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peterprkrsbtch · 4 years ago

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sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something. “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.” You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter?

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #avengers #marvel #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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sleepyseguin · 4 years ago

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tyler seguin | i still see your face (nsfw)

summary: you and tyler break up. it’s harder than you thought it would be.

a/n: highly recommend listening to driver’s licence by olivia rodrigo to get the whole vibe. my spotify must think i have a problem by the constant repeat.

It’s not like you haven’t had a break up before. It’s just that this one feels different. Raw. A ragged edge that’s been torn. You drink too much beer and sleep too little. Your friends rally around you, of course they do, drag you to clubs with too many teenagers, tell you they never liked Tyler anyway. But the lie is thin, and in the dim bathroom of the bar one says, but why did you guys break up? What happened? You blink at her, mouth tasting of tequila. I don’t know.

-/-

Of course you know. You’re an adult. You made this decision together, sat on his couch. One of his throw pillows hugged to your chest so he couldn’t see the way your hands were shaking.

“If this is really what you want,” Tyler had said, and you could hear the scratch in his throat, the way his eyes shone too bright. Unshed tears.

You hadn’t been able to speak, tongue too thick, hot tears on your cheeks, fresh ones ready to replace as they dried sticky on your chin.

He was away from home too much. Your lives were going in different directions. You had opportunities to travel with work, and it’s not like he could come with you. It was best to do it now, a clean break, rather than struggle on, slowly tearing.

You’d cried all the way home from his house, struggling to keep the wheel straight. Your mother would have been horrified by the reckless driving. When you’d finally dared to look at your phone, that first night alone, Tyler’s text made you sob all over again. I love you. Always.

-/-

You talk to him, sometimes. You can’t help yourself. It’s like an itch that becomes unbearable. You have to scratch. Meaningless text message chains. How are you? Fine, you? I’m okay. I miss you. I miss you too. You know it’s not helpful, not the path towards healing that your married friends preach. But it makes it easier to sleep. Knowing he’s still out there. It’s a blissful kind of agony when he texts you unprompted, in the middle of the night, sometimes the middle of the afternoon. I think of you all the time or I dreamt about you or I thought I saw you at the game. Your own misery overwhelms. Winter sets in. You struggle through grey days, take the long way home to drive past his street. Pray you don’t see another car next to his.

-/-

You cry on the phone to your mother, great big sobs like a child does when they’ve lost their favourite toy. She tells you she’ll fly out.

“No, it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can do this.”

“You can,” she assures, but the surety seeps away as soon as you hang up. A bottle of wine in front of the television. Take out. You’re either starving or not hungry at all now. You only watch ten minutes of an episode before you’re switching to the NHL channel. It’s too hard to forget the schedule. It’s like a reminder in your brain when you wake up in the morning, he’s playing today. You used to nap together, in the afternoons before games. The weak sunlight, the dancing dust mites. A Friend’s episode turned low. Tyler would reach for you in his sleep, nuzzle into your neck. Like he could never get close enough. Like he knew you would leave one day.

-/-

A mutual friends birthday. You’d tried to make excuses, but even you didn’t believe them.

“It’s worse to avoid him,” your friend says, “It will only make it harder later.”

So in an effort to do the Right Thing, to be a Big Girl, and Move On, you find yourself drinking too strong punch, pieces of apple and orange floating in a plastic cup, leaning into a guy you just met and laughing too loud.

And it is fun. For awhile. A mix of old friends and new. Loud music. And for most of the night, he’s not there. He’s so late you think he’s not coming. And you pretend you’re crying because you’re relieved and not because you’re disappointed. You’ve been smart enough to take yourself to the bathroom for the small meltdown, bent over the counter and taking deep breaths. You’re too old to be getting this smashed at a house party. It’s hard to focus on yourself in the mirror, bending light. It’s a good thing he’s not coming, you tell yourself, and wish you could believe it.

You’re headed to the kitchen, the sink full of ice and hiding your drinks. Tyler is there. Tyler is there, standing in the hallway, talking to the host. His big hand makes the beer he’s holding look like a kid’s toy. He’s laughing, crinkly eyes, the sound reaching you. Slapping the guy on the shoulder, enjoying the joke. He’s so happy. How can he be so happy?

Dark eyes meet yours, the fall of his mouth from the grin. He goes to say something, call out maybe, but you’re turning away already, pushing back into the lounge room, the backdoor. Fresh air. Cold crisp of a Texan winter. The weather reporters are saying it might snow this year. He finds you. Of course he does. In the back-garden, looking up at the moon, counting stars. Your name in a familiar voice. The way he says it makes your heart hurt. You can barely look at him, the grass moving under your feet as you turn to face him. Curls peeking out from under a beanie. Black hoodie, dark jeans. You recognise the hoodie. You used to wear it to bed sometimes.

“Hi,” you say, trying to be causal, wanting desperately to be, but at the same time you’re reaching out, clinging onto his arm. Don’t ever let go again.

Tyler smiles, sad and small, “It’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, head back, gazing up at him. The moon has nothing on Tyler. Come back to me, you want to say, but this is your fault. You did this. You made this happen.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, and you think yes, yes, just ask me, I’ll come back I promise, “I think it’s better if we don’t talk anymore. It’s too hard.”

“Oh,” you say. It suddenly seems so much colder out here. “Okay.”

You watch him walk away, back into the house, the light of the party. And if you cry in the Uber on the way home, no one else has to know.

-/-

The first time you sleep together, afterwards, you could almost convince yourself it’s an accident. Not talking hadn’t lasted long. A loss, a commiserating text, a wish to just go back to the way things were. We can, you’d said, just for one night.

It’s almost awkward, the way he’s a stranger around you again. He looks tired, sore, sweatpants and a hoodie. Pink cheeks from the cold outside. His hair is still damp from the shower, curling around his ears. You want to stay here, like this, forever, letting him sit you down in the bed, holding your face in his big hands to kiss you from where he stands between your knees. The way Tyler says your name, wanting, needy. The press of his body on yours. You missed this. You missed this so much. It would never be the same with anyone else. The way he touches you, so carefully, so purposefully. He knows just how you like it, just how you work together.

It’s a habit, for you to be on top after a game, not worth making him expend any more energy. But he fights you for it, doesn’t let you settle, rolls you over onto your back again. You protest, mildly.

“It’ll make you sore,” you say, can’t stop touching him, his hair, his face, his back, his chest. His skin is warm from the hoodie.

“Don’t care,” Tyler says, a crooked smile, nudging his nose against yours, “I want it like this, want to see you properly.”

Your heart is broken and remade simultaneously. It’s all you can do not to pull the doona over both of you and hide forever, keep him here like a prisoner. Cherish him for an age. His mother would never forgive you.

Your body aches for him, as he nudges open your legs, kisses your mouth, your neck, your breasts. You should take your time, enjoy it, the last time, but you can’t help but surge towards the end.

“Want you inside me,” you whisper, fingers on his hips, angling him.

“Yeah,” Tyler rasps, aligning himself, “Fuck. Yeah, please.”

The relief of him sinking home, the opening of your body to him. It’s too easy, almost, the rhythm he settles into. Your legs tight around his waist, groaning when he pulls one up over his shoulder, finds a new angle. A big hand palming at your breast, the way he says your name, thick and low. You come a few moments before him, get off on the way he watches you, holds you, fingers caressing just above where he slides in and out of you. It takes everything not to cry, the final release, the drop of endorphins.

Tyler shakes when he comes, a whole body shudder as he holds himself deep, panting against your ear. You stare at the ceiling and blink away tears. How could you ever have walked away from this? Nothing feels right unless he’s here.

Later, he gets up to leave, but you reach out before he can get out of bed.

“Please stay,” you whisper, pathetic. Tyler’s a shadow in the dark, but he’s warm when he slides back under the covers, gathers you up against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat as you fall asleep.

-/-

It takes you another week to swallow your pride. You call your mother, again, cry on the phone, again.

“I think I was wrong, I think I made a huge mistake.”

“If he is who you say he is,” she counsels, “He’ll forgive you.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

You’re convinced that someone will be in your parking spot the whole drive to his house. A new car. A girl’s car. You can’t breathe along his whole tree lined street, until you see the empty spot. Like it’s waiting for you. Like it has been this whole time.

You almost slump into him when he opens the door, the relief, the grief. He’s surprised to see you. Sleepy. Got in late last night from a Roadie. The dogs are everywhere at once, bumping you into each other as they try to get a cuddle. Tyler stumbles into you, forced by Marshall’s heavy tail. Your hand on his ribcage, steadying. Are you really going to do this? On his front step? Behind him, you can see your red coat on the coat hook. So that’s where it was. You’ve been looking for it in the cold. And he’s kept it, this whole time. Waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Tyler shakes his head, confused, furrowed brow, “What’s going on?”

“I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake. I got scared, and I panicked. The truth is. I love you. And I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. And it’s scary. I’m so scared. But I shouldn’t have taken it on you like this. It was wrong. And if you can’t. If you can’t forgive me I understand. But. I really, really want you, too.”

He says your name, quietly, prayer like. Your hand is still on his chest.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and the dogs are still all around you, the front door is wide open. Tyler’s socked feet on the porch.

“I’m so sure.”

And he’s laughing. He’s laughing. And he’s kissing you. Warm and fresh and familiar. And then you’re laughing and then you’re crying and Tyler is just holding, holding, holding you.

And along the street, a warm breeze blows through the trees. The promise of summer.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #nhl imagine #tyler seguin smut #hockey smut #imagine

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princessphilly · 4 years ago

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Hockey Fic Exchange: Second Chance in Chicago

This is for the @hockeynetwork winter gift exchange. I was matched with my friend, @texanstarslove and it was relatively easy to give her what she wanted.

Title: Second Chance in Chicago

Player: Jonathan Toews

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 6410 words

March 2007

“Wouldja look at that? There’s the future NHL star, looking like the dork he is.”

Lizzie stuck out her tongue as Rachel announced the presence of the asshole himself, Jonathan Toews. They were all sophomores at UND but he had gotten drafted third overall by the Chicago Blackhawks last year. Hockey ruled UND so the team already had a high profile. But this year’s team looked like it would do some damage in the tournament so all eyes were really on them.

Tonight, Lizzie and her friends had decided to go to a frat party at the Beta house. It was a cold early March Thursday night but she had been in the mood to party. Unfortunately, the party had been invaded by the hockey team.

Jonathan grinned, his deep brown eyes sparkling like he had already pregamed. “Hey ladies,” he greeted before grabbing Lizzie and giving her a hug.

“Ew!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away. He definitely had pregamed, he smelled like good old Vladimir vodka. He was going to have a fucking hangover tomorrow.

Jonathan pouted. “I thought we were friends, Lizzie,” he exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around Lizzie again

“When did you think that?”

Rachel and Bethany snickered. It was a bit of a running joke, this animosity between Lizzie and Tazer. No one quite knew how it really started except it had been a freshman year hook up that ended bad. At least, that was the rumor. Ever since, Lizzie couldn’t stand Jonathan and Jonathan did every thing possible to needle her.

Lizzie flipped her hair over her shoulder before elbowing Jonathan in the ribs. Giving him an angelic smile, she ordered, “Don’t touch me.”

Being the drunken asshole he was at the moment, Jonathan leaned down and murmured in her ear, “You didn’t say that last weekend.”

“Ugh!”

Lizzie pushed Jonathan away before stomping towards the keg. Jonathan shrugged as TJ and some of the other hockey players came in. She was able to avoid him for the rest of the night and even flirted with a couple of junior guys she hadn’t met. Of course, as soon as she went to get a breather from the hot party, Jonathan was already outside.

Shivering, Lizzie huddled close to the door, planning to ignore Toews. There had been a snowstorm the other day and there was a good ten inches of snow on the ground.

“Supposed to snow again tomorrow.”

Lizzie let out a loud sigh. Of course, he couldn’t respect her silent plea to be left alone. “This is North Dakota. It’s always snowing.”

Turning to her left, Lizzie looked at Jonathan. For once, he didn’t have his cocky, self-assured, ‘I’m the one in complete charge’ look on his face. He looked slightly pensive and a bit unsure. “Here, have my hoodie.”

“I don’t-,” Lizzie started to say but she relented as Jonathan put his hoodie over her head, pulling it down. She was cold as fuck, shivering in just a short-sleeved shirt and her jeans. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

They stood there for several moments, breath turning into puffs of icicles before Jonathan finally broke the ice. “Ridley, really?”

“Oh, you know him?” Lizzie tensed, UND wasn’t as big as other schools but she could at least have found someone that Jonathan didn’t already know. But then, hockey ruled here and he knew more people than her so yeah, just her fucking luck.

“He’s cool.” Jonathan shrugged, suddenly feeling nervous as fuck. It really wasn’t his area to talk, he didn’t really want to be a cock-block, but fuck it. “He’s not an asshole or anything. But we both know that’s not who you really want.”

“Oh really? Who told you what I really want?”

He hadn’t really planned to do it now; Jonathan had planned to go for it next month. But he already had told coach and his teammates that he was going pro after this season, so he might as well do it. “We have unfinished business, Elizabeth.”

Lizzie froze at Jonathan’s use of her full name. He was the only one here at UND who ever used her full name. It brought back memories, those first weeks of spring semester of freshman year. Memories of doing things that would have had Momma reaching for her rosary and Papa yanking her out of UND to go into a convent. She bit out, “No, we don’t.”

“So, that’s why you called me last Saturday, asking me to come over after the game?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I was drunk,” she very primly replied, staring at her nails. She thought to herself, ‘I need a manicure.’

“Then last weekend, you came over and you definitely weren’t drunk.”

Lizzie shrugged, pretending she didn’t hear what Jonathan said. She didn’t want to admit the truth; Jonathan made her nervous. She was 19 and every time she was with him, she felt like this could be something that could be forever. But Lizzie had plans; she was planning to go east for law school, get out of North Dakota forever. This wasn’t the time to even think of settling down with anyone, especially not with Jonathan since he was going pro. Even though, her traitorous pussy reminded her, Jonathan made her cum better than anyone else and wasn’t scared to choke, bite, or spank her unlike other guys.

Jonathan growled, of course Lizzie would be acting obtuse. He wasn’t looking to settle down or anything serious, he was just about to turn 19 and about to go to Chicago in five and a half months to start his pro career. Jonathan did really like Lizzie a lot and wouldn’t be against putting a label on what was going on. Then, Lizzie got cold feet last year and had been stringing him along for over a year. It would be nice if Lizzie actually admitted that they had something going instead of being nasty to his face but fucking with him late at night.

“Okay, since you don’t want to face reality, I’m just going to say it. It’s not fair that you like to treat me like shit in public but you want me to fuck you when no one is looking.”

Lizzie opened her mouth before closing it. From the tone of voice that Jonathan had used, it sounded harsh. Like she was using him like a whore. But Jonathan wasn’t done.

“Don’t worry about my hoodie, I’ll get it before I leave.”

Jonathan turned around and went back inside of the party. Lizzie stayed outside for several more minutes, pensive. Then she harrumphed and rejoined the party, resolute that she was going to ignore Jonathan once she gave him his hoodie back.

Twelve years later

Lizzie brushed her ginger hair over her shoulder. It was weird to be ginger for the first time since she was fifteen. The past years, she had been a very faithful blonde but it was time to do something very different.

“Not bad for a rancher’s daughter.”

Lizzie twirled in her full-length mirror, admiring the way the navy-blue dress fit her body, accessorized with her diamond hoop earrings, tennis bracelet, class ring, and the brand-new patent leather heels she had managed to score on clearance at Neiman Marcus. Very much the uniform of an intellectual property litigator who had just made partner, not the yee-haw who had went to UND. But right now, as she thought about tonight, Lizzie felt like the yee-haw she tried to suppress.

Tonight, there was a fundraising cocktail hour for her firm, Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper. This would be the first one that Lizzie attended since she transferred to the Chicago office from Atlanta. She was good at gladhanding and charming people, attending Penn Law had sucked the yee-haw from Lizzie’s accent. Now, she was Elizabeth Romanelli, ready to make connections while raising funds for the Children’s Miracle Network.

Only fly in the ointment was that this fundraiser was being held at the United Center. Not only that, it was rumored that the firm was able to get a couple of players for the Blackhawks to appear. Bradley, Lewis, and Cooper did some work for the Blackhawks, mainly with local TV contracts and sponsorships. Lizzie took in a deep fortifying breath. “It has been years,’ she told herself. “There’s no need to be nervous seeing Jon again.”

She turned around and grabbed her coat. It was mid fall but the temperature dropped enough at night that Lizzie wanted to wear her coat just in case. Before she left, she looked at her left ring finger. Taking a deep breath, she slid her old wedding ring off her finger. It was a new start, time to act like it.

The fundraiser went pretty well, in Lizzie’s eyes. It was her first firm social event in Chicago so most of it was spent shaking hands, exchanging business cards, and talking some shop. There were a couple of Blackhawks players there, none of that Lizzie recognized. She admitted several times while in conversation, that she was more of a college hockey than pro hockey fan.

Then, the one person she was hoping wouldn’t show up, showed up. Lizzie worked hard not to check Jonathan out but he had the kind of presence that commanded attention. His hair was cut short and the once lanky frame had filled out completely. Lizzie smirked when she saw one of her fellow attendees lick her lips but she couldn’t blame her. Jonathan looked delicious in a black suit with a pristine white shirt, no tie. He looked like casual, dominant elegance in a hockey player package as he made his rounds the room.

“You’re lucky that your department doesn’t work with the Blackhawks on anything,” said the woman who licked her lips. Lizzie looked down and looked at her name tag, it said ‘Elise’.

“Oh why?”

Lizzie took a sip of her pinot grigio, waiting for a reply. Elise didn’t disappoint as she whispered, “He’s single and my law school loans say he would be perfect for them.”

She couldn’t resist laughing at that statement; Lizzie totally understood where Elise was coming from. But as soon as her laughter faded, there was Jonathan Toews, right in front of them. Elise looked up at him, obviously starstruck. Lizzie put her best courtroom face as she stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Elizabeth Romanelli. You are?”

Jonathan blinked when Lizzie introduced herself as Elizabeth Romanelli. She was Lizzie MacArthur in the flesh, all these years later. Grasping her hand, Jonathan said, “Jonathan Toews, but you know who I am.”

Jonathan kept his best PR smile on his face as he processed his thoughts. This was Lizzie, the only one who got away. She was a redhead now, not a blonde, but those green eyes were still the same. Deep green eyes that always brimmed with an intelligence that had made Jon feel like he was an idiot when they first met at UND.

“Oh, how do you two know each other?”

Lizzie managed to keep her expression completely neutral while Jon reddened a bit. He dropped her hand as he said, “We went to college together.”

“Where was that,” Elise innocently asked and Lizzie wasn’t sure if she was truly curious or if she was being a bit catty.

“I went to University of North Dakota with Mr. Toews for undergrad,” Lizzie said. “Then I did Penn Law.”

Elise replied, “Oh. I remember reading that once.”

Lizzie refused to roll her eyes as Jon made small talk about the hockey season with Elise. Spotting a waiter, Elise raised her hand for another glass of wine. Tonight, was looking like it was about to be long. Before she could make her escape, Elise exclaimed, “Oh, there’s Mr. Schmidt, I need to talk to him! It was so nice to meet you and talk to you, Mr. Toews, Ms. Romanelli.”

Lizzie sighed as she scampered away, leaving her alone with Jonathan.

“Long time, no see,” Jonathan said, taking a sip of his water. Tomorrow was a game night and while he enjoyed drinking, he had no interest in doing anything that would keep him out of peak performance. But looking at Lizzie, he wished he had something stronger. The years had done her good; she looked curvier, stronger, hotter. He felt his pants tighten and Jonathan thought of his smelly hockey gear to deflate his hard on.

Lizzie stroked the curve of her new wine glass before replying, “I know. Wasn’t necessarily planned.”

“Romanelli?”

“I was married,” Lizzie’s smile tightened.

Jonathan quickly replied, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask anything that would make you feel- “

“It’s okay, let’s not go there, okay. Before you ask, I’m a widow.” Lizzie looked down at her wine. It had been long enough that she knew she wouldn’t break down but it was awkward to talk about it with her first college hookup/almost boyfriend. After all these years, Jonathan still had an affect on her. She felt a bit lightheaded but her once dormant libido had flared up as soon as they shook hands. It was as if her body had decided that someone worthy was nearby and it was time.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan repeated, his voice low as he ran his fingers through his short hair. It was a bit overwhelming seeing Lizzie again but he was already damn sure that he needed to see her again. As they exchanged pleasantries, Jon moved on to another group at the fundraiser. But every now and then, he made sure to catch her in the crowd.

At the end of the night, he was finally able to get Lizzie alone, again. “Now that you’re in Chicago, why don’t we go out? As old friends?”

Lizzie laughed as she waited for her coat. “We weren’t old friends and you know it.”

“But who said that we can’t be at least friends now?”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a big smile while she scoffed, “I can tell by the way you’ve been looking at me all night that you aren’t interested in being just friends.”

“How was I looking at you?”

Jonathan leaned into Lizzie as he noticed that Seabs was nearby. While he loved Seabs as a brother, he didn’t want him to have any idea of what he was planning, yet.

Lizzie batted her lashes at Jonathan before replying, “Like you never seen a woman before. I have to keep the conversation business casual but we both know what I’d really like to say.”

“Then, you should let me have your phone number.”

“Smooth, Toews,” Lizzie commented. “Very smooth.”

“I try.”

Jonathan couldn’t help himself; as Lizzie received her coat from the coat check, he helped her put it on.

“Wow, I don’t know if you’re actually a gentleman now or if you’re trying to get points,” Lizzie quipped.

Jonathan gave her an aw-shucks grin and a shrug. Despite her better judgment, Lizzie figured that it couldn’t hurt. She didn’t really know anyone yet in Chicago and it would be nice to talk to someone who she at least knew from college. But she didn’t want to openly give it to Jonathan so she took the moment to turn and grab paper and a pen from a table. Writing her number and snap down, she slid it into Jonathan’s pocket.

“There, now you can never say I never gave you anything.”

Lizzie turned and sauntered away. Jonathan fished through his pockets and grabbed the paper, grinning and laughing to himself.

Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit. He knew how to attempt to get a woman’s attention. The flowers were a nice touch; not too ostentatious and he was smart enough not to attach his name to them. But Lizzie knew exactly who they were from because there were exactly nineteen pink and nineteen white roses in Monday’s bouquet. Yesterday’s bouquet was a set of nineteen purple flowers that after she looked them up, Lizzie found out that they were purple columbine. Today’s bouquet involved nineteen white camelias and nineteen red chrysanthemums.

“This guy must really like you.”

Lizzie turned around to see Peter, her paralegal. He was pointing at the flowers, a pensive look on his face.

“Really? He just wants my attention.” Lizzie dismissively waved towards the flowers but inwardly, she was loving it.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Okay, whatever you say. Anyway, I have five messages from the managing partners.”

“I already know what they want and I already reviewed the files and sent them to Kristin, Jacques, and Malik. They are working on the briefs for the arbitration and they should all be done by the end of the work day. I will prep my own opening argument myself for the hearing when we are done talking. You can quote everything I just said in your email,” Lizzie stated with a smile on her face. This was her first arbitration hearing at the Chicago office with her new associates working under her. But she knew it would go well.

“But the flowers. I’d look them up, Ms. Romanelli. He’s sending you a message with each bouquet. Especially that first one with those kind of pink roses, maiden blush roses? Oh, he’s definitely telling you something.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Lizzie brushed Peter off, her mind already back on work. However, she messaged Jon later, I like jasmine, lily of the valley, the most.

The next day, there was a bouquet with yellow jasmine, lily of the valley, and red pink flowers, the number adding to 19 and a note, looking forward to seeing you tonight.

Lizzie was still a mystery and Jonathan was desperate to figure her out. This was their sixth date and every time he felt like he was getting closer to her, Lizzie pulled back. Jon understood but at the same time, he was getting annoyed. He was also horny as fuck and trying very hard not to let his cock dictate his actions.

Tonight, Lizzie wore a little black dress with strappy heels to dinner and all Jonathan could think of was having Lizzie wear those heels while he fucked her hard and fast. It took all his willpower to keep the conversation light during dinner as his traitorous brain filled with all kinds of dirty images. Now, they were having post dinner drinks at a place Kaner had suggested. It was very intimate, the kind of place for seduction. Unfortunately, Jonathan thought, there would probably be no seduction tonight as he stood on the wall with Lizzie.

“I intentionally wore these for you.”

Lizzie fluttered her eyelashes at Jon’s dumbfounded expression. She wasn’t dumb; she knew exactly the kind of affect she had on men. Lizzie had to give Jonathan credit; he was doing a good job of not being a stupid hornball.

“I love them,” Jonathan drawled before taking a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. He told himself to be patient, as they continued to talk but after another half-hour talking about football, Jon finally broached the subject. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Are you,” Lizzie countered. She went out on a couple of dates with a couple of different guys when the Blackhawks were out of town because, in her mind, she was still a free agent. Doing that actually made Lizzie feel more comfortable with going out with Jonathan. Not that the other dates were bad but Lizzie had to admit to herself that there was still something more with Jonathan.

“No,” Jonathan admitted. His DMs were full on all social media so he could go out with anyone he wanted if he truly felt like it. But right now, he really was just interested in Lizzie.

“That’s nice.”

Lizzie twirled the straw in her cocktail. Jonathan thought about what to say but ended up blurting out, “I still think about some of the things we did.”

“Woooooooow.”

Blushing, Lizzie bit her lip. Some of those memories had come back since she had seen Jonathan again. Some of those things that had seemed extra sinful at eighteen and nineteen were mainstream these days. Plus, Greg had tried but he didn’t have that same aura that teenage Jonathan had. Adult Jonathan had that dominant aura in spades and it was tempting.

Lizzie added, “And?”

Jonathan moved closer to Lizzie, his big body bracketing hers, his monotone voice even deeper, “You remember when I tied you up the first time?”

“That was…. interesting,“ Lizzie replied. She felt flushed, that memory now in her brain. They had been fumbling around and Jonathan had tied her up before making her beg and scream his name. But the knot had got stuck and after he cut her out, Lizzie had chafed skin on both of her wrists. “It was an interesting experiment.”

Jonathan licked his lips. He noticed that Lizzie was flushed, her body leaning towards his. It was almost heady, the tension, he could taste it. So, he decided to press into the attack.

“We’ve both grown up now. I mean, I know what I love to do in the bedroom and I’m not a teen boy fumbling around.”

Lizzie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Jonathan’s pronouncement. Steeling her face so that she looked impassive, inwardly she was freaking out a bit. Jonathan had been pretty good fuck in college, better than the rest of her boyfriends before she married Greg. But this Jonathan, three times Stanley Cup winner and hockey superstar Jonathan, he seemed lethal.

And he knew it as he gave Lizzie a little smirk and a wink.

“Don’t worry Lizzie, no one is going to judge you now if you like a little pain. I definitely won’t. You know I liked giving it to you when we were experimenting.”

Exasperated, Lizzie exclaimed, “You’re still so arrogant! I seriously doubt you’d have a chance to fuck me again.”

Jonathan moved closer and Lizzie backed up, backing into the wall. Jonathan got close enough that Lizzie could smell his expensive cologne but far enough that she could easily move away if she wanted to.

“I don’t know why you’re still lying to yourself all these years later,” Jonathan murmured, his dark brown eyes looking black. “But I’m patient, I can still wait. You still want me and I’ve always wanted you.”

Lizzie bit her lip and Jonathan resisted the urge to groan. He had thought that he had forgotten her but just meeting her again two months ago had brought back those old feelings. Now, he was getting tired of playing cat and mouse but from what he had learned from TJ and Ridley, Jonathan was trying to be careful and tactical with his advances. He at least managed to get her to go out with him. His cock could wait.

Of course, after telling himself that, images from a decade ago filled his head. Ignoring them, Jonathan instead taunted, “Nothing to say? I never thought lawyers could be rendered speechless.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie reached out and touched Jonathan’s sweater. It was super soft and felt like it was made from the finest cashmere. She finally replied, voice low and soft, “Why am I so attracted to you? This shouldn’t really be happening.”

“Fate.”

It was a very simple reply as Jonathan grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed her hand, just a brief touch of closed lips to skin. But it felt like electricity coursed through both of them. Jonathan recovered first before giving Lizzie a devilish smile. “Night, night Elizabeth.”

***

“He’s way too smooth.”

Lizzie took in a deep breath as she watched the first snowfall of the year through her office window. Rachel’s laughter at her complaint registered super loud over her ear pod.

Rachel commented, “Of course he is, he’s had over a decade of practice. I can’t believe he’s still interested; I think Jon has dated models and he could date anyone. You’re lucky as hell, Lizzie.”

Lizzie pouted as she moved away from the window. “I don’t know if I want to be lucky.”

“Well, I remember all of the sneaking around you’d did when we were in college. You had no problems fucking him in private.”

“RACHEL!! Oh, my Gawd, you knew that?!?”

Lizzie put her hand on her forehead, mortified. She thought she had been cautious.

Rachel chuckled before continuing, “No one else figured it out. But it was obvious that sparks were flying. And then Jon goes pro and you end up dating around until you met Greg. But you never were as happy as you were freshman spring.”

Lizzie sighed, feeling a headache beginning to start. “Greg, you know I loved Greg.”

“I know honey, if you hadn’t, I would have seriously considered stopping the wedding,” Rachel consoled. “And he did help you escape the ranch and your parents’ plans.”

“I’ve been a widow for 3 years and this is the first time I’ve been attracted to a man,” Lizzie blurted out. Her cheeks reddened as she realized her admission.

There was an extended pause before Rachel finally replied. “Then you should go for it. Greg wouldn’t want you to give up on sex because he’s gone.”

Lizzie flipped through the messages on her work phone as she pondered Rachel’s words.

“I gotta go, Alyssa is about done with school and the baby should be up any minute. Stop thinking and just fuck him. Just remember to put color corrector and concealer over any marks Jonny leaves on you.”

Lizzie exclaimed, “Rachel,” but she had already hung up. Checking her personal phone for messages, Lizzie grinned when she saw she had a snap from Jon. Opening the snap, she saw a photo of Jon signing jerseys and picks with a note of can’t wait to give you one.

Lizzie responded; too bad I’ll be too busy to get one for the next couple of weeks

Lizzie put her phone down, ready to focus on her work before getting a new message from Jon. I told u I can be patient.

Lizzie looked down at her list of pros and cons. All the pros were reasons why she should fuck Jonathan: get rid of all the unresolved tension from college, he’s an already proven great fuck, probably the best guy to be her first fuck since Greg passed away. The cons were that he was Jonathan Toews, he was famous, and he did have the ability to be an asshole. Her skeptical side told Lizzie that she probably couldn’t keep it casual but the other side was like, was that a bad thing?

Shaking her head, Lizzie pulled on a pair of jeans before putting on a sweater. The Blackhawks were back in town and last night, she went to the game courtesy of Jonathan. Lizzie had taken Elise with her and they enjoyed the Blackhawks winning against the Flames. It was actually fun as Lizzie explained some of the finer points of hockey, such as power plays, penalty kills, offsides, and the fact that all refs in all sports were absolutely awful. Tonight, she actually told Jon she would come over after they saw a movie.

Lizzie was curious about where Jonathan lived. She knew it was in an area called Lincoln Park; she lived in the outskirts of the North Side. Her student loans from law school demanded payment so Lizzie moved in the nicest area she could afford, in a gentrifying neighborhood. “Get a taste of how the rich live tonight,” Lizzie said to herself. However, she did put on a matching pair of underwear just in case she decided to do more.

Jonathan looked at Lizzie as the car pulled up to his place. He had been on his best behavior tonight; no sly comments, etc. after last time. But Lizzie had been cuddly during the movie and now, she… he couldn’t read her actions.

Jon entered his code and led Lizzie inside. “Very nice,” Lizzie commented as they walked through the first floor of his place.

“Oh wow, you have my favorite flowers,” Lizzie exclaimed as they walked into his kitchen. There was a vase with Spanish Jasmine flowers.

Jonathan shrugged even though he was inwardly pleased. He had ordered them this afternoon, a rush order when Lizzie said she would come over. Now she was here and he felt at a loss. His cock said to seduce her, his brain said to wait for her cues and see if she was actually interested. Jonathan grabbed two cups and got himself and Lizzie a glass of water before guiding her back into the living room.

“More movies,” Lizzie teased as she made herself comfortable on his leather couch.

Jonathan shook his head no, suddenly nervous as he cut on the TV. He didn’t want to fuck it up.

Lizzie smirked as she watched indecision on Jonathan’s face. Tonight, had been their first date since that conversation and it was obvious that Jonathan was still very interested but didn’t want to do anything that seemed pushy. Lizzie thought at first it was because they were out in public but she realized that if she wanted to actually go there again, she would have to bring it up.

“What are you thinking about, Jon,” Lizzie asked, intentionally shortening his name.

Jonathan put his arms on the back of the couch and mentally said fuck it. “Do you want to good answer or the dirty answer?”

“Dirty answer?”

Lizzie grinned as Jonathan gulped then groaned.

“I keep looking at your ass in those jeans and I want to grab it so bad,” Jonathan admitted. Lizzie looked at his big hands and she decided that tonight was the night.

“You can grab it, if you want?”

“Huh, what?”

Jonathan looked so dumbfounded that Lizzie giggled. “I said you can grab it. That’s another way of saying, you can touch me.”

“Are you sure,” Jonathan asked, locking eyes with Lizzie.

Lizzie rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand. “I came here with the full intent of getting fucked. But if you aren’t interested, that’s okay and we can hang out before I go home.”

“Oh, do you really want me to fuck you?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow as Lizzie flung her hair behind her shoulder. “I want you to kiss me, eat my pussy, maybe I’ll suck your cock, and then fuck me, if you want to get precise.”

“Goddamn,” Jonathan breathed. “Fuck, then why don’t you sit in my lap?”

Lizzie climbed into his lap before locking eyes with Jonathan again. His deep brown eyes looked nearly black and he had stubble all around his jaw. She traced his jaw with her fingers before running her fingers through his hair. His voice a deeper monotone, Jonathan murmured, “I’m not going to bite, unless you want me to do that.”

Instead of replying, Lizzie brushed her lips over Jonathan’s, once, then twice. Then she leaned down and nipped his lip. “I like biting,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him again. Jonathan’s arms came around her waist, keeping Lizzie in place as he began to take over the lazy kiss. Need stretched through their kisses, tongues interacting as over a decade apart melted away. Then Jonathan pulled away. Lizzie reached to pull her sweater off but Jonathan stopped her.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, I don’t want to fuck you for the first time in forever on a couch, at least not this time.”

Lizzie laughed as Jonathan picked her up and nearly ran to his bedroom. She didn’t even get a chance to look around and admire before he was on her. Jonathan’s hands were all over her body as he desperately kissed her. Before Lizzie realized it, her sweater and bra were off and so was Jonathan’s hoodie and t-shirt. She could feel his rock-hard abs against her body as Jonathan rolled so that Lizzie was on top.

“Your tits are still fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” Lizzie beamed as Jonathan gently kneaded them in his hands.

He murmured, “They are still so sensitive,” as her nipples hardened quickly in his fingers, watching Lizzie’s changes in expression. “So, you’ll tell me right away if I do something you don’t like?”

“Like what,” Lizzie asked.

Jonathan lightly grabbed her throat, something they had never done before but something he had learned that he liked to do. “Like that.”

“Mmmm, this is good,” Lizzie replied. Choking was one of the kinks she had explored with Greg and that she missed.

“Fuck, you got dirtier,” Jonathan stated before rolling Lizzie under him again.

“Why don’t you stop talking and undress me some more,” Lizzie ordered.

Jonathan laughed before idly replying, “Normally, I wouldn’t let you tell me what to do but we haven’t even negotiated that yet. And we aren’t, not tonight.”

Lizzie’s giggled as she shimmied out of her jeans. But those giggles were replaced with moans when Jonathan’s fingers brushed her upper and inner thighs before stroking her pussy through her panties. “So wet for me.”

He had planned to go slow but Jonathan was pretty sure that wasn’t happening, at least not for this first round. He needed to be deep inside of Lizzie, back where he belonged. Jonathan stood up and took off his own jeans and boxers, revealing his very hard cock. Lizzie reached up and ran a hand over his cock before pumping it with both hands.

“I’m not going to last that long,” Jonathan warned as Lizzie began to jerk him off. “I want to cum deep inside of your pussy, Elizabeth.”

“Oh my God,” Lizzie breathed. There was something in the way that Jonathan said her full name, it made her pussy drip even more.

Jonathan reached into his night stand and grabbed a condom. “Be a good girl and put this on me.”

Lizzie took the condom from Jonathan’s hands and opened it. Then she guided it over his cock with a wicked grin on her face. Leaning back on her elbows, Lizzie smirked at Jonathan before sucking her lip into her mouth. “Fuck me, Jonathan.”

Jonathan growled as Lizzie spread her legs, showing him just how wet and ready she was for him. Pulling a leg up and over his shoulder, Jonathan entered Lizzie slowly, making sure she felt every inch. Lizzie moaned, her hands grabbing anywhere they could on Jon as he fucked her, slow soft strokes turning harder with each thrust.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Lizzie groaned as Jonathan gave her a harder thrust, hips grinding with each stroke.

Jonathan managed to reply, “Your pussy still feels like it was made for me.”

He was already close and Jonathan couldn’t hold off even though he could tell that Lizzie wouldn’t cum with him this time. Jonathan’s lips found Lizzie’s as he kissed her while he came. Lizzie let Jonathan ride his high out, she could feel that she was getting closer but she wasn’t there.

Jonathan slumped against Lizzie for a couple moments before withdrawing from her pussy. He took off the condom, telling Lizzie, “Stay there.”

Dumping the condom into the trash, Jonathan pulled Lizzie to the edge of the bed. Spreading her legs, Jonathan knelt in between, fingers spreading her folds. Then his tongue licked her clit and Lizzie arched off the bed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you,” Jonathan cooed as he played with her clit. Then he dove in, licking her juices from her pussy before tongue-fucking Lizzie’s entrance. His fingers continued to roll her clit with light pressure, enough to keep Lizzie on the edge but not enough to get her to cum. Then Jon sucked her clit into her mouth and bit it very lightly, enough of a shock to get Lizzie to cum with a scream, fingers grabbing sheets to hold on for dear life. Jonathan muttered something in French as Lizzie rode out her high. Then she fell asleep with a light snore.

Lizzie laid on the bed, her hair fanned out around her head, body too depleted to move yet. But she peeled herself up as Jonathan was sitting up next to her, a MacBook in his lap.

“Wow, what time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight,” Jonathan replied. He had changed into a pair of sweats and Lizzie licked her lips. He looked really good in gray sweats.

She shrugged. “At least it’s Saturday.”

“I cleaned you up after you passed out.”

Jonathan gave Lizzie a wicked grin as she blushed. “It’s been a while,” she replied.

Lizzie got up and Jonathan pointed to his left, indicating that was the way to get to the bathroom. Lizzie stepped inside of the master bathroom, still too tired to check it out. After taking care of business and washing her hands, Lizzie walked back into Jonathan’s bedroom. Jonathan handed her a t-shirt and said, “You’re too tired to attempt to drive home. You can stay here; I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“I like cumming so you don’t have to keep them to yourself.”

Lizzie gave Jon a saucy smile while he groaned.

Let yourself be happy. Find that guy again, the one who was before me. I just want you to be happy, don’t shrivel up and die because I’m gone.

Lizzie looked at the note, last note from Greg before he passed from non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Her wedding ring was on next to it, the simple gold band twinkling in the late winter sun.

Today was her seventh month since her move to Chicago, fifth since she met Jonathan for the first time in years. Tonight, she was going to the game, Elise going with her but this time, they were going to sit with the WAGs. Lizzie had met Jonathan’s closest friends and teammates and it was obvious that there was something happening between them. But Lizzie felt the need to look at this one more time.

“I’m going to be happy, Greg,” Lizzie whispered before putting her old wedding ring and the note in a box, setting it next to a vase of nineteen red tulips that Jon had given her. Then she pulled her hair into a ponytail, sent all work calls on her work phone to voicemail. Picking up her personal phone, Lizzie smiled as she looked at the text from Jonathan.

She wasn’t going to run this time. She was going to embrace a future with Jonathan.

#hockeynetwork #Jonathan Toews #smut #angst #drabbles #blurbs #blackhawks #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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barnesandco · 4 years ago

Text

Eat the Rich: Chapter 1

Eat the Rich Masterlist

The Avengers are tasked with tracking down an elusive thief, and retrieving the grand amounts of money she has stolen. Even after capture, she turns out to be impossible to break, save for a mystifying interest in Bucky.

Written for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s #jamiesmadwritingbash, under the Robin Hood AU prompt, with the dialogue prompt “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing, running around with the end of the world on her his arm?” in bold in this chapter.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, memory loss and recovery, brief mentions of Bucky’s Winter Soldier days, and canon-level violence. Lots of frustrated Avengers. A bit of flirting.

A/N: I can’t decide if I want this series to make people laugh or cry, so good luck. Please comment and reblog!

Divider by the fantastically talented @whimsicalrogers!

The Avengers are confused. Perplexed and far out of their depths, they’re strewed about the meeting room with variants of displeasure on their faces. Bucky wears the biggest scowl of all, sitting ramrod straight in an armchair intended for postures far more comfortable. The source of their malcontent hovers in a hologram above the conference table, somehow managing to look bored while handcuffed and bound to a steel chair in the most secure interrogation room in the Compound.

You’re a thief. A crook who has been stealing big money from bigger people, in a slew of prominent heists that eventually led to the Avengers’ recruitment to your case. High stakes burglary isn’t their field, but when certain people threw their weight around, demanding a serious investigation, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes had no choice but to play detectives to one elusive criminal.

A flirtatious one, too, Bucky thinks, remembering your first confrontation, as he traces the seams of his metal arm with the softer pads of his flesh fingers.

Sam, Nat, and Bucky had tracked you all the way to Paris, where, one night, Sam gave chase while Bucky waited to intercept you on the predicted escape route, in an alley behind one of the classiest bars in town. Their prediction had proved accurate, and you had pretty much run straight into Bucky’s waiting arms.

The ensuing fight should have been an easy one, and Bucky made the awful mistake -- the mistake he hadn’t made since meeting the Widows in the Red Room -- of underestimating a woman, and he ended up paying for it.

His fists clench in his lap at the memory of how you had pulled a very Widow move on him, and he had wound up on his back with your thighs around his neck in a chokehold almost gentle. You had leaned over him to tie his hands together, and left him panting, out of breath, and with the taste of rust in his mouth. Clambering off, and wiping away the blood at the corner of his lip, you had then said, “I look forward to our rematch, handsome,” before disappearing into the dark, French night.

“Barnes?” He hears Stark call, and he blinks. “You still with us, or are you daydreaming about your girlfriend?” The room grows silent, and Bucky can sense suppressed smiles and silent glares, the latter aimed at Stark from Steve.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grouses, letting his metal fingers dig into his kneecaps.

Sam, coffee abandoned on the table in front of him, eyes twinkling says, “We heard her through the coms, Barnes. In Paris, and in Buenos Aires.”

“And Oslo,” Peter pipes up, and Bucky falls back into the memory of autumn frost crunching under his feet, the reverberations of the orchestra in the opera house as he followed your coat-tails -- you played violin, because why the hell not -- down the busy street. Power-walking turned to running, and you had ended up in a crowded, posh bar with Bucky backing you into the wall in the hallway leading to the restrooms, holding your hands in one metal fist behind you.

Still, you had been unperturbed, trying to distract him with gemstone eyes while he called backup -- Stark, soaring in stealth mode above the fjord. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing, running around with the end of the world on his arm?” You had asked, gesturing toward his metal shoulder, no struggle, no flight or fight.

Red-lipped smiles, you had given him, and he had been so close to pulling out the handcuffs until a trio of burly security guards had appeared, your backup, apparently, and engaged him in enough combat to allow you to escape.

“She seems to like you,” Sam finishes piercing the haze of another battle lost, less violently at least, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like her,” is the best he can come up with, and he stands, moves towards a window overlooking the grounds, addressing the bulletproof glass, next. “What I would like is for us to get the money back so we can all go on our merry way and pretend this ever happened.”

The room falls quiet at that. Every person here is acutely aware of the fact that they’re no closer to getting the money back -- nobody could ever spend the amounts you’ve stolen recently, so quickly; FRIDAY’s run simulations on it -- and you haven’t budged under the interrogations you’ve faced thus far.

Barton enters the room as soon as he gets off the quinjet, still in his typical Bed Stuy uniform -- ripped jeans and purple t-shirt -- and Bucky, alongside Natasha and Sam in the observation room behind the one way glass, can see the angle he’s going with.

It’s almost cliché, or maybe it’s just Clint, so relaxed and loose-limbed with too much pizza in his system and likely smelling of one-eyed dog -- Bucky adores Lucky, but he’ll never admit it -- the way he turns his chair around and sits, resting his chin on folded arms atop the back of the chair.

For a moment, Bucky worries he’s fallen asleep right there, until his blond head lifts ever so slightly and he says, “Would you like something to drink?”

You quirks a smile. “I’d like a proper introduction. What, were you raised in a barn?” The smirk is teasing, but there’s no bite, like you’re greeting an old friend with an inside joke. Barton traces the edge of the table.

“Almost. Ever heard of Waverly, Iowa?” He asks.

You shake your head, and then, grin, informing, “No, but I have heard of you, Clint Barton.”

“So you didn’t need an introduction.”

“I’m a prankster, can’t you tell?” Bucky thinks of the navy blue dress in Prague, the tiny but powerful stink bombs you had kept in a thigh holster, how you had left them coughing.

“Jokes are all well and good but, uh, stealing isn’t so funny,” Clint answers., sitting up, and Bucky can hear in his hardening tone that he’s starting to get serious.

“Depends on who you’re stealing from,” is your flippant response.

“Also depends on who has to get the money back, too, and let me tell you, we’re a little tired of playing games.”

“Then I guess I win, right?”

“Are you sure you don’t recognize her? Her tactics seem familiar,” Sam says, and the sensation that has been aggravating the nerves in an unlocatable part of his brain since he saw her for the first time worsens, but Sam’s question is addressed to Nat.

“She’s not Red Room, if that’s what you mean. The Widows were trained to be merciless. She avoids getting more physical than she needs to,” Natasha answers, retying the band on her braid, flaming red hair coiled over her shoulder.

“She broke Bucky’s nose,” Steve points out in protest.

Nat shrugs, leans forward to doodle on the notepad resting on her knee. “If it was me, I might have knocked some teeth out. Maybe pulled a knife or garrotte.”

“You have to tell me where you get those sting-y things,” you say the moment Nat enters the room, eyes sparkling and wide with awe. Bucky winces as he remembers the short-circuit from that little electric disc. The engineers in the bank had been pretty troubled by the thought of what could’ve caused that kind of damage to the internal systems, until he his fist around one of their necks gave them something else to worry ab--

Steve’s hand on his shoulder startles him back to the observation room instead of Hydra’s clutches, and he says, “Hey, Bucky, how’s it going?” with a nod to the room in front of them. Vibranium cuffs peek out from under the large, green hoodie that envelopes your form, making you look deceptively soft.

“She wants to know where Nat gets her taser discs.”

“You’re eager for those even after you’ve felt how much they hurt?” Nat asks calmly, and Bucky imagines an ice-cool smirk on her lips as she reminds you of how exactly you were captured. It was the tasers that brought you down, after Sam, Steve and Bucky flew and ran you to exhaustion through the streets of Algiers, costing Stark some collateral payments. He hadn’t minded too much, just been happy to have you in custody, finally.

“They look like they’d be fun to use. Pretty handy around certain metal armed men, too,” you suggest playfully.

“Yeah, he isn’t going to talk to you, but I’ve been looking forward to this chat of ours, so why don’t you start by telling me your name.”

“I don’t have one. I’m a ghost story,” you say, and Bucky assumes Nat is looking unimpressed, because you press forward with the joke. “You’re going to need a medium to talk to me.”

“And where do you suppose I find one of those?”

“You have one. Isn’t Bucky Barnes a ghost story, too?”

Sam’s about to name what is sure to be another way to cause unnecessary injury when Bucky butts in. “It doesn’t matter how she hurt me or how she could have hurt me,” this, with a glare at Natasha, who smiles down at the paper. “We have a burglar with billions stashed away and a buncha angry billionaires breathin’ down our necks to find it.”

“Well why don’t you give it a go if you think it’s so easy?” Looking up from the hangman sketch, Nat fixes emerald eyes on his, reminding him, once again, of the unusual interest you’ve taken in Bucky. One that started with mid-battle conversations of a different nature, and that has extended into custody. Something that’s been bugging Steve, his protective instinct whirring into overdrive -- Bucky sees his eye twitch from across the room at Nat’s remark -- no more so than during Steve’s turn to question the captive.

“You guys are all taking your turns playing Good Cop Bad Cop, but I haven’t seen Robocop yet. Why is that?”

“You left him tied up in Paris–”

“There’s an innuendo in there somewhere,” you sing-song, head tilting rhythmically from side to side. Bucky clenches his fists in the observation room.

“–so he isn’t much obliged to see you,” Steve finishes, bypassing your interruption.

Playful eyes with laser determination, unperturbed by locked rooms and handcuffs, focus on a spot just above Steve’s shoulder, almost looking through the glass, even though Bucky knows it’s just a mirror for you. “What a shame. I was hoping our little back alley tussle wouldn’t scare the big, bad White Wolf away.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Are you going to tell us where the money is or do you want formal charges and a jail cell?” He asks, shifting so he blocks your line of sight, folds his hands on the table, and broadens his shoulders, all-Captain and no-nonsense.

“Giving up on me so easy?”

“I wouldn’t call it easy, miss. We’ve been looking for months and tried just about everything to get you to cooperate.”

“Not everything.”

“She’s yawning,” Sam proclaims indignantly, glaring, shocked, at the hologram where indeed, the source of their troubles is yawning, like you could fall asleep, tied up and all. “Unbelievable.” He shakes his head, and Bucky stops a snort from escaping. He’s seen all kinds of interrogations, faced a fair few, too, and this woman is just warming up.

The ensuing discussion and debate continues for hours, until the sun sets behind the window Bucky’s standing by, and what silences them is the thump with which Clint puts his hearing aids on the table in front of him. Sam’s coffee wobbles dangerously, and everyone sighs as Clint wordlessly tells them to shut up. Murmurs of agreement to rest and get a fresh start tomorrow echo through the room, and Bucky catches Barton’s eye, and receives a wink.

Later that night, in his room, Bucky knows he’s not going to get a minute of sleep. It’s just an intuition, something his very bones are telling him, and he sees no reason to dispute it. Under the throbbing ache in his head, there’s an itch in the grey matter of his mind, somewhere he can’t reach, and he twists and turns. The feeling is recognizable as the vexation inflicted when he’s on the verge of a memory, but those return either by dream or by sense these days.

Dreams are for the bad memories, the days of the Winter Soldier, his subconscious loosening whatever locks his mind placed to compartmentalize the pain, to stuff it all away. The nightmares, the terrible memories leave him shaking, but therapy helps. By a few percent, but when the load of pain is as heavy as his is, every small burden taken off his shoulder helps.

Sense brings back the time before Hydra, although it’s sometimes hard to believe there was one. Steve’s face buried in his shoulder, be careful, Buck; Romanian take out, his mother’s hands; faucet dripping, water running out; oranges exploding on his tongue, a month’s salary plus overtime from working at the docks for that sweet rush once a year. The Depression, the first war -- trench memory brought back by a rainy run in Central Park, the scent of muddy petrichor in the air -- snowfall in the Alps, Dugan’s cigar. His body remembers, and then shows his mind the way.

However, this, this infuriating personality that has him incensed and restless, she isn’t in his mind in any capacity, but Bucky thinks he knows her. Or that he might have, once. And he needs to know her, again, because he hates not knowing. The nightmares hurt, and the memories of what he’s lost do, as well, but not knowing, existing in the strange limbo between certainty and loss, it’s unbearable. If this woman knows him, if she’s another key to another past, another piece of him, he has to talk to her.

“FRIDAY?” He asks groggily, sitting up.

The screen in the wall across from him blinks blue in acknowledgement, along with a “Yes, sir?”

“Is Steve up?”

“Captain Rogers is awake and having a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Sergeant,” FRIDAY tells him, and Bucky curses at the idiocy of consuming caffeine at this hour of night -- whatever’s in that shit works even on the serum and that can’t be good -- replacing his sweatpants with jeans once more and heading out to find his friend.

Steve has his back to the entryway, deep in thought -- dumbass, anyone could sneak up on you like this -- when Bucky comes in and clears his throat. The mug in Steve’s hands looks comically small, and Bucky sits down across from him at the island, reaches forward to take it from him, and downs the remaining half.

It’s just one more testament to how disturbed Steve is -- as if the careless consumption of coffee at midnight wasn’t enough -- that he lets Bucky steal his coffee. Blue meets blue in the silver dusting of moonlight, and Steve tries to locate Bucky’s purpose in his eyes before asking him for it verbally. “What is it, Buck?” He’s tired, too many missions weighing on those eyelids, but too worked up to let them close, to find rest. What Bucky’s going to say won’t help.

“Let me talk to her.”

#ayesha writes #jamiesmadwritingbash #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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crescent-yoon · 4 years ago

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only in my lucid dreams

Part 3

★ Seojun's POV ★

all i could hear beneath my feet was the crunching of snow. it snowed heavily the previous night, making it difficult for me if i had chosen to ride my bike. i was finally coming back to this school after so long and i was nervous. nervous to see you outside of these dreams.

your eyes were just as i had seen them every night - dim yet warm and full of life - as you had set your eyes on me with that brightness that was only shown to me. your hair down and eyes full of wonder as always. when i saw you in these dreams, you had always looked as beautiful as ever. even if you were just simply wearing a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie. ever so rarely wearing something out of the ordinary for you.

even last night you had worn the clothes that seemed to give you the most comfort, while i had wanted so desperately to show you my uniform. the colors that should've been recognizable to both you and i, sparking your curiosity. sparking that wonder in your eyes.

"why are you wearing that?" you asked as curiosity had played on your face. "it's... a bit different from your usual attire, Seojun."

i couldn't help but to mentally adore how that expression made you look so.. cute.

"yes, well, my mom is a bit sick so my sister and i need to switch schools." i tilted my head to the side just a bit, hoping to give off the cockiest of smirks only for a mix of sincerity and playfulness to show in my expression. "why? are you happy that we're going to the same school, Y/n?"

"so happy i could have a heart attack right now from the overwhelming joy that i'm feeling right now?" you playfully rolled your eyes at me as i gave you a light shove in response, just as we had always done whenever we were enjoying each other's company.

"yeah, yeah. no need to go overboard." i laughed as i took your hand into my own. your hand was cold yet comforting at the same time. it had always been this way as i had kept my thoughts, wondering if you had seen me as a man. "besides, i used to attend this school but things got crazy in my life so i had to move away."

"makes sense, i suppose." everytime you always had little to say, but you never strayed away from me. you did zone out constantly and always made me wonder about the gears turning in your head.

"i know that it's a bit strange but.. do you see me as a man or just a figment of your imagination?" i had asked, truly curious. unfortunately for me, you were so zoned out that you hadn't heard a single word.

"earth to Y/n?" i playfully and softly tapped the bottom of your chin to gain your attention as i had always done. "clearly you weren't listening but i asked you if you-"

you disappeared as i was going to ask again and that had only meant that you had woken up. i was going to get ready for the day too when another dream had started.

i saw you in our school uniform, presumably on your way home after school. you were walking alone unsuspectingly when two huge men had grabbed ahold of you and tried to shove you into a dark looking van. i couldn't hear anything in this dream but one of the guys lips had read, "whether we have to threaten her or threaten you, your mother owes us money and we'll just keep hold of you until she finally pays up."

immediately without hesitation, i felt my feet running. of course i'd run to you. i had to save you. but just as i got close, the ringing of my alarm clock had sounded and i had to get ready for school, that dream set in my mind.

the sight, the feeling, the sounds. all of it felt unbelievably... real.

snapping out of my thoughts, i had walked past the snow covered trees towards the school gates. until i had seen... you. i'm glad that you were still okay which had only meant the event was something that would happen in the future, keeping this in mind, i would discreetly keep an eye on you. even as i remembered the dream before that.

the feel of your hand in mine, the racing of my heart, the curiosity on your face. every bit of it felt so surreal. why is it you, y/n? why do you keep appearing in my dreams like this? at first... at first i thought that you were only meant to be a figment of my imagination. someone that i had made up in spite of my loneliness.

but then the dreams had kept occurring and it all felt too real. especially when i had seen you in real life, in the real world. you hadn't noticed me as you had that zoned expression on your face, unaware that you had brushed my shoulder. that familiar warm, tingly sensation had been felt all over my body. it was really you. and i knew your weren't my imagination when i had heard you lost in thought mumbling the words of "who are you" and "why are we connected, han seojun?".

even now, you looked exactly like you did in my dreams. there was no way that this could all just be... an eery coincidence. but when our eyes met, i knew. i knew that we were connected somehow.

should i approach you? no, i'd look strange. should i pretend as if i had never seen you before? but i had seen you before, in person and in my dreams.

then i had noticed it.

i noticed that unlike me, you weren't wearing a winter coat, though the snow continued to gently land on your eyelashes and melt on your cheeks and nose, a slight shiver coming over your body.

those same warm eyes, they were filled with familiarity and they made me wonder. do you recognize me? you seemed to.

i was going to muster up the courage to approach you until a friend had dragged me away with the ring of the bell.

snapping out of my thoughts and out of the cold weather, i'd been dragged to 2b and there our gazes met again.

i don't know what you were doing but suddenly i had seen you put your hands to the temples of your forehead. at first i had thought you had gotten a headache until i realized. you were concentrating really hard on something. i realized that you're acting just as i did when i realized you were real, probably thinking you had some sort of super power and that thought was so funny that it had me holding back laughter.

"um.. are you okay, y/n?" Suho had asked you as Jugyeong felt your forehead to check your temperature. Their concern had made it even harder to hold back my laughter.

"ahaha, yes, well." you had looked down until you had turned around and saw me laughing.

"so weird." i shook my head, genuinely trying to stop laughing but you looked so much like a confused puppy that it was hard to stop. "what are you even doing, Y/n?"

"huh?" your head tilted in confusion. "how do you-"

i hadn't even realized that i had let your name slip from my mouth. of course i shouldn't have been able to know your name without ever truly meeting you, right? trying to find my way out of the situation, i had remembered that every student had to wear a plated name tag on their shirt.

"nametag." i pointed at the silver plated pin on your jacket. creating a quiet atmosphere before looking out into the hallway from the classroom window with a clearing of my throat.

suddenly i had felt a hard pinch on the back of my neck and it hurt badly. it was almost as if you were trying to make sure i was real. i wanted to ask you why you did that in a calm manner but it had hurt so bad that i had scolded you with a stern and slightly raised voice saying, "why? what do you want so bad that you have to pinch me on my neck like that?"

not realizing a had lowered the volume of our chattering classmates, their eyes all turned in our direction. you very quietly and quickly apologized as you headed back to your seat. i has realized that i had probably embarrassed you. i wanted to apologize but before i could, our teacher had walked in and began class. even with the teacher starting class, my eyes only lingered on you.

the day had been over with and as the students began piling out of the building, i noticed that the snowfall had gotten worse and thought about how you hadn't worn a jacket to school today. amongst all my thoughts, i had also remembered that dream. the one where you had been in danger and i don't think that i could've allowed you to walk home. especially because you had told me once in a dream that you had lived alone.

when you had began taking a step forward, i decided to stop you and had pulled you into my chest.

"Han Seojun?" you looked up in surprise at me, those sparkling eyes staring at me once again. "what's wrong?"

"i know it's a bit weird of me to request something of you when we just met but i need you to trust me." i frowned, taking off my jacket and wrapping it around you seeing as that i couldn't stand to see you cold, teeth slightly chattering. "don't go home today. i need you to come with me."

i didn't really expect you to go with me. after all, you only knew me inside of these dreams we shared. who were you to trust a stranger. but then i saw this determined nod you gave and i felt my heart racing as you had told me-

"i trust you"

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

#oimld #only in my lucid dreams #han seojun #han seo joon #han seojun x reader #han seojun imagine #han seojun x you

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annabethy · 4 years ago

Note

“don’t lie to me” + percabeth if u are up to!!!

“Don’t lie to me.” Percabeth teacher au!! <3

Annabeth couldn’t think of a better way to spend her mornings than with Percy. He was always so sweet and warm when he first woke up, making him the perfect person to snuggle up to in the middle of a New York winter.

The ride to work was no less lovely with her sitting in the passenger seat, a steaming cup of coffee that Percy had made “with love” in her right hand, and her left hand intertwined with his. Watching the snow fall in a comfortable silence was so delicate and magical, and it’s truly the best way to start her day.

As she’s walking into the school with him, hand in hand, she leans closer to him, using his arm as a buffer from the biting wind. Percy just gives her a lopsided smile, something akin to adoration in his eyes, and pulled her into his side. There weren’t many students around this early in the morning, so she doesn’t bother trying to separate herself from him. She doesn’t even know if she could because he’s acting as her personal heater, and that may be too good to give up.

“You look adorable,” Percy comments as he holds open the door to the school. “The red nose really tops off your whole look.”

Annabeth sniffles, trying to subtly wipe her nose with the hand that’s still holding a travel cup of coffee. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m being serious,” he whispers playfully, bumping her arm with his elbow and prompting her to roll her eyes fondly. He guides her through the halls of the front office, reaching for her hand and lacing them back together. “You always look pretty, but right now you look so huggable.”

She can feel the flush still on her cheeks, but she doesn’t know if it was from the cold or his kind words. Almost a year of dating and he still made her feel just as giddy as she did on day one. “I love you.”

“Couldn’t possibly love me as much as I love you,” he quips, but he presses a kiss to her temple before changing the subject. “So, I was thinking. After work, cuddles and a movie?”

“Only if we can get snacks first,” she says, biting her lip in a smile. If there’s anything she loves more than waking up next to the love of her life, it’s getting to spend Friday night with just the two of them. There were no kids to bother them or tests to grade. It was a time for the two of them to just exist with one another, and she cherished every week when she got to go home with him.

“We can stop for snacks, but then we’re watching Finding Nemo.”

“What’s with your obsession with the ocean?”

“I think clownfish are cute,” he answers, because of course he thinks clownfish are cute. “All fish are cute. That’s why I teach marine.”

Annabeth expected nothing less of him, and she decides to humor him. “Did you know I once had two goldfish and I named them Ren and Nephr?”

“Unique names,” Percy says, sidestepping a kid frantically making their way down the hall.

“They both mean kidney.”

“You would, Chase.”

“I also had a fish named Ornith.”

“That means bird,” Percy states.

“I liked the irony,” she tells him, taking a sip of her coffee. It’s still steaming in the cup, and it burns her tongue slightly. “Regardless, I think your obsession with the ocean is alarming.”

“At least I don’t go around screaming law of cosines,” Percy says, pointedly looking at her. “I didn’t even know what that was until you started crying about how stupid they were last week when you were grading papers.”

“That’s because they are stupid, I swear to god. They were all I-don’t-know-when-to-use-law-of-sines-versus-law-of-cosines like it’s hard!”

“I’m sure it’s so easy,” he says, but his laugh gives his sarcasm away. “You just have to accept that you were a fluke in the system, and no one will ever be a smart as you.”

Annabeth smacks him upside the head with her cup of coffee lightly but she’s still smiling. It’s moments like this that really get to her. She could just be herself around him, and they could tease each other but know that they love those things about each other at the same time.

She loved him.

Annabeth bites at the inside of her cheek, loving the way he looks at her out of the corner of his eyes, before she slowly pops the lid of the coffee off to try and get it to cool down faster.

Percy’s arm is snug around her waist, so she doesn’t look up as she continues walking. She blows around the rim of the cup, the steam swirling up in the air. It smells mouthwateringly delicious and it’s starting to cool off, so she brings it to her lips just as they round a corner, and—

Someone slams into them, and suddenly the only thing Annabeth can register is pain.

“Shit.” The scalding coffee seeps through her shirt almost immediately, and her skin feels like it’s on fire. The cup falls from her hand, the rest of the contents splattering on the floor, but she can’t be bothered to care as she tries to break the shirt’s contact with her blistering torso.

“—you okay?”

Annabeth’s mind comes reeling back as Percy’s voice reach her ears, and she can pick up the frantic edge to it.

“Annabeth,” he prompts again, his hand sliding down her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering him, she glances to the person cowering in front of her, and her skin is on fire for a completely different reason.

Octavian stares back at her, terror clear as day on his face, and she is about to explode. This kid was always the center of something, causing problems with every single breath he takes. He had no shame, and he always had the audacity to do whatever it is he wants to do, and now he’s ruined her favorite part of the day, and she can’t breathe.

“Octavian,” she says tightly, scrunching her nose in mock politeness. “Did you maybe think it would be a good idea to check where you’re going?”

The kid stammers.

“It would be smart not to go running around the halls and bumping into people carrying hot drinks,” she says, her voice dangerously steady. “God, you’re so—” There’s so much she wants to say, to scream, at him, but even in her heightened sense of rage, she knows she can’t, so she clenches her fist hard enough for her nails to indent her skin and she pauses for a second before she storms off in the direction of her room.

She doesn’t look to make sure Percy is behind her, too busy trying to hold back rising tears, and she really doesn’t know why she feels this way. All she knows is everything was perfect, and now it’s not.

As she unlocks her classroom door, Percy’s hand is settling over the dip in her waist. She steps inside the room, and she doesn’t know what exactly she was going to do except perhaps have a meltdown, but she never got the chance because Percy wastes no time before pulling his sweater over his head and holding it out towards her.

“What are you doing?” she asks miserably, still forcing back her frustrated tears.

“Take it,” he says, gazing at her earnestly.

Annabeth bites her lip, her eyes glossing over. He was too good for her. “I’m sorry,” she chokes out. She doesn’t know how to express what she was sorry for, but she has a feeling he knows.

“Don’t be sorry.” Percy’s arms seek out the bottom of the sweater so he can help her into it. He slides it over her and once it’s on, he reaches forward to tilt her head towards him so he can give her a forehead kiss. “It was an accident.”

“Octavian was an accident,” she whimpers, dropping her head against his chest.

She doesn’t understand why she feels so upset. She just knows that she doesn’t like the hole in the pit of her stomach or the tightness of her throat.

“Why are you so sad?” Percy asks, cupping her cheeks and pouting.

“Today was going so well,” she complains, wincing away from his fingers that go to wipe her tears.

And maybe she does know why she’s so upset. Mornings were her favorite time of day because she got to be with Percy. She got to see him in ways that no one else did and listen to his words that he doesn’t say when anyone else is around. When they’re at work five days a week surrounded by children, he didn’t get to show her affection in the ways he does outside of school. Morning was her chance to see that.

Never had something interrupted those perfect moments before. Not until now.

The moment had been so perfect, so private and loving, and it was destroyed.

“You told me I looked adorable,” she says, sniffling. It was the only way she knew how to explain the torrent of emotions she was feeling. “Now I have a big coffee stain on my shirt, and I look disgusting.”

“You still look adorable.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she chides.

“I’m not lying,” he says softly. “You always look adorable.”

She just drops her forehead back against him pitifully.

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Percy says. “I tell you that all the time.”

“You’re a big fat liar.”

Percy’s lips tilt up in a smile. “I’m not. In fact, you actually look even better right now, all cute and warm in my hoodie.”

Annabeth looks down as though for the first time realizing she was wearing it. It was too big on her, but it smelled like him, the picture of a sunny day at the beach, warm on the sand.

“You’re so so so pretty, especially when you’re wearing my clothes.” Percy’s arms wrap around her squeezing tightly, and she feels secure in his embrace. “Don’t let this ruin your day. Octavian’s stupid. This isn’t new information.”

“But our morning is ruined.”

Percy squeezes her tighter, slightly swaying back and forth. “Lucky for you, it’s Friday. We can go home and pretend it’s morning again and take lots of naps.”

“And watch Finding Nemo?”

“Oh, yes. That part’s nonnegotiable.”

Annabeth’s lips pull up at that as she nestles deeper against him. “I love you.”

Percy’s response is an affirmative hum and a kiss on the top of her head.

So maybe her morning hadn’t gone quite as planned, and maybe she was overreacting just a bit, but there’s always tomorrow, and there’s always their Friday night snuggles.

As long as she has Percy, she figures everything would be alright.

#percy jackson #percabeth #annabeth chase #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing #anon #asks #teacher au

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five-miles-over · 4 years ago

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New Girl (High School!Commodus x Reader)

Summary: You are a new student at Institutum Romanus Educational (which is supposed to be Latin for “Roman Educational Institute”) and come across some fascinating characters (I mean classmates). Sort of based off a ‘Gladiator’ AU listicle. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: A cheesy meet-cute scene

Word Count: 1,663

When you’d came to Rome to visit your father during your winter holiday, you had only hoped it would be a temporary break from your mundane life back in your hometown. Perhaps you’d get a chance to see the quaint streets covered in frost, or visit the Tiber River. And like most children, you would get a present - maybe new clothes, or a gadget. A brochure for a new school was certainly not what you were expecting as a gift.

Yet here you were, on your first day of the new semester in January, walking to your first period. All you were hoping for was nothing but a peaceful end to your 10th year. You were now to be a student at the Institutum Romanus Educational, or IRE as many playfully called it. It was perplexing to you why a school would insist upon retaining its Latin name, but your parents said it was reinstated by its current principal Marcus Aurelius. He was supposedly an admirer of the Classics and wanted his children to have a good understanding of ancient languages.

The first period of the day was Physics, which you never had a huge affinity towards, but were certainly not averse to. The teacher was kind, and he seemed to be quite enthusiastic about the content he was talking about. After being armed with two problem sets about electromagnetism, you had to walk across the entire building to your next class - English.

Throughout the hall, many of the sights weren’t very different from your old school - there were cliques of people talking to each other, and a few couples making out in front of the lockers. Campaign posters of a girl named Lucilla Aurelius were plastered across the wall. You were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her on your way to class and by gods, the posters did not do her justice. She was gorgeous.

Flanked by two “minions” or girls wearing blouses and skirts similar to the pink-and-white combination she was wearing, she held a box of buttons that said, “Vote for Lucilla, Vote for Rome” on them. With a charismatic grin, she was passing them out to various people and telling them to vote for her for their Student Body President.

Another voice rose from the cacophony in the hallways. “I wouldn’t even know if a rat had chewed off the ends of her thin strands, that’s how ugly that girl’s haircut is.” A bald boy wearing an Assassin’s Creed shirt loomed over a girl with a pixie cut, who was crying.

He was answered by a larger boy, a seemingly more bulky one. “Quinn, I don’t think that’s how to get over being dumped. Just leave her alone.”

“Hagen, you piece of meat.” Quinn grumbled, leaving the tiny girl to pick up her books from the floor. Hagen gave her the rest of her things and sent her off to class.

When you entered your English class, you heaved a sigh of relief that you were on time. The board saying ‘Hamlet’ assured you that you had reached the correct classroom. The seats were almost all filled except for one placed in front of a green-eyed boy with cropped dark hair.

He was probably the perfect mix of gothic and preppy - his bangs were long enough to fall over his brow, and he wore a barely noticeable layer of eyeliner. His crisp, black button-down, paired with his skinny jeans and black designer boots, served as a stark contrast to the sweat pants and hoodies many of the other male students wore.

You waved politely only to find him idly writing something in a journal. It looked like something in elaborate cursive, and you would’ve looked further if the teacher didn’t begin taking attendance. And if it doing so wouldn’t make you look completely creepy.

Within moments, the teacher began lecturing about one of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedies, calling upon various students to read scenes out loud for the rest of the class. A few kids named Gregory and Falcon read for the parts of Polonius, the chamberlain of Denmark, and Laertes, the son of Polonius.

You were nearly caught by surprise when the teacher invited you to read Ophelia’s lines in front of the class from Act 1, Scene 3 of the play. It wasn’t exactly on your agenda to attract much attention on your first day, but you decided to accept anyways. Standing in front of the class, you read Ophelia’s lines loud and clear while your green-eyed mystery, named Commodus, read Hamlet’s lines with passion. He seemed like he was born for this role.

“Thank you, both of you.” Your teacher applauded both of you after the scene was completed. When you returned to your seat, you saw a hand reach towards you from behind, holding a yellow sticky note. Quickly taking it, you tucked it under your knee before you could get caught.

“Commie’s passing notes in class again,” Gregory taunted, leading the entire class to laugh with him as the boy sitting behind you fumed with embarrassment. “Infatuated with the girl reading Ophelia, he seems to forget when the stage ends and when real life begins.”

The teacher’s eyebrows furrowed at Gregory’s remark. “Y/N, is this true? Did Commodus give you a note?”

“No, not at all,” you lied for him. “He didn’t give me a note at all, I just dropped my sticky notes and he gave them back to me.” Ignoring Gregory’s eye-rolling, the teacher reluctantly accepted your alibi and continued to lecture until the bell rung.

“Nice reading voice.” A boy in a burnt orange jacket offered you a kind smile as you both left the classroom. “You, uh, the new girl?”

“I am, thanks,” you nodded. “And you are?”

“The new boy,” he joked. “Sort of - I came here a few months ago from Australia. Actually Spain’s my homeland - I was born there.”

“So you’re a Spaniard?”

“No, I’m Max, but Spaniard works,” he winked, eliciting a laugh from you. “Want me to walk you to your next class?”

“If it’s not too much trouble for you,” you answered. “You wouldn’t by chance happen to know where World History is?

Max grinned. “That’s just where I’m headed. You looked confused when you entered - thought you could use a friendly face on your first day.”

“Thank you for making me feel a bit more welcome, Max.” You replied, letting him lead you through the crowd of students. Unbeknownst to the both of you, a pair of jealous peridot eyes followed the two of you until you turned the corner and disappeared.

Later that day, when lunchtime came around, your eyes widened at the color and variety of the flavorful dishes being served. It was almost like they were being prepared by gourmet chefs. You couldn’t help but smile at how pretty your tray looked; penne with a creamy tomato sauce, arugula salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, a piece of bread, and freshly cut fruit.

Deciding against the crowded cafeteria, you decided to take a chance to explore some of the other hallways in your new school. You wondered just how big your new school could possibly be. Did they have an indoor pool, a large gymnasium, a library,…or an auditorium? Holding your tray close to your chest, you walked into the large theater. In the center of the breathtakingly colossal stage, you found Commodus sitting cross-legged next to his shoulder bag and a thermos.

“Hello,” you quietly greeted him, approaching the edge of the stage and climbing up.

“Shouldn’t you be eating in the cafeteria?”, he asked, slightly perplexed, looking up from the book he was reading.”No,” you replied, placing your backpack down. “It wasn’t really my scene at my old school. I used to eat in the library or the music room.”

Commodus hummed in acknowledgment, returning to his copy of Dracula and his thermos of black coffee. “Where’s your lunch?” You asked, sitting next to him.

“I don’t usually eat any. I’m too busy.”

You pushed your tray towards him. “Would you like to share some of mine?”

“Yes, thank you.” He ripped off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the pasta sauce before chewing it. Commodus allowed himself a few more bites partially because he didn’t want to seem rude and…you seemed likable.

A few moments of silence took place while the two of you ate before you glanced at the clock. “Well…it’s time for me to go to my next class,” you commented.

“Oh…” His eyes looked slightly downcast when you told him you had to leave. “You look lovely!” You froze at his sudden compliment. “That…that was what I hoped to tell you in that note I gave you. That you look exquisite - your hair, your lips, your eyes- it reminded me of Lady Ophelia when you read her lines. You’re…you look more beguiling than she would be.”

“That’s quite sweet of you, Commodus.” You said with a small smile, flabbergasted. “Thank you, I…I’m quite flattered.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like it. Most people don’t understand my references or my vocabulary.” Commodus stammered, relieved that you didn’t find him disturbing for comparing you to a Shakespearean heroine. “Thank you for sharing your lunch and your time with me, Y/N.”

“Of course,” you extended your hand, expecting to shake his. “It was nice meeting you, Commodus.”

Accepting your gesture, he clasped your hand and softly kissed your knuckles, causing you to blush. Usually, princes from fairytales would do something so chivalrous. “It was nice meeting you too,” Commodus replied.

“I’ll see you later, then.” You carried your tray and backpack and began leaving the auditorium. Commodus watched you leave, hoping that perhaps you wouldn’t be like many of the other new kids, pretending to be nice before getting swept away by the popular students. That perhaps you would be…just as special as he already thought you were.

#commodus x reader #gladiator 2000 #gladiator au #commodus #emperor commodus #commodus fic

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renaerys · 4 years ago

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PPG One-Shot: Six Degrees Chiller (Brick/Blossom)

A new cute one-shot in honor of @carriedreamerx birthday! In the same high school AU as part 1, part 2, and part 3, but can totally stand-alone. Also posted on my AO3. Tune in for some laughs and some Reds cuteness!

Summary: Brick goes deodorant shopping. It doesn't end well. (Or does it??)

xxx

Brick squinted at the nine-foot shelf packed with a full color wheel of deodorants and antiperspirants. The sheer surfeit of brands and scents was as daunting to behold as it was absolutely batshit insane—how many ways did people need to not smell like a dirty gym sock?

He picked a random stick and scowled at the label as if it had offended him and all his future progeny. Who the fuck would want to smell like mango lassi?

The squeak of a shopping cart rolling down the aisle sent Brick into a febrile panic for a hot second, and he shoved the saccharine deodorant stick back onto the shelf. A geriatric woman with a hunched back, a bright head scarf, and eyes so folded over with wrinkles it was a miracle she could see anything at all wheeled her cart slowly past Brick, who froze where he stood. She smiled politely at him, and he nodded out of sheer self-preservation instinct. The moment she passed him, he yanked the bill of his red cap lower over his eyes.

“Get a grip,” he grumbled. He was an eighteen-year-old guy buying deodorant, not stool softener. He was totally casual and had absolutely no reason to be so fucking paranoid. Nobody who might recognize him was coming to Cooper’s Market at 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Brick wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and searched the shelves for what he’d come for so he could hurry up and leave. There it was, fifth shelf in a sea of sleek black and edgy, neon letters: Axe Ice Chill.

“Okay, do you consider yourself more of a music lover, sports star, gaming guru, or style icon?” Boomer had asked as he sat cross-legged on the sofa with his laptop open to the Axe “Find Your Magic” test a few months ago.

“Sports star,” Butch had said on his left, and poked the screen that wasn’t a touch-screen.

“That’s you, moron,” Brick had said, totally above this stupid test. “Pick style icon.”

Boomer grinned. “Oh yeah, your hoodies are so stylin’.” He clicked the next question. “Signature scent? Huh, maybe warm and aromatic?”

“Sounds like one of those Yankee holiday candles,” Butch had said.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

“Well, you're not exactly woody and earthy, and you’re definitely not fruity and sweet—”

“Just go to the next one.” Brick clicked on “fresh and cool” and waited for the screen to load. “Smellin’ good!” the loading page flashed at him. Jesus fucking Christ.

When the quiz presented a true or false statement, Butch moved like he had a bug up his ass and slammed the touchpad before Brick or Boomer could do anything about it.

Boomer tried not to laugh. “Dude, come on.”

“Please, he’s a punk-ass dweeb who’d never make the first move in a fight, let alone on a girl—” Butch had taunted.

Brick punched him in the throat with his Super speed and smiled at the sound of his asshat brother gagging. “Choke and die, motherfucker.”

Butch wheezed as he laughed through the pain, and Brick and Boomer breezed through the more generic age and appearance questions: under 18, long hair (“Mane Man!” the quiz gushed, and Brick almost melted Boomer’s laptop right there), and natural look. After an artificially anticipatory loading screen, a picture of a dude with a clown nose crowd surfing in a sepia Instagram filter appeared on the screen with the generic “Be your best self!” encouragement in blocky letters superimposed upon it, and finally the expert, personalized recommendation for Brick’s body spray needs.

“Because you’re hotter when you’re chill.” Brick had cringed when he read that idiotic tagline the first time, and he cringed reading it again now in the deserted personal hygiene aisle where he prayed no one would find him buying this cry-for-help vanity spritz.

However.

He sprayed a bit of mist in the air and reveled in that cool, icy scent that wasn’t a scent so much as a feeling. Six degrees chiller in a bottle. The first time he’d tried it (under great duress), he’d griped and bitched and slammed his bedroom door to get away from his howling brothers. Settled on his bed with a frown, he had to admit it did cool him off. It was almost pleasant. The smell wasn’t overwhelming like that tiger piss Butch bathed in on the daily. But it wasn’t out of this world compared to the generic shit he’d been using before.

It wasn’t until Blossom sneezed on their way out of AP Lit that her ice breath—and understanding—hit him with the force of a cold snap to the balls.

“Sorry, did I get you?” she’d said, abashed as she covered her mouth with one hand and fished out a bottle of Purell from her messenger bag with the other. Her ice splatter fast melted on his shoulder as his too-warm body absorbed the cold with a bizarre, but extremely pleasant, shiver down his spine.

Son of a bitch, but he had a kink.

Which, of course, spiraled way the hell out of control when he found himself here months later with a recycled shopping bag he’d brought so he could carry the three bottles of Axe Ice Chill he planned to purchase home, because Brick planned ahead and liked to keep his bathroom well-stocked.

Which also, of course, was why at that very moment, fate decided to punch him in the dick.

“Bubbles, you have, like, fourteen bottles of shampoo at home! You don’t need another one,” Buttercup groused at 8 in the goddamned morning on a Sunday.

“Those are all different products, not just shampoo. Honestly, Buttercup.” Bubbles zipped into the aisle with Buttercup on her tail just at the moment Brick had his second panic attack in the span of five minutes and completely lost his shit.

He launched the bottle of Axe Ice Chill so hard into the ceiling that it lodged in there tighter than a prairie-dogging turd.

“Brick?” Blossom’s hand on his shoulder nearly sent him yeeting after his abused body spray, if the sheer mortification didn’t rob him of further motor function and exactly one hundred percent of his brain cells.

Like her sisters, she wore a jacket over her pajama pants. They must have just popped over for some last-minute breakfast staples and a side of peer humiliation. But even in those criminally hideous Ugg boots and five boxes of pancake mix in her shopping basket at 8 on a fucking Sunday morning, her smile glowed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he returned lamely, because that was all she was getting from him until his neurological functions rebooted.

“Hi, Brick,” Buttercup said, suspicious like usual and searching for some excuse to bust his balls for a laugh. “What’re you doing here?”

The Super sisters had cornered him in front of the Teen Spirit, which came in an absolutely frightful eighteen scents because there was nothing pubescent teenagers needed more than eighteen reassurances that their social survival depended on smelling like a potpourri candy bar.

“Shopping, obviously,” Bubbles said. “Ooh, Brick, you have straight hair. What do you think?” She held up two bottles of brightly colored free-range, organic hair shit.

“I think I was just leaving,” he managed.

“Empty-handed?” Buttercup peered at him like he might transform into a literal dick with ears if she only managed not to blink for long enough. He could smell the threat of a joke on her.

“They didn’t have the brand I wanted.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Bubbles said, genuinely stricken.

“Girls, let’s get going. I really want those pancakes,” Blossom said.

“We better grab more syrup. Buttercup finished it all,” Bubbles said, already moving away. She dropped both hair products in Blossom’s basket, not bothering to choose between them.

“Oh please, everybody knows you and the Professor are the syrup fiends in this house.” Buttercup floated after her and waved to Brick. “Hey, tell that shithead to answer my texts. He owes me $20.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said, fully intending not to mention anything about this conversation to Butch at all.

“Sorry about your favorite brand being sold out,” Blossom said.

It’s fine, he would have said had she not caught his cheek in her hand and pressed a frosty kiss to the corner of his lips before he could do anything about it. Frozen fernlings crept over his cheek and chin, down his neck, and slowly absorbed through his now flushed skin, and he shivered. Without even thinking about it, he reached for her, but she was already walking away to catch up with her sisters.

When she got to the end of the aisle, she shot him a cheeky grin over her shoulder and had the nerve to wink at him. “Stay cool, Brick.”

Red in the face and high on her, Brick just stood there like an idiot gawking at his kind of unofficial girlfriend and the singular dominating object of his fantasies, be they sexual or otherwise. What was dignity when she smiled at him like that? What was a paltry imitation in a bottle when she kissed him like that?

The paltry imitation fell from its hole in the ceiling and exploded on the tiled floor at Brick’s feet with a winter ferocity that, in that moment at least, rivaled Blossom’s in the heat of battle.

When Brick got home later that morning and Boomer asked him why he smelled like a snowman’s asshole, Brick burned the clothes on his back and spent the next half hour in the shower thinking about how he was going to convince Blossom to make the first move and finally make them official.

xxx

Y’all better appreciate the research that went into this fic. That Axe quiz is real and I took it pretending to be Brick, and it literally does spit out a photo of a dude wearing a clown nose in a club. If that’s not a sign from the Daddy that I’ve chosen the righteous path, then idk what is. Sacrifices to my Chrome search history were made for this fic in the name of celebrating Carrie, ergo, worth it.

#Blossick #PPG Reds #Blossom #Brick #Powerpuff Girls #PPG Fanfic #Powerpuff Girls Fanfiction #february fic prompts #ppg shook

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dessarious · 5 years ago

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The Angel of Death Pt19

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

That afternoon found Tris wandering the streets of Paris. She was wearing a hoodie and gator both to conceal her face and so there was enough pocket room for the Kwami. She had a specific destination in mind but she was trying hard not to think about it. Instead she concentrated on the threads she could see everywhere. It was one more thing she hadn’t told Fu but the Kwami had tried to explain it to her.

There were threads connecting everything in the world around them. The strings that formed between people were an example. Everyone could see the strings that were important to them but in truth there were so many more they couldn’t see. Tris could see all of them now and while it was still a bit overwhelming it was actually helping her to interact with and understand the world around her. Rather than trying to read people themselves she could look at the threads connecting them to everything around them.

Granted she still had no idea what they meant most of the time but she was learning, and it was far easier to figure out the threads than actual people. Different people showed emotions and other tells in different ways but the threads for any given situation were the same. She’d figured out that friendship was a pale green. All her roommates shared it though it was being wrapped in another that was close to a navy blue and she had no idea what it was. Tikki said it meant that their relationship with each other was on the verge of changing but seemed reluctant to tell her how exactly. It was frustrating, but still better than dealing with making the same determinations based on how people interacted with the world around them. She was so busy considering different colors and how they connected and intertwined that she ended up at her destination without realizing it.

Looking at the building she could feel a tightness in her chest and it wouldn’t go away. She knew from her research that it wasn’t occupied. The owner sent someone once a month or so to clean and make sure no repairs were needed but other than that no one went in. She noticed that the school nearby was letting out students, and realized how late it was, but she still just stood there. For some reason she couldn’t decide if she wanted to leave or go in.

“I thought you’d end up here at some point.” She frowned at the words before turning to see Chloe staring at her with...concern? Or maybe pity. That’s why she preferred to look at the threads, they were less confusing.

All the threads coming from Tris were gray except one that was a deep purple and one that was an inky black. The purple was the color of a strong familial bond and she knew it connected to her Nona. From her observations, that shade of black denoted a deep mutual hatred. She assumed Talia was on the other end which was a shame since she'd hoped the woman had died along with her son.

Gray seemed to denote that the person impacted your life in some way without becoming something significant. The lighter the gray the less the impact. Most people in big cities had an immense number of light gray strings. People you walked by on the street, the cashier that rang you up at the store, this driver that took you to the airport… all minor interactions most people don't pay attention to.

The string between her and Chloe was growing darker by the day and on Chole's end was turning the pale green that she shared with her friends. Tris wasn't certain what to think of it.

"It looks exactly the same as I remember." And it did. Staring at the building across the street brought a wave of nostalgia she hadn't expected. Even cold and lifeless, it was still home. Chloe looked around to see how close people were and lowered her voice.

"Your Nona has someone come in to clean and see if any repairs are needed once a month but otherwise no one's lived there." Tris knew that. Had hacked into a number of databases to find it out actually.

"How do you know that?"

"Once a year she goes to see Daddy and the police to try and get your missing persons case reopened. The last couple years I've talked to her, first because I needed to apologize to someone for the way I treated you and then because she seemed to enjoy talking about you so much.” Tris frowned at the tightness in her chest.

“If she’s been trying to get them to reopen the case I’m sure she’s told them that our string is still there so why does everyone think I’m dead?” Chloe let out a tired sigh.

“Because no one else can verify it. Given what happened to your parents everyone seems convinced that she’s a bit delusional. She wants the string to be there so she sees it. They say that losing her entire family in one night was too much for her so since your body wasn’t found she can pretend your string was still there. I always thought it seemed weird and she never seemed crazy to me but everyone else told me you were dead.” She supposed that made sense, but they obviously didn’t know her Nona very well if they thought she’d snap like that.

“I don’t get why she doesn’t just sell the place. It must be a huge annoyance to maintain it.” Chloe blinked and looked at her in shock. Tris couldn’t figure out why.

“Wait… don’t tell me you haven’t contacted her?” Tris just shook her head. “Why not?! Do you have any idea how worried about you she is.”

“Better she be worried than disappointed in what I’ve become.” Her son was dead and her granddaughter had become just like the monster who’d killed him. No good could come from that meeting.

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@kceedraws @theatreandcomicfreak @krispydefendorpolice @magic-miraculous @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @northernbluetongue @interobanginyourmom @rebecarojas07 @dast218 @abrx2002 @damianette-is-life @yin-390 @fontegagrilledcheese @bigpicklebananatree @tbehartoo @nobodyw8s4evr @linim2503 @ladybug-182 @marinettepotterandplagg @daminett4life @thethirdwheelfriend @corabeth11 @emotionalsupportginger @shizukiryuu @toodaloo-kangaroo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @sassakitty @my-name-is-michell @multplelifes @sassydepression @danielslilangel @winter-gardenflower @animegirlweeb @romanoff-queen @nanakeid @paradoxal-occurance @theg0ddesspersephone @hinata3487 @irontimetravelflower @the-real-gingakid @heaven428 @peachedpocky @justafanwarrior @gentlemanoftimetravel @18-fandoms-unite-08 @kittycatwowmeow @pale-lady-dreamer @i-is-mysterious @captainartsypants @write-for-your-life2 @queengeorgiaaa @schrodingers25 @thecaptainthunder @elspethshadow @stela-likes-drawing @loysydark @lozzybowe @renscorpio @elmokingkong @the-fusionist @tis-i-beanbandit @smolplantmum @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees @colorfulmongerpsychicranch

#maribat #marinette dupen chang #assassin mari #kidnapped au

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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years ago

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Shigaraki catching feels for a brand new up and coming pro hero who, upon approaching, out of pure curiosity on his part, she acts completely civil to him, pretending to not even know Tomura- until they bid goodbye, and she says his name. When he asks what kind of idiot she was to go on talking so casually and relaxed to a villain, and in response she just says “maybe because I see something in you, that you don’t”. Leaving him to ponder. 👏🏼

~Ahh this is cute...! ❤ I made like, a whole fic from this concept because I liked it so much.

Shigaraki x Female Pro Hero! : The Angel.

It had been a long winter. Crime was exhausting every hero through the long and seemingly endless cold nights. Muggings, break ins and violent assaults had heros stretched thin during the daylight hours. Even darker crimes were happening at night, organized crime rising up from the sewers and sticking it's fingers into the lives of everyday people just trying to make a living.

The police had open investigations of all kinds, heros offered their hands in whatever they could, but even the most seasoned pros were beginning to burn out.

But then you appeared.

Your quirk wasn't entirely flashy in terms of power, but the media gripped onto you tightly and plastered your name everywhere, sending your popularity through the roof with little idea of your actual identity.

"This just in, another hostage situation diffused by The Angel. Within minutes of arriving on scene, the villain walked with his hands over his head into the waiting line of police. We were unable to catch an interview this time, but stay tuned as our panel discusses what we THINK her favorite type of coffee is. This was channel 56, at 11."

Your specialty? Empathy. Your quirk was difficult to pinpoint, and you're even more difficult to recognize. When meeting a person you have the ability to pick up on what they needed to hear the most with ease. The more a person has struggled, or was in mental despair, the easier it was for you to pry into their head and decipher what they need.

Villains could be talked into letting someone go, or stopping in their path of destruction completely.

But how? What if even hearing exactly what they needed didn't work, because they were too far gone?

"We have a situation. Send in The Angel." The chief of police was standing corralled in a busy town plaza with a large group of innocent by standers watching. There was a murmur of panic standing amongst the harsh cold, citizens doing their best to stay calm and collected while waiting for instructions on where to go and what to do. After they heard the chief speak into his walkie talkie people looked upwards, expecting a beautiful vision to appear from the sky.

They hadn't even noticed you appear beside him with a sweet look on your face. Your white dress was hidden by your over coat, and a set of fluffy ear muffs sat on your head. "Hello officer. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, you startled me." Every time the chief had seen you before, the glimpses he'd caught from between the cracks of buildings and dusty windows of a crime scene you had looked different. You looked like a normal girl today, but weren't you a bit older last week? Oh no that doesn't make sense because you were much younger a month ago, and had different hair. "Well uh." He cleared his throat composing himself, your eyes pleasant but piercing. "There was a small explosion from inside that cafe. It's been closed for hours, but we believe the janitorial staff is still inside with whoever set off the fire. There's no open flames, but a ransom note was just sent to my pager. Whoever it is, won't let anybody go until we wire them an obscene amount of money." He looked over your face, you had a look of concern, but you didn't seem frightened or intimidated at all.

"Sir. Why would a villain abduct janitorial staff? A ransom that size can't be random." You couldn't see anything from behind the glass of the darkened cafe.

"We're not sure. We're hoping you can get some information from the perp before sending him out to us."

You stepped into the cafe, the crowds of people not even noticing you slip behind police tape.

But someone noticed you, he had been waiting all night for the plan to finally get into motion. You had the entire country stumped as to who and what you are, but Shigaraki was determined to pin down how you were able to diffuse so many of his plans without any type of violence.

The room is dark, a bit of smoke hanging in the air still, but otherwise the building looked completely normal. Your footsteps were quiet as you looked around for any pieces of the building that might be structurally unsound.

You didn't hear a single voice.

In the kitchen you found the missing staff on the ground, bound and gagged but otherwise unharmed. "Who did this to you?" You asked them after removing all of their bindings. A girl in the middle with piercing yellow eyes spoke up first. "Oh it was horrible! A man burst in here and told us he'd kill us all if we didn't so as we were told."

The two men with her were sort of quiet, saying they don't remember anything happening at all until they woke up like this.

One began to panic, asking if anyone was killed in the explosion. You could feel every piece of his heart calling out, wondering if his wife was worried about him.

To him, you looked a bit like his sister that he's very close with. Your eyes wise and kind, you had the same laugh lines as her, even a chip in your front tooth. "Your wife is outside waiting for you, I'll send you out to the police in just a minute okay?" The minute you spoke the mans tightened chest eased and he could breathe.

The other man seemed okay, just shaken up. You instructed them to walk outside, radioing the chief to let him know you were sending out two hostages.

You looked deep into the heart of the girl with yellow eyes, prying at all of her secrets and deepest traumas until you found what you were looking for.

This girl was not who she said she was.

Suddenly you looked different to her. She gasped and wanted to reach out and touch your face. Your face was beautiful to her, your makeup suddenly cute and colorful. You smiled brightly, the girl forgetting what you looked like before, the memory from just a few seconds ago wiped completely from her mind.

"Hey girly, you must be pretty scared after all of that huh?" You asked. "But I was wondering if you could teach me how you got your hair to look so shiny? I'm super jealous."

Toga was completely enthralled, to her you looked exactly like what she was looking for.

A friend.

Shigaraki had seen enough, just as the chief of police radioed in asking for an update. The two staff members had just informed him that there was supposed to be only the two of them working that night. The chief was ready to send in back up after you.

"How interesting, but the show is over angel."

You felt his presence before the smoke thickened, a bomb of gas going off, sending fumes into your lungs. You heard the giggle of the girl fade, her calling out that she was going to miss you.

The last thing you heard before drifting off into sleep.

You woke up in the hospital, frustrated the villain escaped so easily. The police took your report, finding the entire incident to be strange.

You were given the week off, but it ate you up inside. You had never, in all of your life felt a heart so tangled. A soul so tortured and tired, a mind so broken and beated down.

You had felt evil before, but this was different.

After spending another restless night awake, you decided to head out for a quick walk the minute the sun was up. You sat down in the park, in the summer plenty of people would be out here already jogging and walking their dogs. It was too cold right now, and you were hoping to spend some time alone with your thoughts. One great thing about your quirk is that people walk right past you without a second thought. Something that made you a bit insecure in your younger ages, that when you weren't trying you were utterly invisible.

You closed your eyes to listen to the birds when you felt it.

It was him, he was here. You'd felt hints of him at a distance this whole week, he was always nearby.

A man in a black hoodie approached you, his pants a bit short on him, exposing his ankles when he sat down. You noticed he was wearing childish shoes, not something a hardened criminal would really be seen in.

"Hello Angel." He said, his voice sounding raspy like he might have a cold.

"It's a pretty morning. Out for a walk?" You asked, not even looking his way.

You held back tears, the swarm of hurt coming from his aura overwhelming you. "You know who I am. Why aren't you screaming and running the other way little hero?"

You did know who he was. You didn't realize right away who you were dealing with, but you and every other hero look for him in every situation. The infamous Shigaraki Tomura.

"How did you recognize me?" You asked him.

Shigaraki was confused, not expecting you to answer him with another question. "You're sitting out in the open with no disguise. Why wouldn't I recognize you?" Shigaraki's heart was pounding against his chest. You were the most fearsome thing he had ever encountered, and you were beautiful.

"I appear different to every person I meet." You turned to look Shigaraki in the face. Your look didn't change, in fact he saw your body exactly the same way you did when you looked in the mirror. "I shape shift into exactly what the person is looking for, or what they need to see more than anything. I'm assuming you figured that out with that scheme you pulled."

Shigaraki stopped himself from smiling. "Your power is impressive, it's hard to fight against your own mind."

You pulled and pried at Shigaraki's mind, searching for something to give you the upper hand. If you didn't know better, you'd think him to be harmless. But you've seen the damage he's caused, you needed something, anything to work well enough to get him to follow you to the police.

You didn't find what you were looking for. In fact, you found something you weren't expecting at all.

"I suppose I'll be running into you again, Shigaraki?" You said standing, hoping you were being casual enough that he didn't notice the light blush on your cheeks. "You're not going to try and detain me Angel? I'm alone, you must have found something you can use against me." He couldn't hide his joy anymore, your flustered expression exciting him.

"You know Shigaraki, you recognizing me can only mean one of two things." The villain sat still on the bench with his hands in his pockets, he looked up at you with wild eyes.

"Either you really are mentally powerful, the strongest man to ever exist." You started, your tone sounding like twinkling bells in his ears. "Or you don't know what you're truly looking for." To Shigaraki's surprise you reached out and touched him, a death sentence to most. Your fingers gently brushed against his cheek, feeling his skin under your soft hands for just a second.

You understood what Shigaraki needed more than anything, maybe more than anyone has ever needed something before. You longed to stay with him, but you needed to leave now before you forgot all of the horrible things he's done to others. "So you're just letting an evil villain go?" He sounded like he was trying to tease you, the joking tone foreign coming out of his throat.

"Well maybe I see something in you, that you don't."

Your perfume lingered near Shigaraki for a moment, haunting him. He felt instantly empty the second you turned away.

You thought you had the man figured out completely but Shigaraki laughed in your absence. "How silly little angel..." He said out loud. "I know exactly what I've been looking for."

He took one last breath in through his nose, mentally locking down your smell. "You."

#bnha oc #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #boku no hero academia tomura #tomura x oc #shigaraki x fem #shigaraki x reader #himiko toga #yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader

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allsassnoclass · 4 years ago

Note

i hate that i didn't say hi in that last request. HI hazel what do you think about!! "MY MOM KNITTED YOU A JUMPER" for malum? that sounds like the malum i love!! love u <3

hello hello hello here you go!

Ficmas Day 4

Rating: General Audiences

Read on AO3

Christmas in London is very different from Christmas in Australia. For one thing, there’s snow on the ground. It’s not much, tramped over by boots and mixed with the dirt to create sludge along the streets, but it’s still present on the ground. For another thing, it’s cold. Australian temperatures can dip down in winter, but by December it’s warm again, summer sun heating skin from the moment you step outside. It’s strange to be at the end of December and have to put on a coat outside. It’s also a little colder than Australia ever gets, and Michael finds himself seeking out blankets inside the house and shoving beanies over his hair before he sets foot outside.

It’s also different because Liz is the only parent around. All of them had to barter extensively with their parents to convince them to even let them come to London, and once they realized they probably wouldn’t have Christmas together it prompted a new flurry of discussions about the exact timeline of the move. In the end, professional interest won out over familial traditions, and Michael isn’t upset about heading to London early, but he’s careful not to mention the ache of loneliness in his stomach when he calls home.

He’s not really lonely. He has Calum, Luke, and Ashton, and Liz ensures that they all eat actual meals and get enough sleep and always have someone to turn to when they need a motherly hug. They have a little fake tree with some lights and generic ornaments on it, and Liz has been snatching packages as soon as the post delivers them, shifty about the contents inside. Michael isn’t worried about gifts, because being in London is his Christmas present, and it’s kind of nice to get the full Northern-Hemisphere-Winter-Experience shown in all of the movies.

It would be worse if he didn’t have Calum. It would be worse if he didn’t have all of them, but Calum has always felt like home in a way that few other people ever will. He’s been Michael’s best friend through thick and through thin, and he’s the one who brought Luke into their life and who’s agreement to do the band kick-started their process. Michael can always count on him to cheer him up on bad days and share his happiness on good ones, and living in London is a lot like an extension of the sleepovers they’ve been having since before they hit double-digits. The biggest difference is that they’re in separate beds rather than piled sleeping bags on the floor.

On Christmas Eve, Michael wakes up late and spends a long time laying in his bed, debating whether he should bother getting up or let himself melt into his mattress. Luke and Liz had plans for the day that they had suggested dragging everyone else along for, but Luke’s bed is empty and Michael can’t hear other activity in the house, so they probably left already. Michael doesn’t mind. He’s been tramping around London a lot lately, and a day to recharge is fine with him.

When his stomach finally growls, he heaves himself out of bed, throwing back the covers and shivering at the change in air temperature. He needs socks. He needs long sleeves. It's winter in England, and that is not conducive to getting out of bed right now.

He manages to find socks that smell clean and a t-shirt that seems passable. Hunger pushes him towards the kitchen before an acceptable hoodie can be found, but he can always sneak into the other room and steal one of Calum's. Calum's hoodies tend to be some of the most comfortable, and he guards them carefully. He always lets Michael keep it on if he's caught wearing one, though, which is more than can be said for the other two.

Calum enters the kitchen once Michael's toast pops. Michael has an irrational fear that the toaster popping will startle him bad enough to bite the tip of his tongue off, so he's partially thankful that Calum makes his appearance then and distracts him, even if his presence startles him more than the toast ever could.

"I didn't know you were home," he says in answer to Calum's raised eyebrows.

"Liz took Luke and Ashton. They'll be gone all day."

"Doing what?"

Calum shrugs. "I think Liz is still getting presents for the family to send for New Years and wanted Luke to help. Ashton just likes being out of the house."

Ashton is probably trying to find gifts for his own family. Michael already sent some kitschy souvenirs for his parents, although they haven’t reached Australia yet. He'll get them something better later, when he actually figures out what they would appreciate.

"Toast?" he offers.

"I'm making noodles," Calum says.

"Can I have some?"

"Yeah, okay."

Michael hums and slumps against him. Everyone should have a Calum in their lives. He's a space heater and a chef and a great bassist rolled into one, and he's pretty low maintenance. Michael only has to give him undying love to get all of the perks.

They keep a comfortable silence while Calum cooks and Michael eats, enjoying existing together rather than filling the air with mindless chit chat. Michael takes a shower when he finishes his toast, and Calum has the noodles ready when he's done. After lunch, they migrate to the living room, taking advantage of the empty house to finally play Fifa uninterrupted. Calum wins more than Michael, but he's not mad about it however much he pretends to be. Calum is often humble to a fault, so Michael is happy to let him rub these victories in his face.

Calum goes to check the mail while Michael gets more snacks. He comes back with two packages, one that he distractedly puts on the couch and another that he looks at curiously. It's bigger than a shoe box, taped together securely over some colorful paper.

"What's that?" Michael asks.

"From my mum," Calum says. "Your mum sent Liz something."

"What? What is it?"

"I don't know," Calum says. "It's a crime to open someone else's mail."

"But it's from my mum."

"Maybe she and Liz gossip about you. If it's meant for you, you'll get it tomorrow."

Michael pouts. Calum is, unfortunately, very resistant to his pouting. He also takes the package and makes Michael put it in Liz's room before Michael can get too curious and start shaking it. He could still peak, but then he'd have to contend with Calum's disappointed face. That's not something anyone should have to face on Christmas Eve.

"Michael!" Calum calls from the living room. "Get out here!"

"Why?"

"Mum sent you something!"

Michael leaves the package on Liz's bed and tramps back to the living room. Calum grins and holds up a dark blue sweater with two white stripes stretching around it.

"My mum knit you a jumper!"

"For me?" he asks. Calum nods enthusiastically.

"Put it on," Calum says. "She wants a picture."

He holds out the jumper, letting Michael slip his hands in the arms and helping him pull it over his head. It's a little big, spacious and comfortable, and the yarn is soft. Michael doesn't know the difference between any of the stitches, but they're fun and feel fancy.

"She said she made it big so we can grow into them."

Calum pulls another jumper out, just like Michael's except in green. When he puts it on, Michael resists the urge to help fix his hair, unruly from the static.

"I can't believe your mum knit me a jumper," Michael says.

"She's going to do one for Luke and Ashton, too, but she wanted to get yours done quickly. She said you're an ice cube in our winters, so she was worried about how you were handling this one."

Michael feels a rush of affection for Joy Hood. The entire Hood family is his favorite family besides his own, even without considering the fact that Calum is his favorite person.

Calum snaps a selfie, tilting his phone so they both fit in frame. Michael presses close, faces centimeters away, and ensures that his grin is bright and happy, trying to push as much gratitude into one picture as possible. Calum doesn’t step away while he sends it and Michael once again leans against him.

“Tell her I love it,” he says, looping his arms around Calum’s waist. He slips his hands under the hem of Calum’s shirt and presses them against his stomach, making him squirm and swear.

“Get your icicle hands off me!” he laughs, but Michael has a grip now and doesn’t let him go until they’re tumbling onto the couch in a tangled, giggly mess.

“Still want to play another round?” Calum asks once he catches his breath. Michael considers it, but he can’t properly cuddle with Calum if he has to hold a game controller, so he shakes his head.

“Movie?” he suggests instead. Calum shrugs and grabs the remote, shutting down the game and switching the input so they can browse through Netflix. Michael stretches out and Calum fits himself against him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to cover their legs. It’ll probably get too warm about thirty minutes into whatever they decide to watch, but for now it’s perfect. Michael tucks himself lower into his sweater and pulls Calum closer to him, savoring every piece of warmth he can get.

#my writing #malum #5sos fanfic #ficmas 2020 #hey did you guys know that I love malum #because I do!#also apologies Taylor I got this out later than I wanted and you might be asleep? or getting ready to sleep?#if so hope you enjoy getting this gift in the morning #fun fact I looked up whether Australia says sweater or jumper #it seems like jumper might be it?

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nahoyaglock · 4 years ago

Text

Frobi selfship headcannons

!!sfw!!

shigabi, tenfro, fronaka, frobishima, inuobi, frokuto, aobi, frotani, fromi, ushibi, frobinoya, katsubi hcs

a/n: sorry for these long ass headcanons, i hope yall enjoy them tho?? also sorry for the reoccurring mention of my terrible paranoia </3 im going through a hard time w it rn, pls excuse me

reblogs on selfship posts are super appreciated!

shigabi

video games

i am his baby! he has a soft spot for me :3

lets me sit in his lap while he plays video games

hc that shigaraki is a twitch streamer instead of a villain and he streams with me on his lap

messy hair, black headset, pajama pants and a black hoodie vs pink tank top, white skirt, pink bows and a fuzzy blanket

we own cats named wario and waluigi >:3

we play ow and animal crossing together

he plays shooters and horror games while i play otome games and rhythm games

watching happy feet and cuddling, lets me lay between his legs as he plays with my hair

calls me brat and baby

cooks me seafood

some days i want him to baby me, other days we go run around at 4am

teases me bc of my height, leanes down to give me kisses

randomly tugs on my hair and pretends he didnt do it throught the day

i kick his ugly ass ankles /j

tenfro

baking, cuddling, horror movies and videos games 24/7

both bullied so we confine in each other and comfrt the other well

hes very caring so he always checks in, even when i seem fine

notices my mood changes

"do you need a hug?" and just hugs me bc he knows i do

he likes to rest his head on my chest when he rants to me

booping noses and interlocked hands ♡

ushijima gives us rides everywhere

their manager, so i have to make sure tendou does well

the other team members are happy im dating tendou, especially ushijima

sitting with tendou on the bus to their matches

kisses and hugs after every match and practice match

lets me wear his jersey bc he hates when other guys look at me

one time terushima tried to flirt w me and he made ushi scare him away

fronaka

hand on ass always.

tries to fight any guy that even comes near me

me, ryu and noya, the trio !

walks me to class with his arm around my waist

basically bestfriends to lovers so we spemd all our time together like we did before we were dating

still a slight kiyoko simp but lmao so am i, we admire her beauty together

brags to the team about me, telling them random things about me

"frobis favorite food are clams!" crosses gis arms proudly

"ryuu, you dumbass" insert me slapping the back of his bald head

saeko teasing him and telling him to treat me well

says "hey bae" and probably uses the devil emoji ajxjzjx

plays with my hair, he loves my curls :D

we prolly have a dog, small dog bc ooi dogs scary,, D:

frobishima

always has an arm around me

denki bestie af !

also one that i can relate to so we can share our experiences and comfort each other

top kin so we get along very well and have alot of the same interests

movie nights w/ the bakusquad

cuddling kiri the whole time and making the rest of them feel single

he likes to pinch my shoulder to get my attention

big smiles and playful biting :D

he probably has alot of my clothes left at his house bc i like wearing his shirts

insert kiri cooking while i back hug him <3

likes to princess carry me, and carries me when im sleepy

thigh kisses bc he loves them alot <3

best an comforting, sings me to sleepy and helps me when i have really bad paranoia </3

true loml

inuobi

walk to school together everyday

sometimes we race

brings me a breakfast bar, sometimes his mom makes me a morning snack too

little pecks and hand holding

we're like two energetic puppies in a relationship

i always attend his games and cheer for him and the boys

insert kuroo, tora, kenma, and kai acting like my dads

me and inu doing puppy eyes for little spoon, he usually gives in and takes big spoon

lots compliments and blushing

"inu, y-you look cute today"

"frobi, you look s-stunning"

comfort buddies!

convinces the coach to let me ride on the bus with them to tournaments

sleppys babies on the back of the bus

members have pictures of us sleeping

sharing a blanket that kai gave to us bc the bus was cold and sharing a scarf that inuoka bought me for winter

frokuto

if hes sad, im sad :( if im sad, hes sad :(((

my energy beam, my number one, my ace 🥺

he loves to hold my small hands in his big ones, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb

he'd walk around at tournaments, big star bo with his tiny cute girlfriend

saru, komi, and konoha give me headpats

bo pouts because they didnt guve him head pats

many pats for the ace!! :D

during lunch i hang w him and akaashi, akaashi having to deal w me and bos shenanigans

lowkey, we probably bring him stress

me and bo go on night time adventures, he drives us <3

brings home ramen after a long day of practice

when hes sad he cries into my chest and i play with his hair

"its okay bo, your still my ace" kisses and more kisses and more kisses

he loves to hold my thumbs and kiss my wrists

always looks for me when he has a match, sees me cheering the loudest for him <3

hes my baby, he'll smiles at me and ill cry

aobi

listener

he lets me talk about my interests and day, i let him talk about his

loves to be supportive, my shoulder to lean on

we take public transportation after school to get to our house

he lets me lean against him and sleep, tired from a long day, he'll wrap his large arm around me

he opened up after a while and smiles more, sometimes he'll lightly giggle, one time i made him laugh for 5 whole mins

hes so golden in my eyes, lake dates, he likes to just walk with me

treats me to food whenever we go out

i help him be more open and push him to be himself, but i respect his boundaries !!!

if he feels uncomfortable he'll poke my back gently

i take him away from the uncomfortable situation and ask what was wrong so that it doesnt happen again

people ask why im dating him bc hes "scary"

my response is a punch to the face

jkjk, its none of their business why, but its bc hes very sweet and kind hearted, who couldn't love an angel like my nobu? :]

frotani

complicated hc?? i have like two ways it could go, my top is def still me being a shiratorizawa girl bc lmao canon !!

met him through levy, (@bigger-simp-than-kazuichi) aoba johsais manager

she introduced me to her besyies, kyo and yahaba

"hey, you're the one they call mad dog?" he hates that now but responds with "yes, im mad dog."

levy invites me to alot of their events if im not busy, lowkey oikawa is salty bc im shiratorizawas manager

kyotani stays at my side, we talk about our days and his live for volleyball

we exchange numbers and he messages me at night, we have hour long conversations till one of us falls asleep

late night calls, he just grumbles and scoffs at anything i say and he just waits for me to sleep before hanging up

confesses to me at a match infront of my team, i just kissed him in response

he visits me whenever he can, and brings me food and gifts

imagine aoba johsai vs shiratorizawa, rip kyo lmao ushi get his ass /j

kyotani likes to hold mt hands and wrap my in his jacket and scarf

barks at anyone who bothers me, loves when i sit on his lap btw

fromi

komi will pick me up over his shoulder and drag me to the room when he wants cuddles

loves horror movies, horror movie marathons any time of the year

he likes and kiss my jaw and hold my thumbs

calls me short when he's not that much taller than me

we curse at each other every 5 minutes

insert sarukui climbing through our windows atleast once a month to have a movie marathon with us

komi likes to slap my head

we probably play fight all the time, definently turns into something more intense

akaashi and konoha break us up and me and komi will be confused

"whats wrong? We were just playing"

"yall were strangling each other"

"we're fineee~"

chaotic, we always look like were fighting or arguing

"fuck you, i hate you" "fuck you too bitch"

holds hands and deep kisses the next second

akaashi lowkey hates dealing with us, bokuto loves us skxj

ushibi

shira and hayato convinced me to join at their manager

the original shiratorizawa manager, ceo of the company 😎

they introduced me to the team, and they took a liking to me

ushijima was by my side alot, helped me with my job and carrying thing especially

he was so kind and even spoke to me, asked if i ate, if i slept well, if i needed anything

didn't realize it was different from what he normally was like until tendou asked about it

one time ushi was walking me home and i asked him about it, but he was definently confused

"i, guess so. your attractive and have a good personality. i would date you."

hes so blunt, awkwardly blunt

so we,, started dating, and now he really never leaves my side

i got haterz bc im THE ushiwakas bby girl 🙈

gives me headpats and kisses before everymatch

lets me wear his team jacket, huge on my small figure

he enjoys our height difference, he thinks i look cute when i look up at him :3

teaches me how to play volleyball, even smiles when i land a good serve

patches me up whenever i get hurt, slight frown if i ever fall

hes,, kinda fatherly? a person w no dad calling someone fatherly sjcjxj lmao 🙈🙈

nurturing and caring, ushi i will kiss you, probably calls me by my full name, fro, manager, baby, and sometimes even brat

frobinoya

hes woke, i just know it

all the characters prolly woke but hes woke asf!!

we run around, literally our whole relationship is mainly just running around and being wild

arcade hangouts after school/practice

he loves arcade games so much, and so do i

we take off guard pictures of each other, also chaotic and blurry pictures

he'll kick me in the butt, que me chasing him till i run out of breath

he likes to support my interests, loves to watch me practice dancing

we wear cat ears and maid outfits and take pictures in his room at like 5am when the sun rises

videos of us kissing and cuddling in his gallery

posts on insta to make ryuu jealous

buys me cute skirts bc he knows i love to look pretty for him !!

im his pretty kitty ♡♡

likes to call me his girly~ and his serotonin

holds my hand whenever im feeling sad and strokes my cheek with his thumb

lowkey has a good voice, sings heather to me while he nuzzles his nose into my jaw

katsubi

random kisses throughout the day

pinky holding bc he likes my small hands

leans over me when he wants a kiss

gets teased by the squad and just endures it bc he likes the way i giggle when they do

head pats ! lots :3

likes to show off infront of class 1-b by holding me close and kissing me

brings me lunches he cooked and likes to feed me

always finds an excuse to be on my team for training or being my training buddy

barks at anyone who tries to train with me /j

walking me to school and home, even brings me over

mitsuki loves it whenever i come over and makes cookies when i do

katsuki helps her make the cookies D: so precious

never kisses infront of his parents bc he doesnt want to deal with their teasing and nagging

sings ballads, will sing me to sleep, probably listens to rap and rnb, some rock, but will sing me some khalid since he knows i love him

probably sung me "can i be him" one night when my paranoia got bad <//3

i laid on his chest and he ran his fingertips up and down my back, singing softly to me until i fell asleep

forehead kiss before he drifted to sleep as well, katsuuuu :( <3

@kekozume @nekosvno

#self ships #shigabi #tenfro #fronaka #frobishima #inuobi #frokuto #aobi #frotani #fromi #ushibi #frobinoya #katsubi #frobis.💿

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shawnsassymendes · 5 years ago

Text

Best Friend’s Brother

a/n: sorry man i just love this trope also aaliyah and reader are in college in this thing but shawns the same age. so the difference between shawn and aaliyah would be like idk 2-3 years?

synopsis: your best friend bails on your movie night, so you end up going with her brother.

wc: 3.2k

{Masterlist in Bio}

____________________

You walked up to the front door of your best friend’s childhood home. It was winter break so everyone was back home, leaving a few students at the dorms of the University of Toronto. One of them being you.

Your best friend of almost 10 years now lived in the suburbs that neighboured Toronto. Only a half hour drive from the dorms. You drove up to Pickering every Wednesday and Saturday during break to have your bi weekly movie night with Aaliyah.

You never minded the drive, of course. She was your best friend and you couldn’t bear staying at your dorm with nothing to do all winter break long. You couldn’t really afford a trip back home right now.

“Liyah, I’m here!” You called out as you unlocked the door. You were given a spare key to the Mendes household as soon as you could drive.

“I’m in my room!” Aaliyah yelled out.

You walked up the stairs and entered Aaliyah’s room. She was slipping on a black silk top over her dark wash high waisted skinny jeans. “A bit much for movie night?” You remarked, plopping down on her bed.

“Movie night?” Aaliyah’s knitted brows slowly rose to her hairline. “Oh my god, movie night! I’m so sorry y/n, I thought it was Friday!”

You groaned and tipped your head back. “Liyah, what the hell? Please don’t tell me Jordan’s coming.”

Aaliyah’s face became riddled with guilt. “Jordan’s already outside.” She smiled sheepishly, pointing at her boyfriend’s car through the window.

“I fucking hate you. What the fuck am I gonna do with the tickets?” You pulled out the tickets from your purse and waved them in her face.

“You can go alone? You always said you wanted to try that?” Aaliyah said as he adjusted her bra to show more cleavage.

“Not today I don’t! I’m going with your mom, she’s much better company anyways.” You huffed, getting up to go find Karen.

“Mom’s not here. She’s out with friends.”

“Then who’s home?” You were hoping she would say Manny because movies with him were always entertaining. The answer you really didn’t want her to say was exactly what she did say.

“Just Shawn.” She shrugged before her eyes went wide and a grin spread over her face.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not going. I’ll stay here until you come back and we can watch whatever’s on Netflix until sunrise. I’m not gonna go with him.” You crossed yours arms over your chest and sat on her desk chair.

“But you know you wanna.” Aaliyah smirked, pulling you up from the chair. “This crush has been going on for too long. Come on, if you go with him tonight I’ll take you to the fancy French place for dinner. You know the one, Aubergine du Pompadour.” She said the name of the restaurant with the worst French accent you could imagine, replacing every word with whatever sounded like it fit in.

“Auberge du Pommier.” You rolled your eyes, correcting her. “That place is hella expensive, Liyah. We can’t go. You know I can hardly afford gas.”

“Who said I’d let you pay?” She scoffed. “Shawnie boy gave me his card for Christmas. Told me to go crazy. Consider this part of your Christmas present.” Aaliyah grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Were you really considering this? Yes, definitely. You’ve had a crush on Shawn since forever. He was always nice to you, helping you out whenever he could. But you were sure he just saw you as a little sister.

“Okay.” You whispered, head still tilted back.

“Oh my god, really?” Aaliyah squealed.

“Yeah, but only as friends. I’m not gonna try to do anything. We’re just friends. Just my best friend’s brother.” You confirmed, looking Aaliyah in the eye.

“My best friend’s brother, my best friend’s brother. BFB, BFB, my best friend’s brother is the one for me.” Aaliyah sang in a low voice, not wanting her brother to hear.

“Shut it!” You hissed, struggling not to smile.

“Liyah baby, you ready?” Jordan asked as he walked into the room. “Hey y/n!” He shot you a smile.

“Jordan, you are dead to me.” You replied, picking up a pillow from the bed and throwing it at him.

Jordan caught it with ease. “The fuck did I do?”

“Why are you taking her on a date today? It’s movie night!” You whined, incredibly close to jumping up and down like a toddler having a tantrum.

“Oh shit, sorry y/n. Thought it was Friday.” Jordan winced, placing the pillow back on the bed.

You rolled your eyes and shot him a glare. “What the fuck have you guys been smoking, it’s Wednesday.”

Jordan came up behind Aaliyah and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her torso. “I was telling her, she should go with Shawn.” Aaliyah told her boyfriend, looking up at him.

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” Jordan smiled, looking back at you. “Finally gonna make a move?”

“Not in a million years.”

“Still thinks he sees her as a little sister.” Aaliyah grumbled.

Jordan chuckled. “Mhm, sure. Let’s pretend you two didn’t make out at that-”

“It was one time!” You cut him off, eyes wide. “Besides, he was drunk. Doesn’t even remember it.”

Jordan raised his brows at you, as if to ask if you were serious. “He told you that?”

“Uh, no. He didn’t say anything after, just assumed he forgot.” Your voice trailed off.

“Pfft, alright whatever. We have a reservation we’re gonna be late for.” Aaliyah piped up, looking pointedly at Jordan.

“Yeah, we do. You want me to drop you off at your dorm or are you going to the movie?” Jordan asked, taking his keys out of his pocket.

“No, I’m gonna see if Shawn wants to go. If he doesn’t, I’ll just go home. Have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” You smiled as you handed Aaliyah her coat.

“How about you stay over, eh? We can have a sleepover when we get back.” Aaliyah asked, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She gave you a kiss on the cheek before she left the room, leaving you to your own devices.

You spread yourself out on the bed, listening to Aaliyah and Jordan drive off while you thought of what to do next.

You could always just throw the tickets away. Never ask Shawn and stay the night. Tell Aaliyah he said no and that you went alone. But she would definitely ask Shawn why he said no. And he would be as clueless as ever. She would get pissed that you lied. Ugh too much trouble.

You hopped off the bed and headed to Shawn’s room before you changed your mind. You knocked the door three times and stepped back.

“Coming!” Shawn’s voice could be heard through the door. He opened it and his eyes landed on you, causing a smile to spread across his face. “Hey, y/n. How are you?” He hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“I’m good. How about you? When did you come home?” Small talk wasn’t your favorite, but any words exchanged with Shawn were precious.

“Just a couple days ago. Staying here until Christmas, but then I’m going back to my place. You coming here for Christmas this year?” You were probably just high off of being around him, but it was almost like Shawn sounded hopeful.

“Uh, yeah I am.” You replied, looking down at the carpeted floors. You knew if you explained why, Shawn wouldn’t hesitate to offer you a ticket home and you were in no way going to accept that. So you changed the subject “Listen, I booked two tickets for a movie, but Liyah bailed on me. I was hop-thinking, maybe you would wanna... come with?”

“Of course! I mean uh, yeah sure. When does it start?” Shawn asked, retreating into his room to change out of his sweatpants you assumed.

“We’ve still got plenty of time. Starts in two hours. Liyah and I usually take the long way to listen to more songs. That’s why I’m here so early.” You explained, wiping your palms against your jean clad thighs.

“No worries.” Shawn smiled, looking you over. He perked up when he saw what you were wearing. “Nice hoodie.” He smirked.

You looked down and saw that you were wearing the Pine Ridge hoodie Shawn had given you ages ago. You hadn’t attended Pine Ridge, so Shawn knew it was his. “Don’t get cocky, now.” You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Who said anything about cocky?”

“That look on your face says cocky. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

Your conversation with Aaliyah and Jordan echoed in your mind as you walked down the stairs. It was like they knew something you didn’t. It was like they knew for certain that Shawn liked you back. But that was impossible. Maybe they were bluffing to get you to act on your feelings. But Jordan... how did Jordan know about the kiss?

Shawn kissed you at his birthday party during the summer. It was so abrupt and sudden and he was pulled away immediately afterwards, leaving you all alone. After Shawn made no attempt to contact you the day after, you kept it a secret for so long. You told Aaliyah a full two months after it happened. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone, and Aaliyah never breaks her promises. So who the hell told Jordan?

“Your car or mine?” Shawn’s words broke your train of thought, shaking you out of your trance to look at him pulling on his shoes on the staircase.

“Yours, I’m all outta gas.” You chuckled.

“You gonna be okay to go home?” You couldn’t help but feel a few butterflies batting their wings in your stomach at the slight protectiveness you were getting from him.

“I’m staying over, but I’ll figure something out tomorrow. Come on, I have a playlist in mind.” You skipped your way out of the house, scrolling through your phone to find the playlist.

You walked to the passenger side of Shawn’s Jeep, waiting to hear him unlock the car. When you heard the beep, you pulled the car door open only for it to still be locked. You looked up to find Shawn standing near the Tesla and not the Jeep.

“I thought we could take this one for tonight. We always use the Jeep.” Shawn shrugged.

“That’s because I love the Jeep. Come on Shawn, you know I’m not one for fancy shit.” You looked at him and nodded towards the Jeep one more time.

“Whatever you want, honey.” There they were again, those pesky butterflies.

You climbed into the car and connected your phone to the car bluetooth. You hit shuffle on the playlist you had ready as Shawn buckled up.

“I love this song.” Shawn smiled, head bopping to the melody. Shawn looked at the screen that he had installed where the radio used to be. “Is the playlist called Shawn?”

“Yup.”

“Why do you have a playlist called Shawn?”

“I have a playlist ready for anyone I might be in a car with. There’s Liyah, there’s Jordan, there’s Liyah and Jordan. I have their song on there ‘cause the look on their faces when it comes on is so adorable. And one for my mom and your mom and you know, a lot of people.” You scrolled through your playlists, naming them and explaining little things about each one.

“That’s cute.” Shawn pointed out. “The thing about Aaliyah and Jordan. That you know their song. I don’t even know their song.”

“Mm, perks of being the best friend.”

You and Shawn easily slipped into conversation, stopping every once in a while to sing along loudly to any particular song. You noticed half an hour into the drive that the 15 minute ride to the movie theater was taking much longer than usual. Shawn was taking the long way...

When you arrived, there was about 10 minutes left before the movie would start. Shawn missed a lot of turns apparently. You walked in and got your snacks and beverages and went to your screen.

You had no clue why you had booked this movie because it was the cheesiest rom-com you had ever seen. It came to the point where it was a full on comedy for you. You were glad Aaliyah hadn’t come with you to see it because she would have hated it. Shawn however, found it absolutely hilarious.

You snickers kept getting you glares and loud hushes to be quiet from the movie goers around you.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here? The park’s like two minutes away.” Shawn whispered into your ear about halfway through the movie.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You snickered. You let Shawn take your hand and lead you out of the cinema.

You walked in a comfortable silence towards the park nearby, hands still intertwined. But you weren’t the one keeping track.

“We used to come to this park all the time in high school, remember?” Shawn reminisced, holding out a swing for you. You slipped on and nodded for Shawn to get on the one next to you.

“I remember. I miss those nights. We were such kids.” You chuckled, digging your boot covered feet in the snow beneath you.

“Tell me about it.” Shawn scrunched his nose. “I had my first kiss here. I think it was 8th grade.”

“No way, me too!” You smiled, turning to Shawn. “Who was yours?”

“Betty Stevens. You?”

“Jordan.” You grimaced.

“What? No way!” Shawn laughed. “Does Aaliyah know?”

“Of course she does! I would never do that to her. It was spin the bottle back in 9th grade. He was super sweet about it, though.” You smiled, remembering him asking if you were okay with it.

Shawn scoffed. “Why the hell were a bunch of freshmen playing spin the bottle at a public park?”

“I honestly don’t remember.” You laughed. “Remember that bonfire we had at the beach one time. It was a bunch of your friends and Liyah and I tagged along. The one where Brian stripped and jumped into the freezing water. That’s one of my favorite memories, you know?”

“I remember that night. Me too, but the Brian part isn’t what makes it one of my favorite.” Shawn smiled, inching his swing closer to yours.

“Ugh, shut up. You know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes in response, hitting his boot with your own. “That night, when everyone left and it was just you, me, and Liyah. And we just talked all night long. Didn’t come home till the sun was up. I love that memory.”

“My mom got so mad at me that night. For keeping you guys out all night long to watch the sunrise.” Shawn chuckled, his hand now holding one chain from his swing and one from yours.

“You never told me that.”

"It didn’t matter because it was so worth it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you love watching the sunrise.”

You and Shawn walked back to the car, hand in hand. The drive home just as long as the drive to the theater, and just as full of butterflies.

When you got home, you slowly unlocked the front door as to not wake anyone up. Tip toeing up the steps until you reached Aaliyah’s room.

“y/n?” Shawn whispered, taking both of your hands into his. “Do you wanna go on a date?”

“Like a date date?” You whispered back, eyes blown wide.

“Mhm, at the Auberge du Pommier. I know you’ve been wanting to go.” Shawn nodded.

“I have.” You replied.

“Friday at 8. Is that okay with you?” He asked.

“It’s perfect, Shawn. Thank you for coming with me tonight. I had a wonderful time.” You whispered, smile evident in your voice as it was concealed in the darkness.

“Me too.” Shawn leaned down and kissed you lightly on your lips. “Friday at 8. I’ll pick you up.”

And with that he walked down the hall and into his room. You slowly brought your hand up and traced your cupid’s bow. It was like your lips were on fire.

You slowly opened the door to Aaliyah’s room and sat down in her desk chair. You couldn’t believe it. This had to be a dream.

Your phone pinged and you numbingly took it out of your pocket. You had to read the screen a few times before your brain processed what was in front of you.

jordan: how did it go tonight?

you: it was good

jordan: good?

you: fine it was great

you: listen i need to ask you something

jordan: shoot

you: how did you know about the kiss?

jordan: well

jordan: he told me

You put your phone on the charger and began rummaging through Aaliyah’s closet to find something to sleep in.

Shawn told him. That means Shawn never forgot.

You climbed into bed next to Aaliyah, who was fast asleep until you did so. “Hey, you’re back. How did it go?”

“It was good. How about you?” You pulled the blanket Aaliyah was hogging and brought it up to your chin.

“It was really nice. We went to the cutest restaurant and they started playing our song as soon we got in. Felt like it was a sign from the universe.” Aaliyah smiled, eyes closing as she slowly drifted back to sleep.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Listen, if you still wanna go to the Pompadour restaurant, tell me so I can call in advance. You know how busy those types of restaurants get around Christmas.”

“Actually, I’m gonna go with Shawn next Friday.”

It was like you flipped a switch because Aaliyah’s eyes flew wide open. “What?!”

“Shh, go to sleep. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

“You can’t just say that and expect me to fall asleep.” She groaned.

“Goodnight, Liyah.” You grinned.

You tossed and turned all night. Well not literally, otherwise Aaliyah would have murdered you. But you stayed up all night thinking about the kiss Shawn gave you before he went to his room. There was no way you could mistake it any longer. Shawn was definitely into you. You couldn’t believe it.

You had managed to fall asleep for about an hour before the sun came up. The sunlight filtering in through the window woke you up, making you regret not closing the blinds the night before.

You grabbed your things and trudged downstairs. You grabbed a muffin from the breakfast table where Karen was already sitting. You gave her a hug and a wave goodbye and headed to your car.

As you sat down, you remembered you were almost fully out of gas. No way was the little bit left in the tank from last night going to be able to get you home.

You looked down at the gas gauge only to see your tank was completely full. You looked up and saw a sticky note on the rearview mirror.

figured something out for you -s

____________________

part 2

thankyou for reading my lovelies. i thought of this like a day ago or something idk but i also had bfb by victoria justice stuck in my head for a while so this is what came of it. pls dont forget to leave feedback! @shawncxlvins here it is love!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x yn #shawn mendes x you #shawn peter raul mendes #aaliyah mendes

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