steve groaned, feeling like a total, total idiot and after a moment or two of cursing himself he turned back to face her, his face bashfully tinged red.

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” He spoke quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were related? Or what it is that you actually do.”

“Because I didn’t know I was supposed to.” she looked at him “Plus, I kinda liked not being Agent Katie Stark for a moment and just being, I dunno, some regular girl.”

Steve looked at her again before he glanced away, not quite sure what had come over him. He’d literally never had a conversation with a woman that lasted longer than a few minutes, if that, and here he was for the second time with her just rolling with it, and not just that, he was actually being a little rude. His ma would not be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, his manner contrite “I guess it was just a shock, that’s all.”

“Do you know how people usually react when I tell them what I actually do?” Katie sighed, shaking her head “Most guys run a mile.”

“Well, I’m not like most guys.” Steve instantly retorted, repeating the sentiment she had expressed to him mere days ago. She blinked a little, before she gave a huff of laughter and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Touche, Rogers. Touche.”

“Can I ask you something?” feeling emboldened he asked his question hastily, before he chickened out.

“Sure.” She nodded.

“Did you know? That I was gonna be here, I mean.”

“Not for certain.” Katie shook her head. “I had an idea when you told me it was a doctor from a Science Division that had recruited you but until I saw your name on the new-recruit roster this morning, I didn’t know for sure.”

“Right.” Steve nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Does it matter?” Katie frowned.

“Not especially.” He popped a shoulder “Just kinda figured that if you knew you’d be seeing me each day, you wouldn’t have…you know…”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah, that.” Steve felt the heat rise in his neck as he thought back to that moment. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous fashion “I mean I know you probably did it because you either felt kinda sorry for me or like you hadda thank me but this has gotta be awkward for you right? Seeing me every day as a reminder, but it’s not like I told anyone so-“

“Woah, woah, stop!” Katie shook her head, stepping towards him “Steve, I don’t care who you told. I’m not embarrassed if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not?”

“No!” Katie looked at him like he was stupid “I didn’t kiss you because I felt sorry for you or because I felt I owed you, I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” Steve looked at her, not quite sure if he believed her or not.

“Is that so hard to comprehend?”

“Frankly, yes!” he snorted “I mean, look at ya. You’re…” he gestured with his hand towards her “And I’m…”

“Well lucky for you I’m not a shallow bimbo then isn’t it?” She said, an air of annoyance in her tone. “I might be a Stark, and yes, I’m privileged but that means I’m expected to act a certain way with a certain type of man from a certain type of background. Maybe I just wanna act how I wanna act, with who I choose. And your assumption right then? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Katie, I didn’t-” But even by the time he’d finished half his sentence, she’d turned on her heel and left “-mean it like that.” He finished a little lamely, watching her go. His hands dropped to his bony hips and he glanced at the floor, toeing the dirt slightly before he looked up and around. God he felt so out of place, the one thing he’d wanted to do and now he was here he felt as small and as insignificant as he had ever felt. And to top it off, he’d just upset probably the one person he could have relied upon for support. But it was more than that. He felt guilty, guilty that he’d upset her and made assumptions about her, when he actually in all fairness knew nothing about her. He’d judged a book by its cover, which was what he hated everyone doing to him. With a final groan he turned and headed back towards the sleeping quarters, to unpack the small chest of belongings he’d brought with him.

If today was anything to go by, it was going to be a long week.

Long was an understatement.

By Monday morning,  Steve had done 5 different physical assault courses, various runs loaded with equipment, taken part in a number of logic puzzles, had a one on one interview with Colonel Phillips, completed written, arithmetic and geography tests and been subject to another medical examination.  He was now on a fuck knows how many miles drill run, being barked at once more by Sergeant Duffy.

“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go!” The drill Sergeant barked. Steve was running as fast as he could, but still lagged 10 or 15 yards behind the main formation of the group. His legs ached, his chest hurt but he was damned if he was giving up.

"Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!”  Sergeant Duffy instructed as they rounded the corner of the dirt path, drawing up behind a jeep which was parked by a flag pole surrounded by white rocks on the ground. “Squad, halt!”

Finally Steve could catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees as he inhaled deeply, watching the group of men as they gathered around their leader.

“That flag means we’re only at the halfway point.”

Half way? Great…just great.

“First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter. Move, move!”

Steve pushed his helmet back up his head, remaining where he was simply watching as the entire unit all tried to climb the pole. It was a free for all, men pushing each other out of the way, elbows flying, fists flailing. Steve however scanned the pole up and down, his brain logically thinking it through. There had to be a way to get that flag down without having to climb the pole, otherwise how did they put it up there in the first place?

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble!” Duffy snapped “Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there!”

Hodge, who had made it a few feet further than everyone else slid down to the ground and Duffy stood back, his arms folded, smirking a little. “Nobody’s got that flag in 17 years!” he shook his head “Now fall back into line! Come on, fall in!”

That signalled the end of the little pole exercise, but not for Steve. As everyone cleared away he walked towards it, glancing first at the bottom of the pole, then up to the top, squinting slightly against the sun. If he was right…

“Rogers! I said fall in!” Duffy barked, but Steve ignored him as he bent down and pulled the pin out at the bottom of the pole causing it to fall with a loud crash to the ground in a cloud of dust. He tossed the pin to the floor with a clang as everyone fell silent, watching as he removed the flag from the rope which held it to the pole. He handed it to Sergeant Duffy on his way past.

“Thank you, sir.” He said gently as he climbed into the back of the jeep. Agent Carter turned to face him from her seat in the front and he shot her a smile which she returned, an amused look spreading across her features.

Steve was damned glad of that ride home as, following lunch, they were subjected to another physical activity, this one a seemingly endless circuit training involving star jumps, push up, sit ups you name it.

“Faster, ladies!” Agent Carter barked, as they were all busy doing push ups “Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!”

A few more sets and she barked at them to get up, which they obeyed, springing to their feet just as Agent Stark arrived with Colonel Phillips and Dr Erskine. The three of them were clearly mid some debate, Katie looked a little annoyed and turned to Phillips snapping at him, her face flashing with anger. Erskine put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head gently and she rolled her eyes, turning away and looking in his direction. She locked eyes with Steve who watched her for a second, before Agent Carter’s voice hit his ears and he began the jumping jacks she had instructed them to partake in.

“Come on, girls.”

Steve had no idea how many he did, but he continued going, his arms and legs both spreading and then coming back together as he made jump after jump. He grit his teeth, powering through the burn he was feeling in his muscles, tossing his head out of the way slightly as his dog tags bounced off his chest after a particularly energetic leap, smacking him straight in the nose.

And then he heard it.

“GRENADE!”

All logic flew from Steve’s head and as the rest of the unit scattered he instinctively dived towards the explosive, covering it with his body, curling his knees into his chest in an attempt to minimise the impact to everyone round him.

“Get away!” he yelled, waving his arm as Agent Carter ran towards him “Get back!”

He remained curled in on himself, waiting and waiting but nothing happened. Eventually he looked up, to see everyone was slowly starting to go back to normal and he sat up, frowning a little, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.” someone said as Steve glanced first at Agent Carter then over to Phillips and Erskine and finally Agent Stark. As his eyes met hers a smile crossed her face and a flash of something that looked suspiciously like pride filled her pretty features.

“Is this is a test?” he asked as he sat on the floor, completely bemused at what had just happened.

Katie tore her eyes from his to turn to Dr Erskine who was also smiling and they both simultaneously moved their attention to Colonel Phillips. He shot them both a withering look as he spoke before he turned to walk away. As he passed Katie he stopped, pointed to Steve who was now getting to his feet and she nodded, saluting.

Erskine beamed at Steve before he turned to follow Phillips away, patting Katie’s shoulder as he left. Steve dusted himself down and then simply watched as Katie walked over to Agent Carter, his eyes following her every move. She whispered something to the other woman who raised her eyebrows, a soft smile crossing her face. Both women then looked at him, before Peggy gave Katie a curt nod as she called the remaining soldiers back into line.

“Private Rogers…” Katie spoke, her eyes soft as she glanced at him. “With me.”

“Ma’am.” He scrambled after her, tripping over his feet slightly as he hurried to catch up with her, glancing back at the line of men who were now being addressed by Agent Carter before she dismissed them all.

“What…where are the rest of the guys goin’?” he began to ask and Katie turned to look at him as he fell into step besides her, to her left.

“They’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve frowned.

“Yup.” Katie nodded as she led him across the training field and onto the gravel track. “They’ll be re-assigned to other units.”

“Other units?” Steve frowned, before her words finally registered “You mean…”

Katie stopped and turned to look at him, smiling as she brushed some of the dirt from his shoulder. “Congratulations Steve… you’re gonna become our first Super Soldier.”

Steve blinked, swallowed and then shook his head “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Katie shook her head “I can assure you this is deadly serious.” She took a deep breath and turned to walk down the track to her right.

“Why me?” Steve blurted out as they rounded a row of military jeeps

Katie smiled at him “The fact you’re even asking that should tell you everything you need to know. But if you really want the detailed answer, you should ask Abe.”

“Who?”

“Dr Erskine.”

“Okay, I will, where is he?” Steve looked round almost as if he expected the Doctor to appear form behind the munitions store they were passing.

“I suspect on his way to Brooklyn to meet Howie at the SSR lab.” Katie replied “He’ll be back later so you can talk to him then.”

“The lab’s in Brooklyn?” the surprise evident in Steve’s voice as Katie led him to one of the large green dome like structures that housed the offices “So that’s why you were there.”

Katie grinned “Not just a pretty face, are ya?” She stood still, snapping to attention and saluted to the guard on the door who immediately saluted back.

“Agent Stark” he greeted as he stepped to his right, opening the door for them both to step into. Steve followed behind her down a long corridor. They turned left at the end and Katie stopped outside a door to their right which held a name tag informing them that it was Colonel Phillips’ office.  She gave a sharp rap, and then without waiting for an answer opened the door and stepped in, Steve following.

The Colonel looked up as they entered the room, placing the pen he’d been writing with down on his desk.

“Shut the door.” Phillips barked and Steve scrambled to do as he was told before he drew himself up tall and saluted his superior “At ease Rogers.”

“Sir.” Steve nodded and relaxed as much as he could. At that point there was another knock on the door and he turned to see Agent Carter step inside.

“Ma’am.” Steve nodded to Peggy who smiled at him.

“So, I’m assuming Agent Stark has given you the low down?” Phillips spoke and Steve turned back to him, giving a nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, saves me a job.”

“When don’t I?” Katie quipped and Steve’s eyes widened at the fact she’d basically just sassed a superior officer. There was a moment’s pause before Phillips snorted.

“One of these days Agent Stark, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble.”

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

Phillips shot her another look which she met with a smirk and he scoffed a little, turning his attention to Steve. “So, Rogers, Dr Erskine has chosen you as the candidate to become our first Super Soldier.”

“It’s an honor, Sir.”

“Do you have any questions?” Peggy looked at Steve.

Steve pondered for a second. Truth be told he had a lot of questions, but the biggest one, the why, that was going to have to wait for Dr Erskine himself. He took a deep breath and looked up at the Agent before his eyes flicked to Colonel Phillips, and back again.

“What does the procedure actually entail?”

“Agent Stark, you wanna take this?” Phillips looked at her and she nodded.

“You’ll be injected with Erskine’s formula.” Katie looked at Steve “This will cause immediate change to your cells, your DNA. Then to stimulate the change and growth, you’ll be subjected to an intense permeation of Vita-Rays, in a chamber that my brother and Erskine developed especially.”

“Is it safe?” Steve asked.

Katie took a deep breath and shrugged “On the animal test subjects we’ve used, yeah but I’m not gonna lie to you Steve, other than a Nazi scientist named Johan Schmidt the serum hasn’t been tested on any human subject.”

“What happened to this Schmidt guy?” Steve asked and Katie looked at Phillips, then Peggy, and when she turned back to him he swallowed a little at the look of apprehension on her face.

“It didn’t go the way he planned, but that said the formula was incomplete. Erskine will be able to tell you more tomorrow.” She answered softly. Steve thought on her words for a moment, his eyes still locked onto hers as she licked her lips, offering him nothing but a shrug “In simple terms, we don’t know if it’s gonna work or not. So you need to think carefully.”

“When is it gonna happen?”

“The procedure will take place tomorrow morning.” Agent Carter spoke. “So you have little over 14 hours.”

“So despite what Agent Stark says…”  Phillips spoke, shooting Katie a look which she met with an equally annoyed one of her own, “There’s no time for contemplation.”

“There’s 14 hours…” Katie began to protest.

“Did I ask for your input?” Phillips snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

“No, you never do. Maybe if you did we-“

“If you want to remain part of this unit you’ll stop that sentence right there.” Phillips pointed at her. Katie’s mouth pressed into a thin line and she folded her arms, shaking her head as she looked away. Steve’s eyes turned back to Phillips who spoke “If you want out, now is the time to speak up so we can find someone else. Are you in, Rogers, because if you are, after this meeting and you leave this room, there’s no going back.”

“But I’ve only had like 5 days of basic training.” Steve frowned “Is that going to be enough?”

“We’re on a schedule.” Phillips shrugged, “It’s going to have to be.”

“Your basic training, or lack thereof, shouldn’t be a problem.” Peggy shook her head “Our intention is to continue to train you up fully so that you’re prepared to lead the others who we…convert.”

Steve took a deep breath and glanced once more at Katie, who was staring to her left, her jaw set. Was he in? He began to logically step through things in his head. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew full well that if he said no he’d be shipped off to another unit and likely sent home or shoved into some kind of non-combat role due to his current lack of physical abilities or strength. The serum might not work, but then what? He ended up deformed? Or dead? But if he was perfectly honest with himself, having had a taste of what it was like to do what he always wanted to, if the opportunity was taken away from him, he might as well be dead anyway.

It was a no brainer as far as he was concerned. He had to do this.

“I’m in.” Steve nodded, his voice loaded with conviction as he gave a firm nod.

To the side of him Katie took a deep breath, an action mimicked by Colonel Phillips, before the older man turned to Agent Carter who stepped to the side revealing a piece of paper on the desk.

“In that case then I need you to sign this.” Phillips said “It’s a form stating that you consent to the procedure. Just a formality that Stark is insisting on.”

“God forbid we do things properly.” Katie mumbled. Phillips shot her another withering glare before he waved a pen at Steve. Steve stepped forward, took the pen off him and glanced down at the form. His eyes scanned it and then, without further hesitation he scribbled his name on the space at the bottom.

“Congratulations Private Rogers.” Phillips nodded as Agent Carter moved to place the form in a filing cabinet at the back.

“So, now what do I do?” Steve asked.

“You can do what the hell you want within reason.” Phillips shrugged “But you can’t leave base, can’t risk anything happening to you. Not now.”

“By the time you get back to your barracks, everyone else will have packed up and left so I suggest you make the most of the peace and quiet.” Agent Carter smiled “Because you’re going to be pretty busy from Tomorrow onwards.”

Steve nodded to show he understood and then he was dismissed. Saluting to Phillips he turned to leave the room, followed by Katie who herself was leaving to see her brother.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat tonight?” she asked him as they left the building “And I don’t mean any of the shit they serve in the mess.”

Steve looked up “I suppose some of Mrs Tromley’s home made preserve is out of the question?”

“Leave it with me.” She smiled and Steve looked at her for a second before he took a deep breath.

“Look, Agent- Katie, I err, wanted to apologise for my outburst the other night. I was rude and…”

“It’s okay, I don’t hold a grudge.” She paused and turned to face him “Alright that’s a lie, I do. But only against people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?” Steve asked with a slight smile and she shrugged.

“For now, no. Plenty of time for me to change my mind though.” And with that, just as she had done at the expo she turned and left him standing there, tossing him a wink over her shoulder as she walked away.

Katie came through with the preserve, a small jar along with a crusty cob of bread was waiting in his bunk later that evening when he returned from the bathroom cabin. He ate sat on his bed, mulling everything over in his mind before he stood up and decided to go for a walk. He found a nice quiet spot hidden behind one of the munition sheds and sat to draw a while, a particularly gnarled old tree the target of his attention. When the light diminished too much for him to see properly, he headed back and dropped his sketchbook into his rucksack before he settled down with a book open on his lap.

For the next few hours he tried to read but none of it was really sinking in. He had butterflies in his stomach, not nerves as such, but apprehension, definitely, at what he was letting himself in for. As he re-read the same sentence he’d been looking at for the last 10 minutes, there was a knock at the door which made him jump slightly and he turned to look over his left shoulder as Dr Erskine stood in the doorway, a bottle and two glasses in his hand.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, closing the book as Erskine walked over the floor, placing the glass on the trunk at the end of Steve’s bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Erskine asked as he moved towards the bed opposite Steve.

“I got the jitters, I guess.” Steve shrugged.

Erskine laughed “Me, too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve dropped the book he had been reading down on the trunk next to the glass.

“Just one?” Erskine looked at Steve as he sat down facing him. Steve still had a lot of questions, but the one he wanted an answer to most was the one that flew out of his mouth.

“Why me?”

“I suppose that is the only question that matters.” Erskine said after a moment’s pause. He looked down at the bottle of schnapps he brought with him, turning the label so Steve could see it. “This is from Augsburg. My city. So many people forget that the first country that the Nazi’s invaded was their own.” He took a breath “You know, after the last war my people struggled. They felt weak. They felt small. And then Hitler comes along with the marching and the big show and the flags and the… and the… “ Erskine waved his hand as he took a deep breath, straightening his glasses “And he… he hears of me, my work and he finds me. And he says, ‘You’” Erskine pointed to emphasise his point “He says, ‘You will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shook his head as he placed the bottle on the floor between his feet, Steve’s eyes following his movements “So he sends the head of HYDRA, his research division. A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt.”

That name Steve recognised from before, the one Katie told him about. He watched as Erskine continued talking, once more pushing his glasses up his nose. “Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle and he’s ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power and Teutonic myth. Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, left here by the Gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man. So when he hears about my formula and what it can do, he cannot resist.” Erskine paused as Steve looked at him, understanding immediately he was referring to Schmidt taking the formula. “Schmidt must become that superior man.”

Remembering what Katie had said, about it not going according to plan he looked at Erskine. “Did it make him stronger?”

“Yeah. But, there were other effects.” Erskine conceded, but didn’t elaborate further. “The serum was not ready. But more important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside. So, good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.” He explained and Steve glanced down, taking all the information in “This is why you were chosen.”

At that Steve looked back up at him, his brow furrowing deeply as Erskine continued “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion.”

“Thanks.” Steve said, frowning slightly “I think.” He glanced at Erskine who smiled at him, and then waved in the direction of the two glasses on the trunk at the foot of the bed. As Steve took the glasses, pulling the top one out with his right hand, Erskine uncorked the schnapps and began to pour the liquid.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing.” Erskine said, corking the bottle one more and setting it down on the floor “That you will stay who you are.” Erskine took a glass off Steve and stared straight into his eyes, almost as if he was trying to drive the message home. “Not a perfect soldier, but a good-“ he pointed at Steve’s chest “- man.”

Steve took a deep breath, holding his glass up and he allowed that fleeting warmth of pride spread across his chest, just for a second, as he smiled “To the little guys.”

“Ha ha!” Erskine agreed, chinking his glass against Steve’s but just as Steve was about to take a drink Erskine suddenly spluttered.

“No! No! Wait! Wait! What I am doing?” he reached out, taking Steve’s glass off him “No! You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids.”

Seriously?

Steve watched as Erskine poured the contents of Steve’s glass into his own and sighed a little, he’d been looking forward to that.

“All right. We’ll drink it after.” He shrugged.

“No! I don’t have procedure tomorrow.” Erskine gestured towards himself “Drink it after? I drink it now.”

Steve gave a small smile as the doctor knocked back the clear liquid in the glass and was just about to speak to tease him a little about making sure he had a clear head for the morning, when there was another knock on the door. Steve’s head turned to look as Katie stepped inside the dorm, smiling.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at Erskine whose mouth curled up a little at one side in a knowing smirk.

“And that is my cue to leave.” He stood up. “I will see you in the morning Steven.”

He squeezed Steve’s shoulder as he strode past, the bottle of schnapps in his hand as Katie moved to allow him through the doorway. He smiled once more before he shut the door behind him leaving the pair of them in the dim light of the bare sleeping room. Steve looked at Katie, inhaling deeply as even in the simple combat trousers and plain khaki t-shirt she was wearing she still looked effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back off her face in a simple braid, and her skin was devoid of her usual make up, lips clear of their normal bright red paint. He realised with a slight swallow that this is what she’d look like at home, last thing at night and first thing in the morning…

He shifted a little on the side of his bed and watched as she walked over to take the spot Erskine had vacated.

“Are you supposed to be in here?” Steve finally spoke and she shrugged.

“Well, it probably wouldn’t be seen as appropriate if we were caught but…” She paused and gave a twitch of a smirk. “Steve, you’re gonna become a super soldier tomorrow, you can do what the hell you want!”

He inhaled a little sharply at her words as those inappropriate thoughts once more reared in his head and he felt his neck and cheeks grow warm.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” She smiled.

“Thanks?” he shook his head before he glanced up at her “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to see how you were.” She shrugged.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Why?” she looked at him, as if he’d just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. “Because I care about you Steve.”

“You care about me?” he repeated, the disbelief evident in his tone.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Of course I do.” Steve watched her for a moment, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of something a little less composed under her normally cool and confident exterior. She was biting her lip, her teeth worrying at her plump bottom one as her right hand gently pulled at the knuckles of her left.

“You’re nervous.” He spoke suddenly and her eyes locked onto his, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just…well, this is a huge thing, Steve. A culmination of years of work from not just the SSR but Stark Industries, and Erskine.” She looked at him and shook her head, giving a little snort. “God I know that sounds pathetic compared to what you must be feeling.”

“Well, I’m a little twitchy, that’s fo’ sure, but I’m not scared scared, does that make sense?” he asked and she looked at him, a smile twisting on her lips.

“That’s because you’re ridiculously brave.”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged and she laughed, shaking her head.

“That’s one word I really wouldn’t use to describe you. I heard about the flag.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled a little and she grinned.

“Peggy said it was the best thing she’d ever seen. No one’s rendered Sergeant Duffy speechless before but he was pretty impressed that night at briefing.”

“It was just logic” Steve flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m pretty good at using my head. You haff’ to be when you’re as small and as weak as I am.”

“Don’t.” Katie shook her head.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that. You’re not weak.”

At that Steve gave a snort. “Come on Doll, physically I’m a wreck. That’s one of the reasons Erskine picked me.” no sooner had he spoke, he realised what he’d said and his eyes widen at the involuntary use of the pet term but Katie merely laughed, arching her brow.

“Doll?”

“Sorry Ma’am.” He winced “Just slipped out.”

“I’m flattered.” She chuckled, before giving a sigh “But back to what you just said, about why Erskine picked you. It isn’t just because you’re physically weak. It’s because that serum amplifies everything about you Steve…”

“Yeah, good becomes great, bad becomes worse.” Steve repeated the words Erskine had spoken to him not five minutes ago.

“Exactly.” Katie looked at him. “Erskine could have chosen any one of the guys that were in here with you, but he didn’t. He saw something in you, something that none of the others had.” She bit her lip and grinned as she leaned back slightly on the bed “You’re a lion disguised as a lamb, Rogers.” “Oh, jeez…” he snorted shaking his head as she laughed “Now you sound like Bucky, that’s the kinda nonsense that jerk would come out with.”

At that Katie wrinkled her nose “In that case I take it back.”

“Thank you, now I feel great.” Steve retorted sarcastically and she laughed loudly, snorting as she did so. Her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth as Steve chuckled at her very un-lady like manner, his head falling forward as his own laughs rang out around the barracks. Eventually, Katie managed to stop, wiping her eyes and she shook her head.

“Sometimes I think it’s a blessing my parents are no longer around. My mom especially would be horrified if they could see how uncouth I act at times.”

“I dunno.” He shrugged “If you were my daughter I’d be pretty proud of how you turned out.”

Katie smiled shyly at his compliment “Thanks Stevie. I’m sure yours would feel the same.”

He didn’t ask how she knew his parents were both dead, it was fairly obvious she would have read his file. Instead he simply smiled and looked down at his hands “I like to think so. Although I’m pretty sure if my ma was still around and knew what I was doing tomorrow she’d have a coupla’ things to say about it. And a few slaps ready for the back ‘o ma head!”

“Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled, “If my dad could see me here, right now. Man, he’d be apoplectic. ‘The army is no place for a woman’” she mimicked a deep voice before she shook her head “Mind you, not like I’ve never heard it before.” She took a deep breath and looked at him “You’ve never commented on it though.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head, shrugging “That’s not how my ma brought me up. She was a single parent for all my life, anything a man could do in the house she did just as well. Besides, I know what it’s like to be told no because of what or who you are.”

“Ironically who I am kinda got me through the door.” She said, and when Steve looked at her pondering what she meant, she continued “I was already working for the CIA when Howie told me that Colonel Phillips had approached him about working for the SSR. Naturally I wanted in but of course there were grumbles about it because I was a female. But my brother put his foot-down, said we came as a team, so they relented. Plus, Peggy, or Agent 13 was she was then, was already in deep cover working for Schmidt as a maid in his personal mansion.” She licked he lips and shrugged “Colonel Phillips convinced the CIA to send me undercover as Peggy’s friend, a go-between if you will meaning there was less risk of her cover being blown.” She paused and glanced at him as Steve simply watched, rapt with attention. “Over the next few months we obtained details of Schmidt’s plan, what he was intending to do with Erskine’s serum and we knew we couldn’t possibly let the Nazi’s perfect it. Since we rescued Erskine, he and Howard have been working on finishing the formula, building the necessary equipment to ensure that it works. And Peggy and I were given our reward which was permission to serve in the allied army as SSR Agents.”

“Permission?” Steve deadpanned and Katie snorted.

“Yup.”

“Interesting reward.”

“I’d have taken whatever chance they gave to me.” She shrugged “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

Steve looked at her, the similarities in their stories were striking even despite their different backgrounds. But he still didn’t get it. She was beautiful, could have married well, just like most gals of her status…and his confusion must have shown as she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment before she spoke again.

“Don’t you think I was right to do so?”

“No, I mean, yes I do. I guess I’m just curious as to why you’d wanna join the army if you’re a beautiful dame.”

At that both her eyebrows raised and he cursed himself. He’d managed most of this conversation so far not to put his foot in his mouth and now, wham, kicked himself straight in the teeth. “Or a beautiful… a woman.” He floundered for words “An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but…”

“Why do you get so nervous when you speak to me?” Katie asked and Steve shook his head, giving a little huff as she called him out, groaning a little.

“Because up until the point I met you I think the longest conversation I ever had with a woman would have been with Mrs Barnes or Mrs Tomley.” he looked up at her, before he glanced back down at his hands. “Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.”

“You must have danced?” Katie frowned, and she seemed genuinely surprised at what he was admitting.

“Well, asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying.” Steve shrugged “And the past few years just didn’t seem to matter that much. Figured I’d wait.”

“For what?”

“The right partner.” He said, his eyes still focussed on his hands. He could feel Katie looking at him and eventually he raised his eyes to see her smiling softly at him.

“Well, I think all the girls in Brooklyn are dumbasses for not noticing you.”  With her words she stood up and crossed to the bed he was sat on, taking a spot besides him. Steve swallowed, his entire body going rigid at the fact she was so close to him and she turned her face to look into his eyes. “You’re sweet”

He chuckled “You know I hear that a lot…you’re really sweet and all but…“

“Like I said…”she bumped her shoulder against his slightly, “Dumbasses”

Steve looked at her before he felt his cheeks once more growing warm and he looked away, hastily, focussing on nothing in particular as her words echoed around his head. He didn’t know how to respond to praise, not in the sense in which she was giving it to him anyway.

“But seriously, why does me complimenting you make you so awkward Steve?” she asked, and despite himself Steve’s head shot up to look at her once more, his mouth falling open at the fact that she’d unwittingly just read his mind.

He took a deep breath “I guess I’m not used to it, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry if it makes you feel awkward.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her hands for a moment before she glanced back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light. “But I just, well, I like you Steve.” she whispered, “I mean, really like you.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry as her eyes flicked down to his lips, the same way they had at the Expo and he swallowed, the lump thick in his throat.

“I err, I…” he took a deep breath, the palms of his hands feeling clammy, those green emeralds sparkling as he looked at her, his mind willing him to summon the courage to say what he wanted to. And before he could chicken out, he blurted the words. “I like you too.”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she gently moved towards him, closing the already small distance between them as Steve reached up, with a shaky right hand, his actions completely instinctual. He gently cupped her cheek as his lips found hers and he kissed her, tentatively at first before soon the kiss was as deep as it had been at the Expo. His spare hand balled into a fist by his side as he was unsure exactly what to do with it until he felt Katie’s fingers gently work his away from his palm and she pulled his left arm towards her. Following her lead, he tentatively pressed his palm onto her hip as she shifted her weight slightly, wrapping her arms round his neck. She pulled him closer, the kiss growing deeper and Steve couldn’t help the soft little whimper that rolled in his throat. As the involuntary noise filed the air between them he felt Katie’s lips smile against his and then, he was pitching forward as she fell slowly backwards, pulling him down with her as she sank onto the bunk. The movement came as a not-entirely unwelcome surprise to Steve and he didn’t resist. With a shaky breath he paused for a moment, realising he had absolutely no idea what to do next other than run with it. So, after a second or so more deliberation, he went once more with his gut and crawled over her, resting his weight on his palms which he placed either side of her head before he dropped his face to hers and kissed her again. Her lips felt so soft against his, something he wasn’t sure he’d taken the time to appreciate before, or maybe it was all simply heightened by the fact he was lay over her, he had no idea. But what he did know was that when Katie placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw, it sent a jolt of electricity tingling all the way down his spine. She was the one to break away this time, breathing deeply as her head rest on his hard, army issued pillow, her eyes bouncing across both of his.

“You okay?” she asked and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I err…” he swallowed and gave a little huff of shy laughter as he hung his head a little, peeking up a her shyly “I don’t know what I’m doing, or even if we should be doing it at all.”

“What do you mean if we should be doing it at all?”

“Well, we’re not…” he licked his lips “I mean, I should be taking you out, on a date or…well, at least doing things properly, not just…”

“Steve, we’re in the middle of a damned war.” Katie looked at him, cutting his protests off dead. “Every day could be your last, to hell with rules and being prim and proper.”

Steve had to concede she had a point, and as he looked into her eyes he could feel that last thread of his self-control starting to fray. Every inch of his body was on fire for her, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her stupid and feel her underneath him.

“Don’t over think it.” She muttered, her lips ghosting over his “Just run with it.”

So he did. He kissed her hard, dropping to his elbows and pressing a little more of his weight on top of her, totally lost in her warmth and softness. He let out another soft sigh as he felt her shift underneath him and pulled away, turning his head so that his lips were inches from her neck as he recalled a part of a film he’d seen. He glanced up at her as she watched him, her pupils blown with a combination of lust and anticipation.

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispered softly.

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. As he did so, his arms and hands moved downwards slowly, his fingers timidly resting on her hips as they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him as she groaned slightly at the contact.  Steve pulled back to stare at her again, her noise shocking him slightly, not sure what to do next but Katie wordlessly answered his silent question by tilting her hips up again, and this time it was him who moaned.

“Doll, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or do anything-”

“It’s okay Steve,” she said, her voice low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She pushed her head upwards, mouth seeking his out as her hands slid under his t- shirt. He twitched under her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his flat, soft stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. Katie grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and he hesitated, not sure if he really wanted her to see him topless, but she gave an impatient yank, taking the decision away from him and he held his arms up so she could remove it. Once he was free he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest. He swallowed, as her eyes roved his various pox marks and scars and shivered as she let her hands wander, tracing a path down towards the top of his khaki pants. Her eyes met his and she sat up slightly pushing him back a little to allow herself enough room to reach down and pull her own T-shirt over her head.

Steve’s mouth was dry again as he glanced down at her chest, her hair falling around her shoulders, breasts spilling over the tops of the simple, black balcony cups of her bra and his groin twitched, the crotch of his pants now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he froze as he found himself once more unsure of his next move. Swallowing hard against the lump that felt like it was obstructing his entire throat he began to gently squeeze and knead the soft flesh and black lace, before he stopped again to consider his next move.

“It’s okay…” she encouraged and with a nod, his hands slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin automatically bumped against hers. Katie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling hard, forcing his head back sharply and as she tugged he let out another low growl. When she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking, her pupils blown so wide there was hardly any green left.

“Don’t stop…” her hands moved down to grab at his lower back, pulling him back against her as she moved her knees, bending them so that his pelvis was flush with her, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his trousers. Taking her lead, Steve ground against her again, and again, and as he continued his movements be became aware that the rhythm of his hips was becoming more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate.

“More,” Katie moaned into his mouth, and with movements that were completely and utterly automatic he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. It should have been wrong, rutting up against someone fully clothed, but God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him

As he pressed up against her, the tightening across his lower stomach that he’d only felt before when bringing himself off warned him he was fast approaching his release. He let out another groan as he felt his movements beginning to lose rhythm and he moved his lips to her neck, pressing a kiss to her skin as he spoke into her ear. “Katie, I’m close.” He breathed out “You almost there? Tell me your close Doll, please?”

He needn’t have worried, at his words Katie moaned brokenly and nodded and his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more sloppy grinds against her she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair, her, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life as it tumbled from her lips. Seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy, his head dropping  to the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

There was no noise bar the sound of the crickets drifting in from the outside as they both lay, breathing deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies, a light sheen of sweat beaded across Steve’s brow, wisps of his hair sticking to his skin. Finally mustering enough strength to move, he raised his head to look at her, to find her smiling as she pushed her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Wow…” she breathed and Steve let out a soft huff of laughter as he sat up to allow her the space to do the same. “You got game Soldier, I’ll give you that.”

Steve snorted and shook his head as he passed retrieved her t-shirt from the floor and passed it to her. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” He shrugged “I erm…”

“Let you into a secret.” She said gently, pulling her top over her head, flicking her hair back as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed with exertion. “Neither have I.”

“What?” Steve frowned “You’ve never…”

“You expecting me to be some kind of wild harlot or sumthin’ Stevie?” She teased as she stood up, Steve scrambling to his feet mimicking her.

“No I just, pretty girl like you, I thought…”

“What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?” she asked before she gently kissed him again. When she pulled away, her nose bumped his slightly and she pressed her forehead to his. “I best go. I don’t wanna but…” she glanced at the window and looked back at him “I’ll see you tomorrow at the lab.”

“Sure.” Steve followed her a little before she stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at him once more.

“Whatever happens I want you to know that you’re already one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath “You suddenly becoming all big and strong and…well, whatever, won’t change the fact that you already had the heart of a hero, certainly in my eyes anyway.”

And Steve could do nothing but smile as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

[particularemu]

King of Hearts | A Hwang Hyunjin Scenario

Request: “I love your works! And I wanted to ask you and my top two other writers (and more if you can rally that many) @and  @Maaaaaatryoshka0325 to maybe make a scenario with a member being in a gang and they protect the reader and get hurt? Lots of aftercare! But here’s the catch: you all write it separately, I’m curious to see how people handle the scenario differently! Maybe even do other members each?! Whatever you guys can decide if you’re up for it! Fighting! 😃” 

Warnings: Mentions violence, guns, someone getting shot, gambling.

Word Count: 5813 

Other Members: Bang Chan: @thecarat-top​ 

Lee Minho: @maaaaaatryoshka0325​ 

Seo Changbin: @backhugsforhyunjin​ 

Lee Felix: @honeyfelix​ 

Kim Seungmin: @backhugsforhyunjin​ 

Yang Jeongin: @lixiescheesestick​ 

Author’s Note: I don’t know how to play poker, but I tried to learn for this fic. Idk if I got the details wrong, but if I did whoops I apologize. 

Read my bby @jisungsjheekies‘s fic: Eerie Night

“Hey, you ready?” Hyunjin slowly opened the door, a bright smile taking over his features when he saw you in your dress. “Wow… You look amazing.” He closed the distance between you two, placing his hands on your waist as you glanced at yourself in the body-length mirror. 

It felt a bit awkward being in such a fancy gown, but you enjoyed getting all dressed up for tonight. 

Anyone off the streets would think you were going to a ball or a fancy business party. 

No… You weren’t going anywhere like that. You and Hyunjin were headed to The Black Spade — one of the biggest, baddest casinos in the upper west side of the city. The casino was run by the Young Bastards — an oddly successful group of 20-year-old somethings who’ve crossed the line with Stray Kids. 

Originally Hyunjin was the only one who was supposed to go, but an incident at The Black Spade last month put himself at risk.

See... a man who plays the game of Poker has a 40% chance of winning. A man who plays Poker and wins 100% of the time? That’ll alert every gang member watching the floor. Unfortunately, this happened to your boyfriend, so heading back to rob the owner of The Black Spade, was nearly impossible, unless he could provide a distraction. 

So here you were, a distraction indeed, dressed in a tight, sparkly dress, ready to help your boyfriend win several poker games. 

Hwang Hyunjin was quite the anomaly. The man was beautiful and charismatic, but he was also sensitive. People are quick to trust him. Little would they know that Hyunjin was the biggest high-stakes gambler the Stray Kids Gang had to offer. 

The man has won millions of dollars against casinos run by rival gangs. Not only does he play the game — he wins every single time. Hyunjin doesn’t win out of talent — no he’s gotten really good at sleight of hand throughout the years, so he has several tricks up his sleeve. 

Usually, Hyunjin can get away with playing a game and leaving the casino, but last week someone taunted him into staying for three games. To keep from losing any money, Hyunjin had to win all three. He left just before a bunch of gang members came to take him to the leader of the Young Bastards. 

The leader of Stray Kids, Bang Chan, wanted to get them back. The best and least violent way to destroy a gang? Rob them blind. The easiest way to do that would be sending Hyunjin to The Black Spade once more, but Chan couldn’t risk losing one of his best members. Besides… Hyunjin was practically family. 

Chan originally asked if you’d be interested in learning to cheat at Poker, so you could go in Hyunjin’s place, but your boyfriend wouldn’t allow you to go alone. So the three of you compromised. You’d go with Hyunjin and disguise his sleight of hand so the gang members wouldn’t be tipped off. 

It took weeks of learning crazy tricks for you to effectively cheat at a game of Poker. It took another week to get used to doing sleight of hand with Hyunjin handing you the cards down his sleeve. Eventually, the two of you were like clockwork. He’d slip a card down his sleeve and go hold your hand. You’d take the card as it slid into your hand, and tuck it in your garter. One tap meant swap the card. Two taps meant you needed to hand the hidden card back to Hyunjin. Codeword: Dinner. If shit went south, and people started to notice you cheating, you guys planned to bail with the simple phrase, “Babe, I’m getting hungry. We should go to dinner.” 

“Are you ready?” Hyunjin gently kissed your cheek. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“I want to.” Your hand rested on his cheek as you guided his head to rest on yours. “I’m glad you’re going with me.” 

“There’s no way I’d let you go there by yourself.” Hyunjin kissed your forehead. “Do you have your knife?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your dress, showing off the holster strapped to your upper thigh, a knife securely strapped in. 

“Don’t be afraid to use that if someone gets close to you.” Hyunjin’s arm snaked around your waist. “Don’t question it, just point and stab.” 

You giggled at Hyunjin’s choice of words. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

Hyunjin led you outside to a fancy-looking Limousine.  He opened the door and gestured inside, allowing you to slide in. Your eyes widened at the amazing interior. The Limo was fully equipped with neon lights, velvet seats, bottles of champagne, crystal glasses, and even a television. 

“Okay, this is cool.” You beamed as Hyunjin slid next to you. 

“Well, I figured since I’m asking my girlfriend to risk her life for me, we’d travel in style.” He giggled when you lightly smacked his shoulder. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You slid closer to him and leaned your head against his chest, smiling when he slung his arm over your shoulders. “If we were here under different circumstances I’d say we should try fucking in here.” 

“Please don’t.” You could hear Felix’s voice from behind the partition. 

Lee Felix was the best getaway driver in the city. It was comforting to know you had someone so talented behind the wheel, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s possible to lose a tail in a limo.

“I said under different circumstances Lix.” You chuckled. “If you’re going to eavesdrop, you might as well listen.” 

“I couldn’t risk it.” Felix laughed. “We all know you guys go at it like rabbits.” 

Your face flushed as you sunk back in Hyunjin’s side, ego officially defeated at Felix’s words. “Who heard?”

“You guys are about as subtle as an air horn.” Felix giggled. “Like seriously? We all know you’re going to fuck when you ask Hyunjin to come open a jar of pickles.” 

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed slightly as he laughed with Felix, fully enjoying how you pressed your face into his neck in embarrassment. “Come on Lix, that’s enough. You’re embarrassing her.”

“Well, we’re here, so you don’t have to deal with my shit anymore.” Felix parked the limo in front of the casino. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach, fear suddenly taking over as you stepped out into the night, flashing lights reminding you of the task at hand. Your hands darted to Hyunjin’s arm, squeezing tightly when he stepped out of the limo. 

“Hey,” Hyunjin whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he tried to comfort you. “I won’t think any less of you if you call this off now.” 

You turned to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “How dangerous is this?”

Hyunjin sighed and pulled you flush against his body. “Very.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “There’s a small chance that I could get shot as soon as we walk in.” 

Your blood ran cold, hands tightening around him as panic bubbled in your chest. “Let’s go in before I can’t.” 

“Baby we don’t have to.” His hand rubbed your back, hoping to soothe you. 

“No, let’s go.” You let go of Hyunjin and walked straight into the casino, pausing when you reached the entryway. 

The Black Spade was enormous. The entire casino was filled with various slot machines, card tables, and many other games. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, each shard of glass glistening under the light. You weren’t expecting this to be such a big place. 

Hyunjin rushed to your side, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him. “Don’t you dare do that again.” He sighed in relief. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

Sure enough, as soon as a man saw Hyunjin, he had his hand on his earpiece, talking to, who you assumed was, the leader of the Young Bastards. Not long after the man stopped talking, another man popped out. 

“If it isn’t the infamous Hwang Hyunjin.” He held his hand out to Hyunjin, smiling when your boyfriend shook his hand. “I heard about your three big wins last month, and I’m curious to see if it’ll happen again.” 

There was something about the man that made you nervous. He appeared nice, but you had a bad feeling that he was dangerous. 

“I doubt it.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I still can’t believe that happened! I got lucky.” 

“Luck you say?” The man smirked, an evil twinge in his eye. “I believe you mean skill. I must watch you play a poker game, Mr. Hwang.”

Hyunjin shook his head, pulling you closer to his body. “I actually came here with my girl to play the slot machines. I haven’t played Poker since last month. I’m afraid I’ll be rusty.”

The man shook his head. “That’s too bad. You must play a game with me before you leave. If you can’t find me on the floor, tell any of the workers you’re looking for Damien.”  

So Damien was his name. Damien gave you a curt nod and shook Hyunjin’s hand once more before departing. Once he was a safe distance away you squeezed Hyunjin’s hand. “I need to use the restroom. Can we please find one?”

Hyunjin nodded, a look of concern replacing his features as he led you to the ladies room. You ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. God, you needed to replace that look of pure panic or you were going to tip off the whole club. You smacked your cheek a couple times to get your shit together, before heading back out to your boyfriend. 

Hyunjin was leaning against the wall when you stepped out. “Did you do that thing you do when you’re scared shitless? You know… where you smack your face?”

Your eyes widened as you slipped your hand in his. “How the fuck did you know?” 

“I’ve always known. Your cheeks are super red dingus.” He giggled when you shoved his side. 

You and Hyunjin headed to the banker. “I need 16 million in chips please.” He paused. “Please leave out $100 in coins.” 

“Of course sir.” The banker handed Hyunjin a bag full of chips, then slid a small stack of quarters across the counter. 

“Thank you, sir.” Hyunjin nodded at the man, grabbing the chips and leading you over to the slot machines. 

“Aren’t we supposed to play poker?” You asked. 

“Yeah, but I told him I’d be playing the slot machines with you.” He kissed you on the cheek and gestured for you to sit down. “Here.” Hyunjin handed you a handful of coins. “Why don’t you play a few rounds.”   

“How do you play?” You frowned, staring at the money in your hands. 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh. You were so innocent. “Baby, you just place the coin in the slot machine and pull the lever.” 

Hyunjin sat down in a chair next to you and threw a coin in the machine. He pulled the lever, only to see a bell, a seven, and cherries — a losing combination. 

“Why don’t you try?” He smiled at you as you slipped a coin into the machine and pulled the lever. 

Damn. You had two sevens and a bell. 

“Who was that?” You asked about the strange man from earlier. 

“Damien? He’s the leader of the Young Bastards.” Hyunjin chuckled. “He didn’t pick a very good name for his gang.” 

“Would he hurt us?” Your voice got small as you pulled the slot machine again. 

Hyunjin paused to look at you. “I won’t let him hurt us.” 

“Hyunjin,” You paused, frustration and fear getting the better of you. “You can’t promise shit like that.”

“Hey.” Hyunjin shoved your shoulder and giggled to try and lift your spirits. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but-” 

“Then trust me when I say that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Hyunjin’s eyes bore into yours, making you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Now pull the lever and win us some big money.” He chuckled. 

You giggled and did what Hyunjin said, sighing when you got another losing combination. 

You and Hyunjin played the slot machines, chatting about this and that for a while before you started to see a crowd form at the Poker tables. You heard someone cry out in anguish and several people in the crowd cheer. 

“Hyunjin what’s going on?” You asked, suddenly feeling nervous. 

“People gather around when there’s a high-stakes Poker game going on.” He pursed his lips. “It might be time for us to make an entrance.”

You gulped, feeling a lump in your throat as you grabbed Hyunjin’s hand. 

“Do you think you can do this?” He pulled you closer. “If you look terrified, they’re going to know something’s up. So if you can’t do this—” 

“I can do it.” You cut him off. “Let’s go.” 

You took a deep breath as Hyunjin lead you to the poker table. 

“If it isn’t Hwang Hyunjin!” Damien greeted the two of you once more. “This poor bastard just lost 10 million dollars and his wife!” Damien pointed to a middle-aged man who was sobbing on the floor. “What do you say, Hwang? Do you want to try your hand at beating me?”

Hyunjin pursed his lips. 

This was clearly going to be a game of wits. It was obvious Damien was cheating. Hyunjin could tell by the cards sprawled on the table. One deck of cards doesn’t have two Queen of Spades. He had to be careful. It wasn’t just his life on the line, but yours as well. 

“You’re on.” He smirked, handing the chips to the dealer to check for authenticity. “Come here baby.” 

Oh my god it was happening! 

You took your place beside Hyunjin, the two of you sharing a look before the game started. Hyunjin turned his head, making it look like he was kissing your forehead, but he whispered, “Say the word and we’re gone.” 

Right the code word. 

“Everyone ready?” Once the dealer got the okay from everyone, he shuffled the cards and dealt out two cards to everyone at the table. Hyunjin was positioned in the big blind position, which means he had to put down double of what Damien decided to bet. 

“How much?” The dealer asked. 

“6 million,” Damien smirked as half the table picked up and left, opting to keep their chips in their pockets. 

You couldn’t help but gasp. You weren’t used to throwing that kind of money down on anything. To see Hyunjin put forth 12 million dollars in chips made your stomach turn. 

The rest of the table put forth their bets, leaving nearly 50 million dollars in the middle of the table. Your face paled at the massive pile of chips. 

If Hyunjin lost, not only would he lose a ton of money for Stray Kids, but there was a chance you’d lose your life. 

You tilted your head, looking to see what cards Hyunjin was holding in his hands. He’s got a 9 of spades and a 5 of clovers. 

Fuck… He didn’t have what he needed for a royal flush, but he could opt for a high full house. It depends on what cards appear in the flop rounds. The game was left to the cards at this point. 

The dealer revealed two more cards face-up to start the Flop betting round. There was a Queen of Clovers, a 9 of Hearts, and a Jack of Diamonds. 

“Bet.” Hyunjin called out confidently, pushing forward more chips. 

You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you trusted him. After all, Hyunjin has been playing poker for a long ass time. 

The dealer turned over the fourth card, starting the post turn betting round. A man paled and rested his head on the table. Either he’s bluffing or he’s truly holding a losing hand. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor bastard. 

“Check,” Hyunjin called, pursing his lips, despite the fact that he had a good hand.

“Bet.” Damien smirked at his hand, pushing more chips forward. 

“Fold.” The other man folded, opting to keep what little chips he had left. 

“Raise.” Hyunjin shoved another large stack of chips into the pile. 

What the fuck was happening?

Was he bluffing? 

Damien matched Hyunjin’s bet, sliding a large stack of chips into the center. The table was surrounded by people, watching to see what would happen in this high-stakes Poker game. You couldn’t help but wonder yourself. If Damien wins, does that mean you and Hyunjin can just leave? Were you expected to stay there until he won back the money?

Fuck what was going to happen?

The dealer turned over the 5th and final card. 

This was the final betting round. 

Hyunjin dipped his hand in yours, tapping his index finger on your palm twice. You quickly turned to kiss his cheek, sliding your hand up your dress to grab the card. 

“I know you can do it, baby.” 

“All in.” Hyunjin tucked one of the cards in his sleeve as he reached up to ruffle your hair. 

You grabbed his hand off your head, handing off the 9 of clovers in his hand. You lowered your hand, effectively slipping the 5 of clovers into your garter. It was a quick exchange and you were positive no one saw what happened. 

You exhaled, relief flooding your body until you saw Damien smirk from across the table. 

Did he see?

“Call.” Damien pushed forward some chips. 

Damien and Hyunjin pushed forward their cards, showing their hands. You paled as Damien flipped over a full house. Two queens and three aces. Hyunjin lost. 

He lost everything. 

Your heart dropped in your stomach as you reached for Hyunjin’s sleeve. Maybe you two could call it now? If you called it now, maybe you guys could leave with your lives. 

You looked at Hyunjin’s face to see him smirking at Damien. “You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve Damien.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Damien shrugged. 

Hyunjin merely laughed — a dark laughter that you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. He’s usually such a high-pitched giggly man. You had to admit, this side of Hyunjin frightened you a little. 

“You play poker with one set of cards correct?” Hyunjin chuckled darkly. 

“That’s the only way to play.” Damien chuckled nervously. He blew his own cover. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m asking because I want to know why he has a Queen of Spades?” Hyunjin pointed to a man sitting across the table — his cards flipped up to show another Queen of Spades to match Damiens. 

“He must be cheating.” Damien glared at the man. “Security, take him away.” 

You gasped as a few armed men lurched forward, grabbing the man’s arms. Your fingers tightened around Hyunjin’s sleeve, alerting Hyunjin. He grabbed your hand in his and squeezed, hoping to calm you down. 

“Don’t do that.” Hyunjin chuckled as the guards paused. “He’s right next to the dealer. The dealer would have noticed if he was cheating.” 

Damien threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “I own this joint. Do you really think they’re going to do anything about me cheating?”

“Babe,” you started. It was time to go. You couldn’t stand being there any longer. “I’m getting hungry. Should we go to dinner?”

“No.” 

Your blood ran cold. That was your code. That was the word. You wanted to go and Hyunjin wouldn't let you. 

“We’re playing again, and this time I’m betting with 15 million.” Hyunjin smirked as the dealer handed him 15 million in chips. “If I lose, you get all of my money.” 

“If I lose?” Damien smirked. 

“You give me back what I lost during the last round, and you let us go.” Hyunjin thrust his hand forward. “Sound good?”

“You have a deal.” Damien shook Hyunjin’s hand and sat back at the table. 

The game was purely between Hyunjin and Damien. Everyone else had left. 

The dealer shuffled the cards and handed out two cards each. Hyunjin had two queens. 

So far it was looking good. You had a King stashed in your garter. All he needed was an Ace, a Jack, and a 10. 

Hyunjin and Damien put in their bets, throwing all their chips in the center. 

Wait… what? He didn’t even know what cards were there? Why is he going all-in?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. You could feel it. Hyunjin was being ballsy and Damien was setting up a trap.  

The dealer flipped over two cards, revealing a 10 of Spades and a Jack of hearts. 

You could do it, you could win this. Hyunjin instantly put his hand down, tapping on your palm twice. You giggled and leaned your head against his shoulder, taking the card he stuffed down his sleeve and putting it in your garter. Then you grabbed the King of Spades and…

Oh no…

The card slipped from your hands. 

Hyunjin remained still. “Got a good hand there Damien?” 

He was trying to keep him distracted. 

You thought quick, snapping off one of your acrylic nails and throwing it to the ground. 

“Oh my god, my nail just fell off.” You sighed and bent down grabbing the card and hiding it under your shoe. “I paid big money to get these done. I can’t believe it just…” You lifted your head to see a revolver pointed at your head. 

Before you knew it, Hyunjin had swiped all the chips to the ground, sending various onlookers to the floor to pick up the millions of dollars in chips. The gunman was knocked over in the chaos, giving you an opportunity to crawl under the table to hide from the mess. 

Damien just watched the chaos with a huge smile. “Leaving so soon Hwang?” 

Hyunjin cursed and grabbed your arm harshly, the bruising grip causing you to cry out in pain. You’ve never seen him so violent before. 

You could hear Damien yell, “Tell Stray Kids to watch their backs.” as Hyunjin pulled you out of the Casino. 

Hyunjin burst through the doors and pulled you along the sidewalk. 

You frantically pushed at Hyunjin’s hand. “Hyunjin let go, you’re hurting me.” 

“Shut up.” Hyunjin turned to glare at you before pulling you along the sidewalk again. 

“Should we call Lix?”

“There’s no time,” Hyunjin growled. 

He was beyond pissed. 

Once you two got far enough away from the Casino, Hyunjin released his grip on your arm. He trudged along the sidewalk, refusing to say a word, while you trailed behind him. You looked at your feet as you walked, guilt taking over your emotions. 

You weren’t stupid. You realized how big of a mess you made. Now Stray Kids would be down 27 million dollars and Hyunjin’s cover was blown. 

“I fucked up.” Your small voice stopped Hyunjin in his tracks. 

He tried — oh he tried so hard to keep his temper in check, but your huge fuck up would reflect poorly on him. “You think?” Hyunjin looked over his shoulder, frowning at you. 

“Hyunjin I’m sorry I choked.” 

“No, you didn’t just choke.” Hyunjin scoffed. “You could have killed both of us. All you had to do was hand me the card. We’ve practiced that hundreds of times. How could you fuck that up?”

“I’m sorry.” Your eyes glassed over as you took the verbal lashing Hyunjin gave you. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you did in there.” He turned around and started to walk again. 

“Well whatever happened to ‘say the word baby and we’ll leave?’” You mocked. “This isn’t all my fault. I said the code word. You ignored me asshole.” 

“It’s not your fault?” Hyunjin scoffed. “This is one-hundred-percent your fault. We could have won!” His voice raised with each word. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You sobbed. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I lost all that money.” 

“You aren’t understanding me,” Hyunjin yelled. “You could have died.” He grabbed your shoulders and shook you with each word. “You. Could. Have. Died.” 

“I know.” You collapsed to the ground and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You were so scared in that moment. Hyunjin wasn’t acting like himself. You messed up everything for Stray Kids. You had a gun to your head 10 minutes ago. 

Tears fell down your cheeks. “I never asked for any of this.” 

“Oh hush.” Hyunjin turned away from you. “You asked for this when you accepted this mission. You knew what this was, and yet you agreed.” 

“Well maybe I don’t want this life anymore!” You blurted out. Were these your true feelings? “If that means I have to leave you then so be it.” You had to get out of there. You stood up and turned around, leaving Hyunjin to sort out his emotions.

A heavy dose of reality hit Hyunjin when you started to walk away. “Wait, you don’t mean that do you?” 

You had to take a minute. Of course, you loved him. You loved him so much, but this life was already taking its toll on the two of you. “I don’t know.” You answered. 

Hyunjin paled. “Baby I—” 

A gunshot forced you to turn around. You watched a bullet fly through the air, lodging into Hyunjin’s shoulder, knocking him back. His head hit a stone pillar behind him, knocking him unconscious. You screamed and ducked behind a trash can, eyes focused on the amount of blood pouring out of your boyfriend’s head and shoulder. 

You heard a loud laugh as a GMC drove off, turning the corner quickly so no one could identify the license plate. 

Despite being terrified and weak, you had to get him out of there. Leaving him in the street could get him killed. You ran over to Hyunjin and slipped your arms underneath his armpits. You dragged the poor boy into an alleyway, sobbing as you pulled out your phone and dialed Chan’s number. 

Chan answered on the first ring. “Y/N? What happened?” 

“Hyunjin was shot.” You sobbed into the speaker, pressing onto Hyunjin’s shoulder wound with your unoccupied hand. 

You could hear Chan gasp on the other end. “Where are you?” 

“On the corner of 75th. We’re in an alley behind a Chinese restaurant.” You sniffled. 

“I’ll be there in 5. Press on the wound and make sure he stays awake.” Chan hung up before you could say anything else. 

Well, you’ve already fucked up. Hyunjin was out cold. 

Seeing your boyfriend so… dead looking made you cry even harder. What are you going to do? You loved the boy, despite his flaws and his questionable life decisions. He was sweet and caring. He didn’t deserve to die this way.

A truck screeched as it turned the corner. Felix hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened the bed of the truck. 

“I brought Seungmin. Let’s hurry up and get him in the truck.” Lix gasped when he saw Hyunjin’s freakishly pale skin. “He doesn’t look good.” 

Chan hopped out of the passenger's seat, helping Felix and Seungmin lift Hyunjin in the bed of the truck. You tried to hop in the back, hoping to help Hyunjin however you can. 

Felix put his hand on your shoulder. “You should sit up front with Chan. Seungmin and I will make sure he comes back to you.” He smiled sadly. 

You quickly hopped into the passenger seat, looking forward to heading back to headquarters. 

“What happened in there?” Chan asked as he started to drive home. 

“I fucked up.” You sighed. “I lost you guys 27 million dollars.” 

Chan’s eyes widened. “Wow.” 

You sniffled and started to cry once again. “I’m so sorry.” You sobbed. 

“Hey don’t worry about it.” Chan squeezed your shoulder. “I’m just happy to see the two of you alive.” Chan cringed. “Well, mostly alive.” 

You couldn’t help but tear up as you remembered the argument. “Hyunjin hates me.” 

“Hyunjin doesn’t hate you.” Chan chuckled a bit. “That man loves you more than he loves his dog. That says a lot.” 

“You didn’t hear the way he spoke to me.” You turned in your seat, rubbing your arms to soothe yourself. 

Chan sighed. “Hyunjin gets emotional sometimes. He doesn’t mean what he says when he’s fired up.” Chan paused a moment, thinking of what to ask. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You replied. “Hyunjin is the one who’s hurt.” 

“No.” Chan cut you off before you could say anything else. “I’m not talking about physically.” He rested his hand on your shoulder. “We’re used to seeing guns and having our lives threatened. You’re just a normal girl.” Chan sighed. “You shouldn’t have to watch your boyfriend get shot.”  

“I don’t want to be a normal girl anymore.” You mumbled. “I want to do what I can to protect him.” 

“Hyunjin can protect himself.” Chan replied. “Don’t get any ideas about becoming his savior. That mentality is what gets people killed.” Chan took a deep breath. “But if you want me to show you how to use a gun, and train you to come with us on missions, I can make it happen. You’re the one who’s going to have to tell Hyunjin that it’s what you want, otherwise I’ll have to deal with his wrath.” Chan shivered.

“Hyunjin has wrath?” You chuckled. 

“Do you have eyes?” Chan laughed. “Hyunjin only has wrath when it comes to you.” He smiled. “That boy loves you.” 

You sighed. “I feel like I fucked our relationship up.” 

“Y/N he has a ring.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“He has a ring,” Chan repeated himself. “If he proposes, please act surprised.” 

You felt even worse now. Your boyfriend was going to propose and here you were telling him that you didn’t want to be with him anymore. 

“We’re here.” Chan pulled into the garage and put the truck in park. You could see Felix and Seungmin hop out of the truck and quickly take Hyunjin inside. 

“Hey.” Chan stopped you before you could dart out.

“Hmm?” 

“You need to think about this. Marrying him is agreeing to an unstable life. Can you live with that?” Chan questioned. 

You nodded. 

Chan pursed his lips. “Just think about it okay?” 

“I will.” You smiled and darted inside, hoping to hear good news. 

----------

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed as he came to, wondering what happened. Where was he?

He could feel a light pressure on his shoulder. Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered open as he looked around the room, hoping to figure out what happened. 

He was in the infirmary in the house… 

Suddenly pieces of the night came back to him. 

A gun, someone pointed a gun at your head. Where were you? You weren’t shot, right? 

Hyunjin shot up in bed, alerting Seungmin and the boys. “Y/N.” He called for you. 

Seungmin popped into the room. “Hey, buddy. It’s nice to see you awake.” Seungmin grabbed one of Hyunjin’s hands, squeezing lightly. 

“Where is she? Tell me where is she?” Hyunjin teared up. You can’t be dead. You can’t be… Tears rolled down his cheeks as he repeatedly called your name, hoping you were okay. Why wasn’t anyone telling him if you were okay?

“Hyunjin?” You poked your head in the room, instantly calming the poor boy. He collapsed back in the bed, sobbing as he regained bits of his memory. You rushed over to his side, slipping into the bed and holding him close. “I’m here.” You kissed his forehead and ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. “I’m okay.” 

“I thought you were dead.” Hyunjin sniffled. “There was a gun.” 

“You saved me.” You couldn’t help but tear up. “I thought I was never going to see you again.” 

Hyunjin chuckled and nuzzled into your embrace. “I don’t die that easy.” 

----------

Taking care of Hyunjin while he was healing was no easy task. He was such a finicky boy, always asking for you to come cuddle him for various reasons. 

“But baby I’m cold.” 

“But baby, I want to hold you, it makes my arm feel better.” 

“I might have a nightmare without you.” 

Even though he was a pain in the ass, you loved taking care of him. It took him a month to get back to full health, and you couldn’t help but worry for him when his next mission popped up. 

You were wandering around the house wondering where he ran off to. Hyunjin had been a bit more distant lately. Not that he wasn’t constantly attached to your hip, but he wouldn’t talk about his worries. 

“Hyunjin?” You poked your head into the bar, seeing him sitting at a poker table staring at a deck of cards. “You okay?”

Hyunjin chuckled and threw the cards on the table. “I’m scared.” Your heart broke when he turned around, eyes tired as though he didn’t sleep a wink last night. “I shouldn't be, but I am.” 

“What do you mean you shouldn’t be scared? Hyunjin you got shot last time.” You wrapped your arms around him. “You have every right to be afraid.” 

Hyunjin sighed, covering your hands with his. “Have you ever heard stories from people who have near-death experiences?”

You leaned your head against his chest and squeezed tighter. “Yeah, I’ve heard a couple.” 

“Most people see their lives flash before their eyes.” He paused. “All I saw was you.” 

You released your hold on him so he could look you in the eyes. He looked frightened.

“I saw our first kiss, our first date, our first time together…” Hyunjin trailed off. “Then I saw what could have been the end of us… and it was all my fault.” 

Hyunjin dropped down to one knee. “I love you and I want you by my side forever.” He paused, taking your hand in his. “I know you might not want to live this kind of life, but, will you—” 

“Yes!” You blurted out. 

Hyunjin chuckled. “I didn’t ask yet.” 

“Okay.” You giggled and waited. 

“Will you —” 

“Yes.” You replied making him laugh. 

“Will—”

“Yes.” You cut him off once again. 

“Y/N please.” He laughed and pulled out a small velvet box. “Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yes.” You leaped into his arms, giggling as he lifted you up and spun you around. He slid the ring onto your left ring finger and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. 

You held him closer, rubbing your noses together as you said “Now I don’t want you to leave on this mission. I want you to stay home with me.” 

Hyunjin giggled. “I’m not afraid anymore.” 

“Oh yeah?” You pecked him on the nose. “And why’s that?”

“I have you to come home to.” 

[bestillmyslashyheart]

0 to 60 in 3.5,

3/?

There was a race the next night. Forrest had let it slip while he was yelling at Alex that keeping him on was losing him business and it was short work to get the details out of him. Including the fact that the Evans crew was planning on going. 

The five of them were among the top ten racers in the entire southern California area but they rarely raced together. That night, all five of them were planning to show up and drive.

Alex couldn’t miss it.

The car he’d gotten from the Bureau wasn’t perfect. He’d taken it out for a few, or more than a few, test drives and he was comfortable behind the wheel but he knew there would be far better cars out there. Some of them most likely driven by his targets. If he raced, he’d likely lose. It was why he’d refrained from racing much so far. Oh he’d gone out most nights and he’d even driven in a few but they were always smaller scale with little on the line.

By the time he arrived, the party was going strong. The racers weren’t scheduled to start until later but Alex was hoping to make a few connections and possibly get himself on the ticket. He wouldn’t win but it would get him noticed. 

Alex mingled for about half an hour before the crowd’s attention was stolen by two new cars pulling in. One was a pink Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 and the other was a dark blue Dodge Charger R/T. Alex wasn’t surprised when Michael Guerin stepped out of the Charger; he’d seen it parked outside the garage enough times to know it was one of theirs. He had on tight jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off and most of the buttons apparently missing. He was mildly surprised when Jenna Cameron stepped out of the Skyline, though. He hadn’t expected her to drive a pink car; she reminded him a little bit of Rosa and he half expected her to insist on a red car too. But the ripped shirt, leather pants and boots she wore reminded him of Maria. And Maria would have absolutely driven a pink car if she’d had the chance so maybe he wasn’t too surprised after all. The second they were out of the cars, they were swallowed up by the crowd.

Alex hung back, unsure if he should approach them. Had it been a few days earlier he probably would have tried to approach Jenna but after the fight with Noah, he thought perhaps it was best to keep his distance for now.

“Please tell me that’s not your car,” Alex turned to see Michael glaring at the car behind Alex with disgust. Alex glanced over his shoulder at the souped up Volkswagen Jetta. It was gold. 

Alex cringed away from it. “Hell no,” he replied.

“Oh thank god,” Michael sighed in relief. “I’d hate to think a guy as hot as you had taste that bad.” Alex resolutely did not flush. After all, it wasn’t like he didn’t know Michael thought he was hot; he hadn’t been particularly subtle at the store. But it was another to hear him say it so blatantly. “So where is your car?”

Alex nodded at where his green Acura NSX-T was parked a few cars down. Michael eyed it, winked at Alex, and wandered over to check it out. Alex looked around to see if he could spot Jenna but she was preoccupied with a few women and didn’t look like she would invite any interruptions so he followed after him. By the time he reached his car, Michael had somehow popped the hood. Alex fingered the keys in his pocket to make sure they were still there. “How’d you-?”

“Trade secret,” Michael winked at him again. “I’m handy with cars.” He reached in and fiddled with something, Alex couldn’t see what. Didn’t stop him from reaching out and smacking his hand away.

“Don’t touch my car,” Alex snapped. Michael only grinned in reply. He held his hands up in feigned innocence.

“I would never touch another driver’s car.” He put a hand on his chest like he was offended at the accusation. “I just wanted to look. See what makes her...tick.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip and gave Alex the same look he’d given him at the store when he’d had his hand on Alex’s leg. He wasn’t talking about the car and they both knew it.

Alex dropped the hood shut with a scowl. Michael's smile dimmed. He looked Alex in the eyes for a second before nodding to himself and stepping back. He was about to leave and Alex suddenly didn’t want him to. Alex had initially targeted Jenna as a way in to the crew but he could already tell Michael would be the better avenue. That and he didn’t want to watch Michael walk away from him.

“Are you allergic to buttons?” He cringed slightly. That was not what he meant to say, at all.

But it got Michael to stop moving away from him. He turned back towards Alex and raised an eyebrow before looking down at his shirt then back up at Alex. “Problem?”

“I didn’t say that,” Alex defended. 

“Oh,” Michael drawled. His hands went to the two remaining buttons holding his shirt together. “So you don’t like the buttons?” Alex tried to glare at him but his eyes kept dropping to his chest as he pulled at the two sides of his shirt and bared his chest. Michael laughed and dropped his hands before the last buttons came undone. He leaned in close, close enough for Alex to breathe in the scent of him. “Maybe later. We’ll have to see how you race first.”

Alex’s eyes shot open. “So what? You’re my prize if I win?”

Michael smirked. “Maybe I’m the consolation prize when you lose.”

“Hey now,” Alex mused, “don’t sell yourself short like that.”

“I’m not. I mean, I’m good,” Michael assured him. “But I’m not 30 grand good. I imagine most people would rather have the cash prize.”

Alex quickly did the math. It wasn’t hard; four racers, winner take all. It was a $10,000 buy in. Alex did not have $10,000. “I guess we’ll have to see,” Alex replied belatedly.

Michael quirked an eyebrow at him in question but Alex was saved from having to reply by the arrival of three cars: a white Nissan 240SX, a red Toyota Supra, and an orange Koenigsegg CCXR. Isobel, Max, and Noah stepped out of their respective cars and Michael flocked to their sides without so much as a goodbye. From the other side of the crowd, Alex spotted Jenna making her way over to them too. 

With the last of the heavy hitters now here, Alex knew the races would soon start. He quickly made his way over to the guy running things.

“I want in,” he greeted.

The man didn’t even look up. “Which race?”

“Whichever one the Evans’ are in,” Alex replied. Four slots meant not all members of the crew would race together but he knew that Max and Isobel liked to race each other. Max won most often but Isobel had been known to beat him a few times and always enjoyed the chance to try again. The man scoffed.

“Race is full up.”

Alex took a deep breath as subtly as he could. The Bureau would not be happy with what he was about to do but- “I don’t have the buy in but I’ll throw in my pink slip.”

That got the man’s attention. He slowly looked up at Alex, his eyes assessing. Alex had met him a few times at smaller events but he wasn’t sure what the man thought of him. “Where’s your car?” Alex pointed over his shoulder. The man gave it a cursory look, probably to make sure it was the same car Alex had driven in the past. “You’ll lose,” he warned.

Alex shrugged. “Maybe. Or Maybe I won’t.”

The man scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever. I’ll clear it with Isobel and you’re in.”

“You need her permission to fill a race?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“She doesn’t like racing for slips,” he countered. “I’m not gonna piss her off and make her pull out.” Which, considering Isobel was one of the main draws tonight, was certainly fair enough. “I’ll let you know later.”

Alex nodded and went back to his car. There were five races that night. The first was for the kids just starting out. Short and sweet, most people didn’t bother to stop partying to watch. The second was a little better, a few more people paid attention, but it was relatively tame. After that, small groups of people started leaving. The next few races were long enough that you couldn’t see the finish line from the starting line so the party had to move. Noah lined up in the third race, his bright orange car fitting in just fine with the other neon colored cars. 

Before the race started, Isobel sidled up to him. She didn’t look at him, choosing instead to look over his car. “Why?” She asked. She didn’t say anything else.

Alex looked over at her. “I like my job,” he replied.

Isobel stared at him, unimpressed. “We don’t want your car.” 

“No, seriously,” he cut her off when she turned to leave. “Forrest wants to fire me and I need my job. I’m on parole and not a lot of places are hiring people with a record.” Isobel’s face gave nothing away. “I got a problem with guys who get angry at women,” he continued. “It wasn’t my business and I shouldn’t have gotten in between your crew but I couldn’t do nothing. I didn’t mean to offer any insult, alright? I figure if we race for slips-”

“We’re not,” Isobel corrected. “And your car is worth more than the buy in.” Alex waited. “But we’ll take it.”

She stalked off, the crowd parting for her as she rejoined her brother. Alex missed the next race trying to figure out how he was going to explain to his boss how he lost the car.  Chatter around the crowd told him Noah won but Alex didn’t care. Michael and Jenna were pulling up to the line for the fourth race.

Alex hesitated briefly before slipping from the crowd and approaching Michael’s window. Plan A was to endear himself to the twins by sacrificing his car. Plan B was Michael. 

The window rolled down as he approached and Alex took it as an invitation to lean in. “I think I might need that consolation prize later,” he confessed.

Michael laughed. “I think you’re gonna need more than that.”

Alex accepted that with a shrug. “I didn’t ask earlier.” Michael raised an eyebrow in question. “What’s your prize? What do you get if you win?”

Michael’s eyes became heated as he looked Alex over. “Whatever the hell I want.” He raised the window and forced Alex to back up. Their eyes stayed locked through the window for a moment before the girl with the flag stepped into the middle of the road and Alex had to get out of the way. He caught the edge of an exasperated look on Jenna’s face as he passed her car before she was too focused on the race to pay him any mind.

The flag dropped and the cars took off. By the time Alex lost sight of them, Jenna was in the lead with Michael close behind her. The others weren’t even close.

Alex got his car and took his place on the line before he heard the results. Not that it mattered. 

A blue car pulled up on the far side of the street and idled at the line. Alex took a look at the driver but the windows were too tinted for him to see. A moment later, Max and Isobel pulled in and Alex ended up looking straight at Max. The other man gave him a polite nod and then proceeded to ignore him completely.

They sat there for a few minutes as the majority of the party cleared out and headed for the finish line. It didn’t take long, the destination not that far away except for the convoluted route Alex and the others were about to take. Before he knew it, the girl with the flag was in front of them and Alex felt it. That high he’d been chasing ever since he got behind the wheel of a car he shouldn’t have when he was 17. The flag dropped and Alex blocked out everything else in the world that wasn’t this race. 

The blue car fell behind quickly. It stayed close but Alex mostly disregarded it. His focus was on Max and Isobel. The three of them stayed tight for most of the race until the last stretch when Max pulled away. Alex crossed the line behind him a fraction of a second before Isobel. It took a second after he stopped for the world to come back. He sat in his car and took a few deep breaths before getting out. By then the crowd had already swarmed the cars. Among the group near Alex’s car was Max.

Alex flipped his keys over in his hand before holding them out to Max. “Guess this is yours.”

Max looked at the keys but didn’t take them. “You’re good,” he commented idly.

“You were better,” Alex tossed back. “This time.”

Max smirked. “We don’t have a spare driver tonight. Bring it by the garage tomorrow,” he ordered softly before fading into the crowd. Alex had only a second to let out a breath before Michael was in front of him. 

“Not bad,” he teased.

“I beat Isobel,” Alex replied.

“Barely,” Michael countered.

Alex rolled his eyes. “How’d you do?”

Michael stepped in close. “I did alright.” His voice lowered and his eyes flicked to Alex’s lips. “Now I get whatever the hell I want. And I think you’re entitled to that consolation prize. If you’re interested.” Alex was interested. His body swayed towards Michael of its own volition and Alex wanted. 

The scream of police sirens reminded him that that was a bad idea. He and Michael jerked back from each other as the crowd scattered. Alex made a beeline for his car but Michael hesitated. Alex followed his eyeline to where his car sat on the far side of the clearing. There was no way he’d make it there before the cops arrived. “Get in!” He yelled. Michael turned to him with wide eyes as Alex slid behind the wheel and started the car. He didn’t move until Alex swung the car around and put his passenger door right in front of him. “Get in!” He yelled again. This time, Michael needed no further encouragement. He was in the car in seconds and Alex floored it just as police cars started to arrive in force.

Alex spent a good half an hour driving in circles to make sure they weren’t followed. The entire time, both men sat tensely, eyes on their mirrors to make sure the night wouldn’t end in handcuffs.

“Okay,” Alex finally said. He let out a long, slow breath and felt his body relax slightly. Next to him, Michael collapsed like a balloon, air whooshing out of him in relief as he sagged in his seat.

They sat quietly for another minute before Michael started laughing. Alex looked over and was surprised to see what looked like genuine joy on the man’s face. “What?” He asked.

“Take me home,” he ordered in lieu of a reply. He started giving directions without letting Alex speak and soon enough Alex was parking on the street in front of a small ramshackle house.

“You live here?” He questioned. This wasn’t the address the FBI had on file. Officially, Michael lived in a house with Max and Isobel about ten blocks over. 

Michael hummed and nodded. “It’s all mine, too.” He said it like it was something to be proud of. “You coming in?”

“I shouldn’t,” Alex replied automatically before realizing that the only reason he shouldn’t was because he was working on a case and Michael was his target. But Michael obviously couldn’t know that. He scrambled to think of a reason to say no but Michael didn’t ask.

“If you say so,” he murmured before leaning across the gear shift to cup Alex’s face. Alex tangled his fingers in the front of Michael’s shirt instinctively when the fabric brushed his hand and he didn’t pull away when Michael leaned further in.

The kiss was electric from the start. Alex had thought the race earlier gave him a high but it was nothing on the feeling he got from Michael’s lips. Michael didn’t bother to start slow or sweet; the kiss was dirty from the start and Alex was helpless to resist. After too short a while, Michael pulled back but Alex chased him, digging his fingers into his hair and pulling him back in for more.

“Fuck,” he exhaled when they finally did separate. Michael hummed and licked his lips. 

“Thanks for the save,” he told Alex before opening his door and stepping out. 

“Fuck,” Alex said again when Michael closed the door. He turned the car off and got out before Michael even reached the front door. 

[fearfulkittenwrites]

“Drake, seriously?”

“Ooooh fuck. Fuck, this is bad, fuck.” Jason exclaimed, before whispering to himself “I gotta find a way of blaming this on Red Robin, before Batman kills me.” Then it dawned on him “Oh my God he’ll kill me. Kill me!”

Or: Dick gets shot and everyone is freaking out. Inspired by that first car chase scene in 6 underground, where Two has been shot and everything is chaotic.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, pain and blood. Nothing too graphic, I promise.

Word count: 1532

Notes: So I have a lot of things that I should be doing, but instead of doing those things, I'm back on my bullshit again. I wrote this because I ramdomly remembered my mom laughing about how that scene is ridiculous, because you don't remove a bullet in a situation like that, you just stop the bleeding. Anyways, I thought it'd fill that slot in the bingo card pretty well. I hope you guys like it!

Link for it on AO3, if you prefer it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655983 

“Ooooh fuck. Fuck, this is bad, fuck.” Jason exclaimed, before whispering to himself “I gotta find a way of blaming this on Red Robin, before Batman kills me.” Then it dawned on him “Oh my God he’ll kill me. Kill me!”

“’s not thaaaat bad.” Dick looked down at the bullet wound in his shoulder.

“This is awful Nightwing, what the fuck are you talking about? You’ve been shot! You’re allowed to panic!”

“Shut up, both of you!” Damian complained “He won’t panic because he’s in shock, and let’s keep it that way.” He scowled at Jason, who was in the front seat “Nightwing, you’re bleeding, but don’t panic, I need you to cooperate with me.”

“I’m bleeding?!” Dick shouted “What the fuck happened?!”

“Way to go Damian.” Tim interviened.

“Fucking drive, Drake.” He turned to Duke, sitting next to them, looking more panicked than usual, and handed him his Robin cape “Here. Put pressure on his shoulder. He will scream. Keep pressing it.” Duke nodded “Listen,” He adressed his oldest brother “You got shot on your right shoulder and passed out after falling and hitting your head on the concrete. You’re awake now, let’s keep it that way.”

Dick shrieked in pain.

“I don’t think you have to worry about me sleeping! Fuck!” He kicked the driver’s seat involuntarily.

“Don’t fucking do that!” Tim yelled.

“Don’t yell at him, he’s in pain!” Jason yelled back.

“Do you fucking want me to crash this fucking car Jason?! Because I will crash this fucking car!”

“Don’t crash the car! It isn’t even ours!” Duke shouted from the back seat. He looked down at the wounded hero “I am so sorry about this.”

“It’s fine-AH!” He said through gritted teeth.

“I’m sure you’ve been through worse.” Damian said, pulling out whatever med equipment he had in his belt.

“Doesn’t make this any easier!” He answered “Fuck!”

“Sorry...”

“Don’t apologize, you’re keeping him alive!” Damian growled back. A shot hit the car, shattering the break lights “Fuck, they’re chasing us! I’ll have to give you stitches here and now Dick. Thomas, is he still bleeding?”

“What?!” All of them yelled.

“Shut up, I can do it! Thomas, answer me damnit!”

“A little, yes, but it’s definetly less.”

Another bullet went through the car, shattering the windshield. Damian groaned.

“Can one of the heroes in the car full of heroes do something about the guys shooting at us!?”

“Stop yelling I’m trying to drive!”

“You can’t drive if you’re dead!” Damian shouted “Red Hood, will you please get out of your fucking ass?!”

“I would, but you wouldn’t like what I’ll do!”

“I don’t care Todd, fucking do something! Thomas, move your hand, I need to stitch him up now!” The boy cut Dick’s uniform, exposing more skin.

“Fine!” Jason stuck his upper body out through the window and shot at the cars chasing them, then pulled himself back in the car “There’s too many, I can’t take them all out alone, you’re gonna have to lose them!”

“Thanks for the fucking tip, Jackass! What do you think I’ve been doing all this fucking time?!” Tim yelled, gripping the steering wheel.

“Stop yelling, I’m trying to fix him!” Damian chastised the duo. Dick screamed. Another bullet zoomed past them.

“Oh my God, I don’t wanna die!” Duke exclaimed.

“Shut up! I’m trying to do a decent suture here! You’re not the one in mortal danger!”

“Oh my God, am I in mortal danger?!” Dick shouted out.

“No!” Damian shouted back “Nobody dies under my watch!”

“Whoah, won’t you take the bullet out?” Jason asked, looking to the backseat over his shoulder. Damian and Tim looked at him as if he was the most disgusting being they had ever laid eyes on.

“Do you actively want your brother to die, Todd?!” He shouted “I’m trying to keep him from bleeding out! The bullet stays in!”

“But won’t it-.”

“It stays in!” Tim and Damian yelled at the same time.

“Fine! I just wanted to help!” He put his hands up.

Dick groaned in pain and punched the car roof.

“If you want to help then be quiet!” Another bullet flew by. They hit a speed bump, and Damian’s hand faltered on the needle, hurting Dick’s skin unnecesarily “Drake, seriously?!”

“I’m trying to stop us from getting killed!” He shouted back “I don’t have the luxury of slowing down for fucking speed bumps at the moment!”

“You’re a lousy driver!”

“You’re a fucking brat!”

“Stop arguing while I’m bleeding to death!”

“You’re not going to die!” Both of them shouted back at Dick.

“Okay, that’s twice in less than twenty minutes.” Duke said “It’s freaking me out.”

“Shut up!” Tim and Damian once again shouted simultaneously.

“Three. So fucked up...” He whispered under his breath.

“Duke, not now.” Dick said, grinding his teeth “Damian don’t you have any painkillers on you?”

“I found some ibuprofen in the glove box. It’s not much but...” Jason said, shaking a medicine box in front of them.

“Oh my God, so now we’re also stealing someone’s meds? Isn’t the car bad enough?” Duke asked.

“Seriously Duke, not now.” Dick said again. Damian reached for the box, shoving three pills in his brother’s mouth.

“Chew them, it speeds up the effects. I hope it helps.” Damian said.

“This is soooo fucked up...” He whispered one more time.

“Shut it, Thomas!” Damian growled, going back to the sutures “I’m almost done.”

“Oh, wait.” Jason said, tapping through his jacket “I have a grenade.”

The car was silent for a moment, before all of them simultaneously screamed some variation of ‘Why didn’t you think of this sooner?’.

“Shut up! I perform poorly under stress!”

“We were trained to perform under stress!” Dick shouted.

“You’re a moron!” Damian screamed.

“That’s why you fucking died!” Tim yelled.

“Low blow, asshat!” Jason pointed at him.

“Please, just throw the grenade!” Duke pleaded.

“Fine!” The Red Hood tossed it at the cars behind them, and the explosions took most of them out, but two cars were still chasing them by the time Damian was done with Dick’s sutures.

“I’m done. Tim stop the car we can handle them.” He said “Signal, I need you to stay back with Nightwing.”

“I’m fine, I can defend myself.” He picked up one of his escrima sticks.

“Fine. But if you tear open those sutures, I’m sticking my finger in the wound out of sheer spite.” He shoved his index finger at his face before kicking open the car door.

...

Bruce sighed.

“I’m gonna need you to walk me through this again.” He pinched the bridge of his nose “You acquired the flashdrive, destroyed the information, started the self destruction count down on their base, and then...” He waited for an answer yet he got four; Jason, Tim, Duke and Damian talked at the same time “Wait!” He yelled, stopping them “Jason. Go.”

“Dick got shot. It was Tim’s fault.”

“How was it my fault? You were the one who set off their alarm system!”

“You set off their alarm system?” Bruce asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“That’s not the whole story!”

“Then what is the whole story?” He crossed his arms.

“Devilspawn was distracting me.”

“Shut up, Todd. Don’t blame your incompetence on me.”

“You were trying to take the flashdrive away from me!” Jason threw his hands up “Of course I’d trip into their lasers!”

“You wanted to shove it down your pants!” Damian protested.

“Duh? No one would try to get them there.”

“So let me see if I’m getting this...” Bruce interrupted “Jason activated their alarm system after falling on top of their laser sensors because Damian was trying to stop him from putting a flashdrive in his pants?”

“Yes.”

“Correct.”

“Pretty much.”

“He’d shove it into his underwear, father.”

Bruce sighed.

“And why did Dick get shot?”

“They had guns.” Jason said.

“Yes, I understand that.” Bruce stared at him “Why was he in the crossfire?”

“The lights turned off, I couldn’t see where the shooters would be to warn them.” Duke said.

“I see. But, please, enlighten me on the reason why you threw a hand grenade on the middle of the busiest avenue in Gotham.”

“Did you want us to die?!” Tim blurted out “There were over ten cars chasing us, and Dick was bleeding out on the back seat! We should’ve done it earlier.”

“We would have done it earlier,” Damian glared at Jason “If someone wasn’t completly incompetent.”

“I’m gonna strangle you, you little rat.” He muttered.

“Try it, Todd.” The boy pulled out his sword. Jason grabbed his guns. Duke jumped in front of them.

“Okay, okay, I think we’re getting a little too heated.” He said “Look, at least everyone is alive, right? And there were some major damages to the city’s infraestructure, but no civilians were actually killed in the explosion, since they had mostly cleared out the avenue after the chase started.” He had his hands up, trying to keep the peace “I think that’s a win.”

Bruce turned around, meeting Cass, who was eating some colorful candy behind him.

“You’re sending me next time?”

“I’m sending you next time.”

[chilling-seavey]

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Ten

A/N Winter break means more time to write. Let’s see how many days in a row I can post a chapter 🥰

Daniel was elbows deep in the living room sofa when Christian came downstairs the following morning, a small pile of loose change already on the coffee table.

“Good morning, little brother.” Christian said, startling Daniel as he swung around like a deer in headlights.

“Hey.” Daniel replied, pulling out a shiny quarter from the couch cushions before diving his arm back in.

“What are you doing?”

“I need quarters.” Daniel answered, smushing his face against the couch to reach in farther, fishing around for a few more coins.

“What for?” Christian asked.

“Something.” Daniel snapped. He sighed, finally getting to his feet and he pushed the cushion back into place. “I’m gong to eat breakfast at the diner if Mum asks. I’ll see you later.” Daniel said, scooping up his pile of coins from the coffee table and headed down the hallway.

Christian narrowed his eyes in the direction of his little brother as he shut the front door behind him.

Daniel nearly floored it to Sherry’s, the wheels of the Thunderbird leaving skid marks on the street as he pulled quickly into the parking spot and jumped right out. It was barely 7:30am and he knocked impatiently on the locked restaurant door.

Jack came rushing over to let him in and then locked the door behind him again, “You owe us one. We had the closing shift and we voluntarily took the opening shift for this.”

“I know, I know. I literally owe you both my life.” Daniel said, dumping his pile of change on the front counter of the silent and empty diner.

“What’s the code to the register, Jack?” Zach asked with a tired sigh.

“0204.” Jack answered, joining him behind the counter as the register drawer opened with a loud ‘ding’.

Zach pulled out all of the quarters in the slot and Jack traded it for a few dollar bills to make up for what they were taking.

“Aren’t you gonna get in trouble for that?” Daniel asked.

“No. Still the same amount.” Jack smirked, finishing putting the bills away and then closed the drawer. Zach tossed the dozens of quarters onto the counter with Daniel’s pile and they divided the collection into three equal sections.

“We start calling at 7:45. Give it two rings and if they don’t answer then just hang up and call again until one of us gets through.” Jack instructed, checking his watch. “We have a few minutes to spare so listen up. We all have younger sisters who are all insane about this guy so we’ve gotta know some facts, right?”

“Too many facts.” Daniel nodded. “Anna’s gonna murder me if she knows I have tickets and didn’t take her.”

“Reese is kinda young, but I know the songs.” Zach said.

“We should be alright.” Jack rubbed his hands together. “My sister Ava said they’ve been asking three questions and you need to get them all correct to win the tickets; trying to see who is his ‘biggest fan’ or whatever.”

“And this is the last contest.” Daniel confirmed.

“Yep.” Jack nodded, “This is your only shot.”

“But no pressure.” Zach added.

Daniel only scoffed.

“Come on. Let’s get set up.” Jack jumped over the counter and grabbed one of the small tables from the middle of the restaurant and carried it to the back where the line of four payphones were set up against the wall. Daniel brought over the handfuls of quarters to set on the table and Zach turned on the kitchen radio so they knew when the contest was to start. The song that was playing filled the diner although it didn’t make their nervous energy any calmer, even with Daniel singing softly under his breath.

“That was Good Golly Miss Molly by Little Richard. Only good rhythm here on 96.3 to start off your morning. It’s quarter to eight and time for our final contest for your chance to win a pair of tickets to Elvis Presley’s private show in August at the Paramount Sound Stage-“

Zach shut off the radio and jumped off the counter, “Go, go, go!”

The three of them each got themselves in front of a phone and slid in the first of many quarters. They stuck to their routine, staggering their calls so one of them was always on the call while the others hung up after two rings and pushed in another quarter.

“Come on, come on.” Daniel mumbled, jamming another quarter into the pay phone and dialed the radio station like it was a number he had memorized his whole life.

“Yes!” Zach shouted almost too loudly into his receiver and looked over at his two friends. “I’m through!”

He shoved the phone at Daniel who had no choice but to grab it from him, “Hello?”

“You’re on the air with 96.3, what’s your name?”

“Daniel.”

“Well, Daniel, do you think you have what it takes to win these once-in-a-lifetime tickets?”

“Y-yeah.” Daniel said as excitedly as he could.

Jack and Zach gathered around him and they pressed their ears around the receiver to try and hear what the radio announcer was saying.

“We’ll get right to your questions then. Where was Elvis born?”

“Where was- oh! Mississippi.” Daniel answered like it was second nature.

Anna always wanted to travel to Mississippi for family vacations for the sole purpose of it being the state where her idol was born.

“That’s correct! Next question: Elvis recently bought a mansion in Tennessee. What is the name of this property?”

“Uh…” Daniel’s eyes scrunched closed in thought. “G-Graceland.”

Anna’s middle name as the name of Elvis’ property had his sister screaming about it for weeks. He’d be dumb to forget that.

“That’s correct! Last question for you, Daniel. It’s all riding on this one. What was the song that Elvis sang that is inspired about a local suicide?”

Daniel couldn’t bite back his smile as he glanced over at his two best friends who were staring at him with hopeful wide eyes. His sister went on about how Elvis had such a kind heart to sing about such things and she played that record loudly after receiving it for Christmas.

“Heartbreak Hotel.” Daniel answered coolly.

“Well, my golly, you got them all! Congratulations, Daniel! You’re going to see Elvis live at Paramount Studio Stage in August!”

[diorsho]

glimmer in the dark

bingo slot: shaky hands

words: 2.2k

paring: bakugou x reader

warnings: talks about the LOV, nightmares, and death

"I didn’t scream."

"Yes you did, and it was loud too." Y/n snickered. Bakugou frowned, worried that everyone in the dorms had heard him. 

"Whatever. I'm fine." Bakugou looked at his feet and linked his trembling fingers together. She wasn't buying it and walked over to him, sitting down next to him and lacing her own fingers together. The blond male knew her enough to know that what she was doing was meant to comfort herself. Y/N only gripped her hands like that when she was worried or scared. He looked at her before deciding he couldn't meet her eyes and went to stare at the wall instead.

"Said I'm fine. Go back to bed, it's late." He angrily clamped his hands together, small explosions from his quirk filled the silence and the minuscule light the tiny pops caused barely lit the room.

"You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me." He could hear the frown in her voice. Bakugou sighed.

"I'm not lying." She untangled her hands and put them behind her, leaning against them. Her kind eyes were on him, studying him. 

"Come on, Bakugou. I know something's up, and you're out of your damn mind if you think I'm letting this go." She let out a frustrated sigh and focused on him. He looked up and turned to face her, eyebrows raised and fists clenched until his blunt nails dug into his palm.

"Well you should cause nothin’s wrong. I'm fine." Bakugou stared at her defiantly, taking her in. She looked different than her normal, her hair was messy and she had pajamas on. Y/n never got ready for bed until she knew everyone in the dorms was doing the same. The sight of her in comfortable clothes made his cheeks heat up and Bakugou hated that he was affected by her presence. He even thought she looked somewhat pretty. 

Bakugou could faintly see the ends of her wet hair, signaling she had taken a shower not too long ago. He could see a faint blush dusting her cheeks as well. He didn't know why but there was something about her that just drew him in. She was always calm and patient with him but also didn’t put up with his shit. Bakugou never thought that this would happen. He didn’t do feelings or relationships. Kirishima and Kaminari would have a field day with this if they ever found out about his little crush.

"Bakugou, please tell me. I know something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes," she pleaded, tiredness dripping from her voice like honey. “And I know it’s hurting you and causing nightmares.” Bakugou ran his hands through his hair in annoyance. She got up from her spot and sat on her knees in front of him, placing her hands on his knees.

"Katsuki, look at me." He couldn't bring himself to look at her eyes, the use of his first name from her not even bothering him. He wanted to look at her but he couldn’t lift his head. Bakugou didn’t wanna seem weak—especially in front of her—but he also knew that he didn’t wanna be scared anymore. "Please. I'm here to help you, and I'm not leaving here until I do." Bakugou raised his head and swore his hands shook more at her close proximity. She tilted her head to the side and moved her legs to get comfortable on the floor. "Katsuki, let me in." She reached for his hands, "I want to help." He let her grab at his warm hands and she smiled and squeezed them to stop his trembling fingers. "Thank you, now please tell me what happened. What happened in your dream Katsuki?" She moved closer, her sweet shampoo flooded his nose. Bakugou huffed and released her hands, inching closer to her by dropping on the ground beside her. Y/N let her hands fall and watched him move.  Bakugou leaned against his bed while crossing his legs. She followed his actions, mimicking his posture. He reached for her hand this time, and she smiled at their intertwined fingers. 

"It was a bad dream." Bakugou said simply. His head hung slightly.

"What happened?" she asked, straight to the point like always.

"I keep reliving that night where those bastards kidnapped me at the camp. I can’t do anything," he sighed heavily and felt her squeeze his hands.

"Katsuki–"

"And then I’m at their hideout and those fucking lowlifes talk about how they want me to join their shitty league." Bakugou was the one who tightened his hold on Y/N’s hands now. If it hurt she didn’t say anything but that only meant he gripped her fingers tighter. "They ask me to help them kill All Might," he inhaled carefully, suppressing the lump in his throat. Bakugou couldn't cry in front of her.

"Katsuki, listen to me–" He interrupted her again.

"No, what do you not get! I’ve been having these nightmares for weeks and they’ve only gotten worse." He was practically yelling at her. “That stupid fucking prick thought I would help them cause my quirk, because he thought that I was evil.” She flinched slightly at his words but didn't move. The incident that happened almost two months ago was still as fresh as a gaping wound. The words seemed to pour out of him. “What would have happened if you guys didn’t show? What if you dumbasses got caught and I was the reason all of us, including All Might, died? What if he died because I wasn’t strong enough.” Y/n squeezed Bakugou’s hand before dropping it before kneeling in front of his crossed legs. She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. Bakugou’s cheeks seemed to burn in her cool hands.

"I get it, Katsuki. But listen to me, please," she pleaded. "Katsuki," she let out a breath, and rubbed his temples slowly with her thumbs. "It was just a dream. Nobody died and everything worked out. You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe now. You can't let this get to you otherwise Shigaraki wins." Bakugou tried to hold onto her words as she moved pieces of hair behind his flushed ear. “I’m right here, Katsuki. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” Bakugou’s eyes closed almost involuntarily as her words washed over him. It was everything he wanted to hear but was too scared to ask for. He let out a shaky breath as she lightly traced his cheeks with the tips of her fingers.

Bakugou blindly reached his hands behind her and pulled her to him. Y/n toppled on top of him completely but she regained herself. He was hugging her. She moved her arms to rest on the back of his neck. The pair laid against his bed as she moved to straddle him, to get more comfortable in the tangle of shaky limbs. He pushed her body to rest against his, nearly desperate to have her closer. The moment between the two was innocent as Bakugou took comfort in her warmth. He let his hands rest on her waist, gently gripping her, pulling her as close as he could. Head buried in the crook of her neck and she ran her fingers through his hair. His nose brushed against her neck and he felt her shiver at the ticklish feeling. 

"Katsuki, please don't shut me out. I wanna be there for you no matter what,” she whispered, still threading her hands through his hair. He took a shuddering breath, suppressing his sob by biting his lip. The tears still flowed down his cheeks, dampening her shirt but she didn’t seem to mind. Y/n tightened her hold as much as she could. "You'll get through this. I promise. With everyone on your side, with me beside you. I know you’ll get through this." They stayed like this for a while, just holding each other in silence. Bakugou’s hands were no longer shaking as he clutched onto her.

A small thank you could be heard from the boy as he reluctantly let her go. His head hung and he wiped his face roughly against the back of his hand. She let her hands fall to the tops of her thighs and touched his hip lightly. He lifted his head, the white of his eyes were red but he seemed to be a bit better. She smiled at him and he rolled his eyes but still smiled softly.

"You're welcome." Y/N smiled sweetly on his lap. He wiped his hands on his pants and blushed at their position. She seemed to realize that she was still in his lap and coughed before moving off of him to sit on the floor. Bakugou stood up, suddenly embarrassed about how he acted. He looked down at her and offered his hand to help her up. The male saw her eyes glimmer as she took his larger hand in her smaller one. Despite holding her hand many times since she had come into his bedroom, the small act made Bakugou’s heart speed up. She let her hand stay in his as she rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. "Are you okay?" Y/n pushed some fallen pieces of hair behind her ear with her free hand.

"Yeah,” Bakugou whispered. She nodded and let his hand fall from hers. He stared at it for a moment, tempted to grab it again.

"Then my job here is done. Goodnight." She rocked back on her heels once like she didn’t quite want to leave him alone. Bakugou could read her so easily. It was like she was an open book. He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for her to say anything else. She didn’t. He watched as Y/N turned and began walking towards his door and Bakugou felt his heart drop. 

"Wait," he called for her and she turned around quickly, head tilting in curiosity. She hummed in response. "I don't think... I don’t think I wanna be alone right now." She stifled a laugh behind her hand as he blushed in embarrassment. “Can you please stay with me?”

"Katsuki, there's only one bed." Her voice was serious but her cheeks betrayed her.

"I know, it's just I'm–" He was starting to regret his earlier words as his heartbeat seemed to be in his throat.

"I’m joking. I’ll stay, don't get your panties in a twist." She scratched the back of her neck and put her other hand in her pocket awkwardly standing by his door.

"I'm not stupid, it's just... You're you and there are the dumb rules." He tangled his fingers together, gripping his own hands so as to not show his own nervousness.

“Are you trying to insult me now?" she asked. He could make out a tiny smirk in the darkness of his room.

"No but if you’re gonna be annoying about it then just forget I asked." He knew he didn’t mean it. Bakugou knew that if she left right now he wouldn’t get back to sleep. He would just stare at the ceiling and wait until the sun rose. She seemed to know that too because she quietly laughed at him.

"I'm just messing with you!" She walked over to his bed to sit down. Bakugou was confused but then was shocked as he watched her get comfortable on his bed. She giggled and smiled at his unmoving form. He sighed and sat on the edge bed of his bed. “Plus, I don’t care about the rules. I care about you.” He inhaled sharply at her words and she reached for him blindly. Bakugou allowed himself to fall into her grasp.

"Lay down, I won’t bite." She smiled and scooted to the side of the bed closest to the wall to give him more room. Bakugou soon followed after her in the darkness, slightly unnerved that he was in bed with a girl. The pair stared at the ceiling until she sat up to grab the blanket that was thrown near the bottom of his bed to cover both of their bodies. Y/N wrapped her arm around him and sighed softly. 

Bakugou’s body grew rigid as he felt her arm lay against his stomach. He had never been this close with anyone when it came to sleeping. Why was he suddenly so nervous? Sweat gathered in his palms and he worried that he would accidentally activate his quirk. His body tensed again when she rested her head in the crook of his neck like he had done earlier. Bakugou let out a breath in hopes of calming himself.

"Relax," she mumbled into his shirt. He closed his eyes before moving his arm around her to hug her closer as she snuggled into his side. In the passing minutes and the small circles she was tracing on his chest, Bakugou found himself melting into her. His eyes grew heavy with sleep as he struggled to stay awake. 

It wasn’t because he was scared of the nightmares returning, but because he wanted to hold her in his arms for just a little longer.

Sleep won in his tired mind. He fought the lull that accompanied the quiet drift but found that sleep was too tempting. Right before he was completely gone he felt the girl in his arms lightly kiss his chest. “Goodnight, Katsuki. Sweet dreams,” Y/N whispered and he could only hum in return.

~~~

taglist: | @bnhabookclub |

masterlist | bingo masterlist | kofi 

[lilhemmo]

Hiii! I just found your blog recently and some of the vegeta x reader and as much as I love vegeta, could you do one with Goku & reader? That big dork is my favorite! I’d not very creative with requests so honestly anything that is just cute and dorky would be amazing. I dunno if it’s weird to ask because Goku is married but 🥺

a/n: never feel weird to ask for goku because, let’s be real, vegeta is married and none of us feel bad for reading about him when we know bulma would come for us if she knew!! i hope this does your thoughts justice!! please feel free to request more goku x reader if you like this one! my goku is nowhere near perfect, not like @thegodbucky goku but.. i’ll try! bless this himbo! 

also, this gif dOES THINGS TO MY SOUL 

“Hah hah! I got ya’, Vegeta!” Goku falls back from where he’s hovering in the air, sweat and blood sticking to his body. 

Vegeta snarls, “Oh shut up, Kakarot! I only let you win so we could eat.”

You’re watching from the balcony, lounged out with Bulma to your left and Whis to your right. There is a small platter of food on either side of you that you’re sharing with the two of them, along with a couple of drinks to choose from.

“As if Vegeta would let Goku get a hit in just over a slab of meat,” Bulma chuckles, closing her lips around a pork skewer.

The two Saiyans are in front of you now, and the sight of Goku with bruises and blood and sweat makes your knees weak, so you’re thankful that you’re sitting down. Vegeta scoffs, “Hush, woman! Where’s lunch?”

Bulma points to the table off to the side filled to the brim with platters of grilled meats and rice bowls. Vegeta and Goku surge the table, barely sat down before they’re stuffing their faces. You watch the Saiyan in the bright orange gi, taking in his physique - the contours and dips of his muscles are easy to see even through his fighting gear. Your mind wanders into a land where his body is yours to touch and to roam, but you’re broken out of it when Bulma nudges you in the ribs.

“I know that look,” she winks, “you like him.”

Your face goes beet red instantly as you try to talk your way out of it. However, your anxiety gets the better of you and you find you’re only making a fool of yourself, so you tuck your head into your palms and try to ride out the embarrassment instead.

“He is available, you know.” Bulma crosses her legs at the ankle, nonchalantly tossing a glance towards the table, “if you were interested.”

Whis and Bulma share a giggle at your expense, their hands over their mouths as they try to stifle the laughter so the others don’t hear.

“What’s so funny?” Vegeta scowls. 

 Whis uses his staff to point in your direction, “This little one finds Goku attractive. She would like for him to use his mouth and hands to-ooh my.” 

The angel looks you in the eyes and raises his brows, “Oh wow, you do have quite the imagination, little earthling.” 

You swat at Whis, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to hush him. Vegeta smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, but Goku looks at clueless as ever. He looks down at his hands, examining them as if they might explain to him just exactly what Whis was talking about.

A low grumble parts your lips and you turn your hands to fists, “Well, whatever!” You’re storming off the balcony and towards the lake before anyone can make sense of what’s going on. Your face is bright pink at the fact that your secret was outed before you ever got the chance to come to terms with it yourself. You know that Chi Chi and Goku went their separate ways years ago, but the comparison games you play with her still run circles in your brain.

You’re ankle deep in the lake, your eyes tracking the ripples your feet make as you shift around. You wonder if you could just let this body of water swallow you whole so you never have to face Goku or Vegeta or Bulma or even Whis ever again.

You pluck a stone from the lakebed, tossing it across the top of the water, watching as it skips a few times before sinking back to where you found it.

“Uh, hey-”

You squeal and fall backwards into the water, your backside completely soaked now.Your face burns again with embarrassment when you recognize the person the voice belongs to.

“Oh Kami, I am so sorry!” Goku rushes to your side, kneeling in the lake despite still wearing his full fighting getup. You shrink away, hiding behind your hands even as he grabs for you to help you up. The fighter chuckles, running his hands over your biceps, “C’mon, let’s get you out of the water and dried off.”

You’re almost in tears from the mortification of the whole scene alone. You swear you must look like a child to him, all curled in on yourself and blushing, tears threatening your eyes with glassiness.

Goku walks you towards the small table and chairs that are situated near the lake, a few beach towels stored in a small box just under the table for situations like this. He removes a towel and pats your legs dry, but once he gets to your ass, he hesitates, “I-uh, I think I’ll let you do that part by yourself, aha!”

You take the towel from his hands and wrap it around your waist, plopping into one of the chairs so it’ll soak up most of the water on your behind. You hear a loud squishing sound and it only adds to your humiliation.

He waits another moment before squatting in front of you, balancing himself with his palms on your knees, “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you manage through your bashfulness. “I’m sorry, I just got startled.”

Goku shakes his head, “No, I shouldn’t have scared you like that, that’s my bad.”

You reach out to cover his palms in your own, apologies tumbling from your lips at the same time he asks, “What was Whis talking about? He said you were thinking about me?”

The burning returns behind your eyes and on your cheeks and ears. You sigh, shaking your head as you bow so he cannot see the tears in your eyes. Goku tilts your chin with his thumb, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I-I think you’re cute, that’s what’s wrong! And now everyone knows it!” The first tear slips down your cheek at your admission and you hate that you’re crying over this. How stupid are you!? Surely, he thinks you’re an idiot. The little laugh that rumbles in his chest does nothing to satiate the desire to be accepted that blooms in your belly.

“See,” you roll your eyes and tear your eyes away from him, watching the sunset in the distance.

Goku shakes his head and presses his hand to your cheek, bringing your attention back to him, “No, you’re just adorable when you’re flustered.”

“A-Adorable?” You blink a few times to bring yourself back to reality, “Y-You think-”

“I think you’re cute too,” he speaks softly, eyeing you from where he’s crouched. His one hand is cupped behind your calf, the other falling to your neck so he can keep your gaze on him, “Is that what Whis was talking about?”

You smile, “Yes and no.”

“He said something about my hands and my mouth - is that what you’re so embarrassed about?” Goku’s thumb is brushing circles into the skin of your leg and you find it very distracting. He tilts his head, “D-Do you know what he was talking about?”

“I want you to kiss me,” you admit after a long pause. You sigh, “B-But I know that-oh!”

Goku’s mouth is on yours as he surges up from his kneeled position. He cups your cheeks and you find your hands curled around the fabric of his fighting clothes. Your lips are slotted against his perfectly, your teeth knock against one another as he sloppily kisses you.

He pulls away with a soft sound and you can’t force your eyelids open just yet, your mouth trying to follow his because you’re not ready for the kiss to end. Goku chuckles and his thumb presses to your bottom lip, running over the supple skin as your eyes glaze over at the sight of him.

“I asked Vegeta and he finally told me what kissing was!” Goku tugs you to your feet, “I never did it before, but I figured you might like it.”

“S-So does this mean-” You cut yourself off, unable to finish the question only because you’re scared of the answer.

Goku nods, “I like you, if that’s what you mean.”

Your jaw drops but you catch yourself, launching your body forward to topple him to the ground. He catches you with his hands holding you firmly by the waist so you don’t hurt yourself. Your mouth is latched to his, hands against his shoulders so you can grip him firmly.

Goku settles you against his waist, returning the affection as his lips maneuver with yours, the warmth flowing from your mouth to your belly. You allow one hand to slot into the hair at the base of his neck, the feel of his super form buzzing against your fingertips as his hair threatens to glow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” you pant, pulling away from him to look him in the eyes. You smile, your inhibitions gone after he admitting to reciprocating your feelings, “I’m glad that you feel the same way.”

Goku tilts his head and it makes him look like a confused animal. You giggle at the motion and he asks you a question you’re not ready to answer: “S-So, what exactly am I supposed to do with my hands?”

You kiss him firmly on the lips, “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Aw, but I wanna know now!”

feel free to ask me more saiyan requests :)