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dyns33 · 4 months

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The way to communicate

Being a while since I did a Din Djarin x female reader.

It was rare for Din Djarin to get angry.

It's hard to say if it was because of his creed or if it was in his temperament, but he did his best to always keep his cool.

Becoming the father of a little green gremlin who had a hobby of getting into mischief probably forced him to be even more patient than he was before finding the kid, or meeting Y/N.

Even when the little one put himself in danger, Din didn't scream. Maybe he knew it wouldn't have any effect on Grogu, but he gently picked him up, using an equally gentle voice to scold him.

“I already told you not to do that.” he often sighed, patting the child's head. "You know you risk choking if you swallow a whole frog. Especially since you've already had two meals, you're not hungry."

“Gah !”

"No."

Y/N watched the scene with sparkling eyes and trying to hide her smile, because a great Mandalorian warrior, no matter how patient, probably wouldn't like to be thought of as adorable. He was supposed to be scary and awesome.

When he was with Grogu, Din Djarin wasn't scary at all. He didn't scream when the little one drew on the walls, or hid in a corner, or played with the buttons. Never.

Of course, it wasn't the same with enemies or bounties. He didn't like killing, he would avoid it if possible, but he had no problem accomplishing his mission without the slightest remorse. It was the Way.

Honor, strength, and protection of his clan were his priorities. As he was patient, Din was discreet. A man of few words, preferring actions.

Because of this, Y/N wasn’t sure where she stood in relation to his family. After she helped him find a former Empire general, while risking her life to protect his son, they had stayed together.

At first, Din had considered himself indebted to her. Then, he offered her a job, seeing that she took good care of Grogu when he was absent and that she had some knowledge of mechanics, very useful when the ship had some problems.

But could she consider herself a member of the clan ? Y/N wasn’t sure.

It would have been easy to ask the Mandalorian directly. He would then have clearly answered whether he saw her as a member, or as just a flying partner who took care of his child.

Asking the question directly meant taking the risk of having to face reality and accept the possibility that she wasn't as important to Din as he and Grogu were to her.

She therefore preferred to say nothing and take advantage of the time offered to her with them, experiencing many adventures, as well as wonderful moments.

Until the announcement.

"There are no new contracts at the moment and Grogu needs some rest, so we'll head back home to Nevarro."

"Oh. Okay. I'll probably go to Coruscant then. You can contact me if necessary." Y/N said without looking at him, continuing to play with the kid.

"… I'll drop you off."

The silence in the ship grew colder than calm as they headed toward Coruscant.

Rather than wait to get there, Din decreed that it was necessary to make several stops to buy supplies, check that they had enough energy, that the engine had no problems, and lots of small details that wasted their time unnecessarily.

"We could do all of this on Coruscant. It's not that far."

“I don’t want to take a risk.”

"But we checked everything before the last mission and…"

“I said we were stopping for water !” the Mandalorian then repeated with a loud voice and violently placing his hands on the dashboard.

This made Y/N jump, but also Grogu, who stared at his father with wide eyes, full of surprise and fear. Visibly ashamed of his reaction, Din sighed before muttering that he needed to cool off, leaving them alone in the cockpit.

Things didn't get better when they arrived in Mos Eisley. Not really wanting to stay idle, Y/N took advantage of the little one's nap to go for a walk in the market, while Din chatted with Peli.

She didn't want to go to Coruscant at all and all these stops might have been a blessing, but like with a bandage, she knew it would be better to leave right away rather than torture herself like this.

It was normal that the clan wanted to go home to rest. It was normal that she wasn't invited since she wasn't part of the clan.

What was less normal was Din's behavior, who seemed to avoid her as much as possible and be tense whenever they were in the same room. He had no reason to be angry with her, who continued to work normally despite her sadness.

The situation was also complicated for Grogu, who felt that something was wrong between the two adults. The poor kid ate less, sticking to Y/N every chance he got. It was almost impossible to get him off.

So Y/N wanted to take advantage of this little moment alone to get out of the ship and clear her head.

She didn't expect to be caught by bounty hunters who had spotted the Mandalorian's arrival. Despite Moff Gideon's death, there were still some people who wanted Din Djarin's head.

Since he was training Grogu to be a fighter, Din had also shown her some techniques, so she could defend herself if needed. Although he always added that it wouldn't be necessary, since he would be there to protect her.

Fighting a nice Mandalorian who held back his punches was one thing. Trying to do the same thing with three guys who didn't care about hurting her was something else.

Fortunately for Y/N, when she had just taken a blow to the nose which had made her fall to the ground and the leader of the gang approached to pick her up, Din arrived at that moment, quickly shooting the brigands without missing a target.

He then ran to pick Y/N up and take her back to the ship to tend to her injuries. Wanting to help when he saw her bleeding, the kid used his powers before his father had time to grab the first aid kit.

The panic subsided, a long silence returned, only broken by the little noises of Grogu asking to be carried by Y/N. But when she moved to lean towards him, the Mandalorian spoke.

"What possessed you to leave alone ? Without a word, without saying where you were going ? You were lucky that I noticed your absence and went looking for you."

"I didn't think I needed permission. And I didn't ask to be attacked."

"That's not what I said. But you could have gotten kidnapped ! You could have died ! Why didn't you tell me you were leaving ?! I thought… I thought that you left us. That you had gone to find another means of transportation to Coruscant."

“Why would I do that, since you’re taking me there ?”

“Don’t pretend to be stupid !” Din then shouted, pointing at her, almost scaring her.

The gesture probably scared Grogu more than her, who knew he was going to do nothing but scream like an idiot, but something happened that they would have thought impossible.

With his powers, the child pushed his father against the wall of the ship, as far away from Y/N as possible, then he jumped on her knees, clinging to her while moaning in fear.

The two adults remained frozen. Even though she couldn't see his face, Y/N could guess Din's shocked and hurt look, who understood that his son had thought he was capable of hurting the one he seemed to consider his mother. He saw fear in Grogu's eyes.

"No, I… I shouldn't have shouted." he whispered as he sat on the ground, lowering his head in shame. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I know you weren't going to do anything."

“Obviously he doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t like shouting.” Y/N said, stroking Grogu’s head to comfort him. "He doesn't like arguments. We should go to Coruscant quickly, it would be better for everyone."

“You really want to leave us so quickly ?”

Din's voice almost broke at the end of his sentence. Y/n stared at him, but he didn't raise his head to look back at her, thus not seeing that she didn't understand his question.

"… You're the one who wants me to leave. So you can return to your home to Nevarro."

"… I meant our home. Grogu, you and me. I thought… I thought you understood, Cyare, but you rejected the invitation. I thought I misunderstood and that you didn't want to to be part of our clan."

“You mean… I’m part of the clan ?”

"Of course." the Mandalorian whispered, finally looking at her. "Mesh'la, we have traveled together for so long. We fight together. We raise Grogu together. I know our customs are different, and we haven't taken our vows yet, but…"

"Our vows ?!"

"… Yes. I've been courting you for a while. You accepted the gifts. You train with me. You let me kiss you. I didn't think it wasn't clear. Forgive me, cyare, I shouldn't have had any illusions."

Words were less important than actions to the Mandalorians, even if they had certain songs and rites. Y/N totally didn't understand that receiving a weapon and touching the helmet with your forehead had special meanings, and Din hadn't told her that.

In his corner, Grogu had only understood that his parents loved each other, because that was obvious, and they just needed to be together to be happy. The rest didn't matter.

All it would have taken was for Din to take them back to Nevarro without opening his mouth, and Y/N would have been surprised but delighted to be welcomed into their little home. Instead, he had tried to communicate, and it had been a disaster.

Now the son was afraid, trembling against Y/N who was processing the fact that Din had been thinking about marrying her for some time, until he realized that he had done everything wrong.

He had yelled at his clan, even if it was because he was afraid of losing Y/N. He hadn't known how to protect them properly. He was covered with shame.

"I don't want to go to Coruscant."

Since he didn't move, too busy determining if he had poked his head by being thrown by the Force, Y/N slowly got up, keeping Grogu close to her, to join him on the ground.

"I was disappointed that you didn't ask me to come. It wasn't clear to me that I was part of the clan, but it was my dearest wish. To stay with you and the little one. If you still want of me…"

“Cyare !” Din sighed, taking her hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Bah ga ba !”

Grogu stirred then, patting his father's hand insistently so that he let go of Y/N's, his large eyes piercing the Mandalorian's berskar.

"... I have already apologized."

“Pato !”

"… I'm sorry for scaring you, and for yelling at Y/N. I won't do it again. I will never hurt any of you. And I'll make sure there are no misunderstandings before drawing conclusions."

“Aaaaaaaah.” was Grogu's response, who smiled again, holding out his arms to be picked up by Din, who complied without hesitation.

This made his parents laugh. They hadn't laughed in a long time.

The ship's coordinates were changed to go directly to Nevarro. No need to make any more unnecessary detours, since all the stops they had made so far were useless. Din was only trying to buy time, not knowing how to get Y/N to stay.

“So, you talked about vows ?” she said shyly as they landed, the kid sleeping on top of her.

"Later, Mesh'la. My request wasn't very romantic."

“Mandalorians worry about romance ?”

"No. But I imagine it will please you."

Y/N could have said she didn’t need all this. Knowing that he saw her as a member of his clan, as the mother of his son, was enough. But she didn't want another misunderstanding that might hurt Din, and she would be happy to be his wife, so she just nodded.

There was no more arguing, no more shouting. Not even when Grogu swallowed the ring that Din had the Armorer make. He simply sat down in a corner, grunting while tapping his helmet, while the little one hiccupped, regretting having eaten the little shiny circle.

“We can get it back in a few days.”

"No."

“We’ll clean it up.”

"Cyare, there's no way I'm giving you a gift that was eaten by the kid and which passed… Hmm !"

Luckily, the ring was spat out, but it took a while for Din to agree to take it back, and then officially offer it to Y/N. He insisted on going to Mandalore to purify it in the waters, while announcing to his peers that he would soon have a riduur.

He didn't bring Y/N and Grogu with him on this trip. The little one was too tired, and someone had to watch over him.

“Karga could have kept him.” Y/N remarked when Din had returned.

"He would have ended up losing his mind after Grogu destroyed everything in his office. I don't think the kid would have liked to be left alone either. Besides…"

"What ?"

"You are beautiful, Mesh'la. Some Mandalorians might have wanted to take you. I would have had to fight and kill them to prove that you are mine. I preferred to avoid that."

It sounded ridiculous, but he said it very seriously, his tone quickly becoming dry and somber.

Din Djarin did not often get angry, except when it concerned the protection of his clan, when someone tried to hurt them or take them from him. He hid his anger and jealousy beneath his armor, but it was there, ready to come out against those who had the audacity to confront him.

But never against Y/N and Grogu. Only for them.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction

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hauntedestheart · 7 months

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Transcript: "You Know The Face" Episode 47 - Blaise Gigson

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and resemblance to any real life persons is completely intentional, lol, but to spare the virgin eyes of the search algorithm I changed the name.

[Theme tune plays]

Arsenio: Hey there listeners, welcome back to "You Know The Face," the best podcast out there devoted to discussing the great changes that The Great Shift brought about.

Arsenio: As always, I'm your host Arsenio Braxton, still here and still me, and for this episode I'm by a very special guest- you might know the face, Blaise Gigson is here in the studio! Hi Blaise, welcome to the pod.

Blaise: Hey Arsenio! Thanks having me, I'm a huge fan of the show. This podcast is like, the soundtrack to my morning runs.

Arsenio: Oh my god, dude, I'm blushing! You've been one of our most requested guests for a while now so it's such a pleasure to finally have you here in the studio with us. And I want to let the listeners at home know, this guy is even bigger in person.

Blaise: Okay, now you're making me blush. I'll admit it, I always do fifty pushups before getting on camera just to make sure I look my best- does that make me sound weird?

Arsenio: I mean, it's healthier than my pre-show ritual, which is just a Red Bull and a shot of vodka. Now I'm gonna be calling you Blaise, but that wasn't the name you were born with, right?

Blaise: Yup, just like most people I was shifted into this body.

Arsenio: BUT, unlike most people, after the shift you decided to adopt the name of the original owner of that body. What inspired you to make that choice?

Blaise: Well I flipped a coin and- nah, I'm just joking. How do I explain this... the shift changed everything, you know? Not just our bodies, but the whole world. I don't really think that any of us are who we used to be, even the people who didn't shift, so taking on a new name just felt natural. Plus I think I'm kind of a special case since I swapped into a celebrity- I get recognized all the time, every day people come up to me on the street and call me "Blaise," so I figured I might as well just embrace that.

Arsenio: Oh that's true, I never thought of it like that. See, that's what I love about doing this show- getting all of these different perspectives. A lot of the people I talk to on this pod mention that they try stay connected to who they were before the shift, but it sounds like you're just full steam ahead. You very famously don't like to talk about who you were before at all, is that right?

Blaise: Nah, not really. A lot of people think that means I was a criminal or something and I'd like to say for the record that I was not, but I don't like to sweat the small things like who I used to be. I'm just focused on who I am today! And I think I make a pretty good Blaise Gigson, don't you?

Arsenio: Absolutely, man, you're crushing it. But I gotta ask, has the real Blaise Gigson tried to get in contact with you?"

Blaise: Try, like, eight Blaise Gigsons. That's the thing about swapping with a celebrity- there's a lot of creeps out there who were obsessed with you that think about this as their chance to get in on the action. Since it was impossible to figure out who was telling the truth, I had to just block all of them. For safety reasons.

Arsenio: Oh, so you don't talk to any of them? But aren't you worried you might be shutting out the real Blaise?

Blaise: Well, wherever he is he can rest easy knowing that I'm taking good care of his body. If you're out there watching Blaise, this one's for you!

Arsenio: Oh, and there it is! The famous bicep. Would you mind doing it again, just for me?

Blaise: Mind? I'd love to, these things are awesome.

Arsenio: No arguments here... actually, let's pivot and talk about that for a second. Now, we all knew that Blaise Gigson was a hottie with a body, but you've sexed up his image a lot since assuming the reigns. I'm sure most of our listeners have probably seen a certain viral video-

Blaise: The workout stream, yeah.

Arsenio: Dude. you broke the internet with that one! Seeing you all hot and sweaty, flexing all those muscles on the floor... pretty iconic if you ask me. Can one of the producers insert the clip here?

Arsenio: Damn daddy! Sorry, I shouldn't be thirsting over you while you're right here in front of me, they're gonna have to edit this part out or else before get cancelled haha.

Blaise: Nah, don't sweat it man. Trust me, no one gets it more than I do- you think looking at this body is great? Try living in it. Like, I'll admit it, I get turned on watching those clips too. I look fucking hot there.

Arsenio: So I think it's safe to say the "himboification" of the Blaise Gigson brand was a conscious decision on your part?

Blaise: Honestly? A little bit yes, a little bit no. I mean, it wasn't something I planned on when I first got this body, it just kind of happened. Like one day I just woke up and I was a famous hunk... of course I was gonna get a little wild, right? I couldn't resist showing off a bit. At first I was worried that I was going a bit overboard but people have really been responding to it.

Arsenio: Yeah I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who "responded" to that video, if you catch my drift.

Blaise: I hope so! I mean, think about it. When I was just a nobody sitting at home I would have killed to see my celebrity crushes take their clothes off and just, I don't know, start slutting it up. And so now that I am one of those guys I used to dream about, I wanna make that fantasy a reality for everybody else.

Blaise: Like, come on, don't the people deserve to see all of this?

Arsenio: I completely agree. Actually, could we see a little bit more, for the camera? Or even just for me?

Blaise: Haha, maybe later.

Arsenio: Alright, I'm gonna hold you to that. But we should probably get moving or else this episode is gonna wind up being four hours, haha. As the listeners know, I started this podcast because I was one of the few people not affected by The Great Shift, so I'm always fascinated by the stories of people who were. Let's get yours Blaise- can you walk us through your shift experience? What was it like for you that first morning?

Blaise: The thing I'll always remember about waking up was the weight. Being in a body like this one that's built like a tank, that's a lot of muscle, and muscle is one of the heaviest things in the body. I knew something was different before I even opened my eyes because I could feel how much space I was occupying. And that kinda freaked me out!

Blaise: But all of that weight is actually strength, and the second I started moving I knew that whatever had happened to me was a good thing.

Blaise: I'll never forget this- the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes and looked down was this giant chest blocking my view. I was so confused I tried like, wipe them off because I thought they were something stuck to me, but nope! I just had massive pecs all of the sudden. And then I got distracted just, like, squeezing them.

Arsenio: That's so funny- I hear that exact same story all the time, but from shifted women. I think you're the first guy to have the classic "boob grab" experience, haha!

Blaise: Hey, it's a classic for a reason! I say when you've got tits like these, you give 'em a squeeze. But I realized pretty quickly that there was a whole body underneath my chest, and that... woof. I was actually confused at first because I'd never touched a six-pack before so I was like "what the fuck is going on with my stomach" when I first felt it- I wasn't used to my body being so hard.

Blaise: The new core strength was incredible too- like, just sitting up felt better than it ever had before. And when I sat up and the blankets slid off of me and I saw my new body for the first time, I was shocked. I'd never seen someone with that many muscles in my life, and suddenly I had the best seat in the house. And by "best seat," I mean I had a dump truck ass.

Arsenio: Sounds like you were in bed for a minute then.

Blaise: A minute? Try two hours. I was alone with the body of my dreams and I could do anything with it, so I- well, you can probably guess what I did next.

Arsenio: I bet I can and I would love to hear about it, maybe even see a demonstration, but I think we should move on before we get demonetized. When you finally got out of bed, did you recognize yourself when you looked in the mirror?

Blaise: Recognize myself? Dude, I basically creamed myself. Blaise was one of my biggest celebrity crushes and seeing that face staring back at me from the mirror... just, words can't even describe it. Having all of this body and the face to match? The beard? This jawline? These lips? I'm handsome as fuck.

Arsenio: Dude, I'm so jealous right now you have no idea. So you weren't scared that you'd woken up in a completely new body?

Blaise: I mean, I was confused, but I thought it was just me, you know? I thought it was some kind of Freaky Friday situation and I'd just been zapped into this body so like, he could learn a lesson about the meaning of Christmas or something. I didn't learn about the shift until later.

Arsenio: And then did you freak?

Blaise: Nah. I feel selfish when I say that because I know how scared so many people are, and I feel for them I really do, but I was excited. I wasn't really thinking about anybody else, I was just excited to be Blaise.

Arsenio: And so we're heading on over a year since the shift- how are you settling in to your new body? It's quite an impressive physique and you've maintained it well.

Blaise: Thanks- keeping up with the gym routine was definitely one of my top priorities. Letting a body like this go to waste would have been a tragedy.

Blaise: But to answer your question, I'm still not entirely used to this body yet, and honestly, I hope I never am. It's fun always feeling surprised, you know? I'll just be going about my day and then I'll catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and remember that holy shit, I'm a fucking stud, and I get excited all over again. It hits me at the strangest times.

Blaise: Muscles are cool because they're like... they're always there, you know? I get a little show every time I look down. And the thing about it is- I'm not bragging, this is just a fact -I'm so ripped now that a bit of bulging is inescapable. People are always saying that I'm a tease but half the time I don't even realize that I'm doing it, it's just a side effect of existing while being this hot.

Arsenio: Damn, and here I thought you were doing this especially for me. Well, it's nice to see that fame hasn't gone to your head!

Blaise: Haha, I mean, when the head looks this good, I can afford it!

Arsenio: I can't argue with that, that is one big beautiful head you've got there. Blaise really is just a stunning man.

Blaise: Aren't I? It's great. I was kinda nervous when I started being active on Blaise's accounts because at first I felt like I was impostor or something like that, but I knew I had to keep posting because people deserved to see this face. I get a lot of hate comments from people saying "you shouldn't be doing this" and stuff like that, but I block them out and focus on the positive ones. There's a lot more of those anyways.

Blaise: It sounds shallow but like, as a hot guy, I hold a lot of power. I've been on the other side of the screen, looking through it at those gorgeous faces, so I'm very aware what an important escape a bit of thirst content can be. Now that I have this face, this body, I can make so many people happy just by taking some clothes off and posting a picture. Why wouldn't I want to do that?

Blaise: That's why the content shifted. Less comedy videos, more thirst, workout videos, photoshoots- the stuff people really wanted to see all along. I love sharing the gift of this body with the world.

Blaise: I don't take anything for granted anymore, I live my life to the fullest, and I want to invite all of my followers into that. Especially after everything the world has been through since the shift, I want people to be able to open up their phone, see this sexy smile, and know that it's possible to still be happy. That there's still beauty in the world.

Arsenio: Oh my god, Blaise, I didn't expect us to be getting so deep on this episode.

Blaise: Hey, I'm more than just a pretty face... I've got a great ass too.

Arsenio: That you do, Blaise, that you do. So, Blaise, let's lighten the mood a bit and jump to one of our listener's favorite sections- and if you've listened to the show before you know what I'm going to ask you next. What's your favorite part of being in your new body?

Blaise: My favorite part? I'll give you two guesses.

Blaise: I love being a walking, talking gun show. Like I look down and I just think wow, I get to own these arms.

Arsenio: Yeah those are some killer pipes man.

Blaise: Dude you have no idea, I'm so fucking strong now. I'm still not over how like... round they are? It's like someone shoved a football under my skin, they tear my shirts if I'm not careful. I'm never gonna get tired of watching them flex.

Blaise: Every part of this body is great actually but I wanna give a special shoutout to my thighs actually- I'm thicker than a bowl of oatmeal. I just love having some meat on these bones, you know? I never skip a leg day.

Arsenio: Oh trust me, I can tell. And Blaise, you know I gotta ask because it's the question everyone's dying to know the answer to... how big is it?

Blaise: I'm gonna have to plead the fifth on that one actually- I'm currently in talks with a few different studios that have some ideas about how we can unveil that particular part of my new brand. But... let's just say that Blaise was a big boy, and he didn't disappoint. It's hard for me to make it through the day without fondling myself all the time, pun very much intended.

Blaise: This is so embarrassing but I actually had trouble pissing when I first got this body because every time I whipped my dick out to piss I'd get a boner from the sight of it- it's a grower, I'll tell you that much.

Arsenio: Damn, well, there you have it listeners! An exclusive!

Blaise: Oh god, I can just hear my publicist in my head screaming at me right now. Can you edit that out?

Arsenio: No, no, we are definitely leaving that in! This is the kind of content the people want to hear.

Blaise: Haha, well, I'm always happy to give the people what they want. But yeah, if you're really curious about what little Blaise looks like, keep an eye on my socials. Big things on the horizon... very big.

Arsenio: We'll be sure to put links to your accounts in the episode description. Moving on, I feel like I know the answer but here's one that we ask everybody: if you could switch back to your old body, would you?

Blaise: ...Sorry, what? I got distracted for a second.

Arsenio: Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyways, Blaise, you know what's more exciting than waking up to find yourself in the body of a famous hunk? Today's sponsor, Squarespace...

#male body swap #the great shift #this is dumb and kind of meta but I managed to finish it #so that's an accomplishment at least #I think thegreatstoryteller did a story with a similar concept a long time ago so shoutout to him

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donteattheappleshook · 3 months

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(not so) young, drunk and alone 1/1

“Swan, it’s me. ‘M so sorry I ‘avnent called for… September, October, Nov… three months. Shit that’s too many months. ‘M sorry but I need your help. The sherrffeff won’t let me leave. He says you have to pick me up - well not you but ‘ynow someone. I don’t know anyone else. Oh! It’s Killian by the way. Killian Jones. I don’t know how many Killians you know but I’m that one. The dickhead who ghosted you. ‘Nway, if you could call me back that would be just - awesome. Yur prolly not gonna call me back. I wouldn’t call me back. ‘Nway… yeah. It’s Killian. Thanks.”

(We'll give this a light M)

Oh hey, it's me, neglecting all the WIPs for something new.

This fic is a little birthday present to myself. It's completely ferral and I had very little control over it but I listened to Dial Drunk on repeat for 3 days and then this happened. This fic is unbetaed but thank you @the-darkdragonfly for answering all my texts and rambling calls while I was writing it!

A Silver hook story because apparently everything I write is now...

Read it on Ao3 (where my italics work)

******

(not so) young, drunk and alone

She shouldn’t be allowed to look at him like that. Not with a smirk caught between her teeth in a way that makes his throat dry and his pulse race. Not with the barely restrained promise of a laugh he’s sure would come out in different company that makes his face burn and and his eyes unable to meet hers. He can’t look at her when she looks like that, and she’s looking at him like that, and he looks - he assumes not great.

So he focuses on the floor instead. The floor is safe. The floor doesn’t stir up conflicting and confusing feelings he’s managed to ignore for the better part of a year. The floor doesn’t make him question every terrible decision he’s made in his life that led him to this exact moment. The floor is… moving. It’s not supposed to do that. Although that’s likely the booze, he rationalizes. But the floor isn’t interested in being rational so Killian lets his forehead fall against the bars he’s already holding onto in an attempt to stay upright. The bars are nice, they’re cool and solid and it slows the spinning in his head a fraction.

“Big night?”

He takes a full ten seconds, counted slowly, and a few deep breaths before raising his head again and facing that smirk. It doesn’t help. The absolute delight in her eyes delivers the same gut-punch it always does - even if it’s at his expense - and the soft blonde curls that have fallen from her probably hastily pulled up bun make him ache to reach out and brush them away from her face just so he can feel the strands between his fingers.

He shouldn’t have called her. He knew it was a mistake when he did it. He should have just let the sheriff keep him in this bloody cell. It’s not as if he hadn’t slept it off a night or two in another cell in another town throughout his youth. But he’s not so youthful now and the sight of the cold, hard bench, the thought of his aching back and the copious amounts of rum still coursing through his blood had been enough to send him over the edge into madness apparently. So he’d pressed the blurry little “absolutely not” in his contacts and called the only person he knew in this whole bloody city.

“Swaann.” He attempts a smile but it turns into a wince as he manages to slur the single word. When he works up to meeting her eyes again - so green, like the sea glass he used to collect on the beach when he was a boy and that takes his breath away every time - there’s a bit of pity mixed in with the amusement.

He feels pretty pitiful. Forty-five and so stumbling drunk that he’d been tossed out of the pub and into a police car, only to be forced to face the one person he’d hoped the rum would chase from his mind. He’s too old to be acting like this. Even with his wits sloshing around in the drink he’d tried to drown them with he knows he’s too old to be acting like this. When you’re young, it’s funny, an anecdote for another time - spending the night in the drunk tank. When you’re his age, it’s just pathetic.

“Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Her voice is sweet, with a laugh still hiding somewhere behind it, and it’s the first sound since he was brought here that hasn’t made his head feel like it was being scratched at from the inside.

“You shouldn’t’ve come here. S’the middle of the night,” he tells her. She doesn’t belong in this sad little room in this sad little jail with the lightbulb that keeps flickering in and out. Still, he can’t stop the stupid smile that finds residence on his face whenever she’s near - because she is here. She came to get him.

Emma raises a brow in a way he thinks she may have picked up from him. “You called me three times.”

He blinks. Fuck. He doesn’t remember that. He looks at the sheriff waiting a little ways back who nods in confirmation, giving Killian his own pitying wince like he tried to stop him. Killian sighs. “‘Mm usually much more charming.”

She rolls her eyes but smirks again as the sheriff slides a key into the ancient looking lock. “Yeah, I know. Come on, Graham’s going to let you off with a warning -”

He nearly falls flat on his face when the door he’d been leaning against swings open.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay with him, Em?”

Oh great, they know each other. He’d be more annoyed at her cozy relationship with the unreasonably attractive sheriff if he wasn’t a little bit grateful to the man who caught him and is still holding him up now. If he can just get his legs to go back under him where they belong…

“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

Killian feels himself being passed from the man who smells strikingly of the forest, to the woman with the irreplicable scent of honey and drugstore soap that overwhelms him with the memory of every time he’s had his mouth or his hand on her skin. The fingers of his one remaining hand burn with the urge to feel her under them again so he balls them into a fist as she drapes his arm over her shoulders. “What about you?” It takes him a moment to realize that he’s who the question is directed at. “You going to be okay to walk out of here?”

Sheer determination not to make an even greater fool of himself than he already has in front of Emma Swan is the only thing he can attribute to both not falling right over with the nod of his head, and the steadiness of his first step as she leads him out the door.

He stumbles three times between the building and her car. She catches him every time with a hand on his chest, her head turning so that her hair brushes his cheek and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t do it on purpose after the first time - though he can’t really trust his own thoughts at this point since they have to be yelled at him through an ocean of rum.

“It’s your bug!” he beams at the old, yellow car. “I love your bug.”

“You hate my bug.”

Oh, right. He does hate the car that broke down every other time they drove to his hotel in the middle of the night, the one that had broken down the night they met. ‘I swear I’m not trying to stand you up. It’s just my car is literally on the side of the road right now and the tow won’t come for another hour at least and there’s… smoke.’

It had been an interesting night, getting an Uber in a strange city to go pick up a stranded woman from a dating app who'd been on her way to his hotel for anonymous sex - a woman he found out had lied about her age when she pointed out that the 1993 beetle was older than she was. ‘I didn’t think you’d swipe right if you knew there was a whole high school senior between us.’ ‘Anything else I should know about?’ he’d teased when they were back at his hotel room where she’d managed to get him out of his shirt with impressive speed. ‘Is Anna even your real name?’ ‘Uhhh, about that…’

She leans him up against the aggressive yellow of the door as she fishes in her pockets for her key. Her cheeks have gone red from the cold and it reminds him of the flush that would sometimes come over her skin if he found the right words or the right touch.

“You’re so lovely.” His thumb is tracing over her cheek though he doesn’t remember raising his hand or reaching for her.

She snorts. “Yeah, okay, Jones. So not gonna happen tonight, but nice try.” This time her smirk is wicked and if he had any real control over his body or his brain he would kiss it right off her smug mouth.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything!” he swears, prosthetic on his heart as she unlocks the passenger side door. “I’m just grateful you came all the way out here to rescue me. My knight in awful yellow armour.” He gasps. She rescued him from a dungeon. “Bloody hell, Swan -” He speaks slowly, managing to get almost every word out coherently. “I’m the princess.”

He’s waiting for her to come to the same mind-blowing realization as he has, but she just shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Get in the car, your highness.”

It takes an impressive amount of self-control for him to sit still and keep his hand to himself despite his racing heart and thoughts as she leans over to help him secure his seatbelt. Because he’s not supposed to have those thoughts. And his idiot heart can keep its cruel reminders to itself. He shouldn’t have called her. He hasn’t called her - not in months. Not since he realized his mistake and knew this thing between them had to come to an end.

He’s missed her so bloody much.

“Killian.” She’s beside him now in the driver’s seat and saying his name like it’s not the first time she’s asked him this question. “Where are you staying?”

“Oh, I…” Shit. He knows this. He’s got this. Think. There was a hotel. A big hotel with really good room service. Maybe they could go there and he could buy her room service. She always liked that. ‘Listen, I know I came over here for sex and that was great and everything, but there’s a freaking lobster grilled cheese on this menu so do you think I could be here for sex and room service tonight?’ She’d looked at him with that same wicked, eager smile and he was already reaching across her for the phone. ‘I feel like I should be concerned that you seem more turned on by this sandwich than you did by anything else tonight.’ ‘Well, it’ll probably take them a little while to deliver it if you want another go at out-seducing bread and cheese.’

“A hotel,” he tells her finally.

“Yeah, I kind of figured. Which one?”

“Which what?”

“Which hotel, Killian? Which hotel am I driving you to?”

“Oh.” He knows this one! “Mine.”

She sighs, forehead falling against the steering wheel for a long moment. He waits, not sure what he did wrong but positive that he did something. “Okay,” she says, sitting up and starting the car. “It’s late. You can sleep it off on my couch for tonight and I’ll drive you back in the morning when you’re less… wasted.”

She sounds frustrated and he thinks it might be his fault. He looks at her carefully as she turns out of the parking lot, really looks at her for the first time since she walked back into his life a moment ago. Holding his breath against the eyes and hair and skin that always try to steal it away, he takes note of her messy hair, the lack of any makeup, the grey sweats he knows she likes to sleep in. He looks at the clock next, the late - or rather early - hour shining angry, bright and orange. He can figure this out.

“I’m sorry.” He’s an idiot. She glances at him before turning back to the dark highway ahead of them.” “I shouldn’t have called you.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” He hangs his head, hoping he looks sincere and not just as pathetically pissed as he is. “I woke you up.”

“Really, Killian, it’s fine. I was just going to bed.” He looks at the clock again and he envies her youth not for the first time since meeting her. He supposes he’s up this late as well, but that wasn’t by choice. That was the rum’s decision. The rum always makes bad decisions.

“But it’s cold.” She must be cold. She’s always cold and he made her go outside. She hates outside. She probably hates him now. ‘Listen, I’m all for this whole hooking up when you’re in town no strings thing.’ She waved a hand in his general direction. ‘Big fan of everything you’ve got going on here. But it’s cold as balls outside, so from now on you can come to mine and I can stay inside where it’s warm, or I’ll see you in the spring.’

The smirking curl of her mouth tugs at her cheek but he doesn’t reach for it again. “Yeah, it’s November.”

November. The last time he saw her it had been the dead of summer, both of them hot and sticky and barely dressed, stretched out in front of the single standing fan by the bed in her little apartment with no bloody air conditioning.

He misses that apartment. Misses being there with her and letting her make him boxed mac and cheese while he complained about her eating habits. Misses the ridiculous sheets with little Millennium Falcons on them that she’d found when he was running late to meet her that one time. He’d made her wash them before putting them on her bed - ‘fine, mom’ - and then listened to her make Star Wars puns from between her thighs until they tightened so hard against his ears he couldn’t hear anything at all.

And he misses the way she would smile at him when she opened the door, just before she dragged him inside, asking about his flight between heated kisses and frustrated hands. ‘I hate your stupid ties’.

He’s a bloody idiot and he should have never stopped calling. Or he should have stopped calling a long time ago, before there was anything to miss. They had a good thing going, an understanding, no strings. He’d reach out when he was in town for work and they would meet for one or however many nights he was staying. No expectations or dates or sleepovers, none of the complicated stuff. And he’d screwed it up.

His feet slip dangerously against the icy ground - at least he’s pretty sure there’s ice, or the ground isn’t staying still again - as Emma practically hoists him out of the car. “You remember the stairs right?” she asks, ducking under his arm again to steady him. She fits well there with her arm wrapped around his waist.

He hadn’t remembered the stairs. Though he should have, he’d complained about them enough times. ‘What’s so wrong with an apartment with an elevator?’ ‘Aw, can your old knees not handle it?’ He’d caught her as she bolted up the last few flights at his glare, laughing the whole way, and he’d spent enough time on his ‘old knees’ to make her take it back. This time, he’s not so sure he can handle it as he looks up at the rotating stairs that seem unable to settle on a height.

“It’s either that or you’re sleeping in the lobby, Jones.”

He considers it. “Is that David guy still your landlord?” The one who was particularly hostile to the man in his forties coming over at random hours of the night to visit his twenty-eight year old tenant. ‘Give him a break, he still thinks I’m the sixteen year old kid he illegally rented to when I first moved here.’

In fairness, Killian would probably judge himself too if he were in the landlord's shoes. He has judged himself many times for becoming a stereotype of Dicaprio-sized proportions. But the alternative would have been resisting Emma Swan, something he’s incapable of doing - or at least had been until that morning he ruined everything.

“Okay.” The stairs are still moving.

“Hold on.” She takes out her phones - there’s definitely two of them - and holds them in front of his face. “I just want to get you on camera saying that I’m not liable if you fall down these stairs and break your neck.”

“Is that really necessary?” He got that whole sentence out in one try.

“I know you have a lawyer.” ‘You have a what? Wow, I knew you were older but I didn’t know you were like, old old.’ ‘I don’t think it counts if you’ve stolen from parent’s liquor cabinet.’

“Fine. Don’t sue Emma if I die. She’s very nice and doesn’t have any money anyway.”

“Thank you.”

“It’ll never hold up in court.”

“That would be way more convincing if you could pronounce all your consonants.”

The climb takes twice as long as it should and he’s forced to stop once when he makes the mistake of looking down and his stomach rolls violently. ‘I swear to god if you puke in my hallway I’ll leave you here to sleep in it.’

“I don’t remember there being this many floors.”

“It’s four floors. You’ve done two.”

He might die.

He doesn’t die, but just barely, and when Emma leads him through the door and into the studio, she practically drops him onto the old couch. It’s not her fault; he’d made himself very droppable in the last few minutes. At least he landed on the couch and not the collection of wooden crates she’s glued together next to it. ‘That’s not a coffee table, Swan.’ ‘Oh, I’m sorry, is that or is that not your coffee cup on it right now?’

He doesn’t see her for a few minutes, his head too heavy to lift, but he can hear her moving around the apartment and he can picture her, walking through the kitchen on her toes. ‘It’s not weird, shut up.’ ‘I just thought you’d like to know that most people use their whole foot.’

When she finally comes back, he forces his eyes open, unsure who exactly glued them shut or how they did it without him noticing. Fuck she’s beautiful. Even through the boozy marinade he’s made of his head he can see that, and he wants to tell her. He could. He could blame it on the rum. But that would be a bad idea. Complicating things between them would be a bad idea. They’d already gotten complicated enough. God, he’s such a fuck up. Things were good, they could have stayed good. He just had to go and ruin a good thing with his stupid, greedy heart.

“Here.” Two little pills and a frighteningly large bottle of water are set down in front of him. He’s not sure what the pills are but he’s also pretty sure she wouldn’t try to poison him even if he is an asshole who called her in the middle of the night after ghosting her for months. Pretty sure. The water sounds like a good idea.

“Have you eaten anything or did you have rum for dinner?”

“There were peanuts at the bar,” he tells her after guzzling down enough water to drown himself with. She shakes her head and walks out of his line of sight again. This time she comes back with a bag of crisps and he thinks maybe she doesn’t hate him as much as he thought because they’re the kind he likes most.

“Eat that, drink that, and take those,” she orders, pointing to each with a stern look. “And then lie down on your side so I know you won’t choke to death in the night, and get some sleep.”

“Yes ‘mam,” he salutes.

“Don’t get cute with me.” He wasn’t trying to be cute. But it makes him unreasonably happy that she thinks he is. She rolls her eyes at his probably once again dumb smile and repeats, “eat,” before disappearing where he can’t see her again.

When she comes back this time her hair is down, falling over the shoulders of her oversized Jonas Brothers t-shirt she’s apparently had since she was twelve, and he wants to whine or cry at how desperately he wishes he could reach for her and what an idiot he is for being the reason he can’t. She’s carrying an empty garbage can, a blanket draped over one arm.

“Do not puke on my rug. It’s the only new thing in this whole apartment and I love it more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.”

Killian leans over from where he’s stretched out on the couch that’s too small for him, running his fingers over the blue and white pattern and nods. “It’s lovely, very soft.”

She’s silent for long enough that he looks up again, only to find her with her lips pressed so hard together against a laugh that he can see her chest lurch with the force of containing it. He frowns, looking from her to the rug and back again before realizing that he’s been stroking the rug with his prosthetic hand.

“Emma… I might be drunker than I thought.”

The laugh that bursts out of her is loud and horrible and obnoxious and it’s the best sound he’s heard in a long time. He’s missed that sound, the one that had shocked him so completely the first time he heard it that they’d both ended up on the floor, stomachs hurting and eyes tearing, neither able to remember what had set her off in the first place and unable to stop giggling like teenagers.

“Aw, babe,” Emma crouches down in front of him with a pitying look before beginning to work the straps of his false hand loose. Her hand settles soft against his cheek once it’s free, smirk still lingering on the corner of her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been as drunk as you are right now.”

Her face is so close to his that his heart forgets how it’s meant to work, stopping and racing of its own accord. He wishes she would close the distance, that he could feel her mouth against his for the first time in months, or that she’d simply stay here with him for the rest of the night because the distance and the silence between them has been more than he can take. He doesn't know how he ever convinced himself that staying away would eventually make the ache for her fade.

She smiles at him again, giving his cheek an affectionate pat before draping the blanket over him, the soft one he knows had been her prized possession before the rug. “Get some sleep, Killian. I don’t think anyone’s ever been as hungover as you’re going to be tomorrow either.”

He’s not sure whether or not the way his fingers close around hers before she can pull away was his idea or the rum’s, but she’s looking at him, waiting for him to say something and he doesn’t know what he was going to say or what he was thinking. He just knows that he missed her and he screwed it up - and then he screwed it up again, possibly beyond repair the second time.

Being in this city that he managed to avoid for months in the hopes that he could forget about her has been one of the worst decisions he’s ever made. To think he really believed that he could live here, that he could take the job that was offered and not be haunted by her every waking moment, not dread and hope to see her around every corner.

Being naive enough to think he could ignore the draw of her is how he ended up in that bar tonight. He’d tried to figure out how many shots of rum it would take to make him forget that he loves Emma Swan, but it seems there isn’t enough rum in the world for that - or at least not enough in that bar.

She’s still looking at him and he wishes she wasn’t watching him with a hesitation and a carefulness that hadn’t been there before. It had always been so easy between them; he’d never felt less self-conscious with another person in his life and now it’s all consuming. She’s lost the carefree warmth he used to see in her eyes, like he took it with him when he left that morning and didn’t come back.

“I’m sorry.”

He can’t tell if it’s relief or disappointment in her sigh. “I already told you, it’s fine.”

He shakes his head. “Not for calling you tonight. For not calling you. Every other night. I’ve been an ass and I’ve been a coward. You didn’t deserve that.” By the grace of whatever gods might be listening to his poor apology, he doesn’t slur a single word.

Her pause is long enough that he worries he said the wrong thing, and he can’t read her expression through the haze of booze and exhaustion swimming around in his head. He should let go of her hand, but he’s painfully aware that this could be the last time he gets to touch her and she’s not pulling away.

She sighs again. “Why don’t we talk about this when you’re feeling better?”

He lets go. “Aye, Swan, whatever you want.”

She walks away. Beyond repair then.

***

Killian jumps, heart pounding. He feels like he’s woken from a coma, body so heavy with sleep that parts of it aren't responding to him and never having been more confused than he is in these first few moments. It’s daytime, but it’s not morning, the light is too dim, and he’s asleep but not in his bed or in his hotel room, on a couch he recognizes but can’t really place. He has a vague recollection of things that may or may not have happened while he lay here; the sound of someone moving around the room, someone saying his name, a door shutting, an angry car somewhere far off and the bark of a dog somewhere close, the sound of keys and the strange sensation someone poking him in the face - hard.

All of it feels like a fever dream now as he looks towards the tinny sound of the belligerent man’s voice coming from the phone in her hand.Oh no. Oh god what the hell had he done last night? He recognizes the room, the soft blanket he’s under, the long legs clad in grey sweatpants perched on the table in front of him. He doesn’t think he can bring himself to look at her.

“Oh! It’s Killian by the way. Killian Jones. I don’t know how many Killians you know but I’m that one. The dickhead who ghosted you. ‘Nway, if you could call me back that would be just - awesome. Yur prolly not gonna call me back. I wouldn’t call me back. ‘Nway… yeah. It’s Killian. Thanks.”

If you’d like to save this message, press - there's a loud beep before another message begins to play. Bloody hell. He remembers the pub, and the cop - sort of - and he remembers that little line on his phone screen. ‘Absolutely not’. From the looks of it, he absolutely did.

“Heey, isme again. I don’t think I told you where I am. Is’not great, Swan. They put me in the jail.”

He winces, sitting up carefully, head still light and disoriented. “Did I…”

“Mhm.”

Another wince. “Are they all-”

“Oh yeah.”

“‘M not even that drunk. The sherfs just got a commpelex or something.”

“Swan, we really don’t have to -”

“Shh, this is my favourite part.”

Killian hangs his head. “I - Oy, I’m on the phone, sherirff! Don’ they teach you manners at cop school? The cops in your city are rude, Swan. Hey! No - iss my phone. I can call whoever I want.” There’s a shuffling sound that stirs up a faint memory of trying to back deeper into the cell, then a small shout and he remembers why his ass hurts and that he’s probably got a bruise on his hip the size of the one on his ego. Emma has her lip caught between her teeth again, flashing him the same look she had when she arrived at the station.

“Hello? Swan? Oh, right. Yur prolly asleep. You should be asleep, that’s good. I jus’ called ‘cus I…” For a blissful minute he thinks he might have had the sense to hang up, the silence on the other end dragging on and he almost breathes a sigh of relief. But then the message rings out again. “I can't remember why I called you. I think somethin’ made me think of you.” His voice gets softer and so does her expression for just a moment.

“That happens a lot. I been thinking ‘bout you a lot, all the time, really. And not just in a sexy way and not just yer face.” Killian hangs his head. “Even though I’m a fan of your face. And all your other parts too.”

He wishes he could just perish right here and now, wishes the dull ache in his head would become an aneurysm and take him out without a fuss.

“I been thinking about those ridic’lus tiktoks you used to send me and when I was in meetings ‘n I jus’ wanted to be with you. I don’t know anything about Taylor Swift anymore, Swan - I don’t know how to find those myself.” There’s another pause but he knows better than to hope this is over, much of this coming back to him now in mortifying waves.

“I’ve too many shirts in my closet now - It’s so many shirts. I always brought extra ‘cause I knew you’d steal ‘em an’ then you’d walk ‘round your kitchen in ‘em with no pants like yur a sexy Winnie the Pooh or somethn’ and I had to watch you climb yur counters while I had a heartattack ‘cuz you wouldn’ jus’ let me get things off the top shelf for you. Bloody stubborn.” There’s a sigh over the machine. “I don’t want this many shirts, Swan…

‘Anyway I - What? Who does? Sorry, Swan the sherf is being rude again. He wants to know if yur picking me up. Are you picking me up?” There’s so much hope in his past self’s voice that he almost feels bad for him. But he also knows what a bloody idiot that man is and it’s hard to feel anything but the overwhelming urge to disappear into this couch and not have to listen to any more of his drunken rambling. “That would be nice. But it’s okay if you don’t want to. I’d understand. Gnight, love.”

To delete this message press - She hits a button. Message saved.

Killian braces himself for the next one. Gods, how many of them are there? But this time it’s not his voice that comes out over the speakerphone, it’s another man, Irish and vaguely familiar through the sleep and the unfortunately returning memories.

“Hey, Emma, it’s Graham.” Killian’s heart drops into his stomach at the sound of another man calling her in the middle of the night. Of course she wouldn’t have sat around pining like he did, not for a man who treated her as carelessly as he had. Of course - “Listen, I don’t know who this guy is but he says he knows you. I thought maybe he was one of your clients but when I asked him how he knows you he just asked me if I’ve ever been in love...”

The brow Emma raises at him is equal parts question, challenge and amusement and he feels the blood rush from his face. Fuck. He wonders whether four floors would be high enough for him to end this misery if he just went out the window.

“Anyway, just let me know if this is another Walsh situation and I’ll make sure he stays in here, alright? Goodnight, love.” Killian can’t even begrudge the man or the endearment he adds to the end of his message when he’s only looking out for her. Probably a good thing she has someone to keep old, drunk dickheads away from her.

He hears another beep of her mailbox and braces himself for whatever’s coming next. “Hi, love, ‘m sorry for calling so much. I know I made too many ms’takes to be ‘loud to say this, but… I miss you, Swan… And I’d jus’ really like to see you again.”

End of messages. To -

Emma shuts the phone off, setting it down next to her on the coffee table. She tilts her head to see his face which he’s currently trying to bury in his hands. “Sounds like you had quite the night.”

“I thought I’d be more hungover.” His head hurts and he’s tired and his mouth is dry but he expected to be near death after the way he threw them back last night.

“It’s four in the afternoon.” Oh. He does the math of how long she’d let him sleep in her apartment after everything he’s done - after she picked him up.

“At one point I had to make sure you were alive. But I figured if you were able to leave such eloquent voicemails last night that you probably weren’t in danger of alcohol poisoning.”

“Swan, I…” He’s fully aware that he deserves her mocking but he’s too humiliated to even begin to try and explain his behaviour last night. How can he without explaining everything right down to that morning in July where he messed up the best thing in his life.

She takes pity on him, giving a small shrug. “Forget about it. Everyone says stupid stuff when they’re hammered. Everyone calls people they know they shouldn’t.”

“No, Emma -” He finally lifts his head to look at her. “That wasn’t…” He needs her to know that wasn’t what this was, she wasn’t just some drunk dial in the middle of the night. He thinks of how many times in the last three three months he’s looked at that contact in his phone, her name replaced with a reminder that he should not and absolutely could not go there. She mistakes his hesitation.

“You okay?”

“No.” He needs to talk to her, to apologize and beg her forgiveness. But he can’t find the words in his tired, muddled head to tell her without telling her everything. “I’m a bloody idiot.”

Emma smirks. “Yeah, we established that last night - a bunch of times.”

“I mean it. It wasn’t -” He rubs at his eyes, trying to clear the sleep and avoid looking at her. “I didn’t just call you because I was drunk. I’ve wanted to call you. For months. Last night just gave me an excuse.”

“You needed an excuse to call me?”

He sighs. “I was coward enough to convince myself I did.”

When he finally forces himself to face her, he finds her watching her phone, fingers wrung in her lap and lips pressed together tightly the way they always are before she asks something that’s answer matters to her.

“How much of last night do you actually remember?”

“Most of it, I think.” It’s been coming back to him in increasingly horrifying details since she played that first voicemail.

“You said a lot of stupid stuff.”

“I know.”

“How much of all of that was true?”

“All of it.”

She raises a brow. “All of it?”

“Aye.”

“Sexy Winnie the Pooh?”

A smirk tugs at his mouth. “I stand by what I said.”

He wonders which parts of what he said she’s focusing on as her silence stretches between them, heartbroken when he sees a little wall go up. This is why he stopped calling. He knew this would happen.

“It’s fine. It’s not like you owed me anything. We weren’t -”

“Don’t do that.” His hand reaches out for her, fingers playing carefully with the fabric of her too-big sweatpants. “We may not have been in a relationship but we weren’t nothing.” He won’t let her excuse his behaviour, not after they spent over a year in each others’ lives only for him to disappear from hers. “I shouldn’t have acted like we were.”

“So then why did you stop calling?” It’s the most vulnerable he’s ever heard her sound even though she hides it well and he can’t bring himself to look at her. “I liked what we had going. I liked spending time with you.”

“Aye, so did I.” Too much.

“I guess I thought - I guess I thought we were friends at least.”

“We were.” His fingers dance along her calf through the fabric he can’t stop fiddling with and he feels the muscle tense but she doesn’t pull away from him.

“So then what gives?” The anger in her voice makes his gaze snap up to hers. Finally. He’s been waiting for her to be angry with him, she deserves to be angry and he deserves it too. It gives him that small flicker of hope he’d been unable to find until now, a hope that if she’s angry, it’s because she cared enough to be hurt. “Why did you just…” She gestures vaguely with her hands. Disappear.

“Because I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Do what? Hook up? Jesus, Killian, I’m a big girl. You didn’t have to run away because you were over the benefits part of this friendship.”

“I wasn’t. I left because I broke our rules.”

“What rules?”

The ones they’d so carefully established when they decided to continue this arrangement beyond the first and second time he saw her. The ones that were meant to keep either of them from getting hurt like they both were now.

“The last time I was here, we fell asleep and woke up in the morning still in your bed and I…”

“That’s why you freaked out? Because you accidentally slept over? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” He can hear the disbelief in her voice and also the relief but he’s not done. “It wasn’t like a hard and fast rule -”

His fingers curl around the back of her knee, squeezing as he draws her attention. “That’s not why.” He traces his thumb over the fabric covering her shin and he knows he has to tell her because he can’t do this anymore without telling her and he can’t go back to how things were.

And he thinks that just maybe, she’ll want to hear it. Because as small and insignificant as it may seem, those aren’t her sweatpants, they’re his, lent - stolen - after a rather frantic afternoon in his hotel room six months ago where he may have torn her skirt in his haste to get it off. ‘You need better quality clothes, love.’ ‘Is this you finally offering to be my sugar daddy?’ They have his bloody initials on them - a strange gift from his lawyer friend. And she hasn’t gotten rid of them, didn’t toss them away when he did the same to her. She still sleeps in them.

“I freaked out because I liked waking up with you, and I started thinking that I’d like to wake up with you every morning.” He’d been hot and sweaty and sore from sleeping on her old mattress but he’d looked down at the woman wrapped around him despite the stifling heat, her cheek pressed to his chest and her hair in his mouth and he knew that he wanted this, wanted her, maybe forever. He hears her small intake of breath, his thumb still stroking her skin though the fabric as though it’ll give him the strength he needs. “And I hadn’t felt that way about anyone since…” He can’t finish and so she does for him.

“Milah?”

“Aye.” His reason for never wanting anything more, love lost in the same instant that cost him a piece of himself. He’d told Emma about her, one night when they’d lingered a little too long entangled in the aftermath. He didn’t know the details of her reason, only that she’d been far too young and that he’d hurt her deeply enough to make her wary of anyone who claimed love or devotion.

“I hoped that if I stayed away for a little while that it would fade away and that we could go back to how things were because I knew that if I told you I would lose you. But the longer I stayed away, the more I missed you and the more I wanted you and I realized it wasn’t going to go away - because I loved you.”

Killian watches her for a reaction as he tells her the truth he’d been hiding from her for months and from himself for far longer, but she remains unreadable, fingers still wringing nervously in her lap, breathing a little shaky. But there’s no abject terror in her gaze as she waits for him to finish.

“And by then I’d avoided you for too long and it was too late to tell you or try to go back to how things were and I lost you anyway. Then I managed to convince myself that it was for the best because this wasn’t what you wanted and you deserved better anyway.” Better than an old widower with a used up heart who’d run the moment things became real. “But I thought you had the right to know that I didn’t leave because I didn’t care about you. I left because I cared too much.”

Fabric slips from his hand as she stands, circling the coffee table and leaving him feeling untethered without her and with a barrier set between them. He focuses on the rug, her reaction expected but no less painful, as she paces the length of her glued together crates a few times.

“Okay two things.” Her tone snaps his gaze up to where she moves anxiously and restlessly in the small space. “First of all, that’s the last time you make a decision for me.” He hadn’t expected this reaction. “I don’t need anyone to decide what I do or don’t deserve or what I can or can’t handle. If you want to know what I want, you ask me. You talk to me like the grownup you keep pretending that you are.” That one hurts but he nods. It’s all rightly earned.

“You’re right.”

“Good.” She stops, shoulders squared as she faces him from across the table. “Second.” He waits, the anger from before no longer sustaining her as he sees the wall she hides behind slip just a little. “You said you loved me.”

He’s not sure what answer she wants, but he gives her the truth. “I love you, Swan.” Try as hard as he did not to, he knows it’s not going away. And he’s not willing to attempt another eight shots of rum a second time to make sure.

She nods. He waits, or she waits, he’s not sure who’s supposed to speak here only that he needs to know how she feels and he’ll wait as long as he needs to.

“Well? Are you going to ask me what I want?”

“What do you want?” He’d give her whatever she asked for at this point as he watches her bite her lip and definitely doesn’t wish he was the one biting it.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Fair enough.

“Look, I get running away from feelings - I’m very familiar with the concept. But the way you did it was really shitty and -” Her voice goes quiet, arms wrapping around herself in a move so full of self-preservation that it breaks his heart a little. “It hurt, okay?”

Her words, thick with betrayal and rejection, pierce sharp through his chest, painful and deserved as she avoids his gaze as determinantly as he’d avoided hers. God, he’s an ass. He’d pieced together enough about her past from the small glimpses she’d given him late on those nights where they were still tangled naked in her sheets and the dark lent them the boldness to be vulnerable to know that she’d been left before.

He joins her on her side of the table, reaching to touch the soft, golden waves that he’s spent months wishing he could tangle his fingers in again. “I’m sorry.” He pushes them behind her ear, thumb stroking over her cheek like her skin could break beneath his touch.

When she looks up at him her eyes are red and wet he pulls her to him without thinking. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, Emma feeling fragile in his arms for the first time since he met her. She’s a force, his Swan, a tempest that could devour a thousand ships and it hurts to see her storms wane.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter, pressing a kiss to her temple as he brings a hand to stroke the hair at the base of her neck, feels her lean into him. “I’m sorry,” he speaks against her brow. “I’m so sorry, love.” His lips brush over the crown of her head and he feels her arms slip around his waist, holding tight to the back of his shirt. He holds her just as tightly, nose settling in the crook of her neck where he presses another kiss and whispers a thousand more apologies. “I’m an ass.”

“Yeah, you are.” Her voice comes muffled from where her face is pressed against his collarbone and he laughs in relief to hear her tease him. He pulls back enough that she can lift her head to face him, eyes still red as he wipes at the dampness left on her cheeks. All he wants is to kiss her and spend the night and the next day and every day after that making this up to her, but he knows better than to push her.

Her hands slide from his back to his chest as she meets his gaze and takes a steadying breath. “I still don’t know what I want. You’re not the only one who’s bad at dealing with feelings and you just put some pretty big ones out there.”

“I know.” He doesn’t expect to hear the words back, not after three months of silence. But if she gives him the chance to stay and try to win her heart then he’ll spend forever earning back her trust.

“But maybe, if you’re still in town for a bit, you could stay for dinner.”

It takes everything he has to contain the ecstatic smile that wells up from his chest, afraid he’ll scare her off. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.” He’s not leaving her again. Not unless she sends him away.

***

“When do you go back?” she asks when they’re sat at the kitchen island. ‘What, exactly, do you have against real furniture? Especially tables. They seem particularly discriminated against.’ ‘Do you see any room in here for a twelve-piece dining set?’ He swallows the bite of the boxed mac and cheese she’d made him cook ‘Because I’m still pissed at you and I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer through this.’ ‘Sadist. Can I at least add -’ ‘No.’

Killian looks at his watch. “My flight was an hour ago.”

“What? You should have said -”

“And miss all the delicacies that Maine has to offer?” he asks, lifting his mismatched bowl. “It’s fine, Swan,” he adds when she looks genuinely concerned. “I’d rather be here.” He can get another flight at the last minute before he’s due back in New York on Monday. Getting his things back from the hotel, however, may be a tad more difficult.

“That’s sweet and all but I think you’d also rather be employed.”

“Aye, well, I may not be employed there much longer anyhow.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh god, don’t tell me you left them voicemails too.”

Killian snorts. “No, I’ve just… had another offer.”

His heart pounds frantically as she asks, “where?” terrified that he’ll scare her off.

“Here.”

“Here?”

He nods. “I wasn’t going to take it, not after realizing how much I’d miss you if I was here. But, well, that was before I drank a full bar. And this town does have its benefits.”

She gapes at him and he can see the thoughts racing behind her eyes. “You’re not moving for me, right? You want the job? Because I told you I don’t know what I want or if I can even do… whatever this maybe is and I -”

He reaches for her hand, calming the rambling that had started. “I do want the job, but of course I’m moving for you, Swan. And I know you’re not ready to decide anything, and I’m not asking you to. But whether you do or don’t decide that what you want is me, I’m going to be right here while you figure it out. I’m not going to leave you twice, Emma. I don’t want to miss you like that again.”

Emma just stares at him, mouth opening and then shutting with questions that don’t find voice and he sits, stewing in the worry that he said too much, asked for too much. He swallows as she jumps out of her seat, his turn to ramble now as she rounds the island.

“I mean, I will have to go home and get my things and resign but I -”

“Shut up,” she tells him, hands sliding into his hair and mouth colliding with his.

He’s more than happy to do exactly that, wasting no time in gathering her up in his arms and pulling her close, returning the kiss he’d missed so damn much all these months, missed the feel of her soft and warm against him like this, for the little sound she makes when his own hand tangles in her hair just hard enough that he can keep he there a little longer.

“Wait,” he breathes and her hands pause where they’d been working the buttons of his shirt free. “Maybe we should slow down.” There’s a part of him screaming at his stupid mouth right now for the words falling out of it. “You said you don’t know if this is what you want. So maybe we shouldn’t rush things.”

She barks out a small laugh. “You’re moving to another city for a ‘maybe’ and you don’t want to rush things?” He doesn’t really have an answer for that.

Her brow and mouth quirk up in one devastatingly attractive motion that has him ready to go back on everything he just said. “This was never our problem,” she reminds him, fingers tugging the buckle of his belt loose. “We’re good at this part. Everything else is where we get messy.” She works the button of his jeans open next. “So just try not to make any more big confessions while you’re inside me…” She runs her teeth over the skin below his ear as she slides her hand into his jeans and he nearly chokes. “And we should be fine.”

“Bloody hell.” His rational self may judge him later, but his current self has Emma Swan with her hand around his cock trying to get him out of his clothes and he’s already established that he’s not a very smart man. “I promise.”

***

It’s a strange feeling to be laying here, wrapped up in an old duvet and Star Wars sheets with Emma’s head on his shoulder and her fingers drawing patterns over his chest. They’ve never done this part, never lingered beyond the time it took them both to catch their breaths before untangling themselves from one another and going about their day - or tangling themselves again. He likes it, but it’s strange, new, something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not with anyone.

“This is kind of weird right?” she asks, breath warm against his neck.

Killian laughs. Bloody mind reader.

“Aye, a bit. I think I’m out of practice.”

“I never practised in the first place.”

He presses a kiss to her hair. “But, it’s not bad, right?” She can probably hear his stupid heart racing as he waits for her answer.

“No,” she shakes her head, sliding her arm around his waist and fitting herself more snugly against his side. “It’s not bad.” He can feel her smile against his skin, glad she can’t see the absolutely ridiculous one stretched across his own. They lay there a little longer, the room darkening with the earlier and earlier nights as he begins to dread the fast approaching hour where he’ll have to leave, until Emma shifts. “My neck hurts.”

“My arm’s asleep.”

She sits up and his arm is flooded with the sudden relief of no longer being squished, but he misses the warmth and the closeness of her immediately. He has two arms. Who really needs both? He’s done fine with one hand. “Where are you going?” he asks when she rises from the bed, reaching for his shirt that she tossed on the floor and he made himself leave there. ‘Do not fold your clothes while we’re in the middle of having sex or I swear I’ll put mine back on you fucking weirdo.’

“Thirsty,” she says as she finishes buttoning it. “You?”

“Aye, thanks.”

“Water? Or would you prefer rum?”

“Hilarious.” His stomach rolls, not finding her so funny. She certainly seems to think she is, smirking as she fetches two water bottles from the fridge. “You know you’re going to have to give me my shirt back this time. It’s the only one I’ve got.” At least until he finds out if the hotel hung onto his suitcase when he missed his checkout. “Unless you have the others squirrelled away here somewhere.”

“I thought you had ‘too many shirts, Swan,’” she reminds him in a poor imitation of his accent and he rolls his eyes. She hops back onto the bed, climbing into his lap to sit astride his hips. His hand and wrist settle on her waist, the shirt in question riding up and making him groan at the feel of her pressed against him.

“Aye well I’ve only got the one to wear out of here tonight and while you look infinitely better in it than I do -”

“Like a sexy Winnie the Pooh, would you say?”

He sighs. “I’m never living that one down am I?”

“You want to show me your hundred acre wood?” Killian lets his head fall back against the headboard as she laughs herself silly. “I have another solution,” she tells him, hands wringing nervously in the sleeves of his shirt. “I was thinking, maybe, since you’ve already missed your flight, and you probably don’t have a hotel room anymore, that you could stay here tonight. And maybe we could give that whole waking up together thing a shot.”

Her cheeks are flushed, freckles bright against the soft pink as she looks up from her hands to catch his eye. He kisses her hard enough that she’d have fallen right off his lap were it not for his arms holding her steady and close to him.

“That a yes?” she asks, mouth curling against his and he catches that smirking bottom lip between his teeth like he’s wanted to since she showed up at the station.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

She nods and it’s him smiling against her mouth now. “For tonight at least. But I think there’s still a lot of grovelling in your future before it becomes a regular thing.”

He kisses her again, rolls her onto her back beneath him. “Then I’d better get started right away,” he says, lips finding the length of her neck as he begins to work free the buttons of his stolen shirt.

“Well, you did promise you would write poetry about my boobs.”

“I what?” He looks up only to see her wearing the same confused frown as himself before her eyes widen with laughter and she covers her mouth with her hands.

“Oh my god. You haven’t seen your texts have you?”

Fuck.

*******

Tagging the usual people but let me know if you want to be removed or added!

@kmomof4 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @jennjenn615 @dramioneswan @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @kazoo5480 @lfh1226-linda @csalltheway @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @onceratheart18 @ownedbycaptainswan @teamhook @pirateprincessofpizza @lostintheskyfaraway @zaharadessert @thejollyroger-writer @ultraluckycatnd @justanother-unluckysoul @spartanguard @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @wefoundloveunderthelight @sailtoafarawayland @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @superchocovian @snowbellewells @xellewoods @sals86 @karlyfr13s @ouatpost @skairipakomtrikru @lonelyspectator12 @anmylica @alexa-fangirl-forever @inspiredbystardust @marcella2727 @paradiselady19 @koryandr @killiansprincss @goforlaunchcee @motherkatereloyshipper

#captain swan #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #cs angst #but also just a lot of funny drunk Killian #killian jones #captain hook #emma swan #this thing is ferral guys #I don't even know what this is but I hope you like it #silver hook #silver killian

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pricegouge · 24 days

Text

Fatted Rabbit, Part Four

Bearshifter!Price AU

rated M for later chapters

Part One

Note: a lot of this chapter is texting which I struggled to format on Tumblr's goddawful limited HTML. I've opted to display them as chats, but because Reader chapters are second person, I didn't want John's texts to appear as if they are coming from 'you.' So apparently he has himself saved on his phone as 'Price.' Bear with me. Do definitely recommend reading on AO3, it just looks a little better okay anyway, hope you enjoy!

Unknown Number

Unknown number: Good morning. Thanks for last night, I had a lot of fun!

Unknown number: Also, wanted to ask, as a seasonal local and therefore, I assume, an expert in local fauna, would you say this bear is insanely big or is that normal?

John smirks at the attached photo of himself, docile and friendly as he stares blankly back at the camera; big stupid animal eyes deceptively sweet. It had been hard to behave in that form, but it had been a cold night and he'd wanted to be sure she wasn't frozen stiff in her pathetic little den. He was coming to hate that thing, simultaneously teasing him with its threateningly mobile nature and infuriatingly abysmal quality. He wanted to bring her back to his own den, bury her in thick, warm blankets. Maybe tie her to the posts so he could sleep easy knowing she wasn't going to slip away the moment he closed his eyes. But he couldn't (yet), so he stalks her in his animal form and tells himself it's for her own good and he's satisfied with that.

But now.

Now.

John's eyes shift around the small distillery office, as if he somehow missed Simon lurking behind the door (he may have. Silent as the grave, that one) before he gives into the urge to tap the number at the top of his screen, letting his touch linger as he adds the contact. Even this - even just this - makes his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, his palms big and clumsy. He wants to lick his phone, is pissed when he can't smell her. It feels like snuffling for mushrooms and finding only arid dust and dirt. It is so much more than he had even just an hour ago, but it is not enough.

Bunny: Also is it normal that it just chilled in the parking lot all morning, or should I maybe be worried it's rabid?

Price: Never seen a grizzly that close before so I'm not sure, but I think that's a big one! That's awesome.

Probably not rabid. Some of them have gotten a little too comfortable with humans. Good thing you were in your car, though!

And then, because he's greedy:

Price: Hiking this morning?

Bunny: Well, not anymore 😂

John is antsy, whole body restless. He wants to shift into his other form, or maybe pull a tooth out of his head. He's not hard, but the urge to stroke his cock is there regardless, an ingrained stress relief that won't help him here, he knows. Not without her, at least.

Bunny: What are you up to today?

He wants to spend all day deciding if he likes her better as a fleshlight or a chew toy. Unfortunately…

Price: Interviews all morning and then meeting with a potential vendor later. Boring shite.

Price: You?

Bunny: Probably just reading or something. Boring shit.

He imagines her cozied up in her cute little den: soft, worn quilts and a soft, warm girl. He wants to crawl in with her, change the chemical makeup of the very air until she has to breath him in, too; let her deal with the torture of his scent same as he's done for her. His fingers are heavy on his screen again. He hopes she's kept his coaster. He hopes he's tainting her phone. He hopes the aggression with which he's digging his big greedy claws into her life is enough to make her stay.

Price: Sounds lovely.

Price: Trade you?

Bunny: Haha! Sure, I can definitely handle vendor meetings. No problem.

Price: Cute thing like you, I'm sure you'd be a natural.

Bunny: Well if that's all it takes, I'm sure you'll do great 😉

John can't help the happy chuff that escapes him. It's not an entirely human sound but he doesn't particularly care if Simon is lurking right this moment.

Price: Thanks, honey.

Price: What are you doing tomorrow?

Bunny: Hmm. Don't know. You tell me?

Price: Let's square up, yeah? Get you that coffee.

Price: There's a place over on Nucleus that's pretty good.

Bunny: Sounds great! What time?

Price: Early okay? I'll have to be back to work by 1400

Bunny: Sure. 10?

Price: See you then, bunny.

He finds Simon in the brewery. John held off investing in the equipment for years, refusing to tank the 141 just because Americans thought IPAs were good beers. Blessedly, the last year or so had shown people coming to their senses, ordering porters, lagers, and shandies more often than not. Simon had been elated (or rather, quite stoic but the mask had raised about a half inch on his face which meant the cheeks underneath were slightly dimpled) and had been obsessively perfecting a house ale ever since.

"Need you to take the lunch shift tomorrow." John would feel bad for the last minute schedule change if it were anyone else, but Simon doesn't really have a life outside of work or the gym, so he can deal.

As predicted, Simon just nods in acceptance. "Coffee?"

"Affirm. Also want you to sit in on the barkeep interview."

That gets a rise. "Why?"

"Distracted," John shrugs.

Simon's sigh is a full body thing. "This better not become a normal thing."

"I'll keep it in mind. Thirteen hundred, corner booth reservation." John may take some small pleasure in the other man's grunt of acknowledgement.

***

John hires the first three interviewees on the spot. One's a wait staff vet who he's confident can handle her own on the floor. The other two are young but seem competent and need to start their careers somewhere. Between them and his returning staff, he feels confident in the floor team but with Gaz back in uni, he needs a new barkeep which could make or break their season. They'll get tourists either way, but John prides himself on being one of the few seasonal shops that attracts a fair amount of locals which he knows he owes to Gaz's amiable and experienced presence. Without him, John's anxious to pick a suitable replacement, especially if he'll be busy wooing a mate all season.

He's prescreened a fair few, but only scheduled two interviews. He's hoping he'll be able to call the other lady tonight to tell her no need. It's a dick move but he's busy. Besides, she's very professional and he's confident she'll get another position soon - she's just a little too serious for his place.

Simon comes in through the kitchen and slides into the booth ahead of schedule. John is still waiting by the entry to let the man in when he shows up. The two men nod in greeting.

"Wot's the bloke's name, then?" Simon asks after a few moments.

"John MacTavish. Said to call him Soap."

"That's stupid." A pause while Simon's fingers thud against his phone screen. "'e a Scott?"

John isn't sure how Simon can always find people's social media, given he doesn't have any of his own. "Problem?"

"Not so long as he speaks the King's. How'd you manage to find another Brit anyway?"

"At this point I think they're finding me."

As if on queue, John spots the man in question ambling down the sidewalk. He's larger than John had expected, not quite as tall as John himself but decently muscled. Sharp blue eyes and a confident, charming grin. And a fucking mohawk of all things. His first instinct, oddly, is to keep this man away from his bunny, but close on its heels is the urge to make Simon deal with this smarmy bastard every day and he can't quite fight the grin creeping onto his face as he unlocks the door for the man.

Thankfully, Soap seems to take it for a welcoming smile, which he returns brightly as he extends a hand in greeting. "Price, I assume? Good to meet ye."

"Likewise, always nice to put a face to a name." John locks the door behind them again and ushers Soap to the big booth with a practiced, 'Please, step into my office.'

Simon, predictably, does not rise to greet the interviewee, instead choosing to stare Soap down balefully without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.

"Soap, my head brewer, Simon. Simon, this is John MacTavish."

To John's surprise - and, apparently, more so to Simon's surprise (which is a whole new surprise in itself because Simon is never caught off guard) - Soap slides into the opposite booth and extends his hand to Simon in one smooth move, face the very image of 'I see what you're doing here but I'm not entertaining it so play nice.'

Simon continues to stare for a beat longer, two, before accepting Soap's hand in a singular, gruff, suitably manly shake. When they separate, Soap is grinning like an idiot as he informs Simon about his preferred nickname.

"Not calling you that."

Soap shrugs, completely unaffected. "Well, 'bout to get real confusin' in here, then," he smiles at John.

"No worries, he calls me captain."

"Only when you've earned it." Despite the words, the insult is clear enough that even Soap smirks conspiratorially, eager to be let in on the joke.

John allows some more banter. It's useful in that it draws both the other men out of their respective shells. Simon becomes ever so slightly more professional, while Soap becomes quite a bit less. It's good, though, to see him relaxed in this space. This is the side that John had wanted to see, considering this is the side the customers would be dealing with. It's a good fit, and he's already feeling confident in his choice when they move onto drink choices. He knows he's got his man when Simon nods exactly once at an answer regarding crawfish of all things.

There's more handshakes, promises to be in touch. John locks up behind Soap and turns to find Simon staring after the man. "Well?"

Simon shrugs. "'e'll do."

John nods, eyes his right hand man critically. He knows Simon well enough to spot the difference between natural and affected stoicism. "We planning on selling crawfish this year?"

Simon shrugs again. An obvious tell; the man doesn't make inefficient movements more than twice an hour. "Wanted to stump him." John waits for him to elaborate, a venture he would lose any other day but… "'e's solid."

Well. He'd hoped the Scott would rile Simon's temper, but this might be better.

"Settled, then. I'll have him start next week."

Whether or not this pleases Simon, he doesn't say, simply turns and walks back out through the kitchen. Sighing, John checks the time and is glad to find he's running right on schedule, but upset there are no text notifications. It's probably unreasonable considering she only just gave him her number this morning, but good mates check in on each other and the lack of questions about his interviews leaves him a bit bereft. Still, he follows her lead and pockets his phone without sending any prompts of his own. It's difficult to keep his human suit on whenever she's involved, but he doesn't want to scare her away so he'll behave, even if it makes him want to eat a whole beehive, stingers and all.

***

The trip out to Whitefish is easy enough. John drives the company van to look more professional, but the smell bothers him and he's slightly agitated the whole meeting. The woman doesn't seem to mind. He's fairly certain she's flirting. It would probably be in his best interest to return fire a bit, but the thought makes his stomach roll and his teeth clench. In the end it doesn't really matter. They set up a small supply and she asks if he'd be interested in them featuring one of the blends in a house special. Bourbon ginger with orange. Very basic but the blend she chooses for it isn't right and it's a struggle not to bite her head off over it. He gives his input and she accepts which appeases him, but as he's leaving she winks and asks if he'd like to stay and give the drink a taste test. The rumbling noise he makes at that is a growl, technically, but he plays it off like a groan. Which isn't much better, probably, but at least it's human.

"No thanks. Gotta make it back for the dinner rush."

"Your place, then?" She's smirking, proud of herself. She smells like cleaning supplies.

It's out before he can think about it, "Sure, if you'd like to meet the missus."

The vendor splutters, surreptitiously inspects his hand. "I - I'm so sorry, I didn't realize -."

"Unofficial," Price quickly recovers. "Still committed." Christ, they haven't even been on a date yet, he needs to get his bloody act together.

"Well. She's a very lucky woman," the vendor simpers and John tries not to snort as he collects his things. Yeah, lucky rabbit, caught in his jowls while he assesses exactly how hard he can squeeze without losing her.

Attempting a warm smile, John thanks her for her time and hurries out the door. In the van, he checks his phone and scowls when his rabbit still hasn't initiated a conversation. He can't help it this time, shoots her something about the meeting with the vendor going well but he'd still rather have traded places. He doesn't take it personally when she doesn't respond right away, and then very much does take it personally when she still hasn't responded by the time he returns to the bar. He's surprised to find it open, Simon scowling at him from behind the counter. "You're late," the man accuses and John just smirks at him.

"And you still opened on time?" Simon doesn't react. Unfortunately, the alone time seems to have done him good. Still, John tries a little harder because he's antsy and wants a rise out of someone. "Angling for a good review?"

Not even so much as a 'well someone has to care about this place.' Damn.

"You staying on in the kitchen or heading out?"

"Seen enough of this place," Simon grumbles and slips out the back.

John spends a long boring shift talking with a pair of locals about fishing. He doesn't really go fishing in this form, but he knows his fair share about where to find what fish. It's the quiet sort of night he would have savored even just a few weeks ago, but every hour that goes by without a response from his rabbit has him growing more and more restless. He's not worried about her deciding to hike even with that bear around, of course, but there are plenty of other fates that could have befallen her. Poor rabbit, alone in the woods. Even her den was a dangerous thing, prone to crashes and gas poisoning depending on how she kept it heated. Or worse, if she kept it heated. He swears to all that's holy if he ends up losing her to hypothermia even though he's big and furry and feverish and right bloody here, he's going to lose it.

It's late when she finally deigns to respond. Like, 2300 late. He can't decide if he's more relieved or annoyed so he chooses to be excited instead.

Bunny

Price: For the record, I did win over the vendor.

Price: Still wish I could've been doing boring shite like reading all day.

Bunny: I never doubted you

Bunny: Howd the interview go?

Price: Good. Got some new waitstaff. Happy with the bartender.

Price: How'd not-hiking go?

Bunny: Boring as predicted. Put a good dent in this blanket though!

She sends a photo of a beautiful crocheted blanket, the rows zigzagging in a strange psychedelic pattern which is toned down by the easy earthy tones she's chosen.

Good mate, staying warm. Now all she needs is someone to snuggle up with.

Price: You made that?

Price: That's brilliant.

Bunny: Thank you! 😁

Bunny: I'm about to go cuddle up under it though so goodnight! Glad everything went well today

Bunny: I'll see you tomorrow

Price: Sleep well honey.

part five

#bearshifter!price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x you #john price x you #fatted rabbit

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parachutingkitten · 8 months

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A Totally and Completely Uneventful Night

A high school dewlet fic. This is part 2! Read part 1 here

“You sure this is right?” Dewey questioned, looking up towards the top of the mess of cardboard.

“It’ll all make sense in a second!” Violet assured him from the top of the ladder. “Just keep holding where I told you to!”

“I’m holding!” He answered back.

Prom set up had taken significantly longer than Dewey had imagined, but things seemed to be coming together pretty well. To think that Violet had somehow planned this all out baffled him.

“Okay, pull!” She called down.

Dewey did as he was told, tugging on his flap as, low and behold, the entire cardboard Eiffel Tower sprung into 3D in front of him. “Woah!” He marveled.

“I told you it would make sense!” Violet chuckled, beginning to climb down. “I can’t tell you how long I spent looking for the best Eiffel Tower possible.”

“I’m still not sure I get how that worked.” Dewey mused, eyes still stuck on the twelve foot marvel in front of him.

“That’s alright, as long as you think it looks okay,” She sighed, reaching the ground.

“You kidding, it’s awesome!” Dewey raised his hand for a victory high five, But was met with a rather distracted and limp response from Violet.

“Yeah, now we just need to do the balloons, set up the photobooth and…” Her eyes wandered as she thought “Crap! The popcorn! We still need to pull out the popcorn machine!”

Before Dewey could process what she had said, she had already started towards the exit, and he had to scramble to catch up with her.

“I can go get it if you need Vi-” He offered.

“No, I know where it is, it’ll be quicker if I go, you can-”

Before they could make it to the doors Webby came barreling in, followed shortly after by Huey. “We have a problem!” she announced.

Violet took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “What is it.”

They both hesitated a moment before Huey finally spoke up. “We… ran out of tape.”

“I told you this would happen!” Louie’s voice came from across the gym. He had been in charge of the table settings, one of the only tapeless jobs.

“How much more do you think you’ll need for the hallway?” Dewey asked.

“It doesn’t matter how much she needs, we don’t have any in here!” Louie pressed, his voice raspy in frustration.

“I mean, there’s got to be tape somewhere in the building,” Webby offered.

“Well, I’m not looking for it!” Louie again chimed in.

“We weren’t asking you to!” Violet snapped back. “Look, I’m headed to the storage closet with the popcorn machine. Webby, why don’t you come with me, there’s probably some tape in there too. And then you two can stay here and finish up the tables with Louie, yeah?” Her eye contact shifted across the group to attain an affirmative from everyone.

“Should we start on the photo booth after we finish those?” Dewey asked.

“That would be great, thanks!” Violet flashed him a smile as she started out the door with Webby in toe.

“Can I just say, I told you so,” Louie’s voice echoed from across the gym.

“Yes, we know,” Huey called back, starting over for him.

“I’m sorry, it just seems like I’m getting zero credit for one hundred percent calling it!” Louie complained as Dewey too began making his way over to him.

“Well, you’re very smart, and we’re all very impressed,” Huey rolled his eyes.

“Guys, Violet seems pretty stressed,” Dewey broke in. “Let’s just get this done as quickly as possible, we don’t need any more problems.”

“I don’t know,” Huey shrugged. “This seems like a pretty standard amount of hiccups for a set up this size.” He tossed Dewey one end of a tablecloth as they moved to set it over top of the many barren tables.

“Regardless, we should make sure everything is running smoothly so that Violet can actually enjoy the dance,” Dewey pressed.

“You mean everyone. So everyone can enjoy the dance, right?” Louie asked, bringing over a centerpiece as his brothers finished straightening the cloth. “You know, the whole student body that we’re doing this for, not to mention us?”

“Well, yeah,” Dewey agreed. “But also Violet. If anything goes wrong, she’s going to be the first one to have her night ruined, because she’s going to have to deal with it.”

“I guess…” Louie placed down the bedazzled bottle, eyeing the center of the table.

Dewey sighed. “It’s just, this is her last big project of high school, and I want everything to go well, because this is also our last chance to help her on one, you know?” Dewey thought he had reached the end of his argument, but words seemed to continue to make their way out of his mouth. “I mean, after this, we’re off to college, and if we let her down, that’s like, the last impression she has of us, and I don’t want her to think of a giant disaster ever time she thinks of me, I mean who knows if we’ll even get a chance to really have another big interaction before she’s gone forever, and I can’t let her leave thinking I’m some incompetent idiot, you know?”

Dewey had braced himself on the table, his brothers frozen in place. They exchanged a glance with each other, Huey being the first to speak up.

“You nervous about Violet leaving early?”

“Well, obviously,” Dewey sighed. “I mean, I haven’t really hung out with her all year, and now here we are at the end of it, and it feels like I missed out on a bunch of stuff I wanted to do with her or talk to her about or-”

“Dewey,” Louie stopped him. “Do you like Violet?”

Dewey’s eyes widened, his reflexes immediately prompting him to laugh. “What? No! I don’t… I mean I never really-” His expression began to blank as he contemplated the question. “I don’t think so.”

Louie hung his head in defeat “Oh my gosh, he doesn’t even realize-”

“Dude, if you think you have feelings for her, you need to tell her,” Huey advised. “Like, tonight.”

Dewey’s face had reddened significantly over the past few seconds, his hands now held behind his head, his mind desperately rushing to try and process the influx of new information. “What do I do?”

“Well, first off, you calm down,” Louie hit him on the shoulder.

“You wait until the night’s in full swing, a slow song comes on, you ask her to dance,” Huey started. “You small talk her during the dance, if she sticks by you after the song ends, you know she at least wants to spend more time with you, and that’s your opening. Go off into some corner, grab some snacks on your way, and then have your big discussion on feelings and life, you drop the bomb, and there you go!”

Dewey blinked, taking in the plan. “That seems a bit calculated.”

“Forget most of what he just said,” Louie waved him off. “But definitely ask her to dance, I mean it’s a dance, you gotta at least clear that barrier.”

“Guys I don’t know, it feels too late to try and make this a whole thing.” Dewey sighed.

“It’s never too late for love!” Huey pressed.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Louie shook his head. “At the very least, you should let her know that you’re feeling weird about her leaving. She at least deserves to know that you want to keep in contact.”

“Yeah… okay. That’s fair,” Dewey sighed. His eyes suddenly snapped back to his brother. “Wait, does this mean you didn’t ask Goselyn to the dance?”

“What?!” Louie exclaimed.

“Nothing, it’s just-” Dewey waved it off. “It’s me. I’m the drama.”

---

“I can’t believe Louie was right about the tape,” Webby mused as the girls made their way down the hall.

“I can’t believe I brought extra and it still wasn’t enough,” Violet sighed. “There should be some extra in here though.” Violet pulled out a ring of keys, quickly filling through them in search for the correct one.

“So… you’ve been doing a lot of set up with Dewey, huh?” Webby prodded.

“I guess,” Violet shrugged, unlocking the door. “There something wrong with that?” She entered the closet, flipping on the light switch.

Webby followed her in antsily. “No, it’s just, didn’t you used to have a crush on him?” she pressed.

Violet chuckled. “Yeah, when we were kids. That was like, over five years ago now.” Violet quickly found a cache of extra tape rolls and handed some to her companion. “What��s your point?”

“Nothing, it’s just, you know…” Webby shrugged.

“I’m sure I don’t.” Violet grabbed the handles of the popcorn machine, gently tilting it back to roll it out.

“Well, it seems like he might like you!” Webby finally blurted out. “And it’s never too late for romance-”

“Look, Dewey is great,” Violet cut her off as she wheeled the popcorn machine from its corner. “He’s sweet, and he’s exciting, but he’s just so much.”

Webby held the door wide for Violet as she maneuvered out the door, just barely big enough for the cart. “I think he’s just enough,” she countered.

“Well, that’s a matter of personal preference, isn’t it?” Violet waved her off, setting down the cart, and again reaching for her keys. “Besides, he’s such an unrealistic option to consider anyway.” Violet quickly locked up, turning to see Webby now playfully leaning against the side of the cart.

“So what, you think he’s out of your league or something?”

Violet narrowed her eyes, again taking hold of the metal handles. “Not by a long shot.” She tilted the cart up again, knocking Webby off. “You mind watching my front?”

“Sure,” Webby skipped forward, walking backwards in front of the cart as they started back towards the gym. “So what is it? He’s not good enough for you?”

“I just don’t think we’d mesh.”

Webby stared at her, fidgeting with the tape boxes in her hands. “I don’t get it. You’ve been meshing all day just fine.”

“Are you kidding? The nerdiest girl in school ends up with the endless ball of energy and confidence that’s headlined every performance based event at the school this past year?” Violet pressed. “You think that’s something other than an unrealistic pipe dream of a plot for a rom-com?”

“So you do think he’s out of your league,” Webby smiled.

“I just think we run in different circles,” Violet corrected. “Look, it’s not about him, or me, or us, it’s just not an option on the table, okay?!”

There was a loud thud as the cart hit the side of a doorway, the conversation and their movement both coming to abrupt halt.

“Sorry, that one’s on me,” Webby whispered.

Violet dropped the cart again, a weighty sigh leaving her lips. “I spent so long hung up on him,” she admitted. “I dropped so many hints, I tried so hard to get his attention… and I could never seem to grasp it. I don’t know if he was oblivious or trying to politely turn me down, but either way it’s pretty clear he didn’t have any feelings for me.”

“But what if that’s changed? Isn’t it worth-”

“I decided a long time ago that having a crush on Dewey Duck was far more work than it was ever going to be worth,” Violet cut her off. “I still like Dewey. I think there’s part of me that always will. But it’s not worth the time and the energy and the tedium of considering all of the maybes and could haves and what ifs. I’ve already done it for ages and it’s gotten me nowhere. I’m not willingly putting any more time into that system.”

Webby’s impulses wanted to counter her again, but the regret on her friend’s face stopped her.

“I just… I can’t handle getting my hopes up again.” Violet shook her head. “Not with him.”

#man it's been a while #like three years a while #how did that happen?#promise the next update won't take that long #yes every chapter is going to be about the tape #ducktales #dt 2017 #dewey duck #violet sabrewing #dewlet #writing

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cleoselene · 6 months

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had a meeting with my neurologist today, the 3 month long talk meeting we have, and lmao. he just got back from vacation in Italy and I was like, "did you have a nice trip?" and he was like "ehhhhhh! I was on a plane for 23 hours to look at some old church! I would have rather stayed home with my dog." and I was like looool. I feel this. Then he started saying how it was depressing to look at the old medieval church shit, saying "some guy 500 years ago spent his whole life making this one part of the church. and that was his WHOLE LIFE!" and I was all "well... I suppose it's better than toiling in the fields for your lord?"

I think he really enjoys my visits because we spend most of it having bullshit conversation. the nurses have told me that they enjoy younger patients like me because a lot of the older patients have bad dementia and can't really hold a conversation. after Italy bashing, we had a discussion about the Great Depression Midwestern Casseroles we were raised on in our childhoods. His mom was a cream of chicken soup lady, though, whereas my household was always on the cream of mushroom side. Horrible fucking food, lol. Just the worst.

anyway, another reason I love him is because he is EQUALLY as over the bullshit the state of Florida makes us go through to secure my 120 pain pills every month. He HATES that he can't put in refills anymore, lol, and today I asked him to refill it like I do every month, and CVS sent me a text later in the day saying I needed to contact them because the prescription was "on hold." And I'm like bzuh? and then I notice my doc submitted the script three times when I went online, and called and hahaha. He submitted three SEPARATE scripts for the next three months to get around the "no refills" thing and this is something that CVS is very 50/50 about handling lol. In the past they have let him do it but they have also been like "lol NO" when he's tried it before too. Tonight the pharmacist got utterly confused by it and did not understand what the doctor was doing and said that insurance tried to process it three times, which lol. All because he doesn't feel like having to send an electronic script every month. I FEEL U, DOC. THE HOOPS THEY PUT SICK PEOPLE THROUGH TO GET MEDS ARE SO FUCKED.

but like, bless him? he NEVER gives me shit about maintaining my script, never tells me maybe I should wean myself off, never whines about the state putting pressure on him. He just fills it and lets me have what I need. I hate hate hate Florida but I am seriously worried that when I move my next neurologist will not be as totally awesome as mine. It wasn't like I got lucky with him, either, I cycled through three other neurologists (none of whom were MS specialists and weren't even capable of properly diagnosing me let alone treating me) before I found my guy! And he's just about the sweetest person you could meet and brings his aforementioned dog he'd rather hang out with than visit the Vatican to work with him sometimes. The good news is he networks like crazy and probably will be able to refer me to someone great. His referrals are always awesome, too. He does a lot of travel and speaking at conferences because he's a clinical researcher so he knows people, and I'm hoping he'll know the right person to refer me to when the time comes to escape this hellscape state

#multiple sclerosis #i might have a mild crush on my doctor #but it's just because he's so gentle and sweet and kind and compassionate #also he's tall and plays the guitar lol

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hide-in-imagination · 1 year

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"Roads That Cross... With Memories"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1),(2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26)

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

Happy early Christmas, everybody! ♡

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

In the blink of an eye, three whole days had passed since the return of Juliana. The Roller was lively, the music and the colors seeming more vibrant now that everything was back to how it used to be. Well, not everything, but as Nina’s fingers flew around the keyboard, the familiar sound of typing joining the cheery voices of her friends, she contemplated that things were always changing, nothing ever stayed the same forever, and that was okay because it allowed growth.

Luna wasn’t the same now that she knew who she truly was, but she’d gained more family and the ability to finally let go of the wondering and the empty space. Nico was no longer there, but he’d left for New York chasing his dreams. Nina herself would soon be graduating high school and doing God knows what. Something related to writing, for sure. She had some ideas, but it was still hard to imagine that by this time next year she’d be at university. Her life, and everyone’s lives, were going to change so much, and in ways only the future could tell.

All of this she wrote on her laptop— Her musings about time and how fast it went by. Permanence. Change. Future. Her mind was full of these things because time, slowly and tortuously, had snuck up on her.

Gastón would be flying back to England tomorrow.

Nina’s fingers stumbled and stopped their typing. Procrastinating writing philosophical thoughts was probably not a good idea. It helped her think though, and think she had, all these days, exhaustively. She didn’t think she’d thought this much about Gastón since when she was first crushing on him years ago.

She also thought a lot about herself. About what she wanted.

She thought of Eric too.

She even thought of Xavi, sweet Xavi, and of a hundred hypothetical guys she could maybe meet in the future.

Future. Past. Possibilities. Fears. Wishes.

In the end, even if she rationalized everything and tried to find the right answer like in the question of a test, what really mattered were her feelings.

There was no ‘right’ answer because no one knew what would happen— She could only decide on what she wanted.

And she did.

Taking a deep breath, Nina grabbed her phone to follow through on what she had set out to do this morning. She tapped her screen, going through different chats until she found his contact.

N: Can we talk this afternoon?

N: I have my answer.

*************************

Keen eyes looked through documents; checking, evaluating.

“Okay, as far as I see it, everything’s in order.” Ana smiled. “This event is going to be great.”

Ámbar placed a hand on her chest and sighed in relief. “Thank you so much, Ana.” She received the papers from her and tucked them in the folder. “I want this to be the best Roller Jam ever. You’re invited, by the way.”

Ana laughed lightly. “Thank you, I’d love to come.” She put her phone and pen back into her purse and began to stand. “I’ll get going now, I have a hearing in a couple of hours.”

“Yeah— Oh! Ana! Before I forget.” Ana stopped to hear her. “Could you contact that accountant friend you told me about and see if they can come here one of these days?” Ámbar asked. “Because with the Open Music I could somehow manage, but this event is bigger and there’ll be a lot more things to consider, I could really use their help.”

“Of course,” Ana said with a smile. “I’ll call her later and ask her, but I don’t think she’ll have any problem.”

“Awesome. Thank you so much, Ana,” Ámbar said for maybe the fifth time that day, but she was truly a godsend. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re completely welcomed.” Ana waved as she walked away. “See you later, Ámbar.”

“See you!”

Ámbar grabbed her notepad and scratched ‘Check the documents with Ana’ out of her To-do list. The preparations for the Roller Jam had been going smoothly thus far. She had shown Simón some reference pics she’d found on the internet of Día de los Muertos decorations and he’d helped her pick what would work best for the event. The budget was approved by Vidia and she had almost all planned out. To be honest, she thought she could have this done in a matter of days if it were only the Roller Jam she had to worry about, like back when she did the Flash Open, but now she had her everyday manager responsibilities on top of it, which left her very little time to work on the event.

She’d thought of just doing it in her free time, but Simón quickly advised her against it. ‘If they’re not paying you for pulling extra hours, don’t do them; it’s not worth it. I learned that years ago.’ Sometimes she forgot that he had so much work experience. She felt sorry for him for having felt the need to start working so young, but she also admired him a lot for it. He knew so many things that she didn’t, like something as crucial to life as cooking a meal, and he always gave his best at everything he did. She hoped that he could live his dream soon. He was a great musician and he deserved to be recognized for it, he deserved to give his best at what he really wanted to do.

And then… what about her?

Ámbar paused with her pen in hand. It wasn’t like being the manager of the Roller was her life dream. After this job was over… what would she do with her life? What did she want to do?

She spent some minutes looking at the document in front of her, pretending to read it while actually contemplating life.

A presence came up to her table.

“Hey, Ámbar.”

Ámbar looked up, snapping out of her thoughts. She was immediately surprised. This was unexpected.

“Can I talk to you?” Matteo asked her, hesitant, probably because he also knew how unusual this was. “As in, in private?”

Ámbar’s brows drew together a little. “Uh… Sure.” It was a strange request but she saw no reason to say no. It wasn’t like she was being very productive at the moment.

She stood from her seat and Matteo walked towards the dressing room, so she followed him there. Once inside, she closed the door behind her. “What’s up?”

“Well, first of all, I wanted to say that I really like your Día de los Muertos idea for a Roller Jam,” Matteo said. “We were all worried, to be honest, when you first became the Roller’s manager, but I gotta admit, you’ve come up with very good things since then, and I think you deserve some credit.”

Ámbar blinked. Okay… had she entered some alternate dimension without her knowing or something? Why was Matteo telling her this? “Wow, um, thank you…? I’m doing my best to be the best manager I can be,” she said.

“Of course, of course. And the best girlfriend you can be too,” Matteo added, this time jokingly. “Should I be offended that you never threw an Italian party for me while we were dating? Nor did you do it for Benicio. Now that I think about it—Do you know if Simón has any Italian heritage? Maybe you have a type.”

She liked him better when he was being formal and appreciative.

“I’m trying to forget I ever dated you, and Benicio was nothing more than a momentary lapse of judgment,” she said coolly. “Now, is there a point to this conversation?”

Matteo looked nervous again. “Right. Yes. I, um… I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

Of course. “And what would that be?”

“Would it be possible for me to perform a song at the Roller Jam?”

Ámbar frowned a little. “Um… I mean, Simón and Luna are gonna sing one, but you’re not from México, Matteo. Why do you wanna sing? To promote your new song?”

Matteo averted his gaze, hesitant. “I’m not from México…” He said slowly, “…but Luna is.”

Ámbar’s brows shot to her hairline and her jaw dropped.

“I wanna do a surprise for her,” Matteo said fast while she snorted in disbelief, “so if you could also not tell anyone that I’ll be singing, that’d be great. It’d only be one song—”

“You do realize that you’re asking me, your ex, to do a surprise for the girl you dumped me for.”

“I broke up with you for many reasons; only one of them was Luna. And you broke up with me too— And,” he added quickly before she could refute, “didn’t you just say that you wanted to forget we ever happened?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

Matteo looked away and tucked his hands in the pocket of his pants. “For what is worth… I’m sorry for how I acted during our relationship. I know I wasn’t the best boyfriend, especially the Luna thing… Though, in my defense, Gastón was the one who dared me to make her fall for me.”

“Gastón did what?” And he had the audacity to act all goody-goody? “Oooh, I hope Nina doesn’t forgive him,” she spat. It was common knowledge to everyone with eyes that Gastón was hoping for something with Nina judging by the longing stares he sent her 24/7. After this? Ámbar was tempted to introduce her to another guy herself.

“Hey, I was the one who listened to him.”

“I know,” she told him with a glare; he wasn’t even subtle about it.

A flash of shame passed across Matteo’s face much to Ámbar’s satisfaction. Good. Now they could lay this whole thing to rest. “Thank you for the apology,” she said in a kinder tone. “You’re two years late, but I guess it’s better than never.”

“Well, with the way you were acting, I didn’t feel much like apologizing to you.”

She glared at him again. Fair. Didn’t mean she had to admit it.

“You’re still asking me for a favor, remember?” She said. That shut him up. “And I was not the only one insufferable— In fact…” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What about Simón?”

Matteo frowned. “What about him?”

“Well, you were unfaithful to me, but you antagonized him for two years straight, including when you publicly humiliated him in that Vidia interview. Did you apologize to him?” She asked with indignation.

Matteo stared at her for a moment with a silly face. “Wow. Who would’ve thought you’d ever get this defensive over someone other than yourself.”

“Matteo.”

He sighed, getting back to the point. “I tried, some time ago. He didn’t let me. He told me to forget about it, that it was all in the past. That I’m a different person now and he is happy we’re friends.”

Ámbar deflated and face-palmed. “Of course, he did.” She looked to the side with mild annoyance. “I can’t believe I’ll have to get angry in his stead for the rest of my life.”

“Or… you could learn from him and don’t hold grudges,” Matteo suggested.

Ámbar looked at him like he was insane. “Do you even know me at all?” She extended her hand in greeting. “Hi, Ámbar Smith, we dated for years, do you recall?”

Matteo laughed slightly, and for a moment it looked like that would be all— they’d buried the hatched, finally. But then his face clouded with worry. “You’re treating him right, right?”

For the second time in this conversation, Ámbar’s jaw dropped to the underworld. “Oh my god, I can not believe this— Another couple’s counselor!” She threw her hands up. “They’re just everywhere these days!”

Matteo frowned confusedly. “Another?”

“I’m not gonna talk about my relationship with you Matteo,” Ámbar told him in all seriousness.

“I just wanted to make sure—” She gave him a pointed look. “Okay, fine, I get it,” he backed off. He stared at her. “So…”

“So?”

“Can I perform at the Roller Jam?”

Ah right, that.

Ámbar narrowed her eyes, calculating.

“You would owe me a big favor,” she started. “Immediate the moment I call it in; non-negotiable. If I decide I want you to repay me by singing ‘Pocket full of sunshine’ dressed in a bright yellow duck costume in front of the whole Roller, you do it.”

Fear flickered in Matteo’s eyes. “…Simón wouldn’t let you do that to me.”

Ámbar smiled. “Simón would be the first to want to see that.”

Matteo remained quiet.

Ámbar offered him her hand, smiling wide and devilishly. “Do we have a deal?”

Matteo looked at her hand with clear reluctance and sighed. He shook it. “Deal. But please have mercy.”

Oh, how she loved having power over someone.

“I make no promises.”

******************

As tedious as handling the lockers could be sometimes, there were occasions in which the peace and quiet could be very useful. Lately, for Simón, the downtimes in this room had been the perfect opportunity to work on new songs.

He spun his pen around in his hand, staring down at the words he’d written on his notepad.

Es la fuerza que golpea fuerte al corazón

La fuerza incalculable que hay en una canción

Un volcán de cosas buenas que entra en erupción

That was it, those were all the lyrics he had for now for this song. He couldn’t even call it a song yet. It was more like a concept, but he liked it, so he’d written it down so he wouldn’t forget. They had other songs in the making with Pedro currently, more romantic ones, some fast, some slow. Those were far more developed than this, so maybe, he thought, he should be working on finishing those instead of pondering over random words that came to him, but who was he to question inspiration? Nothing would ever start if he did.

Not like he was having much luck at coming up with anything beyond these three verses. But, well, that wasn’t unusual.

He had the beginnings of a melody though, like a tiny spark that if he managed to fuel enough could turn into a full-blown bonfire. He started humming and left his pen on the counter. Maybe focusing on the melody first was the way to go for this one.

Loud, sharp footsteps and voices snapped him out of his reverie and made him turn his head to the left just as a woman stormed in, followed closely by a glaringly worried Eric who looked like he’d sprinted to reach her.

Simón remembered this woman. She had come in here with her son only 15 minutes earlier or so.

He did not remember her glaring at him like this back then.

The woman seethed. “You.”

Simón abandoned all thoughts of lyrics and music.

This was not good.

*****************

Ámbar had just sat down mere minutes ago when the commotion reached her.

She lifted her head from her papers just in time to see a woman furiouslywalking up to her. She was pulling a little boy by the hand with her, and Simón and Eric appeared right behind them, concern on their faces.

The woman looked middle-aged or maybe younger. She had short, dark blond hair and wore a wine-colored open cardigan over a black floral top. A mom look if she had ever seen one. She stood right in front of Ámbar’s table, her whole stance one of outrage. “You’re the manager?”

Ámbar straightened up and stood from her seat immediately. “Yes, is there a problem?”

“My son just fell down in the middle of the rink because the skates you provided had stuck wheels,” the woman fumed. She showed her the skates in question, lifting them momentarily with her free hand. “Look at him, he could’ve broken something for your negligence! How is this possible?!”

Ámbar gave a good look to the boy next to her. He didn’t look older than eleven. The resemblance with his mother was obvious in the matching sand blond hair and features. He was wearing a Spiderman t-shirt and jean shorts, which left in plain sight his bleeding right elbow and knee. He looked like he’d been crying.

Ámbar swallowed and stretched out her hand. “Can I see the skates?”

The woman handed her the skates and Ámbar checked the wheels immediately, swiping them down with her right hand to make them spin. Indeed, two wheels weren’t working, one on each skate— They were completely tightened up.

“See?” The woman said with indignation. “Who wouldn’t fall with skates like that? My son has been rollerskating since he was five years old— He never would’ve fallen if it weren’t for those things!”

Ámbar could’ve pointed out that even professionals fall sometimes in this sport, that skating of any kind comes hand in hand with falling, but she gathered it was in her best interest to not agitate this woman even more.

She looked at Eric, who was standing by the tables in front of the stage, watching everything that was happening with a worried expression. And he was not the only one— Delfi and Jazmín were a few tables over there, not to mention at least four other customers who were listening to all of this. This was bad.

“Eric, could you please bring the emergency kit from the dressing room? Quickly.” Seeing him following her command, Ámbar looked back at the woman. “I’m so sorry this happened,” she said, heartfelt. “You can treat his wounds here, you should have everything you need.”

The woman only looked offended. “And you think that is enough? Look at my son!” The kid’s gaze was on the floor, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but there as his wounds shone bright red. “I will not allow this establishment to work like this! I want restitution and I want that boy fired!”

She pointed her finger at Simón, who was standing close to the bar. His face paled, and Ámbar’s heart jumped to her throat. “If he goes around handing defective skates, I don’t want to even imagine how many more people have gotten hurt! Do you even train your employees in this establishment?!”

Ámbar’s heart was pounding in her chest. She’d never had to deal with a situation like this. Sure, she’d gotten many scoldings from her godmother over the years, but this was different. She was the authority figure here, she was the one that was supposed to have everything in control, she was the one who had to take responsibility and fix this because it was her job, her subordinates, her establishment.

The woman’s attitude annoyed her. Her suggestion that the Roller as a whole sucked annoyed her. ‘Train their employees’? No one had trained her in how to become a manager— they just threw the position onto her hands and now she had to deal with this.

Ámbar clenched her hands, the only crack in her composure she would allow, the only outlet for her nervousness she’d concede. She had a problem at hand and she had to find a solution. Anything else could come later.

“I can assure you that measures will be taken so that something like this never happens again,” she spoke conciliatorily, with all the professionalism she could muster. “The well-being of our customers is our number one priority. As for restitution, if it’s alright with you, you and your son can order anything you want in the cafeteria, free of charge.” Eric approached her then, handing her the emergency kit she’d requested. Ámbar offered it to the woman. “Here, you can treat him while you wait for your orders.”

The woman was still in a huff but she accepted the medical box and followed Pedro as he led them to a table on the other side of the Roller.

Simón went to Ámbar when they were out of earshot.

“Ámbar, I swear I don’t know how it happened,” he said, earnest, distressed. “I check the skates and do maintenance every day— Those wheels should’ve been fine.”

“Are you certain you checked every single one of them?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“Yes!” He repeated, slightly exasperated. Tensions were running high and she could see in his face that her not immediately believing him hurt, but she had to ask, it was her job.

Ámbar looked at the woman on the other side of the cafeteria. She was treating the kid’s wounds. Pedro walked over, returning to the bar, probably to prepare whatever beverage or meal they had asked for.

“Pedro,” she called him over. “Come here for a bit.” She looked to the side. “Eric, you too.”

She rounded up the three guys in front of her.

“New policy,” she declared. “Each time you supply rental skates, you will check the wheels right at the moment you hand them out, in front of the client’s eyes. Understood?”

They all nodded. “Yes, Ámbar.”

“Good.”

Eric raised his hand shyly. “Um, what will happen with the woman?” He asked with apprehension. “She told you to fire Simón, but you’re not going to do that, right?”

Two tables over, Jazmín snorted. “She’s not gonna fire her own boyfriend.” Delfi shot her a look. “What? We were all thinking it.”

Ámbar glanced at Simón and her heart fell at how ashamed he looked.

She shot a glare at Jazmín but kept her voice professional. “I will do no such thing because it’d be too extreme for an isolated event in which no real harm was done.” She fumed. “That woman should be grateful I even let her order for free because his son only got a scratched elbow and knee, and nothing assures me that he wouldn’t have fallen just as bad on his own even with perfectly good skates.”

Everyone stayed silent, subdued by the tension that permeated the air.

Ámbar sighed. “Anyway, you’re dismissed, get back to work. Pedro, once you have the total of the woman’s order, you bring the receipt to me, okay?”

“Yes, Ámbar.” He walked away.

She turned. “And Jazmín, please, don’t make a video out of this.”

Jazmín pouted. “But it’s so—”

“No. It would reflect badly on the Jam & Roller. I assume you don’t want anything to happen to this place?” Jazmín looked chastised. “That’s what I thought.”

Everything else handled, she walked toward Simón, who was still standing by the bar.

“Take the rest of the day off, okay?” She told him gently. “We’ll talk later, don’t worry.”

Simón just nodded and walked away, his gaze not meeting hers at all. Ámbar wished she could go with him, he looked really affected by this, but she still had a situation to deal with.

Drawing in a breath, she squared up her shoulders and got back to work.

****************

To be honest, Gastón had all but assumed by now that her answer was no.

He knew he should have some hope, but a big part of him had seen the calendar move forward, the day before his flight arrive, and gathered that, if he left tomorrow without Nina saying anything, wasn’t that answer enough? There was still time, yes, but he couldn’t stop the calamitous thoughts swirling through his brain, telling him that she could just not have the heart to tell him no directly and so she was just waiting for him to leave as a way to soften the blow.

Maybe that’d be okay. He had put her in an uncomfortable position to begin with— Maybe it was fair for it to end in whichever way she found easier.

That was what he’d been thinking until he got her texts.

‘Can we talk this afternoon? I have my answer.’

Gastón’s heart had leaped to his throat. It still seemed to be there now, as he made his way to the park where they decided to meet, the same one where they had… where he had called things off. He couldn’t help but wonder if that meant something.

He tried to steady himself as he walked toward their meeting place. Whatever Nina’s answer was, he had to take it, good or bad. He wished he had an inkling of what to expect. During the past few days they’d talked some, but only in passing and with their friends around. He had no idea what was going through her head, and he wished that every single glance he saw her exchange with Eric, every single word or smile, didn’t make him assume the worst, but they did.

The thing was, regardless of what Nina chose, his life would carry on the same way. He would still miss her every minute of every day. The only difference would be in the quality of that pain— It could either be bittersweet, or a dark void he’d had to pull himself out of.

As Gastón neared the appointed spot, he saw Nina in the distance, sitting on a bench already, her hands joined together on her lap. She saw him too and stood, waiting as he approached. She was wearing a cute navy-blue dress; a cardigan and black tights for the cold.

She looked pretty.

She always looked pretty.

“Hi,” she said when he reached her.

She was smiling, even if nervously. That was a good sign, right?

“Hi,” he said back, and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Um, I didn’t get the time wrong, did I? Did you wait long for me?”

Nina’s eyes widened. “Nonono, I just got here a few minutes ago,” she reassured him. “I— I was too nervous and couldn’t stay still,” she admitted, “and, by the time I realized it, I was already here.”

He cracked a small smile. “I get the feeling.” He couldn’t blame the weather for the sweat on his palms after all.

There was a little silence which he took the lead to break. “Um, should we sit or…?”

Nina looked at the bench. “Um, no, like this is fine.”

Gastón’s heart fell. That had to be a bad sign.

“Okay,” he said either way.

The park they were in was very frequented by high schoolers and kids in the early hours of the afternoon, but thankfully, it was almost empty this close to the evening. Gastón wouldn’t like to be seen by any bystanders right now. Was the nervous energy between them as painfully obvious as he felt it? If anyone passed by right now, could they tell his heart was crashing against his ribs?

The lack of people made the silence between them even more evident. A silence which both of them tried to break at the same time.

“You first,” Gastón said after the mishap.

“Nono, you go first, it’s fine,” Nina told him.

Gastón changed his weight from one foot to the other. “Well… Nothing, I just…” He took a breath and mustered the strength to look her in the eyes. “I just wanted to say that, whatever your decision is, I respect it. I won’t be mad or anything, it’s alright.” Eventually, it would be.

Nina looked down, nervous. “Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few days…” She was fidgeting with her hands. “And I think that…” Her eyes looked at his, just for a moment. Then they drifted. To his jacket, to a spot behind him. “…considering our history, the statistics and all that, the chance of us working out long distance is very low.”

Oh.

The air seemed knocked out of his lungs. “Oh.”

So he had hope until now.

Gastón had seen withered plants before. He never thought he’d ever feel like one.

“Because, I mean, we already tried it once, and it didn’t work,” Nina said, more quickly. Maybe it was a new tactic; rip it off like a Band-Aid, make the pain last less. “Repeating the same factors in the same conditions and expecting a different result is not… very realistic.”

Gastón focused on breathing through the growing lump in his throat. “Right,” he managed to say. His voice came out weaker than he would’ve liked, but at least it sounded steady.

He wanted to scream that it wasn’t the same. That he wasn’t the same. That he knew better now. That he’d never make the mistake of letting her go again.

He gulped. Gulped it all down. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

His head was in disarray. Now what? What was he supposed to say? He had to reassure her, probably. It’s okay, I understand, he had to say.He had to say it. He willed the words to leave his mouth. It’s okay, I understand, can we still be—?

“But I don’t care.”

Gastón blinked. He realized that at some point his gaze had fallen, because when he brought it back up, he found Nina’s eyes, staring directly at him. She wasn’t fidgeting, she wasn’t looking at his shoes— Her eyes were on his.

They stayed on his.

“I don’t care,” she said again, determined, light, with the beginning of a smile pulling on her lips. “My heart doesn’t care if it’s impossible or if it’s a one-in-a-million chance— I want to be with you.” She moved closer. “Even if it means only talking to you through the phone or seeing you in a screen, I want to be with you, Gastón. Because I love you. So much. And I need to give my heart a chance of being happy. I need to know if this could work. And… and if it doesn’t, well, I tried. We tried. But I won’t give up without having given it my all.”

The words fell from her lips like light itself; bright, hopeful, and heartfelt. Her eyes were shining. Maybe she herself was light.

Gastón had been wrong before. She wasn’t just pretty— She was dazzling.

A soft smile grew on his face. “I always knew you were braver than me, Nina Simonetti.”

He took the final step towards her and cradled her face in his hands.

“I promise that this time I’ll give it my all too.” He stared into her eyes and her hands went to hold the back of his own. “Because if there is one thing in this world that is worth it, it’s you.”

Nina smiled. She smiled big, with teeth and all, and her eyes were a little wet, making them shine brighter.

Gastón could’ve stared at them forever, but there was something else more pressing.

Nina surged to meet him when he leaned down for her lips. The wave of warmth and affection that flooded him couldn’t be put into words— There was nothing that could describe the utter joy, relief, love that filled his chest and spread through his veins at the feeling of her mouth pressing against his, soft and perfect. He had missed kissing her too much. He had missed her too much.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and his circled her waist, holding her close.

No more names in the sea— No more fate. They would make their own destiny, because this was something worth fighting against all odds.

*******************

When Simón was accused, back in Cancún, of having taken money out of the register, it’d been an unpleasant moment but he didn’t worry too much because he knew it was Benicio and not him who did something wrong.

When that customer had come to confront him that afternoon, he hadn’t known what to do. Anything he said sounded like an excuse and she didn’t stop to listen to him much either. Simón only remembered feeling this humiliated after the Vidia interview, but even then he’d had someone to blame, and the option to escape the situation. This time, he had neither.

Simón walked straight to the mansion after Ámbar released him from work, not in the mood to do anything else. Only when he arrived did he hesitate. Usually, he always went to Ámbar’s room, but this time, he didn’t know if he should do it. He’d caused trouble for her today. A customer had yelled at her today because of him, and he couldn’t even give explanations because he didn’t think he was guilty, but he felt guilty— It was hard not to when that woman kept pointing at him and demanding he be punished for his failure.

‘She’s not gonna fire her own boyfriend.’

That only made him feel worse; he shouldn’t get any special treatment.

In the end, Simón waited for Ámbar in her room anyway. She’d told him they would talk later and it seemed like a cowardly move to make her walk all the way to his guest room to find him. He took a shower to relax a bit and put on some comfortable clothing he kept in Ámbar’s room. He had like two drawers for himself now. At that moment, he didn’t know if that was nice or if it made him feel like an intruder.

He turned on the TV but he was too anxious to really pay attention to what was happening on the screen. Mostly, it just added background noise to his worries. He turned it off immediately when Ámbar walked in two hours later. He didn’t know what to expect. He thought maybe she’d be angry at him or act awkwardly around him because of what happened, but much to his surprise, Ámbar greeted him like normal. She sat next to him on the bed’s edge and asked how he’d spent his free afternoon. He recounted what little he’d done with uncertainty still hanging over him.

It didn’t take long for Ámbar to show that she was angry— At the customer.

“…she ordered more food than they could eat and asked for it to be packed to go— That woman was a freaking leach,” she was currently venting, telling him how she’d spent the rest of her afternoon. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d even suspect she tightened the wheels herself. Of course, money is not an issue, but it annoys me that I have to pull money out of my own wallet for that woman.”

Simón, who’d been listening with his gaze down, lifted his head upon hearing that. “Yours?” He said, appalled. “No, you don’t need to pay for it, I thought it’d be discounted from my salary.”

Ámbar’s brows drew together. “That wouldn’t be fair, you didn’t do anything.”

Simón scoffed weakly. “Exactly.”

She held his hands and looked at him earnestly. “No, seriously, my love, I know it wasn’t you. Or any of the guys.”

It was Simón’s turn to frown. “How do you know that?” Had any new information come to light after he was gone?

Ámbar let go of his hands and sighed, looking away from him. Her face looked glum suddenly, like whatever her answer was was not something she wanted to say. “You hadn’t arrived in Buenos Aires yet,” she started, “but did Luna ever tell you that she fell during her test to be the rink assistant because the skates they gave her were defective?”

Simón felt like he was stuck in a state of confusion by this point. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way. He tried to remember. “…Yeah, now that you mention it, I vaguely recall that.”

“Well…” Ámbar brought her hand together on her lap. “The reason why that skate had a stuck wheel was that I tightened it in secret right before her test.”

His face must have shown his utter bafflement because Ámbar turned to face him quickly, making placating gestures with her hands. “I know, I know, it was wrong, she could’ve broken something— I just really hated her at the time. I lowkey hoped she broke something.”

“Ámbar!”

“I’m sorry, okay?” She said painfully. “I can’t change what I did, but I promise I won’t do anything like that again. Not to her, not to anyone.”

Simón schooled his aghast expression, although he was still reeling from her admission, but he could see the earnest look in her eyes and he believed her.

“Anyway, that experience shows me that it’s actually very possible for someone to sneak into the lockers, tinkle with some skates, and leave with no one being the wiser.”

“You’re saying that’s what happened now?” He asked. “But who would do that?”

Ámbar scoffed. “Who else? Benicio and Emilia, of course,” she said, pissed off. “Or one of them, I don’t know. But it was at least one of them, I’m sure of it.”

Annoyance flared inside Simón as well. He shook his head in disbelief, at both them and himself for not thinking of that before— God, it was so obvious. “I can’t believe them, what did they gain from this?”

“Bother you, bother me, or maybe they just get off on wreaking havoc,” Ámbar said, and bent down to discard her boots.

Simón looked at her. “Why don’t you ban them from the Roller?” After this, she had to, right?

Ámbar sighed, sitting criss-cross on the bed. “I thought about it, but I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I don’t have proof that they did anything and, even though the Red Sharks team doesn’t exist anymore, Vidia knows them. I’m…” She looked to the side, “honestly scared of what they could say to my superiors if I try to ban them.”

Any lingering annoyance, tension, or worry from the day’s events evaporated at the look on her face. Simón reached over to hold her hand in his own. “You’re scared they might fire you,” he realized.

“Yeah.” She looked at their joined hands. “I mean, this is not my ideal job or anything. But the Roller is my ideal place. Or, it used to be, at least. It was more of a home to me than my own house for years. So it feels kinda… special, to me, to be the manager now. I guess I just don’t… want that to end on bad terms.”

He ran his thumb up and down the back of her hand, taking in her words. He smiled. “From queen of the rink to manager… I don’t know if that’s a big leap or merely a formality.”

That drew a smile from Ámbar.

They spent some time like that in comfortable silence. After a moment, Simón moved a little closer to her, still holding her hand.

“Can I ask you something?” He said quietly.

She looked at him. “Of course.”

He hesitated for a second longer, thinking how to formulate the question. “Why… If everyone admired you already as the queen of the rink, why did you pick on Luna? Why did you choose to antagonize her so much?”

Ámbar’s face dimmed. She looked down.

“I just don’t understand how you could already hate her so much as to want to hurt her when she had just arrived here,” he said, gently, trying not to make her feel attacked in any way; he just wanted some clarity. “I… I never truly understood why you ever hated Luna in the first place. You explained to me the thing about the Red Sharks Festival and why you were so pissed at her party at the beginning of the year. But everything before that… Why was it?”

He’d been wanting to ask this for a while. He had pieces, and he thought he knew a little, but he would never fully understand if she didn’t talk to him. He wouldn’t force her, of course. He’d considered just leaving it in the past and not mentioning it since it’d been a while since Ámbar’s attitude changed, but now, after what she’d confessed to him, he felt it was the right time to ask and see if she’d explain. Just for closure. Just to understand her better.

Ámbar took a breath and let it out slowly— a soft, long sigh that seemed to give her strength just as much as it snuffed all the energy she ever had.

“Well, Matteo was a factor,” she started, and her tone could’ve been mistaken for indifference if he didn’t know her better than that. “It was obvious from the beginning that he liked Luna, and that hurt, but… it hurt combined with everything else. Because it wasn’t just Matteo that liked her immediately— She was so easily liked by everyone. I had worked so hard to build my image and my popularity, and in just a matter of days, it was like everything revolved around her.” She grimaced. “I know it sounds like just petty jealousy but…” Her gaze stayed down, but even then he could see the cloud of something cover her face. It was a moment before she let the words out. “I had nothing.”

Finally, the aching sadness hiding in her voice came to light between them, and it was like a knife in Simón’s chest.

“If I wasn’t the queen of the rink, I had nothing,” she continued. “If I wasn’t the best at everything then people didn’t admire me, and if people didn’t admire me then… what did I have?”

Simón’s throat tightened. It absolutely broke his heart how matter-of-factly she said all this, like it was a truth she’d known her whole life, and it weighed on her, left her void until he feared she’d vanish before his eyes.

Where was Sharon? He wanted to say, to complain. He felt a spark of rage in a dark corner of himself he usually tried to deny existed. Where was this woman that she allowed Ámbar to feel so alone in the world? Where did she get off trying to ruin everyone’s lives and then running off, abandoning all her responsibilities? Why was it so hard for her to show Ámbar a mere speck of love?

“I had Delfi and Jazmín, I guess,” Ámbar answered herself before he could say or do anything. Simón felt so powerless; frozen as he processed her grief. “We didn’t have the best friendship in the world, but… I should’ve appreciated them more.” A moment passed and she straightened a bit, shaking herself slightly. “Whatever, it’s… that’s it. I felt like Luna was taking everything from me. My house, my boyfriend, my place in the Roller… so I wanted to take everything away from her too. I wanted her to hurt like I did.”

Simón had seen the dark flame of anger and resentment in Ámbar’s face before. Many times, even before he got to really know her. This was the first time that seeing it hurt.

He tightened his hold on her hand, the only thing he dared to do to not disrupt her. He didn’t agree with hurting Luna, of course not, but she already knew that and there was no need to say it. What he wanted her to know was I hear you, I’m with you.

Ámbar met his eyes and the shadow of rancor faded away into a resigned smile; a tiny, sad thing. She shrugged weakly. “But whatever I tried didn’t work. All I achieved was to make my life more miserable. I lost all my friends, I lost you…” Her gaze fell to their hands. A tiny smile appeared on her face again, but this time it came with a softness in her eyes. “But for some inexplicable reason, even when I was at my worst times, you still had faith in me.”

She reached over and held his hand between both of hers. “You saw I could be better under all that rage and that pain, and eventually, I started believing it too. And I realized that, although Luna shook my life forever… there was nothing I could do to change that. I didn’t get anything from raging at her being Sol Benson. I didn’t get anything from making her suffer, because even if it satisfied me somewhat, my life didn’t get any better because of it— In fact, it only seemed to get worse. So, I let it go,” she said with a light tone. “I let go of that rage I had for things I couldn’t change and Luna also couldn’t change.” She shrugged. “And here I am.”

The lightness felt almost out of place after everything that had been said, but it was still a relief to see Ámbar okay, at ease, after how much she’d suffered. Simón almost didn’t want to— it felt too much of a solemn moment— but he found himself growing a tiny smile. He was so proud of her. For living all she went through and not letting it pull her under. For turning her life around against all her learned behaviors and finding the best version of herself.

“Her little goody-two-shoes act still irks me sometimes though.”

Yep, definitely still herself.

Simón gave her a look, but there was no bite to it. “It’s not an act; she’s genuinely a good person.”

Ámbar waved it away half-heartedly. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He played with the fabric of his sweatpants. “So… can I assume you two won’t fight anymore?”

“Can I assume she’ll stop being annoying?”

She rolled her eyes at the look on his face and held his shoulder with her free hand. “I’m kidding. I promise I’m not gonna antagonize your best friend anymore. We’re actually on pretty decent terms now. And even if we weren’t, I’d never put you in that position. You’re worth more to me than any rivalry I could have with anyone.”

A surge of affection squeezed his heart. Simón brought her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “Thank you.” He pulled back to look at her. “Truly. For telling me all this. For trusting me, and for giving Luna a chance. It means a lot to me.”

She held the back of his neck. “You mean a lot to me. So everything that’s important to you, it’s important to me too.” Her hand slid to cup his cheek. “There’s very little in this world I wouldn’t do for you, Simón.”

His chest hurt again. His whole interior twisted and tore apart as if she had clawed him open, but it was the best feeling in the world.

Simón pulled her close and kissed her. “I love you.”

Ámbar smiled. “I love you too.”

********************

Ever since Juliana came back, the Roller guys were more insufferable than ever.

Benicio was sitting in the cafeteria, nursing a glass of juice as he waited for Emilia to start their morning practice. Lately, everywhere he looked he could see the losers’ smiling faces, hear their ridiculous laughs over the stupidest things, and worst of all, he had to live knowing they used his rink every afternoon.

Benicio clenched his jaw. He missed the old days. He missed seeing the logo of the Red Sharks followed by his picture on the screens. But no matter. People would respect them eventually. Everyone would come to know he was the best, one way or another.

He tapped his fingers idly on the table, switching between looking at his phone and throwing glances at the entrance of the Roller. Waiting would be more fun if he could look at Ámbar while at it, maybe get a rinse out of her— she looked so gorgeous when she got mad— but for some reason, she wasn’t at her usual table today. Maybe she would arrive later. Or maybe he was the one too late to catch a glimpse of her before she went out somewhere.

The next time he lifted his head to check if Emilia had arrived, it wasn’t her nor Ámbar who he saw. Simón was marching towards him before he was even aware of his presence on the other end of the Roller. He stood in front of him with an accusatory look just as Benicio left his phone on the table.

“I know it was you and Emilia who tightened those skates.”

Benicio repressed the urge to smirk. Oh yeah, that had been a masterstroke on his part. At first, he’d been dubious about how much of an uproar such a small thing could cause, but it was just a matter of choosing the right target. Oh, how he would’ve loved to stay there yesterday to watch it all go down, but it was too risky, so he and Emilia left when the woman marched to berate Ámbar.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded innocently.

Simón scoffed. “You’re always like that; throwing the stone and hiding your hand, blaming others. Even back in Mexico. You’re a coward, Benicio.”

“Don’t project on me, Simón,” he said simply. He laid back on his chair, his hands clasped together casually on the table. Maybe he had to look up at him due to their positions, but he was the true superior one here. “Whatever problem you had doing your job has nothing to do with me. And, I mean, why do you even worry? You have your little girlfriend to defend you. Oh, right, your boss, sorry.”

Simón shook his head, staring at him with a mix of annoyance and incredulity. “You’re just never going to stop, are you?” He said. “Does seeing me with Ámbar really make you that jealous? Well, pity, because that’s not going to change.” A smile full of hostility and condescension appeared on his face. “All your little stunt with the skates achieved was that we had a very deep conversation and now we’re closer than ever. So, thank you. And give my thanks to Emilia as well, okay?”

Benicio tightened the grip of his hands until it hurt. Simón placed his hands on the table and leaned closer, dropping the fake smile. “Stop wasting your time and don’t cause any more trouble for Ámbar or you’ll be dealing with me,” he said sharply, his expression dark and serious. “If you really cared about her, that’d be the minimum you would do.”

Simón stormed away, not deigning him with the luxury of a comeback.

Benicio stayed in his seat, festering in his anger.

Simón could laugh all he wanted now but Ámbar would be his in the end. Step by step, he would make sure of it.

…

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

Okay I’m sorry for pointing this out myself but it’s so funny because:

Simón: Ámbar is so much cooler than me, she’s seen the world, her default is luxury, she’s smart, she’s driven, she’s gonna go out there and eat the world up and I’m gonna be here waiting tables.

Ámbar: Simón is so cool, he knows so many things that I have no idea about, I don’t know how he manages to be a waiter, I wouldn’t have the patience for it, and with a smile no less! He always gives his best, I admire him so much, I hope someday I can be half the person he is.

🤣🤣🤣🤣

Also, how ironic is it that me, the writer, realized this juxtaposition just now as I was writing it? 😂 Like, I didn’t plan on Ámbar having that introspection moment there, it just happened, and then I went… oh. skjfdnskf. Simón, my boy. He had a rough time today but it ended on a high note <3 He’ll miss that eventually.

#simbar #simbar fic #simbar fanfic #soy luna fanfiction #My Writing #roads that cross #also you're welcome if you like... that* pairing *wink wink*

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skinni-girls-eat-books · 16 days

Text

Sunday, April 14th, 2024! Pt 2 (one day NC 🥳)

10:03am: I went back and reread some posts from earlier in the week and remembered that I was doing really good! I think last night was a one off and a little step backwards, but nothing that can't be overcome again. Things happen. People disappoint us and let us down, doesn't mean we have to become hard and cold to the world.

I'm gonna stay positive and know that

1) fake positivity does turn into real positivity after a while 2) positivity attracts people, friends and that's what I would like.

Stay positive! Definitely still process your trauma, but there's so much good in life! Like that awesome feeling when you have a good day with someone new ❤️ I guess I understand wanting to start fresh with someone because it's exciting! Plus be confident knowing that you were never the problem and omg there's so many guys out there that want a chance with you, honestly things will probably get better with age.

Don't be like the boss, a whole ass pharmacist going back n forth with someone beneath him, petty drama, stress and emotional turmoil. I don't want that life, it's bad for your physical body. When I think about the positive feelings I've been having for about the past two weeks, the tension lifts from my body. I have so much to look forward to. And I can't control anyone else's actions, I can only control my actions and my emotions and how I react to things.

This door closing is just opening up a bunch new ones :) and what one man won't do, another man will ❤️ let's work on me so I can find my forever guy ❤️

I love you

6:53pm: Got home from work and I'm bleeding like crazy. Longest month of my life. New homie sounded like he was gonna come over but I think he chickened out? Lmao that's crazy 😂 Had a nice day at work, ranted to the boss and it helped me a lot. He told me to make a pros and cons list and I said that con side would look crazy 🤣 he said he does the same thing and it helps him, also he said the no contact thing is helping him a lot PLUS this man is wildin OUT like every night is a bachelor party or something and I want to be like him haha. So crazy tho he's just like yeah and then I might get back with his gf after a few months like ???? Guys are insane lmao.

Weirdest thing I have thought about today is how prude he* is. 🤔 I really don't have to explain myself but like, he has the two biggest ho friends I've ever seen and acts like I'm just supposed to be some untouchable angel is WACK. Tbh I wouldn't get back together with him for that alone, it's a major rift in our morals. He thinks he/ his friends can just do whatever but then judges girls for doing the same? Icky, double standard ass mf 🤢 this man belongs in the looney bin after last night. Weird ass said he hopes the guy I end up with has wack dick and he hopes nobody is better than him 🤣 who tf says that

I literally had to lie to this man on facetime so he wouldn't have a meltdown if I told him what I really did, getting piped in our bed by a great guy 😂 crazyyyyy flex bro, but yeah keep doing it in y'all's parents house 🥴 literally just gave me icky goosebumps thinking about that.

Who cares lol I'm glad that part of my life is over. I'm tired of looking stupid tbh. Hesitant to do a # days no contact tracker on here because ik it can be counterintuitive to think about him technically, but shit I already think about him anyway, so I think it'll be a good idea to *try* and if it sucks I'll stop.

1:10am: Going to sleep now, didn't do anything after work today but that's ok :) had yogurt and cereal for dinner and both cats are on my bed ❤️ Spent too much time on my phone but it's ok, too. I think I'm gonna do a beginning of the day and end of the day, then I can kinda track triggers that make me want to reach out to him. Ik it's stress but also ik this will help. Distractions are great, but I want better distractions than just being on my phone lol.

Goals for tomorrow: Last OSCE! Study for exam! Study MOA! I know you hate it but that doesn't matter right now, you gotta grind before you party 🎉 Study for Jesse McCartney ❤️ He doesn't want you to fail your exam 😂

Goodnight, I love you so much I hope you had a good Sunday. I'm listening to crime podcasts while I fall asleep, something I couldn't do with you here lol. Perks of being a bachelorette 🤪 Hella peaceful and everything is easy going.

Day 1 NC complete! ❤️🥳

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iamthecomet · 8 months

Note

Finally answering now

Hoot :D

It is absolutely fine, stuff can get lost in the drafts (this is such a thing that would happen to me istg)

Due to a few legal issues it took a while but I finally started the new meds this morning (this means I’ll be taking half of the dose for 5-10 days and then switch to the regular dose)

Luckily, it‘s super Rainy and rather cold since yesterday, because heat isn‘t very nice on my body and makes the general dizziness worse (which would then get enhanced by the meds during the adjustment period)

Thank you. I‘m honestly super thankful that I have friends like that. In like two weeks, my mother will be away for a whole week again (which was the gigantic problem a few weeks ago already. We found a solution for that back then)

This time it seems like she’ll actually let me stay home alone if I‘ll stay over at friend‘s places for like at least 2-3 nights (I’ve proven repeatedly that I can take care of myself for a few days and I actually seem to do better when I’m alone (only when it‘s not permanently but for one or two nights))

I‘m actually really excited for that, cause I have one sleepover (well it‘s more or less a sleep over if I sleep at a friend‘s place, eh?) planned already and I know that we‘ll finally finish watching season 2 of the Witcher. (And possibly she and the other friend we started watching it with will actually stay with me the night after that and we might start season 3 which was recently released? (Is released the right word? Oh god, ESL struggles)

About the cane: I‘ve started to feel more and more unstable and much more unsafe from day to day and every slightly bigger bit I have to walk (to the point that I need to take a short break when walking up the stairs to our apartment (and we live on the 3rd floor, so it‘s really not that high))

I do have a general doctors appointment scheduled for December, but it feels like that will take forever. And I’ll have to go there again sooner because they need to test my blood, but that‘ll be in the end of September and there probably won‘t be a doctor.

So we decided that my mother, stepdad and I will buy a cane (without prescription, so we‘ll have to pay fully for it). It‘ll be like 40-50€, which apparently is like 45-55$, but we decided that it‘s worth it to keep me at least a little more independent

We‘re planning on buying it on Thursday. Tomorrow, I’ll have one of my regular appointments, for which I’ll have to walk quite a bit (to get there). So I’m pretty scared of that, but I also know that I’ll just have to make it that day and then I‘ll most likely finally get something to help make me feel a little more stable

(It’s getting long again, whoop-)

Things sadly aren‘t going as well anymore. I’ve been feeling really terrible yesterday and the day before yesterday. Somehow today was quite a bit better and I also finally had a bit of contact with my partner again, which was awesome (we’re long distance and I struggle to text people, especially when I feel worse)

TW mental health

I had to fight against like suicidal thoughts and thoughts about relapsing (I have a bit of a history with self harm) again, which had been less intense for quite a while but sadly came back.

Luckily, today was better with that as well (at least so far), and I got to loose myself a little more in my interests again which is an awesome distraction

And I also managed to not only go to a grocery store that requires me to take a bus and a streetcar (and also walk), but I also went and got some bread for lunch in the grocery store that is not even two minutes away (going outside is something I struggle with, as well as grocery stores and ofc walking, so I think that‘s some pretty great success)

How have you been? Is the post really-great-stuff depression at least a bit better?

~ @owlishanon

Getting to this finally (I've already read your update, so I'll answer that one shortly too ♥. Trying to get caught up on my asks/requests FINALLY. We'll see how many I actually have energy for). It's been a couple days and I hope your new meds are treating you alright. I know the adjustment period could be nasty, but I'm hoping it goes easy on you, you deserve it. Your week alone (sort of) sounds like it will be great. You'll get to spend time with your friends, and some time to yourself (which can sometimes be really great). And just knowing that you've got fun stuff to look forward to while she's away is great. I'm sorry that you've had some bad mental health days, but I'm glad that you're pushing through it and still taking care of yourself. You can always DM me if you need someone to vent to if/when you're going through it <3. Going to the grocery stores, and getting stuff done is great. Even when it's just errands it feels good to get out of the house and accomplish something when you're feeling down. It's like a little reminder that you can do this. I've been alright. My mental health is not where it should be but I'm taking it easy and doing what I can and being nice to myself. My partner is off work next week and we're just staying around here instead of traveling so I'm hoping that we can do some fun stuff together (which, despite living together we do not get to do often because working and renovating a house takes up a lot of time).

#comet comments #owlish #comet's anons #tw mental health #tw sh #just mentioned but still #tw suicidal thoughts

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo.

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy.

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships.

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate.

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?”

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise.

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum.

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed.

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks.

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.”

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you.

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is.

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support.

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle.

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this.

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway.

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you.

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck.

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal.

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw.

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship.

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.”

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him.

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it.

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought.

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble.

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later.

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again.

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding.

Both of you looked ridiculous.

“Stay away, fiend.”

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you.

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t.

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible.

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself.

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring.

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time.

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes.

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you.

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again.

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst.

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm.

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying.

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again.

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment.

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you.

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up.

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech.

“Suppose that’s two points for me?”

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something.

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him?

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know.

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again.

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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tobesoalive · 3 years

Text

r u mine? (Jake Kiszka x reader)

hey guys...so this was fun to write, thank you to the kind anon who requested it! I currently have some fun (and steamy) Josh stuff in the works right now, but still feel free to send in requests! I might slow down a little with posting since my classes started, but I promise to get to every request! Enjoy my first Jake piece!

Warnings: SMUT(oral f-recieving, fingering, penetrative sex)

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you headed down the hallway backstage, about to go out and face the crowd of thousands of fans. No you weren't a huge famous musician or anything, just their photographer. Basically the same thing right?

For the past three weeks you had been enjoying life on the road, it had always been your dream to be a concert photographer, and your work had caught the attention of a little band called Greta Van Fleet. Well, not exactly little. Their fan base grew everyday and now they were doing yet another headlining tour that they asked you to document. Over the past few months you had been in contact with the guys and their management, and you guys hit it off instantly, they brought you under their wing as if you were part of the family.

You basically were all one big family, you had gotten extremely close to the boys. Josh, Sam and Danny were like your brothers, and Jake...he was a little different.

Brother would be an odd way to describe him, seeing as you had a bit of a crush on him. Nothing super serious, you just thought he was a cool guy who also happened to be really fucking hot. You thought he might have a little something for you too, he was always asking you how you liked the show, and when he’d catch you editing the photos you took he’d sit himself right next to you and ask if you’d show him what you were working on. He was constantly complimenting your work, but that would mostly be in private, when he’d seek you out if he couldn’t sleep. You surely weren’t complaining, you enjoyed his company. You just wish he would say something, or even better, make a move. You could be taking his actions the wrong way, he does have tons of women who want him all around the country, maybe he does just think of you as a sister. Whatever thoughts you had about Jake you’d just push to the back of your mind, you had a job to do, and your work was more important than getting laid.

You went in front of the barricade and took some photos of the crowd and talked to fans. They liked to ask you questions about the guys and what it was like touring with them. You always tried to make them feel special by saying how thankful the guys were, which wasn’t a lie, to have such amazing fans.

All of a sudden you heard some of the fans start screaming wildly. They were chanting Jake’s name, and you turned your head only to briefly meet his eyes from the side of the stage where he was standing. Within a second he was gone, most likely rushing backstage to avoid any further commotion from the audience.

What was that all about? You thought to yourself. Did he sneak over there to just look at me? Maybe he wanted to talk or something. That can happen later, it was only a few minutes until the show started, so you wanted to snap a few more shots of the crowd before running all over during the show to catch the right angles.

During the show you had a great time, as per usual. You loved being right up front, taking photos of the guys doing what they loved. You went backstage to get some photos from the wings. Jake was about to do his signature move, playing his guitar behind his head, and you were ready to capture the moment. Right as you snapped the photo, Jake turned and winked at you, arms thrown behind his head, somehow managing to play the notes of “Highway Tune” whilst flirting with you.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you felt an intense need for him. Quickly you ran back out to the front of the stage to capture a few more moments before the show was over.

“God fucking dammit, I’m in deep” you muttered to yourself, before heading to the green room to congratulate the guys on the awesome show. You slipped through the crew heading on stage to clean up the equipment, turning a corner and bumping directly into Jake.

“Oh sorry! Great job out there tonight!” you say, trying your best not to blush. What was wrong with you, it was like you were a school girl or something.

“Thanks y/n! Did you get some good shots?”

“No, I made sure to get really shitty photos, especially of you”

“Are you being sarcastic?! Now that is something new!” he teased you.

“I just know how much you enjoy my sense of humor! I like to give back to the fans y’know” you quip back, causing him to break out into a smile.

“Hey the guys and quite a bit of the crew is gonna head out and probably find a bar or something once we’re done cleaning up. You wanna join?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I might just keep it lowkey tonight, I’d prefer to edit the photos tonight so I can explore whatever city we’re going to tomorrow.”

“Totally understandable, well I’ll catch you later!”

“Yeah for sure!” you say as you go off to find the rest of the guys.

After about a half hour of chatting and checking in with the rest of your tour mates, you decided it was time to change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night staring at your computer screen, trying to edit as many photos as you can before inevitably passing out.

Getting onto the bus you shared with some other crew members, you kicked your Vans off before checking to see if anyone else was around. Seems like they all were opting to go out after the show, which meant you got the whole place to yourself. You traded out your concert outfit for a pair of shorts and a hoodie, getting prepared for your lengthy editing session.

You made yourself at home on the couch towards the front of the bus, turning on your speaker and playing music as loud as you wanted, getting straight to work.

It had felt like only a minute when you heard a knock on the door, but after checking your clock you realized an hour had already gone by. You peeked out the window only to see Jake’s figure standing there.

“Jacob! What’s up? I thought you were going to the bar?” you said as you opened the door to let him in.

“That show wore me out”

“Yeah you did amazing, I mean like you usually do” you say, stumbling over your words and internally punching yourself. God you were not smooth at all.

“Seems like we are some of the very few who decided to stay back, I was getting lonely in that tour bus.”

“Well you’re always welcome here, I was just doing some editing.”

“Wow you’re a pretty big nerd aren’t you? You know you should take a break every once and a while, I feel like you’re constantly working.”

“Well it’s not that hard when you love your job” you tell him.

“I guess that's true, can I see what you’re working on?”

“Yeah of course” you say while making your way back to the couch, Jake plopping down next to you.

“Damn that’s fucking awesome” he remarks, looking at the image on your screen. It’s the one of him playing the guitar behind his head, and winking right at you.

“I know! Thanks for being such a good model” you tell him with a small laugh.

“The guys and management are really impressed with your work. We’ve already been talking about having you come on the European leg of the tour with us.”

“Are you for real?!” you ask in awe, giddy with excitement. You absolutely loved this job and the people, and the thought that you could travel the world to do it was a dream come true.

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though, I don’t want to get my ass beat for it.”

“Oh my god Jake I could literally kiss you!” you exclaimed, before you had even realized what you said.

You tried your best to play it off before your thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s voice.

“I wish you would”

“Huh” you stop for a second before turning to face him.

“Listen y/n, I think you’re really cool, and you also happen to be really hot. Sorry, maybe I was interpreting things wrong. I just thought if you felt the same it might be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, I just get lonely on the road and -”

Before he could say another word, you took it upon yourself to answer his question, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. You pull back and look him in the eyes, closing your laptop and setting it on the counter.

“God I’m glad you finally said something, I think everyone was starting to sense the sexual tension” you grin at him.

“Well all I could think about on stage was fucking your brains out, so sorry if I’m not too great at hiding it” he says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, to which you open your mouth to let his tongue slip in.

You move yourself so that you’re straddling his lap, your lips moving perfectly in rhythm as Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background.

“Wow it seems like you were almost expecting this to happen” he teases you.

“Shut up and fuck me Kiszka” you say before he flips you so you’re now beneath him.

His fingers find their way under your shirt, reaching up to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple before quickly tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Can this come off?” he breathed into your mouth.

“Yes please” you said before he pulled it off you, exposing your bare chest to him. You felt very self conscious, it had been a little while since you had gotten naked with anyone.

“Hey don’t be shy, you’re gorgeous” he said before connecting your lips once more before he stood up to remove his shirt and shorts, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs. You tried your best to not look at his growing bulge, but it was hard to resist.

Suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, body in between your spread legs.

“Jake you really don’t have to” “Oh trust me, I want to, '' he says before running his fingers up and down over your clothed core, moving his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, pulling your panties down with them.

“God you’re so fucking sexy” he mutters before expertly pressing the pad of his thumb onto your clit, his other hand pushing on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

“Fuck, Jake, I need more” you groan, your arousal now dripping between your folds.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got you”

Those words alone probably could have made you cum, but then Jake entered a finger into you, causing your hands to tangle in his long hair, slightly pulling.

“Goddamn babe you’re tight” he said, looking at you in awe before adding another finger and leaning down to toy your clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, and every so often he’d curl them to perfectly hit your g-spot.

“Jake you need to stop or else I’m gonna cum” you say as you pull his head back, looking him in the eyes.

“That’s okay” he reassures you.

“No, when I cum I want it to be around you” you say.

“Fucking hell y/n” he groans out in a raspy voice.

You get up and kiss him before pushing him down on the couch, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You tug at the waistband, and he lifts his hips up to assist you. You took a moment to admire his length before wrapping your hand around it. He was a couple inches above average, with a nice girth to him. His head tipped back in bliss as you continued to give him a few more strokes before positioning yourself above him, running his tip back and forth across your slit. Slowly, you sank yourself down onto him, taking as much of him in as you could.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jake, you’re really fucking big” you breath out, only able to fit about half of him in you at this angle.

“Just do what you can baby” he says before softly pressing a kiss on your forehead, telling you that it was okay.

You started moving yourself up and down on him as best you could, starting to adjust more to his size. The stretch burned but slowly started turning more pleasurable.

After a few minutes your legs were starting to hurt and his length slipped out of you.

“Will you fuck me from behind?” you blurt out, sweat running between the valley of your breasts.

“I’d be honored” Jake responds, offering a smile before getting up.

He moves you so that your hands are on the back of the couch, holding you steady and your knees rest on the edge of the sofa, sticking your ass out towards Jake. You can hear him move behind you, hands finding their way to your ass, before you feel him run his tip up and down your slit once again.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in response and instantly feel him push his way into you, letting you adjust for a second before pushing the rest of his length in you.

“Oh my fucking god Jake” you say as you bury your head in the couch cushions, his dick hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Oh god you’re doing so good baby girl, taking all of my cock.” he says as he begins to pump in and out of you, starting off slow but gradually picking up the pace.

It feels amazing, better than you had imagined. You wanted him to stay in you forever, make you see stars all the time. Within a minute you were contracting around him, nearing your edge.

“Jake I’m almost there, please faster”

“Me too baby, me too” he says as he starts thrusting even faster than before, wrapping his arm around you to toy with your clit.

All it takes is a few more pumps and you can feel him explode inside you, groaning your name loudly and leaning over your back, but still circling your clit with his fingers. It’s enough to bring you to your peak, walls contracting around him, burying your head in your arms. Once you’ve both come down you stay in that position for a minute, before he pulls out of you and collapses on the couch, pulling you into his chest.

“That was way better than I imagined” he breathes out, hand stroking your hair.

“Oh so you’ve thought about this before? That's embarrassing” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey I’m sure you aren’t so innocent yourself” he says smiling down at you.

“We should probably get dressed, I’m sure your brothers and the other goons will be stumbling in anytime now.” you tell him as you get up and search for your clothes.

“You’re probably right. Hey, let's do this again sometime” he says, cheeks going red.

“Hmm...I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule” you respond, giving him a quick wink.

These next few months surely were going to be an adventure, and you didn’t want to miss a second.

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fan fic #sam kiszka #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka fanfic #Greta Van Fleet #gvf #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

secret relationship // wanda maximoff

summary: you're the daughter of the famous Black Widow, which comes with its own set of hurdles such as revealing to her that you're dating the newest Avenger that she also happens to be mentoring – Wanda Maximoff. What could go wrong?

warning/s: minor (implied) violence and injury

author's note: okay so the request was the reader is Natasha's daughter and is struggling to tell Natasha that she's dating Wanda. All I know is I got excited (as usual) and this happened so yeah, enjoy! Also, Wanda’s age is always a mystery to me since it’s interpreted differently with everyone, so I tried my best to explain the age gap between you and natasha so things made sense.

masterlist | wattpad

"Did you know red onion and red cabbage is called 'red' instead of 'purple' because back in the old days, they didn't have enough words for colours so anything purple was defined as red?"

"The mission, Y/N," my mum, Natasha Romanoff, AKA Black Widow, scolded.

I sighed, my attention still focused on my surroundings and my gun directed ahead. "I know, I know. But did you know that the most common internet password is '123456'?"

"Y/N," Wanda, my girlfriend and teammate said with a laugh. "Stop it."

"Yeah, please, quit it," my mum added with an eye roll.

I smiled at Wanda, admiring how beautiful she looked when she hid her laugh. My mum wasn't aware we were dating, so I settled for sending her a playful wink before looking ahead.

I knew I had to focus on the mission – scouting out this abandoned HYDRA den – but it was boring. And it was obviously empty of any threats, so talking was my only pastime.

"Did you know the inventor of Pringles is buried in a Pringles can?" I said after a moment of silence, making my mum stop walking abruptly.

"Okay, you know what? New plan," she said, looking between Wanda and I. "Everyone split up. Take a look around. Stay alert. Keep in contact. Sound good?"

I quirked a brow. "You trying to get rid of me?"

She narrowed her eyes my way. "Yes."

I frowned, making Wanda crack a smile and nudge me in the shoulder.

"You need to learn to have an off button sometimes," she joked, her Sokovian accent shining through despite the voice lessons my mum was giving her. Honestly, I preferred her Sokovian accent to her American one.

"You love it," I teased, giving her a knowing smile, my mother completely unaware of the double meaning.

"Just do as I said," my mum said, already shooing me away. "Wanda, you know what to do. If you see or hear anything suspicious, use your comms."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff," Wanda said obediently, and I tried so hard to hold in laughter at her seriousness. I mean, it was great that she was respectful of my mother and her mentor, but God it was funny to witness.

"Once again, Wanda, you can just call me Nat," my mum said with a wince, trying to be polite. "Go on."

Wanda nodded and walked off, her gun raised as she'd practiced. I grinned at my mum, noticing the way she massaged her temple with mild agitation before her gaze fell to mine.

"Go. Now." She pointed behind me, and I stifled a laugh.

"Bet you love babysitting duty," I joked.

"It's not babysitting if I'm your mother," she pointed out. "Though sometimes, you make me regret not picking the baby instead of you."

"That baby would have been six years old now," I informed her. "If anything, I spared you the whole diaper thing and the outgrowing clothes thing and the– oh yeah! Not being able to speak thing!"

"At least they wouldn't be annoying me with stupid facts," she retorted, hand on her hip. "Now be a good agent and do your job."

I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing she was kidding. Whenever I annoyed her, she'd bring up the story of how it was between twelve year old me and a six-month old baby at the adoption centre. She was worried I'd view her as an older sister or something, hence her choice of adopting the baby instead. But I never did, as she was always way more mature than any twenty-seven year old I'd met or seen at the time. And maybe, I guess, I was really desperate to have a motherly figure, and she just happened to fit the bill.

"Aye, aye, Miss Romanoff," I saluted, making her raise an eyebrow threateningly. "Okay, geez, I'm going."

I wandered off, exploring the dishevelled HYDRA den with full focus. The brief clearly stated it was an abandoned site, but I stayed on alert anyway in case there were stragglers. As usual, I only got given half the facts because of my clearance level, so I knew we were looking for a hard drive, but I had no idea what was on it.

Being a seventeen year old working in S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly how I saw my life going when I grew up in an orphanage. I honestly never thought I'd get adopted, as rumours spread quite quickly through the orphanage that once you hit double digits, nobody wanted you. So, when the beautiful, red-headed Natasha Romanoff came in, looking for an addition to her family, I felt like the luckiest kid in the world because she chose me of all the kids there.

I definitely didn't expect her to be the Black Widow, nor to teach me everything she knew about espionage, stealth, hand-to-hand combat and much more. She ensured I was multi-lingual like her, preparing me for the many S.H.I.E.L.D. missions I would have to go on. There were times when I absolutely despised her, particularly when she overtrained me or stopped me from seeing my friends. And there were times when I wished she'd never adopted me, hating that I couldn't have a normal teenage experience.

But when it came down to it, I knew I couldn't have asked for a more caring, considerate and compassionate mother. I learnt early on into our relationship that she was unable to have kids of her own, hence her interest in adoption. And honestly speaking? That was probably the worst thing in the world because if anybody deserved a child of their own, it was Natasha Romanoff. I guess, in that sense, I was lucky to have all of her love to myself.

Now that I was older, I came to appreciate how awesome she was, especially when we got to go on missions together and I saw her awesomeness upfront. The only thing was, she was extremely overprotective, so it was difficult to get sent on the dangerous missions. Though, I guess, whenever I did, she was always there to have my back and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Her overprotectiveness was also a reason why she didn't know about Wanda and I's relationship. Wanda had joined the Avengers a year ago after losing her brother in the battle against Ultron. She was a year older than me, so naturally we were drawn to each other, and before I knew it, our friendship became more. But of course, my mother could never know that. At least not yet.

"Empty here," I mumbled, rounding a corner into an empty room. As I looked through the rubbish on the desk, I continued, "Empty here... and here... and oh, look, here, too. What a surprise!"

"Y/N, I love you, but God help me I will kill you if you don't turn your damn mic off," my mother's voice came through my comms piece in my ear.

For once, I wasn't trying to piss her off, so I smiled sheepishly to myself and replied, "Sorry. Love you."

I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me in response, so continued to look around for the hard drive I saw on the brief. Still, there was nothing here.

My searching was interrupted when I heard a loud crash from a nearby room, like the sound of bricks tumbling against one another. I spun around, eyes widening with concern.

"Y/N? Wanda? What happened?" my mum's voice came through my ear, slightly reassuring me as it wasn't her who was caught up in anything. But then that meant–

"Wanda! What happened?" I replied worriedly, already rushing out of the room and to the source of the sound.

"I'm okay," Wanda's shaky voice came through my ear, which did nothing to ease my concern.

I found the room Wanda was in quite quickly, seeing her sat on the floor as if she'd been pushed. She had a deep cut on her forehead and looked visibly distressed. Running to her side, I kneeled down beside her and cupped her face, studying her head.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" The words tumbled from my mouth so quickly I wasn't sure if it was understandable.

She nodded slowly, accepting my hand and holding it for reassurance. I followed her gaze, seeing a hole in the wall ahead, bricks crumbling and dust beginning to settle. Laying on the floor through the hole and into the next room was a HYDRA soldier, clearly dead from the impact of hitting the bricks.

Wanda's power was magnificent, but hard to control. A year later and she was still learning its limits, but sometimes slip-ups like this happened. I was, admittedly, in awe of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I should have kept him alive like Miss Ro– Nat said," Wanda apologised suddenly, and I looked back at her to see her shaking her head. "He just– he startled me and I didn't know what I was doing until it happened. I thought–"

"Don't apologise," I cut her off, squeezing her hand gently, before looking back to the cut on her forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay. You did good."

Despite my words, I bit my lower lip to contain a frown, worried about her cut.

"Damn."

Wanda and I both turned to the doorway to see my mum, who stopped and took in the sight of the hole in the wall with partial surprise and partial amazement.

"Mum, we need to get her back to the quinjet," I said, pulling her attention away from the wall. She approached me as I said, "She needs medical assistance."

I didn't let go of Wanda's hand as I moved to the side for my mum to take a look. Gently guiding Wanda's chin to the side, she took a closer look at the gash on her forehead, expression showing nothing as usual.

"You'll be okay, honey," she reassured, letting go. Her eyes drifted to our connected hands briefly, but I figured she wouldn't piece anything together, so I didn't let go. She continued, "Let's get out of here. There's no hard drive anyway."

Wanda nodded and my mum and I helped her to stand up, me still not letting go of her hand.

"The hard drive is on him," Wanda spoke suddenly, nodding to the dead HYDRA agent. "I heard his thoughts before I– yeah."

My mum raised her brows with surprise. "Oh. Perfect. Y/N get the drive and let's go."

I pursed my lips, glancing at Wanda with concerned eyes. She gave me a small, reassuring smile, squeezing my hand subtly before letting go.

"Right, yeah," I said, swallowing hard.

I looked back to my mum, who seemed to be studying my expression, so I cleared my throat and left to get the drive. When I retrieved it, I jogged after Wanda and my mum, checking in on her with a small smile, before leading the way to the quinjet.

When we boarded the plane, I hung around Wanda and my mum as she helped the brunette to take a seat in the back. I noticed Wanda's momentary dizziness as she sat down and felt my chest tighten.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, kneeling before her as my mum got the first aid kit.

Wanda gave me an endearing smile as I swiped at the blood dripping down her forehead.

"I'll be alright," she said, holding my gaze with comforting green eyes before they flickered to behind me.

"Okay, Y/N, stop hanging about and start the plane whilst I stitch Wanda up," my mum said, appearing from behind me and kneeling beside me.

I nodded, glancing between the needle, thread and disinfectant in her hands and Wanda's head. Reluctantly, I got up and left them both to it as I started up the plane and got us in the air. Once we were in the clear, I flicked on autopilot before heading back to Wanda and my mum to see how things were going.

"We'll have someone look at it properly when we get back to the tower," my mum was saying to Wanda, who was now stitched up and wearing a small bandage, "but it'll hold up for now." With a playful smile, she added, "You're not dying on me just yet."

Wanda cracked a smile and whilst I appreciated how lovely it was to see their closeness in a way I never usually saw, I was still troubled by her injury. Logically, I knew she'd be okay, but it never felt good to see her injured.

"Plane is on autopilot," I announced, making my presence known. My eyes never left Wanda's bandage as I asked, "Everything okay here?"

"You need to calm down," my mum joked, making me look her way. "It's not that serious. Just some stitches."

I smiled awkwardly, but I knew it was much more than that.

"Yeah, relax, it's not a big deal," Wanda added playfully.

Her eyes met mine and I knew she was communicating the same thing through her gaze, holding a seriousness that wasn't able to be shared verbally because of my mum's presence. I tilted my head, giving her a knowing look; she knew I was aware of how big a deal it was. All I wanted to do was give her a hug and kiss and not leave her side until she felt better. And she knew that.

"I'm gonna go fly the plane," my mum said suddenly, and I almost forgot she was standing there until she spoke up. "We'll get back to base quicker..."

I glanced at her, mildly confused at her sudden change of expression. She headed to the front of the quinjet, leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Seriously though, you should relax," Wanda said, sounding like she did when it was just her and I and nobody else. She had an amused smile on her lips as she watched me worry. "I'm fine. All stitched up."

I licked my lips, sulking, as I dragged myself over to the seat beside her. She laced our fingers together, pressing a kiss to the top of my hand before facing me with an easygoing smile.

"I'm fine," she repeated gently, lovingly, sweetly.

I offered her a small smile, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her bandage. "I know. Just don't worry me like that. Especially in front of my mum. I can't take it."

"It's cute," she noted, amusement returning. "It means a lot to know someone cares."

My shoulders relaxed. "I care too much. So, please don't test that."

She laughed and I felt my heart flutter in my chest, never getting used to the sound.

"I promise not to," she said, looking up at me through her lashes.

I leaned my head on her shoulder and kept ahold of her hand, staying with her until we arrived back at base. My mum flew us the whole way back, only coming to get us once we landed. I knew I should have left Wanda's side as to not raise suspicion with my mum, but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. I just hoped she would interpret it as two concerned friends rather than her daughter having a secret girlfriend.

"You should head to the medical wing to get checked out properly," my mum said once we were back at the tower, looking to Wanda.

"Yeah," I agreed a little too eagerly. "I'll go with you."

My mum gave me a curious look. "I mean, that's not necessary."

Wanda must have sensed my eagerness, as she said, "I'd appreciate the company, actually. I don't mind."

She shot me a subtle smile, eyes bright with reassurance.

"I'm happy to accompany you, Wanda," my mum offered, and I felt my mouth go dry.

"It's okay, mum," I said suddenly, making her look to me with pursed lips. "You can go debrief and I'll make sure Wanda is cool with everything."

Glancing between us, my mum finally nodded. "I see. I guess I'll see you both later then." She paused, looking between us once more, before adding, "You did good today. Both of you."

I looked down to my shoes as Wanda shot her a grateful smile. She walked away, leaving us be, and I immediately intertwined my fingers with Wanda's as the two of us headed to the medical wing.

"You may as well write desperate on your forehead," she teased with a beautiful smile.

"So funny," I said sarcastically, though a smile of my own was present. "Let's just get you checked out."

"If it means you'll stop pouting, then sure."

"Real jokester you are. Hilarious, honestly."

Her laughter surrounded me like a warm hug and I could have listened to it forever.

—

Since our mission together, I noticed the distance my mum was putting between her and I, and I had no idea why. I thought I was overthinking it and seeing things that weren't there, so I didn't follow up with it until one evening.

It was a rare occurrence for all of the Avengers to be at the tower at once, so when they were, we'd all have a 'family' dinner for some normalcy. Only, this time, I noticed how strange my mum was acting whenever I spoke to her. She'd either act super dismissive or give one word answers to my questions – once again, I wasn't sure if I was seeing things.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways and Wanda and I stayed in the living-area to watch some TV. Though it was playing, the volume was lowered and neither of us were watching it. We were just talking about random stuff and enjoying each other's company.

"Okay, how about this one?" I said to Wanda, turning so I was facing her, a grin on my lips. "What did the clock do when it was hungry?"

As with all of my other attempts at making Wanda laugh, she stared at me with an amused smile and a quirked brow.

"Say it...," I encouraged, motioning for her to speak with my hand.

She sighed. "Okay, what did the clock do when it was hungry?" Mumbling, she added, "Even though clocks don't eat..."

I slapped her leg playfully. "Sshhh, you'll ruin the joke. And the answer is, they go back four seconds!"

Wanda didn't laugh, but she seemed entertained as she hid a smile. "Seriously?"

"Because of the number 'four' and the word 'for'," I explained. "C'mon, that's a good one!"

"D'you think you're funny?" she asked, eyeing me playfully. "Because you're not."

I shrugged, playing it off like I wasn't fussed. "I mean, I don't know about that... how about now?"

Before she could question me, I moved forward and began to tickle her sides, watching as she squirmed with laughter.

"Stop it!" she shouted, but her smile was as wide as ever as she was unable to stifle her laughter. "P-please! Y/N!"

"But you said I wasn't funny!" I retorted with a grin, practically straddling her as she attempted to push me off her. "I'm just checking if you still think that!"

Wanda was crying now, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as she continued to laugh. "I'm s-sorry! Y/N, stop!"

Before I could think how to respond, the doors to the living-area opened and in walked Steve Rogers AKA Captain America, a confused expression on his face as he saw me sat on Wanda.

"Hey, ladies," he greeted, raising an eyebrow. "You both good?"

I pulled my hands away from Wanda and breathed out, still smiling as I glanced down at her. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and glared at me playfully.

"Yeah, just talking," I answered Steve, before being thrown off Wanda and to the floor with a thud.

"Just Y/N harassing me as usual," Wanda corrected, and I sat up to see her sitting up, too, fixing her hair.

Steve chuckled as he headed to the fridge in the connected kitchen. Wanda helped me back onto the couch, nudging me in the side as a response to the tickle fest, before leaning on me and stretching her legs across the couch.

"So, hey, what's up with you and your mum?" Steve asked as I continued to annoy Wanda by flicking her face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not looking up as I grinned down at Wanda, watching as her eyes glowed red threateningly.

"Don't make me hurt you," she said teasingly, lifting a hand and summoning her powers, red wisps of energy becoming present.

I stopped flicking her and intertwined her hand in mine, watching as her eyes faded to its usual colour.

"She just seemed distant at dinner," Steve continued.

I looked up and saw he was leaning against the counter with a water bottle in his hand. Wanda continued to stretch, practically on top of me, probably to annoy me as I had been doing with her. I moved her hands out of my face as I nodded to Steve.

"So, you saw it too? She was being off, right?" I asked him, glad I wasn't just imagining things.

He nodded, gulping his water, before saying casually, "Definitely. What did you do? Finally tell her about you and Wanda?"

It took me a second to realise what he'd said, but when I did, my eyes widened and I spluttered out a terrible response. "What– what about Wanda and I?"

I glanced at Wanda as she began to sit up properly. She looked more confused than panicked.

"You know, that you're together," Steve said like it was obvious.

I cleared my throat. "What? Why would you think that?"

Steve smiled with confusion. "Wait, so you're not? But I thought–" He paused, pulling a face. "No, you are! Everybody thinks you are!"

I shrugged it off, though inside I was panicking. "I mean, even if that was the case, why do you think my mum knows?"

Steve nodded knowingly. "She's been off with you all night. And then I caught up with her after dinner and she wasn't in a very talkative mood. Just mumbled something like 'new girl, her age, pretty, nice, should have seen it coming'. I assumed she was talking about Wanda."

Heat crept up my neck with embarrassment and when I looked to Wanda, I saw her cheeks dusting a red colour, similar to the energy she could summon. She looked as flustered as I felt.

"Has your mum been okay with you before today?" Steve asked, trying to be helpful.

I chewed on my lower lip and shook my head. "Not since we got back from our last mission..."

Steve scrunched his face with sympathy. "Oof. You should probably talk to her then. You know how much she hates secrets."

I groaned internally. "Thanks for the reminder."

He saluted playfully, his stupid smile on his stupid face, before leaving Wanda and I alone again.

"Well, looks like she knows," I said to Wanda, sinking into the couch with hopes it would swallow me forever.

"She might not," Wanda tried to make me feel better, resting a hand on my leg. "It could be something else."

I gave her a knowing look. "She has to know. It's the only thing that makes sense. You heard Steve."

Wanda sighed, sinking into the couch beside me. "Yeah..." She glanced at me and I looked at her as she said, "I did tell you to tell her."

I forced a smile. "Gee, Wanda, that was helpful. Thanks."

Wanda rolled her eyes before leaning her head on my shoulder. "Sorry..."

I rested my hand on hers. "It's okay, sorry. I just– she's gonna be really mad that I kept this from her."

"Yeah, why did you do that again?" Wanda asked questioningly.

I massaged the tension between my eyebrows. "Because she's too overprotective. It gets too much to handle sometimes... Take my last boyfriend for example. He was some tool that cheated on me and, oh boy, my mum wanted to kill him. I had to physically restrain her from doing so."

"I don't blame her," Wanda quipped, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

I smiled a little, squeezing her hand. "I know... she ended up slashing his tyres and egging his car without telling me. But instead of egging the outside, she broke into it and egged the inside. A thoughtful take on a classic, I must admit."

Wanda laughed, her whole body shaking with pure amusement as she listened to the story. I couldn't help but smile myself, remembering it like it was yesterday. Definitely a fun time.

"I appreciated it, don't get me wrong," I added, smile fading. "I just didn't want that to happen again. I wanted to enjoy our relationship without anyone spying on us, y'know? But now she's gonna be super angry."

Wanda let go of my hand and rolled on top of me, leaning down on my chest so she could look me in the eyes. I wrapped my arms loosely around her to keep her steady.

"She only wants the best for you," Wanda told me gently. "You have to tell her you're sorry. Explain why you did what you did, but hear her out, too. She's your mum. Caring too much isn't a bad thing."

I groaned, knowing she was right. She smiled reassuringly, patting my chest.

"You get the caring too much thing from her by the way," she added, before leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to my lips. "It's okay though because I love it."

I smiled, never really seeing it like that. Raising my hand, I brushed my thumb over the small bandage on her head; her injury was still healing, but she didn't let it bother her. Very Wanda-like.

"Thanks," I mumbled, meeting her gaze. "You always say the right thing."

"Which is why I'm going to tell you to get up and go to your mum," she ordered playfully, pushing herself off me and holding out her hand.

I let her pull me up before straightening up and taking a deep breath. Wanda was right. I just needed to be open and explain my piece. It would be fine.

—

So, it wasn't fine.

When I entered my mum's living quarters, she wasn't the happiest to see me. In fact, she actively turned her body to face her TV when I came through the door.

"Hey," I started with a small smile, fighting the nerves in my stomach. "Can we, er, can we talk?"

She grabbed the cushion on the couch next to her, hugging it to her chest. Her eyes didn't leave the TV, but the space next to her was free, so I took that as an opportunity to close the door and sit beside her.

The news was playing on the TV – headlines, I think – and they were talking about a new elected congressman in New York.

"Seriously? The news? Even in your free time?" I asked playfully, hoping it would lighten the mood.

She didn't even glance my way as she muttered, "I like to know what's happening in the world."

Losing my smile, I straightened up and cleared my throat. "Right, right..."

It went quiet as the TV played in the background and my mum said absolutely nothing. I grabbed the other cushion on the couch and hugged it to my chest, similar to her. It was a nervous habit that I picked up from, well, from her.

"You said you wanted to talk?" she reminded me. "So, talk."

Having the Black Widow as your mother wasn't something anyone could get used to. She could be the most caring, loving, protective person in the world, but she could also appear quiet, intimidating and ruthless like the trained assassin she was. Not the greatest combination when trying to open up to her.

"I think I know what you're thinking," I started, pinching my hand to distract from my growing anxiety.

Without hesitation, she bent forward to grab the TV remote and turned it off before turning to me with sad eyes.

"That's where you're wrong," she said calmly, and it was way worse than her yelling. I would have preferred her yelling to be honest. The disappointment in her voice was much worse. "You always assume you know what I'm thinking. What I'm going to say or do."

I avoided her eyes guiltily. "Mum, look, I know that I should have told you the truth. And I know how angry you are, but–"

"I'm not angry, Y/N!" she shouted, finally, standing up off the couch and creating space between us.

I winced. "You sound angry."

She put her hands on her hips, looking down to her feet and taking a breath. Her voice at normal volume, she said, "I'm upset. You– you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. Instead, I had to put it together when you acted how you did with Wanda after that mission and..." She paused, sighing. "Forget it."

"No, keep going," I pleaded, the guilt piercing through me sharply. "You're right."

She swallowed hard, glancing at me with glassy eyes. "I wouldn't have done anything. I know I have in the past, but this is Wanda we're talking about. I've been her mentor for a year. I care about her and– and– she's good. And she's good for you."

Okay, I definitely misread this whole thing because now my mum was upset, on the verge of tears, and I was the arsehole responsible for it.

"I'm so sorry," I said, standing up and moving forward to hold her arms. "I should have trusted you. I mean, it wasn't even about trust. I was just scared you'd react badly. But it wrong of me to assume that."

She frowned, looking down to her shoes. "I know I can be tough sometimes, but it's only because I care."

I thought back to Wanda's words and gave her a small smile. "I know. I get it from you."

"I am happy for you, you know," she said, glancing at me petulantly.

My expression softened. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

Without another word, she pulled me in for a motherly hug, making me close my eyes and relax in her arms. I still felt horrible for making her feel like I couldn't trust her when it was anything but that.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quietly into her shoulder.

"I forgive you," she said, before pulling away and giving me a small smile. "Now tell me. You're happy?"

The thought of being with Wanda gave me butterflies and I couldn't help but smile in response. With a nod, I said, "I am."

She nodded, squeezing my shoulders gently before fully letting go. "Good. I'm glad you've got her... I know you can take care of yourself, but she's strong, too. She can look out for you when I'm not around anymore."

I shoved her in the shoulder. "Don't joke about that. She isn't replacing you and you're not going anywhere, you hear me?"

She laughed, nodding. "Not yet anyway. But sure, okay."

I relaxed and gave her a nervous smile. "So, you wanna meet Wanda? Like, as my girlfriend and not your student?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "If I must."

I smiled widely, grabbing her hand and leading her to the door. "She loves you a lot, y'know. She wanted me to tell you about us as soon as we got together. She hated lying to you."

"Yeah because she knows that lying is wrong," she teased me, making me groan loudly. With a chuckle, she added, "I love her, too. She's definitely something."

"Hell yeah she is," I said in agreement, grinning to my mum as I dragged her to the living-area where I last left Wanda.

On the way, we passed Steve in the hall, who took notice of the smiles on our faces and nodded knowingly.

"Glad to see you worked it out," he said supportively.

"Thanks for the heads up," I told him gratefully as we passed him.

When we reached the living-area, I saw Wanda sat on the couch watching TV. When she saw who entered, she straightened up instantly, moving to stand and unsure what else to say or do. It was cute, the respect she had for my mum.

"Did you– I– She told you?" she stumbled over her words, starting to speak to me but eventually looking to my mum.

My mum glanced at me before meeting Wanda's nervous eyes. "She did."

Wanda licked her lips anxiously. "And you're okay with it...? Angry...? Wanna kill me...?"

I watched my mum, nodding encouragingly to her. She sighed before giving Wanda a small smile.

"No killing will be necessary," she reassured my girlfriend. "Unless, of course, you break my daughter's heart. Then in which case, I may have to find you when you're sleeping."

"Mum!" I complained, face falling into my hands with embarrassment.

"I'm just being truthful," my mum said with seriousness, before looking to Wanda expectantly.

Wanda surprisingly took it well, probably used to my mum's personality after training with her for a year. "I understand completely, Nat and I'll hold you to that. I have no intention of breaking Y/N's heart."

A rare, genuine smile appeared on my mother's lips. "I know you don't. Just–" She paused, glancing at me. "Keep her safe, yeah? She's a bit stupid sometimes."

Wanda laughed as my mum smiled with amusement, like it was an inside joke.

"Right here, you know," I reminded them with a wave of my hand.

They only rolled their eyes.

"I will," Wanda promised my mum. "Thank you for being okay with this."

My mum nodded, giving us both a final smile and once over, before saying, "I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."

Wanda and I bid our goodnights, watching her leave before a giant sigh of relief escaped our lips.

"You feel better?" Wanda asked me, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the couch.

She let me fall on her chest easily, snuggling up to her as she wrapped an arm around me and held me close. I inhaled her perfume, a familiar and comforting scent, as my head rested in the crook of her neck.

"I feel better," I answered, closing my eyes and letting her intertwine our fingers.

"I believe this is the part where you say I was right," she prompted, a hint of amusement in her words.

"Don't make me hurt you," I mumbled, making her laugh quietly beneath me.

"You're lucky I love you," she said, kissing the top of my head. "I guess opposites do attract. You're the stupid one and I'm the clever one."

"Wanda?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

She laughed again, and even though it was at me, I couldn't help the content smile from spreading on my lips.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Cool, Confident Libero (Haikyuu!!)

Primary Universe

Summary: An accident during practice leaves Noya all tangled up and nowhere to go when his teammates discover something new about him.

A/N: I wanted to write a fic where someone got stuck in the net. I also love the crap out of lee Noya, so...yeah that's pretty much it. Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,762

~~~

“Nishinoya!”

The gym was a flurry of motion. Noya had been trying his quick set that he’d seen another team do, only he’d put too much momentum into his sideways jump and jumped too high at the same time, causing him to grab onto the top of the net to try and catch himself. Only rather than fall back down on the same side he’d tried to set from, he ended up flipping over the top of it, his legs flying in an arc over to the other side, hands grasping desperately at the webbing to try and stop himself. Meanwhile, his teammates on either side rushed forward to either try and catch him or steady the netting so it wouldn’t rip and make the situation even worse.

In the end, Noya’s arms got tangled up in the netting, and he dangled awkwardly from it on the opposite side from where he’d started.

“Noya! Are you okay?!” Suga cried.

Noya grunted, starting to drag the netting down with his weight. Before he could reply to everyone’s concerns, Kageyama reached out to steady him by grabbing onto his waist right at the same time that the libero slipped even further downwards, causing the first-year setter to catch him by the ribs instead.

“GYAH!!” Noya shrieked, instinctively kicking his legs out and nearly catching Kageyama in the stomach. “Dohohohohohon’t!”

Startled, Kageyama took a step back and merely stood there awkwardly as the others around him gradually helped Noya back down to the gym floor so that he was at least standing on his own two feet, even if the net was still keeping his arms bound above him in an unforgiving tangle of limbs and webbing.

“Are you okay?” Kageyama asked after a moment.

Noya groaned. “Yeah, but my pride probably broke every bone just now.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Ah, n-no. Just…you caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

Even more so than flipping over the net? Kageyama thought, but said nothing more.

Suga pressed a hand to Noya’s lower back gently. “Are you okay, Noya?”

“F-Fine. Just embarrassed. That was a really lousy set.”

“Hang tight; we’ll get you out of this net. Is it hurting you?”

“Eh, just doesn’t feel super comfortable,” Noya replied, remaining nonchalant despite his awkward situation. “But it’s not chafing. I’ll be okay.”

Suga nodded, then moved to help Daichi and Ennoshita untangle him from the net’s grasp.

“Hey, Noya, your jersey came untucked,” Hinata said, stepping forward to grab at the fabric and try to pull it back down over the tiny sliver of the libero’s belly that was now showing. “I’ll fix it for—”

“Hi-Hinatahahaha!” Noya giggled, twisting out of the way. “Dohohon’t!”

“Hold still, Noya,” Daichi ordered, so focused on his task he didn’t realize what was actually going on.

Noya sputtered a couple of extra giggles, then made the mistake of making eye contact with the redheaded first-year. Hinata’s eyes were wide, shining, like he’d just seen the Tiny Giant play on TV for the first time and was inspired. The libero’s eyes widened right back.

“D-Don’t,” he pleaded. “Hinata—”

“Are you ticklish?” Hinata asked, and suddenly everyone’s attention had shifted.

Noya flushed bright red. He desperately wished Asahi were here to save him, but of course, this was the one time the ace had gotten a cold and stayed home.

“N-No-! I mean yes, but – but please don’t – not like this!” The libero sputtered, feeling the heat of his embarrassment on his cheeks and ears. His heart was racing, blood pumping through his veins. He tried to pull his arms down but they were still stuck tight.

“Noya,” Suga asked curiously, “are you ticklish? Really?”

“I wouldn’t have even thought about it,” Daichi added, still fussing with the net. “But I guess it makes sense. Lots of people are.”

They were all talking about it so casually. Noya was very, very aware of how exposed and helpless he was right now, especially with Hinata’s bright eyes on him and Kageyama’s wicked smirk backing him up.

“D-Don’t…please,” Noya begged, realizing what was about to happen and unable to stop it at all. Hinata poked his side to test the waters, grinning when the libero couldn’t help but smile and jerk out of the way. “Guys, please, I’m – I’m really ticklish, I can’t—”

Kageyama shoved the redhead out of the way, and for a split second Noya thought maybe the setter was taking pity on him. But in the next moment those hopes were shattered when he felt fingers pressing deep into his ribs. “Oh, yeah. This is payback time.”

“No! Nohohohohohoho, dohohohohohohon’t!” Noya squealed, bursting into high-pitched giggles despite himself. He couldn’t bring his arms down at all; this was not good. “Ahahahahahahaha! Plehehease, Kageyamahahahaha!”

“Hey, no fair!” Hinata whined, reaching under Kageyama to grab at Noya’s sides. “I wanted to tickle him first!”

“GYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Nohohohohohohohoho!”

“Guys, stop tickling him! You’re making this harder for Ennoshita and I,” Daichi grumbled, still trying to free their poor teammate from his prison.

“Stahahahahahahahap! Daichi sahahahaid to stohohohohohop! Guys!”

“You didn’t show me mercy when I was stuck in that bus.” Kageyama smirked. “I’m just getting even, finally.”

“And I just really want to tickle you,” Hinata added, nearly bouncing around for how excited he was.

“Guys, plehehehehehease! Please, I cahahahahahan’t – AHAHAHAHAAAAAH!! HINATA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

Hinata had grabbed onto one of his thighs and begun squeezing there, but at the strong reaction he got he went for both at once. “Ooh, you’re really ticklish here!”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Noya tossed his head back and let out his loudest, screechiest laughter, wiggling and kicking against the net and his ticklers in a fit of desperation, and everyone in the gym took a moment to stare and smile at the scene unfolding before them. Noya was always an energetic, positive presence on the team. But no one had ever heard him laugh like this before. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE I CAHAHAHAHAN’T TAKE IT!! HINATAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“I’m tickling you, too,” Kageyama muttered, but he was smiling, still drilling his fingers into Noya’s ribs.

Noya had never had both of his worst spots tickled at once before. Even Asahi never pushed him that far; the ace knew he couldn’t handle it. But Asahi wasn’t here. Noya was on his own. He could not have been more embarrassed by the sounds leaving his mouth, intermixed with pleas for mercy. He was the cool, confident libero. He didn’t beg.

Yet here he was.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! DAICHIHEHEHEHEHE!!” Noya begged his captain to intervene. “MAHAHAHAHAHAKE THEM STOHOHOHOHOHOP IT, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

But to everyone’s surprise, it was Kinoshita who came to Noya’s rescue. He grabbed Kageyama and Hinata by their jerseys and pulled them away. “That’s enough, you two. Let him breathe. Can’t you see he’s practically crying?”

The first-years looked, and sure enough, there were mirthful tears in the corners of Noya’s eyes. The libero gasped for breath, hanging limp from the net, barely able to stand up anymore. They both winced, then bowed in apology. “Sorry, Nishinoya.”

“J-Just…just get me out,” Noya mumbled, turning his face away from them, trying to hide in his own shoulder. He was so humiliated by the whole situation that when Daichi and Ennoshita finally got him free a few minutes later, he crossed his arms over his stomach and stared at the floor, refusing to meet any of their eyes.

There was silence in the gym for a long, long minute. Noya struggled to think of something to say, but what could he say? Everything was already out in the open; how ticklish he was, how fast it made him beg, how loud it made him scream. He flushed a deep red, hating every silent second that went by.

Finally Daichi spoke up. “Noya, are you—”

“That was awesome, Noya!” Hinata cried, interrupting their captain and bringing a loud energy back into the room that had been sorely lacking just moments before. Everyone stared at him, surprised – including Nishinoya.

“W-What?”

“You laugh so loud!” Hinata jumped up and down, beaming. “You get cooler and cooler every day!”

The libero was stunned. “I…w-what?”

“I mean, I’m not surprised,” Suga said, grinning. “Until Hinata showed up, Noya was always the most energetic one here. It makes sense he’d be just as loud and crazy when someone tickles him.”

“No kidding! It made me want to laugh just listening to him,” Tanaka added, chuckling a little for emphasis. “This is great! Why didn’t you tell us you were so ticklish, Noya?”

Noya blinked several times. He looked at each of his teammates in turn, stunned. “You…you don’t think it’s…lame?”

“Lame?!” At least half of the Karasuno boys exclaimed at once.

“Are you kidding?!”

“It’s the best!”

“Watching that was the best thing that’s happened to me this week!”

“Dude, your ticklish laugh is so much fun!”

And on it went, each of the boys weighing in their opinions, every one of them positive. Fun. Hilarious. Happy. Inspiring.

Inspiring?

Noya couldn’t believe his ears. “I…I thought for sure you’d all think I was a total loser for being so ticklish. But you…you think it’s inspiring?”

“Dude,” Tanaka said, coming over to wrap an arm around his shoulders, “if I heard you laugh like that before the start of every game, I’d never lose a single one of them.”

“Same here!”

“I know, right?”

“We should make this a tradition!”

“Hold on a second, guys,” Daichi said, raising his voice to be heard over everyone else. “Let’s not get carried away here. Noya,” he turned to the libero, “are you okay?”

Noya looked at him, then at Tanaka, then Hinata and Kageyama, and each of his teammates in turn. Suddenly it didn’t bother him so much that Asahi wasn’t here. These were his friends, too, and hearing all of their positive reviews of his insane sensitivity just made him feel like that much more of a cool, confident libero.

“Yeah,” he said at last, smiling. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“This is great!” Hinata cried, wrapping his arms around his middle and digging into his sides.

“ACK!! Hinata!”

Tanaka joined in, scribbling into his underarm.

“AIEE!! Tanaka, wahahahait-!”

Then Kinoshita stepped forward, then Suga, then Kageyama again, and before he knew it, Noya found himself tackled to the floor of the gym, the tickling and teasing of several of his teammates at once overriding any lingering anxiety he may have had about how incredibly ticklish he was. All he could do was screech, and writhe, and fight, and beg, and laugh and laugh and laugh.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #haiykuu #haikyuu!!#hq #yuu #nishinoya #noya #karasuno #practice #stuck in the net #playful #fun #teasing #libero #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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yourmcu · 3 years

Text

Mesmerized

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 1,388

A/n: sorry it took a while! I really hope this turned out ok I’m so nervous lmfaosdkdk

Warnings: none

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Natasha’s outside the compound by the landing zone, taking light sips on her beer occasionally. The Avengers are having some sort of gathering or low-key party inside to celebrate their victory against Thanos a while back.

They never really had time to gather everybody just after the battle, but Tony contacted everybody for this special night. Natasha just wants to take a break from the games and conversations for a minute.

Speaking of conversations, she rolls her eyes at the thought about something Steve said. Because the tables have turned; if she was the one bugging Steve to date a few years back, he's now bombarding her with names of single people they knew, one of them being Bucky.

“He wouldn’t mind going out to dinner with you sometime.” Steve suggested. But Natasha knows the Winter Soldier and herself are better off as friends.

Natasha gets up when after the guardian’s ship lands smoothly against the grass meters away from her. She moves a few strands of her hair from her face to get a clear view of Thor striding out of the ship as soon as the door opens, along with the other guardians.

“Ah, Romanoff!” The god of thunder grins, patting her on the back. She’s never seen him this happy. Probably because it's all thanks to him the whole universe was free from mad titans – at least for now. “How’s life? Oh, yes, I’d like to introduce you to my friends here… of course you already know rabbit, and tree…”

Greetings and hand shaking fills the friendly atmosphere for a moment. Then you finally catch up with them, nudging Thor’s side and thrusting the large barrel of Asgardian ale into his arms.

“You must be the Black Widow,” you breathe out and offer a warm smile to the redhead, your hand outstretches. “Thor’s told me awesome stories about you guys. Y/N, by the way.”

Natasha nods, slightly breathless like you are but because of... well, you. She returns a smile and introduces herself as well.

“Everything’s pretty tech-y now, s’mazing.” You muse, entering the compound side by side with Natasha. The rest are walking in front of you, chatting among themselves. “I missed this planet.”

She glances sideways at you, “when’s your last visit?”

You chuckle. “I honestly don’t remember when but, it was a brief visit to my hometown and everything looked old fashioned, I think these huge compact disks were all the rage that time, vines- no, not vines-“

“Vinyl records?” Natasha raises an eyebrow, smiling. You laugh, which she finds adorable, and nod. “You and Quill are related, then?” She proceeds to ask since you look like a normal human, no antennas or any odd space stuff you could’ve inherited.

“Oh, no, we’re both half human though,” you shrug. “What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

She hesitates to tell a bit of her story at first but you seem nice and - accepting, like you’d never judge her. But she does leave out a few parts for another conversation.

Natasha retreats over to Steve who is behind the bar counter when you receive a big hug from Peter and Tony greets you with a “How’s it going, fireball?” and a pat on the back. She figures you want to meet the others, so she sits down across the super soldier to steal glances at you from afar.

“Finally, I was starting to think he wasn’t gonna show - hey!” Steve raises his champagne at Thor and he does the same gesture before hurrying after Bruce. “Is it just me or did Groot get taller?”

You're still joking around with Tony, pretending to hit the still-bandaged wound on his chest, Rhodey laughs along, then Wanda offers you a cocktail and you accept it, thanking her.

Steve’s now going on about Wakanda, also sharing the stories from T’Challa. Natasha’s barely listening but occasionally hum and nod.

“Nat, if you don’t close your mouth you’re going to drool.” He laughs lightheartedly, averting his gaze from her to you. “I guess we have a winner, then?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Natasha gets up to grab another beer from the cooler. Steve continues to laugh, having a stupid grin on his face. “Oh c’mon, what’s her name?”

Even saying your name she feels out of breath. There's no point in pretending she isn’t into you now. “This isn’t normal. I just met her tonight and I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”

“You’re infatuated, it’s-”

“Hi,” you sit on a stool across from the two avengers, holding an open pack of marshmallows. Natasha lamely excuses herself to fetch a bottle opener. Steve straightens up and extends a hand which you take. “Nice to finally meet you, I’m-”

“Y/N.” Steve says. “Natasha’s been telling me about you.”

“I just thought you seemed nice,” she quickly recovers but her heart is still pounding.

You raise an eyebrow at her and giggle. “I’m flattered. You’re not so bad yourself, Natasha.” It’s true, you think she ‘seemed nice’ too. Sure she sounded so badass when Thor tells you stories but tonight she looks so cozy with her sweater and her hair braided to one side.

“Being surrounded with people like you guys is great but now I just feel like a party trick.” You take out a marshmallow while scanning the room (Steve is now playing pool with Sam, you notice, and you're alone with the redhead).

“What do you mean?”

You hold the marshmallow between your fingertips, igniting it out of nowhere for a second so it roasts just right, then pop it in your mouth. “Pretty useless, right?”

“Maybe if you only used it for something like that, but no,” Natasha smiles softly. “Fire conjuring, bit scary if you ask me. What if you randomly lit something up?”

“I was born with it. I remember having to wear gloves all the time as a child when I first set a houseplant to flames,” you both laugh. “I’m in full control of it now though.”

“S’that why Tony calls you ‘fireball’?”

You let out a laugh again. “Yeah. Or he might’ve forgot my actual name.”

“Y/N! I took the liberty of putting your stuff in the room you’ll be sleeping at.” Thor butts in, grinning from ear to ear, patting you on the head.

“Oh, right. Thanks buddy.”

“You’re welcome!”

Natasha turns to you, “you’re staying?” In her head she's coming up with ways on how to talk to you again once the party’s over and you return to space with the guardians. This just makes it a whole lot easier to get to know you even better.

“Yup, Thor is too. We both agreed on staying for a few weeks to catch up on stuff.” You reply. “I might actually turn in now, ‘think those cocktails are kicking in...”

“I’ll walk with you.” She says without giving it much thought but you nod and smile appreciatively.

“Perfect. It’s the guestroom beside your room.” Thor claps his hands together and walks away.

-----

“Can I ask you a question?”

You zip your bag and hum before looking up at her.

Natasha's leaning on your doorframe, hesitating. Is she going to fast? Is it too soon to ask? She fiddles with her hands, “do you have any plans tomorrow?”

This is fine. If you say yes or say no then decline her next question, she’ll just forget any of this happened.

“I don’t - well, I think Thor wanted to go out for breakfast but that’s it. Why?”

“Do you... maybe wanna go out?” Natasha asks silently, looking at anywhere but you. “To, you know, catch you up on some of the things you missed. Only if you want to, no pressure.”

But your eyes light up at her words. You kind of expected it, she was showing signs that she likes you all night. And you actually made the Black Widow nervous. “Natasha, I’d love to.”

“Oh,” she sighs in relief, feeling the beat of her heart return to a normal pace. “Well I’ll - I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk over to her and place a hand on her arm, then lean over to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Good night.”

694 notes · View notes

hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

Hasty Encounters, Hasty Decisions

Pairings: Yuta x Reader, ft. nct 127

Words: 10K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), drinking, slight smut, insinuation of sex

Summary:

Y/N and Yuta meet for the first time and learn quickly of not only their attractions, but also their many more differences. Painful words and revelations leave a deep ridge between the two of them, that is until someone makes a shocking confession. Will they continue to make hasty decisions, or will they learn to forgive and forget?

Yuna was the exact opposite of you. She was gorgeous, outgoing and such a party person. You’d rather chill at home and binge your favorite drama for the billionth time, and that’s exactly how you planned to spend this weekend, however, Yuna had different plans.

“Come on, this is the last one of the semester! The NCT frat house always has legendary end of the semester parties. Besides you haven’t been to one yet, you need to broaden your horizons.” She kept jabbing your side, as if that was a good tactic to make you agree to her idea.

“No, I already set up my computer for six straight episodes of Penthouse, it’s too late now.” You gave her a triumphant grin, as if that were enough to get Yuna off your case.

“Are you serious right now?” She rolled her eyes at you, “This is ridiculous, I get that the actors are hot and all, but these are the hot guys in real life! Stop pining over some made up character and get it on with a real guy!”

“Who’s getting it on with a real guy?”

“Mark, Yuna keeps trying to take away my drama time, she’s trying to force me to go to a frat party.” You whined to him. Surely he would take your side, he’s a homebody just like yourself.

“The NCT frat party? I heard those are awesome. Why don’t you want to go?”

Sike.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you Mark, you’re supposed to take my side unconditionally.”

“Right… Yuna why do you want her to go so badly?”

“Mark, don’t you want to go to the party? They’re even better than what people say.”

“Really?”

“Mark!” You tugged at his shirt.

“What? I’ve always wanted to go. You know you should really get out there more. I think Yuna’s right on this one.”

“See?” Yuna gave you a smug look.

“Mark, you’re not helping.”

He swung his arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer, “Maybe you should go to this one, I think it’ll be fun.”

“You’re only saying that cause you want to go.”

“Is it working?” He grinned at you before you shrugged his arm off your shoulder.

“No. I already told you, I’ve got a busy weekend up ahead.”

“Yeah of bingeing dramas.” Yuna put her hands on her hips in protest.

Mark tilts his head at you, “How about this? If you go this weekend, I promise that I will help you set up that editing software on your computer that you’ve been wanting.”

“Deal.” There was no hesitation. You’ve been dying for him to help you for months but he never got around to it.

“Damn, that was easy.” Yuna grinned, “I’ve got tons of stuff you can borrow for tomorrow night!”

“What’s wrong with my stuff?” You frowned.

“Umm… have you seen your closet?” There was a snicker from beside you, but it was quickly cut off when you elbowed him in the side.

“I agree with Yuna on this one too.” Mark said, rubbing his side where you had just jabbed him. “Your clothes just aren’t suitable for a frat party.”

“And how would you know?” You mocked him, knowing he’d never been to one before.

“I’ve seen many movies, thank you very much.”

“Not the same Mark, but regardless you both are coming with me.” Yuna spoke up, “My class is gonna start in fifteen and it’s across campus so I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later. Don’t think you can ditch this one!”

She ran off in the other direction before there was room for response.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Mark chuckled, throwing his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, ever since she and Johnny broke up, it’s like she’s going there to make sure he sees that she’s doing fine. To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”

“Everyone goes through different ways of mourning y’know? That’s just Yuna.” He shrugged, kicking the stone in front of him.

You dropped it, feeling the mellow mood.

“Well, I should head to class then, I’ll see you at lunch yeah?” You nodded in response and with that he left.

“Sure.” Your eyes followed his back as he continued kicking stones out of his way.

Beep Beep!

“Are you sure this isn’t too short? I’m pretty sure you can see all of my ass.”

“Y/N, that’s the point.” You shot her a look. “Besides you’ll be so drunk you’ll feel fantastic either way. You look hot.” She flashed you a smile and grabbed your arm.

“Now come on! Mark’s waiting.”

You groaned, dragging your feet in resistance. The couch looked so comfy right now.

Beep Beep!

“Yeah we get it Mark!” Yuna yelled, “Come on.”

You were pushed into the passenger seat and she slammed the door on you, sliding into the back right after.

Yuna leaned forward resting her arms on the both of the seats in front of her. “Ready?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the window. You glanced at Mark, who was staring at the rear view mirror. You smiled at his face.

“Wow.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and glancing at you. “You look great. You guys look great.”

You sent him a small smile, but went back to looking out the window.

“Of course we do, we spent hours on this.” Yuna scoffed.

“Right.” With one last glance in the mirror at Yuna, he started the car and headed to the address.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, starting to get nervous.

“How ever long we want to. You know you could even stay the night.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you, but in vain.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Right. Just make sure you text me to let me know if you’re going home with someone.” She laughed, “That goes for all of us, I don’t want to be stranded without a ride home Mark.”

Mark blushed and shook his head, not really replying.

There was a comfortable silence throughout the ride and you hadn’t noticed that you had already arrived until the echoing sound of music hit your ears.

“Alright! Are we ready!?” Suddenly you had a headache, and Yuna was not helping.

You were unceremoniously dragged out of the car while Mark, slowly clambored out of his side.

“Let’s go already.”

“You know I can walk on my own right?”

“I know, but you’re a flight risk.” She gripped my arm tighter and pulled you to the front of the frat, skipping the large line that seemed to wrap around the street.

“Yuna! Pleasure to see you again!” And with that you were let in.

It felt as though you were entering a whole new world when you walked through that door. You saw many familiar faces, and many unfamiliar.

“How about we start off with drinks?” She hooked her arms into both yours and Mark’s and dragged you to the makeshift bar. You held eye contact with Mark before letting out a sheepish grin.

If there’s gonna be lots of alcohol involved, how bad could it be?

“Yuna! I’ve got special mixes for you, unless you’re here for the hard stuff. But you know how good my cocktails are. So what are we starting off with?” The man with silver brown hair at the table shouted over the music.

“Taeil!” Yuna smiled, giving him a small hug, leaving you and Mark feeling empty and vulnerable. “I’ll take you up on your mix, I know how many shots you can get into a cocktail. These are my friends, Y/N and Mark. Can you show them a bit of your magic?”

There was a friendly laugh as the man, Taeil, shot you both a smile. “Of course! Is this your first time here?” He asked whilst pouring his concoction.

You nodded silently, looking at Yuna for help, but she wasn’t paying any attention.

“Thought so, I would definitely remember someone like you.” He gave you a wink, handing the first one to you.

You immediately sipped it, not knowing how to answer his comment, evident in your blushing face.

“Oh my god. This is amazing.” You looked up at him, actually confused at how you couldn’t taste the alcohol, seeing as you saw just how much he poured into that drink.

“That’s Taeil for you, he knows how to get everyone the most fucked up.” She grinned at him, taking both drinks from him and handing one to Mark, keeping the other for herself.

He grinned, “Of course, come back when you’re done, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“You’ll be seeing plenty of me.” She sang back while dragging the two of you off again. She pulled you to a crowd of yelling people, and as curious as you were, you’d much rather sit on the couch and sip your drink.

“Okay but actually what’s in this?” Mark asked, he sounded as amazed as you felt and you laughed at his expression.

“I don’t know, but it’s amazing right?” You took another sip, turning your attention to the loud cheers from the people around you.

Some unfortunate frat boy was doing a keg stand, held up by Johnny. “Jungwoo! Man, you good? That was a shit ton this time.”

The boy with fluffy brown haired grinned toothily, “I don’t know man, I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

“Alright, you go have fun then.” Johnny laughed, shoving the keg under a table. “Beer pong anyone?”

You rolled your eyes. Johnny and Yuna had dated for a short time earlier this year, but you never really liked Johnny. I mean in general he was a fun guy, everyone liked him, it was hard for you not to. But as a boyfriend? With Yuna? Nope. You saw what she went through and that wasn’t healthy. It’s not like you hated him, in fact you and Johnny had plenty of fun conversations, but he was too out there for you.

You sighed, turning away from the commotion of guys trying to earn the chance to play against Johnny.

“Hey where are you going?” Yuna asked, still staring at the table. You pointed to your now empty drink, “I’m gonna get more!” You yelled back.

She loosened her grip nodding, but you were sure she stopped listening.

“You want me to go with you?” Mark asked, but you could tell he wanted to stay with Yuna and watch.

“No I’m fine. I’ll be back soon, I’ll probably get a drink and then some fresh air. I promise.” He nodded, frowning at you. At least he cared enough to look worried.

You headed back to the familiar table, “Back so soon?”

“Yeah, I don’t even remember drinking all of it.” You laughed, “That probably means it’s working right?”

He chuckled, “It works wonders. So what do you want this time? Something strong or sweet or just something that’ll knock you out?”

You giggled at the offer, “You know, as tempting as that last one is, I think I’ll just go with sweet. Make it so I can’t taste it.”

“Right, coming right up.��

There was another obnoxious cheer. “Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!”

“What are they up to? Beer pong?” He asked, back facing the crowd.

“Yeah.”

“Go figures, that’s the only game Yuta slaughters Johnny in.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey can I get something?” The keg boy from earlier stumbled up to you, obviously having trouble standing still.

“Jungwoo, man what’s up?” Taeil chuckled, handing you your drink as he faced the boy.

“I feel great.” The grin was so endearing that you felt the need to smile with him.

“I’m sure you do buddy. You wanted a drink right?” Taeil reached down for a bottle of Vodka from under the table. You frowned, looking at the half full bottle still on the counter.

“Yeah,” The boy giggled, turning to face you. “Hi. I’m Jungwoo. You’re kinda hot.”

You blushed, sipping your drink. You shouldn’t have been affected, this boy was drunk out of his mind, he probably thought that anything with two legs was hot.

“Here you go buddy. I made this one good, you probably can’t even taste it.” Taeil walked around the table to hand it to Jungwoo, standing next to you.

Jungwoo sipped it, nodding his head contently.

Taeil bent down and whispered in your ear, “ Don’t worry, it’s just pineapple juice mixed with water. He won’t even tell the difference.” He pulled back giving you a grin.

“Hey Jungwoo, why don’t you take this pretty lady outside for some fresh air, I think she could use it.” He winked at you and pointed his head in direction of the empty backyard.

“Of course I will.” He grinned, sticking his elbow out for you to grab, to which you complied and sent Taeil a little smile on your way out.

You sat on the stairs of the deck, Jungwoo landing next to you. He was having a little more difficulty trying to sit down without falling over.

“So what’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You answered softly, taking another sip. It looked like this one was going to be finished just as fast as the last. You shook your head worried about future you.

“Huh. Cute.” He took a long sip of his.

Again you blushed. You really needed to stop doing that every time some guy talks to you.

“You know you’re kinda cute to be hanging out here.” He commented mindlessly, chewing on a block of ice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like you’re hot, but you seem like you’re too sweet y’know, to be hanging out at a frat house.”

You giggled, “It’s not like I wanted to come here. But you know I’m not having a bad time.”

Another sip.

“Yeah? That’s good. You a student here?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m a Sophomore, what are you?” He was a bit blunt, but you didn’t mind, the alcohol was kicking in and you were beginning to think everything was funny. Honestly, sober you would’ve probably thought this whole situation was funny too.

“I’m a Junior.”

“Oh.”

He paused, thinking.

“You know I’m into older women.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. And he grinned at you, leaning back on his elbows, his drink long gone.

“Well that’s a shame, cause I’m into older men.” He pouted at you.

“People actually think I’m a lot older than I am.”

“I’m sure they do Jungwoo.”

He grinned at you.

“Hey, I kinda like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth.”

Again, you couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter from erupting.

“Jungwoo, you’re a total flirt.” You had your hand covering your mouth as you tried to stop the giggles, swaying towards him.

He let out a little giggle. You lost your balance and fell towards him, leaning against his shoulder. Jungwoo could hardly manage to keep himself up let alone both your weights. The two of you tumbled flat on the deck, in giggling fits.

You sighed, finally calming yourself as you rolled over staring at the black sky, not a single star in sight.

You turned your head sharply and faced Jungwoo, his nose only and inch away from yours. You could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to you as he eyes were trained on your lips.

“You wanna dance?”

“Huh?”

“I wanna dance. Are you coming?” You attempted to push yourself up, struggling for a good minute.

Jungwoo followed, “Yeah, only if you help me get up, I think I might be a little drunk.” He laughed to himself.

“A little?” You had no right to tease him.

Pulling each other up, you guys somehow managed to make it back inside. As you stumbled inside together Mark happened to find you, holding on to your waist to stabilize you.

“Dude where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you.” You giggled, hanging on to both Mark and Jungwoo. He sniffed, smelling the alcohol on you.

“How much did you drink? You smell like a sketchy gas station.” His nose crinkled.

Jungwoo stumbled, pulling you and consequently Mark with him.

“Woah man, maybe you should sit down.” Mark reached his arm out to grab Jungwoo.

“But I’m gonna dance with Y/N.” He whined, but nevertheless letting Mark lead him to the couch.

“Next time yeah?”

Jungwoo nodded, gladly sinking into the cushion.

“Y/N how about you? You good?” Mark asked, leaning down to your eye level. You leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes for a bit.

“Mmmmm.”

“Mmmmm? What’s that mean? You need something?” You shook your head, opting to wrap your arms around his waist.

The two of you swayed there for a bit, until you started to feel dizzy. “Water?”

“Huh?” His head was resting on top of yours. “You want water?” He pulled away, once again looking you in the eyes.

He nodded slowly at you, “Okay, I’ll get you water, you just stay right here okay?”

You leaned against the couch and smiled at him nodding in response.

He was only gone for a moment when you felt a presence invading your space. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You opened your eyes.

Woah.

He smiled at you, liking your reaction, “Woah?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Your hand reached for the lock of blonde hair nearest to you. He chuckled, grabbing your hand, “I’m gonna go with no then.”

You looked up at him, wide eyed earning you a grin. “Wanna dance?”

There was nothing left to do but nod.

He grabbed your head, softly pulling you towards the space everyone was dancing on. From the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you saw Yuna making out with that guy from your Calculus class but you shook it off, there were more important things in front of you.

You were tugged against his chest, and the heat coming off his chest making you feel dizzy. After a few moments he turned you around, placing his hand under your chin, leaning your head back in the crevice of his neck. You closed your eyes. His hands once softly gripping your waist dug into your hips, dragging you closer if that was possible. As your bodies grinded against each other, you felt his lips make contact with your exposed neck. You gasped, stretching your neck more in order to give him as much access as you could. Already you could feel the spots where hickies would be impossible to hide the next day, but you didn’t care.

Soon the kisses and licks turned into love bites and the grip on your waist grew firmer. It was becoming much easier to feel the growing eagerness of your partner. You rotated your hips, pushing back into him and he threw his head back groaning.

“Fuck, how about we take this upstairs?” He moaned into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your stomach clench.

Somehow you made it upstairs, stumbling through frenzied kisses and already swollen lips. He pushed your backwards through a wooden door frame and immediately turned you around as he slammed the door shut. He trapped you against the cool wood panel before attacking your neck once more, you let out a gasp, running his hands over his chest. His lips didn’t stop attacking until he found your sweet spot, you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair pulling slightly. He moaned into your neck before swearing and pushing you towards the bed.

Before you had even made it there he managed to rid you of your dress.

“Fuck, you know that shit really wasn’t leaving much for the imagination.” He quickly pulled his top off and pushed you down, crawling you top of you to leave a trail of kisses down your body.

“God, you’re fucking hot.” He groaned as his lips traced the black lace of your bra that Yuna forced you into.

You sunk further into the bed, his body crashing into yours, unbelievably close, as his fingers left blazing hot trails on your body.

You were wrapped around each other in the morning as you woke up. Your eyes opened slowly meeting the already awake eyes of the man next to you. For a moment you stared at each other in silence, relishing the peaceful moments before your hangover would kick in.

There was a loud clang from downstairs, causing you to flinch. The moment was over.

He pulled away from you harshly turning to throw on sweats and a shirt before moving past you to the bathroom. You wrapped yourself in the sheets sitting up and watched his back.

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to face you, “Don’t you know to leave before I wake up?” He gave you a one over while shaking his head at you. “It was just a fuck.”

You sat in silence, only jumping at the sound of the bathroom door slamming. Suddenly you felt sick. You scrambled out of bed to find the pieces of last night’s outfit scattered around the floor.

As soon as you were dressed and you cleaned yourself up as much as you could in the mirror, you ran towards the stairs. The smell of bacon wafted past you, making you wish you didn’t feel the nausea that was slowly rising.

“Y/N?” Taeil turned to see you rush past the kitchen. You stopped, backtracking to the doorway and gave him a tentative smile.

He looked at his watch and frowned, “You’re still here?”

“She was with Yuta.” A boy with black curly hair and a grey hoodie said, munching on his apple. He spun in his chair before stopping in your direction.

Yuta? Well shit, you didn’t even know his name until now.

“I’m surprised you’re still here. Yuta usually makes sure his girls leave before he wakes up. Honestly, most of them don’t even get to spend the night, he just kicks them out after his little escapade. I’m Doyoung by the way.” He flashed a little smile and tilted his head at you.

“Oh.” You blushed looking down at your feet. “I was just on my way out.”

He nodded, getting what you meant.

“Oh? Y/N?” You turned to find a familiar face.

“Jungwoo?” He smiled sheepishly at you, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry about last night. I don’t really remember much except us falling over each other. I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable did I?”

You blushed in response. “No, trust me I think it was mutual last night.” You laughed nervously, rubbing your arms, suddenly immensely aware of your less than modest outfit.

“Here!” Jungwoo stripped off his blue hoodie, leaving him in a plain white tee. He stuck his hand out, offering you the jacket, which you took gratefully. Even though you weren’t planning on staying long, it was freezing outside and you’d have to wait for a ride to come get you.

Mark! You totally forgot to tell him, you mentally slapped your forehead, knowing that he wasn’t going to let this go too easily.

The sweatshirt hung just above the length of your dress, not doing much for modesty down there, but it still felt more comfortable than before.

There was a slam and a girl came running down the stairs and towards the door, she gave you a knowing glance before exiting the building.

You sighed, you should probably get going now, Mark was going to throw a fit but you knew he'd show up anyways.

A hand came down on your shoulder, the man behind it chuckling as he watched the scene.

“You staying for breakfast Y/N?” He moved around you, grabbing a plate from Taeil and sitting down.

“Jaehyun.” You froze. You and Jaehyun were kind of friends. You had met through Yuna and Johnny. Actually you got along really well with him, you just lost contact after Johnny and Yuna broke up.

He flashed you a dimpled smile.

“No, I should get going.”

He nodded, already digging in, “You have a ride back?”

You paused. He noticed, looking up at you.

“Give me five minutes, let me just finish this and I’ll drop you off. Okay?”

You nodded and gave him a smile. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt right? Besides then you wouldn’t have to bug Mark so early.

It was 11 am, but he was probably still knocked out. A ride with Jaehyun wouldn’t kill you. He patted the seat next to you and you took up his offer.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Jungwoo set his plate down opposite of you.

You shook your head, “I don’t think I could keep it down.”

“Right.” He paused, looking at his own food with hesitation before shrugging and taking a bite.

Doyoung laughed, sinking into the seat next to the boy, “He’ll probably throw it up, but then he’ll say he made more room and eat again.”

Jungwoo shoved him whilst mid-bite before focusing on the task before him.

You looked at him, “How about you?” Referencing the lone apple in his hand.

“Oh I don’t drink enough to get sick in the mornings, I’m just less of a bacon dude, more of an apple guy.” He grinned, taking a bite.

“Johnny?” Taeil asked.

Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, grabbing the coffee Taeil just sat down.

“Sleeping, you know how he is the day after.”

Taeil nodded, “Yeah, I figured, but I thought he’d smell the bacon and be the first one down.” He laughed to himself grabbing another cup of coffee and raised it in your direction.

You shook your head smiling. Jaehyun threw his arm around the back of your chair and you looked at him. He was sipping the coffee and frowning ahead of him.

“What are you still doing here? Did I not make it clear that you should leave?” Your eyes widened at the sound of the voice you heard this morning.

“Yuta!” Taeil scolded, still setting down a plate for him. He shrugged in response taking the seat at the head of the table, farthest from you.

Jungwoo looked up intensely chewing and just as intensely glancing between the two of you.

You shrunk down in your seat, avoiding eye contact with him. Jaehyun glanced at you and set down his mug.

“You ready?” He asked, standing up with a stretch. You immediately followed his lead.

“Yeah.”

“Let me grab my keys real quick. You haven’t moved right?”

You nodded, watching Jaehyun jog up the stairs for a moment.

Taeil came and stood next to you, cup in hand, “You guys close?”

You shrugged, turning back to face him. “We used to be.”

He nodded silently, watching Jaehyun reappear.

“Got everything?” He asked, opening the door as you started towards the exit. You nodded and turned back to the kitchen one last time, sending a wave and a smile.

You didn’t miss Yuta’s scowl.

“Don’t mind Yuta, he’s just usually cranky the night after.” Jaehyun reassured you, but it didn’t do much good.

You looked out the window and nodded silently.

“Did you atleast enjoy last night?” He asked, attempting at rekindling the conversation.

“Yeah, I think I did. Honestly a lot of it was a blur.” You let out a strained laugh.

He joined you, “That’s what makes it so fun.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a comfortable silence. The car jolted to a stop.

“This is you right?”

You had zoned out and missed half the ride back.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks for the ride. Mark would’ve killed me if I asked him to pick me up.”

He nodded, “No problem. I didn’t mind at all. We should hang out again, I’ve missed you.”

You grinned, “Same, we’ll definitely hang out, just let me know when and where.”

“Will do.”

You shivered as you stepped out of the car and slammed the door. You stepped back, wrapping your arms around yourself and gave a short wave as he left before making your way to your door.

You let yourself in quietly, taking off your heels and turning around only to let out a startled scream.

“Yuna?! What the hell are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me!”

Yuna was sitting on the couch staring at the front door, looking as if she had been waiting all night.

“Well? How was last night? I’m assuming things went well because here you are waltzing in at 11:30 in the morning.” She was taunting you.

You groaned, “At least let me shower first.”

She squealed, clapping her hands whilst bouncing on the couch.

You paused, “Last night… Mark…”

Her face scrunched up, “Yeah, he’s kind of pissed. We both forgot to tell him… but we’ll make it up to him. I was thinking we’d bring him lunch.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Wait?! Both forgot? Did you hook up with someone again?!”

She continued shaking her head with a bright smile and shoved you towards the bathroom. “Clean up first!”

She laughed at your protest but you eventually gave in.

“Maaarrrk. Come on, we said we’re sorry. I mean honestly we were both drunk out of our minds, how could we have even texted you?” Yuna pouted at him, something she always did to get her way with him.

He looked away, staring at the cupcakes you had brought as a peace offering.

“If it makes you feel any better I made a complete fool out of myself this morning.” You said, still twiddling your thumbs.

He cocked his head slightly, an indication that you had his attention.

“The guy I slept with totally threw me out.”

He frowned, looking at you, “Why on earth would that make me feel any better?”

You shrugged avoiding eye contact.

“Who was it?”

“What? Are you gonna beat him up?” Yuna asked, laughing as she stole a cupcake.

“Maybe.” He turned his attention to you, “So who?”

“Yuta.”

“Yuta? As NCT frat boy Yuta? Why would you sleep with him?” He asked, his voice increasing a decibel.

“Umm.. Have you seen him? He’s hot as hell.” Yuna said, licking the frosting off her fingers before giving him a look. “I’m glad she did. It’s about time she got some action.”

“How can you be glad she slept with him? He’s a total asshole! Plus he kicked her out this morning!” He asked, reaching for the coveted cupcake. She slapped his hand away, taking a bite.

“Okay, but everyone knows when you sleep with someone at a party, you don’t stay the night, or you at least don’t stay long enough for breakfast in the morning. No offense.” The last part directed at you, but you just continued to stare at the floor.

“Well, wouldn’t you know?” Mark spat out, for once losing his temper.

Yuna paused and gave him a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, just because you go sleeping around and know the ‘etiquette’ or whatever, doesn’t mean that someone like Y/N would know.” He turned around blocking himself off from her gaze.

“Whatever. I don’t need this.” She stood up grabbing her bag. “We came to apologize, I didn’t come to be attacked. You know I’m sorry I ditched you last night but I don’t need to be called a whore cause you’re still pissy about the whole thing.”

She slammed the door on the way out, glaring at nothing in particular.

Well. There goes your ride.

Mark sighed, slouching into the cushion of his couch.

“I didn’t call her a whore. At least I didn’t mean to. It’s just she was totally attacking you, and you did nothing wrong. Except maybe sleep with a dickwad.” He groaned, rubbing his hands on his face. “I would never kick you out like that.”

“I know.” You replied, leaning into his side. “I don’t think she’s actually that mad, she’s just struggling right now. You know how she’s been since they broke up.”

“I just think she’s so desensitized, that she doesn’t even know how to be treated right.”

“I know.” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder.

The two of you sat in silence for a while.

They weren’t his frat brothers but you were sure he told them all about you and your mistake, judging by the way they were laughing at you.

“Screw them.” Yuna said, glaring at the group. “It’s not even that big of a deal, he should be honored he slept with you.”

You kept your head down, mentally cursing yourself for ever letting him get to you.

The semester had already ended and you had almost forgotten about the frat house and the embarrassment that followed, that is until Yuta and his friends sat themselves behind you in lecture today.

Yuna made a face at you, an attempt to brighten you up. A whole semester with them behind you? This was an actual nightmare.

“Where is Mark?” Yuna muttered checking her phone. “Look I’ve got to go or I’ll be late to my class but you’ll have Mark so don’t let them get to you alright?”

You nodded, playing with the strings of your sweatshirt. With one last glare Yuna exited the back of the lecture hall.

You felt a presence next you and you stiffened.

“This’ll be fun, don’t you think?” You groaned, of course he would have the nerve to sit next to you only as soon as Yuna leaves.

You chose to ignore him.

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was smirking, “Luck really was on my side-”

“That’s my seat.”

Both you and Yuta looked up and you sighed in relief seeing that it was Mark, “I don’t see a name on it.” Yuta cocked his head, the smirk still plastered over his face.

Mark just stared at him, not moving.

Eventually Yuta sighed, standing up and staring down at Mark, the height difference only enhancing the mood he was going for. “It’s a shame you’re no fun.” He moved to the seat behind yours and rested his feet on the back of your chair.

You grimaced as you felt the pressure, and rolled your eyes in annoyance. Mark sat down, turning to you.

“You good?” He asked, leaning in close to you.

Again, you nodded silently.

This was going to be a long semester.

“Are you still coming over to my place tonight?” Mark asked, packing his notebook in his bag.

Nodding, you replied, “Yeah, I still have clothes there right? I’ve got to run to the library and get some stuff first, then I’ll just come over.”

“Yeah, if not, you can just borrow something of mine.”

You nodded in agreement, watching as the last of his things were secured in his bag.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out, text me if you need anything.” He waved back at you and made his way out of the hall.

You felt Yuta lean his head forward inches away from yours. You flinched away, bending down to get your things.

“You have plans tonight?” You frowned at his question, or rather statement. He had obviously heard the conversation between you and Mark.

You chose to ignore him, one of your greater ideas.

“Umm.. There’s a party this weekend, if you wanna come.”

You struggled to hold back a snort. Was this his new way of tormenting you? Why on earth would you go to another one of his frat parties?

“It’s for Jaehyun’s birthday.”

You froze, hand half way in your backpack. After a moment you stood up, clearing your throat, attempting to move towards the exit only to find him blocking your way.

You peered behind him, his regular clique of friends long gone, you frowned.

“What?” You breathed out, tired of whatever mind game that he wanted to play.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the ever present scowl replaced by a timid look.

“I think it’d be nice of you to go. Cause you’re friends and all.” He shrugged half heartedly, like he was struggling to ask you to go.

He glanced at your scrunched face, confusion written all over it.

“It’s gonna be a small party, not like a huge thing. Just the boys and a few friends.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s gonna be really chill.”

“Right.”

You hesitated to ask for the date and time, but it was for Jaehyun’s birthday so you felt obligated.

You and Jaehyun had gotten closer over the last few months, a small joy in a hectic semester.

“It’s Friday, at seven. Don’t feel obligated to bring anything but yourself.” He sent you a small smile, one that sent an unsettling feeling through your stomach.

You nodded, skeptical of the situation. Your mind was racing, an internal struggle overwhelming you.

By the time you had focused back in, there was a stream of students passing by you, already entering for the next lecture, Yuta no where to be found.

You sighed, hiking your backpack up on your back and heading towards the library.

It was hard to concentrate on the task ahead of you, especially when all you had was thoughts of what was to come this weekend.

“Excuse me.” You flinched, nodding apolegitcally at the girl who reached for a book that you were blocking.

You shook your head, trying to remember what you had come here for. After a half and hour of racking your brain you gave up, opting to just go to Mark’s.

“So I didn’t find any of your clothes, but you’ve got your toothbrush here.” You weren’t focused on what Mark was saying, walking into his apartment in a daze.

“Y/N?” You turned to face him, eyes slightly more alert.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

You sighed, flopping on to the couch and closed your eyes.

He sat next to you, and you felt his intense gaze over you.

You sat up suddenly, facing him. “What would you do if you had a friend who wasn’t really on good terms with a friend of a friend and you were invited to this friend’s kickback but it would be awkward to bring your other friend, but then it would be wrong if you didn’t tell this friend about the party, but it would also be bad to not go to the other friend’s party cause it’s his birthday?”

“What?”

You sighed, collecting your thoughts. “Jaehyun’s frat is having a party to celebrate his birthday and I was invited.”

“Okay... so?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s supposed to be a small thing, like just the frat and a few friends.”

“Right? What’s the problem?”

“Mark, what do I tell Yuna? I can’t tell her that I’m going to a party cause she’ll want to come, but that would be weird because it’s a small thing, and you know,,, Johnny. I’m sure she’ll end up making a scene.”

Mark sighed, looking away from you. “Just don’t tell her, or do, and just say she can’t go. I don’t really care.”

He stood up making his way to the kitchen. You groaned. Mark and Yuna haven’t quite been the same since the incident after the party. You haven’t found them willingly enter the same room, and even if they were forced to, they refused to interact. You were often caught in the middle of they’re snide remarks regarding each other.

“I don’t really want to go alone though. I’m not close enough with any of the frat guys to hang out there.” You griped, hands fiddling with your sleeves again.

“I thought you were cool with them.”

“Yeah, we’re friendly enough, but it’s still awkward.”

There was a poignant pause.

“Mark?” You whined, hoping that he would catch the hint.

“No, I’m done with parties.” He held up a hand, waving it in refusal.

“But it’s going to be a small one, it’s not even a real party. Please?”

“Are you even allowed to bring anyone?”

You shrugged, “He didn’t say, but it doesn’t matter, they won’t make you leave. And if they do then I’ll just say hi to Jaehyun and then leave.”

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Who even invited you?”

“Yuta.” You whispered out.

“Yuta? Why would he invite you?” He frowned, deep in his own thoughts.

“He said it would be nice for Jaehyun. Plus I doubt he’s going to do anything, especially because it’s Jae’s birthday. You know as much as a dick he is to girls, he probably cares about his frat brothers.” You found yourself defending Yuta.

He shot you a look, before shaking his head.

“You owe me.”

You grinned, pumping your fists in victory.

“Yes! I owe you a thousand times.” You stood up, “Where my sweats?”

“You mean my sweats.” He just shook his head and pointed towards his room, “They’re on my chair.”

You slid past his door, grabbing hold of the sweats that had been designated as yours.

After changing a picture on his desk caught your eye. It was a photo of the three of you at the beach, a memory made last year during spring break. You smiled to yourself, eyes tracing over the bright smiles. Your eyes shook as they reached Mark’s profile, too busy staring at Yuna to focus on the lense of the camera.

You winced, recognizing the way that he looked at Yuna, your heart broke for him. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the way he watched her, but seeing it so definite made you hurt for him.

“Y/N? You coming? I’m gonna start the movie if you don’t hurry your ass up!” Mark shouted from the living room, and you tore yourself away, skidding back to the couch.

“Stop doing that, you’re gonna crash into something.” He laughed at you.

“What’s the point of having hardwood floors then?” You climbed over the back of the couch after dumping your clothes next to your bag.

“Who said you got to choose?” You grumbled to yourself.

“Me, cause you owe me a thousand favors now.” You smiled cheesily at him, hoping to ease his irritation with the situation you dragged him into.

“Right. Do you want anything to drink, eat, possibly a foot massage that would appease you?”

He shoved you upon hearing your teasing tone. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You laughed, turning to focus on the screen ahead of you.

You opted for something a bit more casual than what you wore the last time you entered the frat house, definitely a bit more modest.

The mood was totally different the moment that you passed the door.

“Y/N! You came!” You smiled at the familiar face.

“Of course I came, it’s Jae’s birthday.”

Jungwoo peered at Mark who stood next to you, taking in the house as if it was his first time seeing it.

“Who’s this?” He frowned, racking his brain and trying to connect face to name.

“Oh you probably don’t remember.” You laughed at the memory, “This is Mark, he kind of took care of you at the party we met at.”

His eyes flashed at sudden recognition.

“Oh! Right, you were the one that stole Y/N away from me! I never did get that dance.” He grinned cheekily at Mark’s flustered expression.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on drinking that much this time.” He winked at you.

“That’s what you said last time.” A skinny boy with wide eyes interrupted him, throwing his arm around his shoulder.

The newcomer smiled at you, eyes turning into half moons. “I’m Taeyong, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“That’s cause you haven’t.” The familiar laid back tone answered before you a chance to.

“You were out of town the last time she was here.” Doyoung faced you, giving you a brief smile before turning back to Taeyong. “You know if you stuck around and chilled like everyone else then you would’ve known.”

You felt the tension between the two of them, glancing at Mark who had the same expression on his face.

“I’m here now, so what’s the problem?” The tone was less teasing than you expected, obviously things weren’t smooth between the two of them.

“It doesn’t matter, if you didn’t up and leav-”

“Her name’s Y/N.” Jungwoo interrupted, not caring that it wasn’t quite the right timing to introduce you.

The irritation washed off Taeyong’s face as he sent you a soft smile. “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He winked at your nervous expression. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I think I need a drink.” After sending Doyoung a glare he found Taeil close by.

“Sorry about that.” Doyoung muttered embarrassed, but he didn’t seem too genuine about his apology.

You smiled back at him, another awkward glance at Mark.

“Well drinks anyone?” Jungwoo asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You giggled at him.

He glared at you teasingly, “What are you trying to say?”

“Okay okay, here.” Taeil swept by shoving a handful of drinks in your direction.

“Well that was easy.” Jungwoo commented before moving to greet the next newcomer.

With everything happening so quickly you hadn’t noticed that Doyoung had also escaped.

“See. I told you it would be awkward, if you weren’t here I’d be standing alone in a corner.” You shoved Mark’s side, handing him your drink.

“What’s this?”

“I’m not drinking tonight. I don’t want to do anything stupid again, drink up.” He grinned at you.

“Well I guess this is payment enough.”

It was some time later that you found yourself laughing alongside Jaehyun when you realized that you hadn’t seen Mark it a while.

“I’m gonna go grab a water.” You excused yourself and set out to find him.

“You came.” You jumped at the sound of Yuta’s voice, uncomfortably close to you.

You spun around, facing him.

“You brought your little boyfriend though.” He was obviously drunk, more so than the last time. Or perhaps you were just more aware and now you could notice his tendencies.

“Right. Have you seen him?” You asked curtly, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“So he is your boyfriend?” The alcohol had definitely left him no control over his emotions as you frowned at the crestfallen look on his face.

“No, Yuta focus. Have you seen Mark?”

“I don’t like him.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to enjoy teasing him. “Why not?”

“He’s too touchy with you.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only your boyfriend should touch you like that. You guys are like hugging and stuff.” He pouted at you, a new version of Yuta you had never imagined.

“You touched me.” You mumbled out, watching his reaction.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

You stepped back, nervous for the first time. This version of Yuta made you uncomfortable. You were so used to the asshole that made snide comments and teased you. You knew it was just the alcohol talking but you felt restless upon seeing this new side of him.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your savior.

“Mark!” The boy spun around face bursting into a smile as he made his way over to you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

“Y/N where’ve you been? I lost you.” His smile faded as he noticed your company. “What are you doing here?”

His tone had turned cold and he pulled you tighter against him, an action not going unnoticed by Yuta.

“I’m having a conversation. And you’re not her boyfriend.” Mark glared at him, not appreciating the tone.

“Okay?”

You cut in between their little stare down, moving to face Mark, “Hey, I already wished Jae a happy birthday and stuff, it’s getting kinda late. We should get going now if you’re ready to go.”

You motioned towards the door in case he could understand you.

He nodded, not really paying attention, something that you were expecting.

“Alright, let’s go say bye to Jae and then I’ll drive us home, okay?” You talked slowly, hoping that he would understand more easily.

You grabbed Mark’s hand, pulling him towards the patio, the last place you had seen Jaehyun.

“Oh.” You stopped and turned to face the boy staring at two of your hands. “Bye Yuta.”

His eyes whipped up to find yours, a small smile taking over his features. He lifted his hands and waved slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

“What is wrong with him?” Mark muttered under his breath, face grimaced at the sight.

You sighed, resuming your journey to Jaehyun. “He’s drunk.”

You slammed the passenger door shut and slid into the driver’s seat, once more checking that all of Mark’s limbs were attached and in the car.

“That was fun.” He laughed, staring at nothing in particular.

You snorted at his reaction. “So I don’t owe you anything anymore?”

“I never said that.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” You asked, taking a quick glance at him before regathering your attention on the road.

“Yeah.”

You drove in silence for a while, and peeked over at him. He was so silent you were sure that he had fallen asleep. But his eyes were open, hooded, but definitely open. He was staring out the window, watching the buildings flash past him.

“Do you think Yuna wants to come?”

You were startled by his sudden question.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Mark.”

“I know. But I kind of miss her.” He sounded so upset, and you began to get angry at Yuna.

“I know Mark. Things will get better though. She’s just being stubborn.”

He sighed, fogging up the window for a few seconds before it dissipated under the cold.

“Okay.”

You hesitated to continue.

“Hey Mark?”

He didn’t respond,

Your eyes found his sleeping figure slumped in the corner of the seat.

You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding.

“How do you do it? Deal with her knowing that she’ll probably never love you back?” You asked no one in particular, listening to the silence that followed your harsh question.

You spent the last few miles of the ride with your mind involuntarily wandering back to Yuta. Now that you thought about it he had been acting weird since the day he invited you to the party.

It wasn’t that you missed the nagging or teasing that he constantly made you endure. But it made you uneasy, reminding you why he starting doing so in the first place.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the road as you pulled into Mark’s designated spot. The car rocked to a standstill.

“It’s because I love her that I can do it.”

You turned to face the seemingly asleep boy, mentally cursing yourself for letting him hear your thoughts.

“Yuna, don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh on him?”

She had just spent the last twenty minutes purposely avoiding Mark, stating that it would absolutely ruin her day to see him.

“He called me a slut, are you really taking his side?” Her tone had turned fierce as you expected.

“He didn’t call you a slut. Besides if it’s something you’re ashamed of, then don’t do it.” You muttered the last bit, trying to soften the tone.

She whipped her head at you. “What? So now you think I’m a slut too?”

“No, it’s just if you’re so upset with the way that people think of you, then why do you keep giving them reason to think that way?”

It was harsh, but you had finally given up on stubborn Yuna. It was time to finally hammer it into her head.

She was at a loss for words when you looked back at her. “I shouldn’t have to care about what other people think of me.”

You bit your lip, frustrated with the way she was thinking.

“Then why are you so mad at Mark? If you don’t care what other people think of you, why are you so mad?”

“Because it’s Mark. Of course I care what he thinks.”

You stared at her, mouth slightly open, confused with her statement. But it seemed like you weren’t the only one, her eyes widened, throwing her hand over her mouth.

“I mean, he shouldn’t have said that because he’s supposed to be someone I can count on to not think of me that way. I’m supposed to be able to trust that he knows me, and has my back no matter what, not that he’d stab me in the back like that.”

“He didn’t stab you in the back. And he does have your back, no matter what. You know he’s never said one bad thing about you during this time? He just keeps asking if you’re doing okay.”You paused, thinking about your next words, hesitating for a moment.

”You know I think it’s kind of embarrassing how much you’re bad mouthing him and avoiding him when all he does as make sure that you’re doing fine.” You glanced at her as she turned away from you, trying to hide the fact that she was furrowing her eyebrows.

“Don’t you think it’s been long enough? For both of you? Would it be that hard to forgive him?” You raised your eyebrows in hopes that you would no longer be the split messenger between the two.

There was a deep sigh from her side.

“I’ll talk to him later, just the two of us. I guess I owe him that much.” You smiled at her flushed face.

She grinned back, wrapping her arm in yours, “Now tell me about the party last weekend.”

You jolted your head to the side, wide eyed. “H-how did you...?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. It’s not like I was invited. Besides it would’ve been weird right, for me to show up.” You smiled at her, thankful that she wasn’t upset.

“To be honest, it was fun. I missed hanging out with them.” She elbowed you in the side.

“Any one in particular you like hanging out with?” Wiggling her eyebrows, she sent a suggestive look your way.

You blushed, understanding her intentions. “No. They’re all fun.”

“Right. Did Yuta bother you much? I hope Mark didn’t leave you alone to be bugged by him.” She scrunched her nose, evidence that she was still annoyed by him.

“No. He didn’t bother me, he was pretty drunk.” You frowned, “He actually said something though that bugged me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, he just kept talking about me having a boyfriend.” You paused, eyes shaking at what you were about to say. “He asked if he could be my boyfriend.”

Yuna made her scandalized face, teasing you as you cut in, attempting to save face for both yourself and Yuta.

“But he was really drunk, who knows if he even knew what he was saying.” You hurried out, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Didn’t you say he had been acting weird around you lately? Like not teasing you weird, but like he was actually kind of nice to you?” You nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he was actually the person who invited me to Jae’s party.”

“Really?” She asked, squinting in confusion. “That’s strange, I thought he would’ve been the last person to invite you.”

“Right?” You thought to yourself for a moment, “He wouldn’t do something would he?”

“No, I think he’s just gotten bored. Maybe he’s finally tired of teasing you.” You laughed at the thought.

“Sure, I’d die of happiness if that were true.” But there was a small part of you that you chose to ignore, that felt a little sad at the thought.

“Do you want one?” You raised your eyebrow at the scene in front of you.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Yuta gave you a small smile. “Taeil baked them, they’re to die for.”

You frowned at the muffin he was showing you, but eventually took it.

He nodded his head once, indicating for you to try it.

As you bit into the soft texture of the muffin your eyes widened.

“I know. I’m not usually one for muffins, but I’ll never pass on one from Master Moon.”

You giggled at the title.

“No really, that’s what he calls him self, but I’m not one to argue.” A genuine smile bloomed over his face, the first time you had seen it.

Unknowingly you returned the smile, something about it making you feel better already.

He rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile, replacing the previous, “I’m sorry we got off on a bad foot.” He let out a big sigh, “I kind of let things get out of hand.”

You felt yourself closing off again, but realized that his words were genuine.

“I’m not gonna lie, the stuff you said and things you did hurt me. This class was hell because of you, I even avoided seeing Jaehyun because of you.”

You let out a sigh, and a heavy silence followed. You glanced at the worried expression on Yuta’s face, and you recognized the guilt.

There had been some point where your anger towards Yuta had faded. Perhaps it was the fact that he stopped bothering you, perhaps it was his confession, or perhaps it was the way that he started to look at you. You believed that there was something more to Yuta, and you wanted to get to know that side.

“But if you continue to bring me amazing snacks I’ll have no choice but to forgive you.” You laughed nervously, tearing anxiously at the empty wrapper.

“Then I’ll just have to keep bugging Master Moon.” He grinned, a reflection of yourself.

You felt your face heat up, blushing at his blatant flirting.

“Um.... I know I was like really drunk the other night. I’m not going to pretend I don’t remember pieces, because I do. And I want you to know that even though I was drunk I really meant what I said.” He glanced at you from the side, not brave enough to confront you.

“What do you mean?” You tried not to think of the way that he basically confessed to you, and you chose to ignore it.

“Uh... Do you... not remember?” He scratched his head, ruffling his hair into a more messy look.

“I’m not sure, you were saying a lot of things.” Biting your lip, you focused on the wrapper in your hand.

“Oh... I- uh...I like you.” You whipped your head to face Yuta, who was now avoiding eye contact.

“What?” It came out as a whisper, barely audible to him. You heart began beating faster, and you were worried that he would be able to hear it because it was so loud.

“I like you Y/N. Look, I know I have a pretty shitty way of showing it, but I promise that I’ll make up for it.”

You hated to leave him hanging, but you had no words. You wanted to give him some sort of reassurance, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“Will you go out with me? Or at least one date to show you I’m not a total asshole.” He wasn’t great at hiding the fact that he was nervous, and you giggled at the sight.

“Yeah. I guess one date couldn’t hurt right?” You smiled at him, boldly reaching for his hand.

He wrapped his hand around yours, pulling you close to his chest. you could hear the beating of his heart through his shirt, making you smile at the thought that you were the cause of this.

“I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’m done making stupid decisions.”

231 notes · View notes