#Not quite sure how someone found this out because I’ve looked online before and couldn’t figure it out

[i-may-be-an-emu]

Hey in case anyone wanted to know their heights :D

Tom: 195cm (6”4.8)

AJ: 186cm (6”1.22)

Sam: 178cm (5”10.08)

Luke: 172cm (5”7.71)

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

so happy for you about the qpr!! that’s just wonderful news! wishing u all the best <3

Thankyou! I truly appreciate your sweet words. 

I want to use this as an opportunity to talk about how this non-traditional relationship came to be - mostly because I love talking about him, but also because I feel queerplatonic relationships need to be talked about more! 

So, what is a queerplatonic relationship? It isn’t really one specific type of relationship with a strictly defined set of rules or boundaries. It is an umbrella term for “non-romantic significant-other relationships”… so, emotionally intimate relationships that fall neither into the category of a “typical romantic relationship” nor into the category of a “typical platonic friendship”. This is not so much about behavior but about the feelings of the people involved. The way one queerplatonic relationship looks like  (activities, language, touch, future planning etc.) can be completely different from the next, it’s all about what works for you! 

The term “queerplatonic relationship” (or qpr) originated in the aromantic community, but you don’t need to be aromantic to be in one. 

I am not aromantic, Alex (name changed for privacy) is. When we met, I didn’t know that yet. We met online. Not on a dating app, we just found each other over shared interests, so romance wasn’t on my mind. We became online friends and found out we actually live close to each other. As time went on, I felt like there was a lot of chemistry and some mutual attempts of awkward flirting, so I decided to ask him on a date. And he said yes! 

We grew closer, my feelings for him grew and quite honestly, in the deep corners of my heart it was already a fact that we would become a couple. We didn’t call each other boyfriend yet but it was only a matter of making it official. Really just a matter of asking… and so it hit me like a brick when I scrolled through social media and saw him coming out as aromantic. 

I’ll admit that I didn’t handle it well. I felt blindsided by him not telling me directly and carried this feeling into our conversation about it which led to it not going well. I should’ve given him time to explain and given us space to figure out together what this means for us. If I did, I would’ve learned that it was a new realization for him as well and that he himself was not sure yet what it meant - but I didn’t. I jumped to assumptions and felt bitter about them. 

After fruitless discussions turned into a fight, we made the hard decision to stop talking. We were both heartbroken about it but it just seemed like a situation with no solution. He didn’t want a traditional romantic relationship, I didn’t want a traditional friendship. We did briefly talk about a queerplatonic relationship but we both couldn’t imagine how that’d work. Would that essentially just be a traditional relationship/friendship by a different name? 

For two weeks, I cried into my ice cream. Kept checking his social media secretly even though we mutually agreed to unfollow each other before the split. Went back on dating apps and went out on a virtual date with the first poor guy who said yes and hated every second of it. Texted Alex about it in some shitty attempt to make him jealous. Cried some more. Until I found a list in my notes that I had made months earlier, with all the things I like about him. 

This list made me think I can’t lose him like this - I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him in my life at all. I sent him the list and was relieved to learn that he missed me just as much. After some (much more mature) discussion, we agreed to just be platonic friends. 

One of the first “normal ” conversations we had after our split - normal meaning a topic that wasn’t related to attraction or identity or relationship status - was just us talking about a tv show he used to watch as a kid. This has become a fond memory of a realization that is hard to put in words: I’ve always been someone who wants clear definitions and labels. But there’s beauty in things being undefined as well. In that moment, we weren’t a specific label. We were just us. And us, our unique dynamic, is what I fell in love with - regardless of how we name it. 

So, we named it friends and that worked great. But one thing kept bothering me: With a friend, even a best friend, it’d be silently assumed that you may pursue other people romantically. You can have a best friend and a boyfriend, you’re not taken by your best friend. This wasn’t a matter of jealousy - Alex wasn’t interested in pursuing other people romantically anyway and I don’t mind that he has other close friends. This was about me, not him. I didn’t want this to be a situation where I’m assumed to potentially pursue others. I want to be taken because that’s how I feel. I’m not open to dating someone else, Alex is my significant other even when it’s not a traditional romantic relationship. 

I reached out to other aromantic people online and talked to them about these feelings. They encouraged me to talk to him about this and suggest an individually defined relationship to him - one that isn’t based in romance but has the level of commitment I feel. Communication is key, they said, you two can set your own rules. 

And that’s exactly what we did! I wrote him a letter and put these feelings to paper, and asked him if he wants to have an individually defined relationship with me, be my friend I’m in love with and am committed to, and he said yes! 

(We don’t usually use the term queerplatonic in our everyday conversations, I just use it as a practical umbrella term here - we like to keep it a undefined unique relationship status) 

[lei-lei-writez]

Chapter 2: Kashton

Kashton laid in his bed, struggling to wake up, his exhaustion taking over. That’s when his alarm went off again, after hitting snooze for the millionth time.

“Damn it…” He sat up groggily and rubbed his eyes. It was still quite early so he had plenty of time to get ready for school. He stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom, turning on the shower and getting in.

Kashton’s life wasn’t the most eventful, he didn’t have much to think about. He thought about what would be going on today, homework was due, he’d might hang out with his friends, maybe even hit the gym, all that kind of stuff. The warm water from the shower really helped soothe his muscles after his workout from yesterday.

As he stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to his room. He threw on a tank top and a pair of sweatpants for his outfit, nothing too crazy. He went to the kitchen where he made a smoothie for his breakfast and headed back up to his room.

Surprisingly the flavour combo for the smoothie he made today wasn’t that bad, he’d saw a recipe online and decided to try it. As he drank his smoothie he checked his phone, looking through his social media.

He checked his Snapchat, continuing his Snapstreaks and checking stories. “Amy and her boyfriend…Damian got food, shocker. Layton and Xavier…” He paused as he saw Layton’s story, she was with Xavier.

Kashton hated Xavier. He didn’t like how they were dating, Kashton had many bad feelings about him.

“Damn it…Layton, I wish you’d just leave him…”

He frustratedly put his phone in his pocket and picked up his backpack, putting his smoothie cup in the sink and heading out the door.

Kashton didn’t live very far from his school, it was only about a 5 minute walk, as he’d walk some other kids would wave to him or say hello to him, nothing too special.

Once he’d make it to school, he’d go to his class and prepare for the lesson. He’d try to pay attention in his classes, waiting for the lunch bell to ring. Once it did, he headed off to look for Layton.

As he walked down the hall he bumped shoulders with someone and out of all people, it was Xavier.

“Hey! Watch it, Kash!” Xavier also hated Kashton too, but they never showed it in front of Layton. “It’s not a big deal, calm the hell down!” Kashton said in a defensive tone. He gave Xavier another quick shove before continuing to find Layton.

Finally after a bit of searching, he found her, she waved and he waved back, giving her a smile. Sure, he felt like a third grader with all these feelings he had for Layton but they were just how he genuinely felt.

He then suddenly felt himself being shoved out of the way by Xavier, of course. Every time he saw Xavier he just wanted to rip him to shreds, not just because he had Layton but because he was just a terrible person yet Layton couldn’t ever see that. Because Xavier would hide it around her.

Kashton could hear the conversation that Xavier was having with Layton. He could hear all the nonsense spewing out of his mouth while he had to listen. Layton would occasionally say something herself and would even laugh, why couldn’t he be the one to make her laugh?

“Alright bae, I’ve gotta go, I promised I’d eat with my friends today.” Layton understandingly nodded “Alright, love you.” “Love you too.” Xavier gave her a peck on the cheek and headed off, smirking cockily at Kashton while doing so.

“So…you wanna eat lunch with me, Kashton?”

He immediately accepted “Yeah, of course.”

She began walking off to a spot in the cafeteria, Kashton following behind. Once they found a table, they began to eat the shitty food that was served.

“So, Layton? How is volleyball going?”

Layton stopped picking at her food “Oh it’s going great. My team is in division 3 which basically means we are definitely one of the better teams.”

Kashton nodded “Yeah, I still remember how badly I did in gym class during volleyball…”

Layton smiled “Hey, you weren’t that bad, I mean, everyone starts somewhere. I can teach you after school if you’d want to get more into it.”

Kashton smiled and he felt his face getting slightly warm, he always liked hanging out with Layton after school. “Yeah that’d be nice! And when hockey season comes around, I could show you how to skate.” Layton chuckled “You and your hockey stuff, I swear you’re obsessed.” Kashton shrugged “I guess you could say that.”

She smiled and looked down at her plate of whatever kind of mush she had been served, her face saddening. Kashton caught on to this immediately “Hey? What’s wrong?” Layton looked up at him “Oh, nothing. Just tired, I guess.” Kashton saw it in her facial expression that there was more to just ‘being tired’ but he didn’t want to question her any more. Eventually the bell rang and it was time to get back to classes.

During one of his classes which he was totally paying attention to, he decided to text Layton about hanging out after school. She knew she was also most likely not paying attention so he’d might as well take the chance before Xavier would try asking.

Kashton: “Hey Layton? I think we should totally hang out after school.”

Layton: “Alrighty then, I’m fine with that.”

Kashton: “K, meet me at that tree with the bench underneath.”

Layton: “Okee, I’ll bring my volleyball too.”

Kashton: “Sounds good, ttyl.”

Layton: “k byeee.”

Kashton set his phone down with a sigh, finally there was at least something to look forward to.

“Someone’s happy?”

Kashton jumped slightly and looked to the side.

“Dammit, Maxwell! Stop doing that shit!”

Maxwell, Kashton’s best friend leaned back in his chair. “You’re talking to Layton, I assume?” “Yes I am, so what?”

Max chuckled “Someone’s obsessed.”

Kashton rolled his eyes “No, I’m just tryna get closer to her.” Max sighed “Listen, the closest you’re getting to her is being her best friend, she’s with Xavier y’know?” Kashton sighed and nodded, he was right and there wasn’t really any denying it.

Max smirked “The way you look at her is hilarious though. I know I’m your head you’re thinking ‘Damn! I’ve gotta be with her! I wanna fuc—“ Kashton punched him in the arm. “Do NOT continue that sentence, man!” Max rubbed his arm while laughing “Oh come on! I just know you think of that!” Kashton’s face was becoming hot again “Just shut it.”

Max raised his hands in mock defence. “Fine.”

Kashton put his phone in his bag and sighed “Well, now I wait till the end of the day.” Max sighed “Good luck with that, with your level of patience, I can tell it’ll be difficult for you.”

After what felt like an eternity, the dismissal bell had rung and Kashton sprinted out of the school, dashing to the spot where him and Layton would meet. Once he was there, he caught his breath and began waiting for Layton. Kashton eagerly kept looking around, wondering when she’d been there and soon enough, he saw her approaching. He took note of her appearance, despite already seeing her today. The way her hair blew gently in the wind, her dark brown eyes looking up at him, her hips swaying as she walked, she even had her volleyball in hand just like she promised.

As soon as made it over to Kashton, he smiled widely at her, finally he could hang out with her. “Hey Layton.”

“Hey Kashton, I brought the volleyball. So where are we heading?”

“Um…how about my house?” Kashton asked.

“Sure! Let’s go then!”

As they began making their way to Kashton’s place, he tried to reach out to hold Layton’s hand but he realized he shouldn’t so he kept it at his side.

[dirtwatchman]

PARTIES: @dirtwatchman and @magmahearts TIME: Early goo, sometime after this thread. WHERE: Worm Row SUMMARY:  Caleb is trying to rescue a cat during the goo disaster and Cass comes along just as he's starting to become trapped. Seeing that she's not in great shape he decides to tag along with her much to Cass' disappointment. They end up coming upon something neither of them expected. WARNINGS: None that I can remember, just sad thoughts.

The volunteer opportunities during this goo disaster were plentiful and Caleb had been making sure to do everything he could for the people of his hometown but nothing felt like enough. Working the shelters was a great help until he was standing around waiting to be told what to do. Going out and getting more supplies was fantastic until those supply pickups ran dry. He just felt like he wasn’t doing enough. Maybe it was dumb to go out on a rescue mission to Worm Row, but it was the right thing to do, right? He couldn’t just sit around while others suffered. People could live without him but there were too many out there that others couldn’t lose.

What was truly dumb though was straying from the rescue group. All it took was one frenzied cry of a cat for him to walk away from everyone doing a job. He’d promised to keep an eye out for a missing one after all. It wasn’t the one he was looking for but there was a calico stuck in one of the allies behind a tattoo parlor, goo blocking both ways out and slowly overtaking the objects down the path as it spread. 

Caleb quickly jumped over the growing puddle and scooped the cat up into his arms, the animal only thrashing for a moment before it realized it was safer in the undead’s arms than on the ground as goo continued to come towards them. “Uh...well…” His eyes scanned the ground realizing it would have been easier to jump back without a terrified cat in his arms. As he tried to think of how to get back to the main street, someone walked by the entrance of the alley and he called out quickly to try and get their attention. “Hey! You think you could help me out real quick? Just need someone to hold the cat.”

Everything ached. Her shoulder where Rhett had stabbed her, her head where his knife had tried and failed to end her life, her arm where he’d twisted it to the point of breaking. Her pride, too, though that was a harder thing to admit. Cass knew she should be just… grateful to be alive, glad to still be breathing, but it was hard. She was angry about what had happened. She was afraid that it might happen again. She was desperate to be useful, somehow. And she was trying, as hard as she could, to hide all of this from Alex, who was already going through enough because of her.

Going to Worm Row to help with evacuation had felt like something she could do. She wasn’t much of a superhero as she was — maybe she’d never been much of a superhero at all — but she could still do something. She remembered her conversation with the woman online about the warehouses, about how the people who were sleeping inside them the way Cass used to before she’d found her cave would be forgotten in the evacuations. She didn’t want that to happen, couldn’t stand the thought of it.

So she’d broken away from the group she was with, circling around abandoned buildings and peering through windows. No one yet, but she thought she’d find someone eventually. She knew which buildings people tended to flock towards, after all. She was passing by the mouth of an alley when a voice called out, causing her to falter. She turned towards it, surprised to see a man holding a cat and surrounded by goo. “Oh, shit,” she said, quickly walking into the alley, careful to avoid the goo. “I’ve got you, yeah! Uh… Hand me the cat.”

Even with his long limbs Caleb wasn’t sure he’d be able to just hand her the creature. It was starting to wiggle in his arms again, still scared of the substance taking over the street and now realizing that something wasn’t quite right with him either. He tried to reach her outstretched hands with the animal as it flailed around but he kept having to move further back to stay away from the good still moving toward him. “As much as I don’t want to do this, I might have to gently toss it to you. Think you can handle it?” She wasn’t looking too great herself and he wondered if she should even be out here much less trying to help him rescue a cat.

But he didn’t have a choice, did he? At least she was on the other side of this, easily able to escape the spreading goo if she needed to. “Alright, on three.” Caleb eyed her wearily, hoping the cat wouldn’t freak out and start clawing at the girl. “One…two…three!” He tossed the cat gently after getting it as close to her as he could, hoping it would get to her safely and he could figure out how to get himself on the other side. 

With the goo getting closer, his eyes went to the ground before he had a chance to see the outcome, feet stepping back once again. It was moving slowly but he didn’t have much more time to waste or else he’d be completely stuck. So he moved back a little more and got a running head start before jumping himself, landing not so gracefully on the other side of it all. Caleb’s shoulder was just inches from another pile of this stuff and he scrambled to his feet before his lack of coordination got him in even more trouble. 

She hesitated at the question. Could she catch the cat if it was tossed to her? Her shoulder hurt just sitting there, and catching anything with any weight to it would likely pull at the injury uncomfortably. But something that moved and squirmed? That would be even harder. She studied the situation for a moment, attempting to find another solution before accepting, begrudgingly, that there really wasn’t one. She could either catch the cat, or… Or nothing. The only other option was to leave the little guy behind, and that wasn’t much of an option at all. So, with determination coloring her features, she nodded. “I can catch it,” she said with more confidence than she felt. She had to.

She steadied herself as he prepared to throw the cat, digging her heels in and holding her arms out. Her jaw was tightly clenched in anticipation for the inevitable pain that would come with the exercise, but she was ready. When he landed on three, she took a step forward with her arms out. The cat landed in them, and Cass bit back a cry of pain. Her whole shoulder felt like it was burning, like she’d been stabbed all over again. Her vision whited out momentarily, but she recovered quickly, holding the squirming cat close to her chest. She must have bitten her tongue in silencing her cry, because there was blood in her mouth. She swallowed it carefully, waiting for the man to join her.

He ran and jumped, and Cass transferred her hold on the cat so that she was using only one arm to hold it, freeing the other to reach out and steady the stranger to prevent him from rolling into the goo. When he was upright and goo free, she let out a shaky sigh and offered him the cat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m uh, I’m good.” Caleb nodded while checking himself to make sure nothing had gotten on him. It would be just his luck that the goo would have splashed onto his arm or something and he’d become a statue. But it wasn’t just him he was worried about either, the zombie looking over his helper as he took the cat back. He’d noticed her wince when she caught the animal, and now he could see a small amount of blood on her lips as his eyes passed over them. “Are you okay? Why are you bleeding?” Should she even be out in this mess? He’d noticed already that she wasn’t looking the best and now his brow was creased with worry seeing her up close.

Even as the cat struggled to get out of his arms. The animal's claws ran over his bare wrist and Caleb had to drop it before the thing could do more damage. A small grunt left his lips but the cat was halfway down the street before he looked back up. At least it was walking away from the goo. “That’s what I get for helping a stray, I guess. Just hope it doesn’t get into any more trouble.” 

His attention went back to her, the concern growing the more he took her in. “Do you need…like, a chair or something? Maybe you should sit down?” The last thing either of them needed was for her to pass out in this. He wouldn’t just leave her of course but Caleb would rather it not come to that point if they could help it. 

She hated how easily he recognized the pain in her expression. Sometimes, Cass wished that the unreadable expressions that came with being made of stone transferred to her glamour, too, that she could be stoic even with the illusion of humanity stretched across her rocky skin. She didn’t want to be the kind of person that other people had to worry about; she wasn’t supposed to be. She was a superhero. She used to think she was a good one. She wasn’t so sure of that anymore. “I just bit my tongue,” she said with a dismissive wave, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. “The little guy was heavier than I thought he’d be. It caught me off guard.”

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the animal; she watched as it clawed its way out of the stranger’s arms, dropping to the ground and taking off. She watched it go, hopeful that it would stay away from the goo. Would the goo have the same effect on cats as it did on people? It was hard to say. “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” she said softly. The cat disappeared behind a nearby building, and she turned back to the man.

She was tired. There was no denying it. Every inch of her ached, exhaustion from even this smallest of physical activities seeping into her very bones. She hated it, hated how weak she felt. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This shouldn’t be affecting her still, shouldn’t be such a persistent ache. Not physically, and not mentally, either. It was so stupid. Didn’t her mind know that she was fine? “No,” she said quickly, trying to straighten her back and look more steady. “No, I’m all good.”

There was something about the way she took her time to answer him, as if she were trying to decide whether she should placate him or tell the truth. Caleb could recognize the thought process anywhere seeing as he did it himself way too often. It was that drive to take care of everyone else before taking care of themselves, that need to be helpful, to know that their presence meant something rather than wonder if anything good came of it or not. It was obvious that something wasn’t right but he wasn’t going to push her to talk about it if she didn’t want to. He’d want the same if the situation was reversed. “Okay, only if you’re sure.” Which he knew she would say as such. It’s what he would do. 

But he also didn’t feel right just walking away when clearly something was off with her. She looked too young to be out there on her own anyway, at least while a disaster was going on. “Uh, I lost my volunteer group so it seems I need something to do. Do you know where any volunteers are needed? Maybe we can head there together?” Caleb didn’t care if he was being too obvious, he wasn’t leaving her alone to pass out in this mess.

“I’m sure,” she replied, flashing her biggest grin. Her stomach churned, ached. It was a lie, and it wasn’t. She hadn’t specified what she was sure about. She was sure — sure that she didn’t want to talk about it, sure that she didn’t want to feel the way she felt, sure that she wished she could go back to how she’d been before. She was sure about a lot of things; that was part of the problem.

She hesitated, wondering why he was still here. Did she seem so helpless? The thought unnerved her. Before, it hadn’t bothered her much when people wanted to help her. If anything, it made her feel good — like a person worth helping, like someone people wanted to be okay. But it felt like poison now, like a slap to the face. She was strong, she was. She could do things on her own. When he spoke, asked about a volunteer group, it felt like she was being placated. But… not being alone was still a thing she wanted. So she told herself she was doing it for his sake. So he wouldn’t get stuck again, she she wouldn’t walk by a statue of him later. “I’ve been going around checking empty buildings for people,” she said. “You can help me with that if you want, I guess.” 

Why was he still there? If she was so insistent on telling him that she was okay, if he could tell that she didn’t want any special treatment, Caleb should just walk away, right? He figured that she reminded him of Aria in some way and he didn’t enjoy the idea of leaving anyone in this mess, much less someone who made him think of a person he cared a lot about. If anyone had come across the girl he thought of as family in this predicament and left her then he would have so many unkind words to throw their way. 

Nodding at her suggestion, he looked down Worm Row and back the other way, knowing that it was a good idea regardless of it only coming about so he didn’t leave her alone. Surely there were others that were trapped, not just that poor cat. Pulling his sleeve down further so that she couldn’t see that his arm had healed from the scratches already, Caleb pointed down one side of the street. “Are you going that way? I’d love to join, otherwise I’d be lost.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. He knew that he was a follower, never took charge, couldn’t make a decision unless he absolutely had to so he'd most likely be standing in the middle of the street doing nothing if she left without him. In some ways she was the one helping him.

“How many people have you seen so far? I’ve only seen the cat myself…more statues than anything.” Which was a sad thing to realize. Those poor people were trapped if they were still alive. He’d hoped that he’d see more rescues than Caleb had. “I’m hoping that most of the people needing rescues are just gone now instead of trapped. It’s been a while so it’s possible, right?”

Was she relieved that he wanted to help her, or disappointed? Even Cass didn’t know for sure. She hated being alone, but she hated the way he was looking at her, too. Concern was a funny thing. She always yearned for it right up until the moment she got it, always wanted it only until she had it. Because now, in moments like this one, she felt so weak. Nothing like the hero she so wanted to be, nothing like what she was supposed to be. She was weak and she was stupid and she hated it, but she didn’t know if she hated it more than she hated being alone. She didn’t know if she hated anything more than that. 

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a nod, looking off in the direction he’d indicated. She told herself that she was helping him by letting him tag along, let herself pretend that she was keeping him out of the goo. “I haven’t seen a lot of people, either, but… There are some abandoned buildings down that way. People with nowhere else to go will sleep there sometimes when the weather is bad.” She didn’t mention how she knew that, didn’t add that she’d slept there herself on a pretty regular basis before Kuma found her way back when she’d first come to Wicked’s Rest. He didn’t need to know that; he just needed to know what she planned on doing now.

Her eyes darted to a nearby statue, a hint of grief shooting through her chest. She hoped the people beneath the stone were okay, even if it seemed impossible. “I’m sure most of the people who were in houses are,” she replied. “But… some people fall through the cracks in situations like this. Some people don’t have anyone looking out for them.”

“That makes a lot of sense actually.” He should have thought about that. He’d spent a lot of nights in random cemeteries and different places when he was younger and had come across a few of those people asking if he needed a place to stay. Caleb had always appreciated the offer. Ones with no place to go were always the kindest. He briefly wondered why her mind had gone there but didn’t want to bring it up in case it brought up something painful. It was likely that she just had a kind heart herself and was able to think about these things. 

After a pause, her next words caught his ear and it was harder to pretend that her knowledge of the displaced was nothing more than her ability to think about the less fortunate. It sounded so much more personal. “We can definitely check those places out and get them to the shelter’s buses if we need to….thanks for thinking of them.” Because he sure hadn’t and now he felt guilt building up in his gut. Following her eye line to the statue nearest them, he wondered how many of these people didn’t have any place to go when they got caught up with the goo. She was right, most rescues would only think about the people who already had places they could hide away in first.

Caleb started to walk towards the buildings she had indicated, careful to keep an eye on the goo spots but also letting his gaze go back to her every now and then. He wasn’t being subtle with the worry that was coursing through him but at this point he didn’t care. Her pride could take a hit but if she collapsed in this he wasn’t sure she could come back from the goo. “Do you…know someone who might be down here?”

There were a lot of people who tended to be ‘forgotten’ by the general public. Even now, Cass often felt like she was one of them. She had places she could go, places where she’d be welcome to stay for as long as she needed — Alex’s cabin, Metzli’s house, Ariadne’s apartment — but there was a stark difference between your friends being there for you and strangers caring whether or not you were okay. Even caring wasn’t quite what she’d needed in her worst moments — she’d only wanted acknowledgement back then. For someone to see her, to recognize that she needed help. People had a bad habit of looking away when something was ugly, and there were few things uglier than this.

But there were good people out there, too. There were guys who’d brave the goo just to save a cat from succumbing to it, who wouldn’t hesitate to join her on her quest to save the people the rest of the world forgot about. “Yeah,” Cass replied, and she took the thanks even if she hated herself for it a little. She might need it if he asked too many questions, she told herself. Odds were, he’d have plenty of questions she didn’t want to answer if he found out about her cave. It was easier to have an easy out.

She trailed behind him as she walked, watching the goo just as carefully as he was. It was clear that he was concerned. It made her feel warm, like a fire flickering within her chest. It was rare for people to worry about Cass, but it had become more common since moving to Wicked’s Rest. She liked it. At his question, she shrugged a shoulder. “There are a lot of people in Worm Row who don’t have a lot of places to go. We just need to find them.” She rounded the corner, nodding to a warehouse. “There. People sleep in there a lot.” It didn’t look too surrounded by the goo.

As soon as she pointed out the right building he was eyeing her again. How did she know that? There was something deep down telling him that this knowledge came from personal experience more than from her being a volunteer somewhere but he also knew it wasn’t right to assume things. If she wanted him to know what this was about she would have said by now. It wasn’t like Caleb blamed her at all, he wouldn’t want to tell a complete stranger about his past either, but if this was her present truth it didn’t…sit right with him. If she needed a place to go he knew of plenty of people who would be happy to take her in. Hell, he would have himself if he wasn’t worried about her finding his…supply. 

How awful would that look? He takes in a displaced young woman only for her to find freezers full of brains in his basement. It would scare her to death and he would definitely end up in jail this time around.

So he let it go. As much as he didn’t want to, he let go of the nagging feeling telling him to press this issue further. Instead he nodded at her and made his way towards the building to check it out and boy was he glad she had pointed this place out. 

There were almost a dozen people lingering inside not knowing where to go or what they could do with the goo outside. As soon as he saw them all two things happened; one, he had confirmation that she knew more than she was saying about the displaced in Wicked’s Rest, and two, he knew he had to get one of the volunteer buses closer to this location to get them all to safety without a goo incident. “I think I need to go find a bus and bring it here instead of trying to get them all to another location. Are you okay to stay here with them?”

He didn’t ask any questions, and Cass was grateful for it. Still, she held on to that thank you. She shouldn’t have, she knew. It was a bad thing, a selfish one. So many people had been hurt by her tendency to make binds she had no business making. From Kuma’s death to Metzli’s anger, there was a string of consequences that existed between binds and the people they tied themselves around and still, even knowing that, Cass had trouble letting them go. So she kept this one, tucked away safe and waiting for a day when she might need to use it, even if she tried to convince herself that that day would never come.

Inside the warehouse, it was easy to focus on other things. There were people who needed help, people who were afraid and lost and alone. Some of them, she recognized. She thought they recognized her, too, around their fear, but most knew better than to say so. Cass carefully ushered them all to one side of the warehouse, as far away from the goo as they could get. 

She saw the same problem Caleb did. Leading a group of people this size to safety without losing any of them would be a difficult task, and they couldn’t risk losing anyone. She shot him a worried glance, but he already had a solution in mind. A little relieved, she nodded. “Go,” she agreed. “I can keep them safe until you get back.”

As soon as she gave confirmation, he was off. There was no hesitating here. That stuff was spreading fast and if it found its way to the building they would all be trapped until they could get the goo off. Finding the bus they needed hadn’t been the hard part. The hard part came with navigating it through the street so that the goo didn’t take it over. Luckily, the thing was empty save for Caleb and the driver since she had just come from dropping off a load of others in Deersprings and they only had themselves to worry about. He watched as she carefully drove through the streets, taking as many detours as she could find once they realized one was too blocked off by the black sludge, and eventually they pulled up to where they needed to be thanks to the expertise of the woman. 

The building was still safe but it wouldn’t be for long. There was goo coming their way, they would have to work quickly to get them all out.

Rushing in, he found the girl that had helped him with the cat, realizing too late that he didn’t even know her name, but they were a little busy. “So, good news is I have a bus sitting outside, bad news is we need to hurry because this building isn’t going to be safe for much longer.” Caleb clapped his hands together to get all of their attention, something he usually hated but didn’t have enough time to care. “Everybody! There’s a bus outside that can take you safety but we need to hurry or we’re going to get trapped in here.”

They weren’t moving. All they did was stare at Caleb like he was trying to trick them, suspicion in some of their eyes. Confusion took over before he realized that to them he was an outsider. Why would they trust him? Looking down at the other girl, he raised an eyebrow. “Think they might listen to you more than me?”

There were questions, while they waited. Cass did her best to answer them as they came, but it was difficult. No, she didn’t know what was going on. Yes, it was a dangerous situation. No, they couldn’t stay here. Yes, she understood that it was just as dangerous to be out in the city with no roof over your head at night in Wicked’s Rest. Some of the people knew her, trusted her. To others, she was a stranger. And it was hard, trying to convince any of them that she knew what she was talking about. She was a kid, in their eyes. A kid who, up until a few months ago, had been in the same boat they were in now. And these people were distrustful by default, unwilling to accept help when they didn’t know what would be asked of them in return. Cass understood it, but it certainly made things more complicated.

It was a relief, still, when the man returned with the bus. Cass felt her shoulders slump at the sight of him, felt the feeling rush in not unlike the goo they were trying to avoid now. “That’s good,” she breathed, nodding her head. “Seriously, that’s — I’m glad you found it. I don’t know what we would have done without it.” The people in this building wouldn’t have left, and Cass wouldn’t have abandoned them. It would have been a tragedy unreported by news outlets that didn’t tend to care about tragedies when the victims’ faces looked like the ones in this building.

But even with an easy route out, the distrust remained. The people looked to the man with dubious expressions, muttering to one another, and Cass’s heart sank in her chest. She looked to the man, then back to the crowd. She knew, of course. She knew what would be more effective, even if it meant admitting to things she’d rather keep private. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.

“Look, I know how you feel. They evacuated the neighborhood, and they forgot about you. And — And there’s something really scary going on, and you don’t understand it, and you’re afraid. You have nowhere else to go, and I get that. I’ve been where you are. But if you stay here, you’re going to get hurt. You might get worse than hurt. I know it’s scary, I know. But if you let us get you somewhere safe, I won’t forget about you. I’ll make sure you have everything you need. Food, water, blankets. I’ll make sure you have a place to stay, somewhere safe. You just have to get on the bus.”

If Caleb weren’t living in Wicked’s Rest, if he hadn’t known about the things that could exist these days, this moment would have seemed so surreal to him. Having to get a bus to lead a bunch of people away from goo that was taking over anything it touched, not being able to convince a dozen people to get on said bus despite that major detail, and then a girl who looked like she could have been a child giving an inspiring little speech to spur them all forward could have been a scene straight from The Twilight Zone. Anyone else would have had a hard time thinking they were living their real life and not home snug in their bed while they ran through the dream in their head. 

But it was real. This was their daily truth. And sometimes…rarely, he felt a sense of pride just to be witness to it all. 

His look of worry started to morph into one of awe as each word left her lips. She couldn’t have lived much life yet and still she was able to be so open and personal in front of a bunch of strangers just to make sure they made it to safety. He could have chimed in, tried to relate like her, but it wasn’t needed. They were looking at each other for a beat before they decided to follow the girl’s instructions to get on the bus. 

Caleb again felt that pride start to swell. Trust was so hard. He knew that little fact very well but every single one of them decided to swallow that fear in their gut and trust in the only option they had left. The zombie just kept nodding at people as they passed him, trying to give a reassuring smile to let them know that he too would be there if they needed him, but none of it would have been possible without her bravery. When the last person climbed the steps his smile turned on her, genuine words slipping past.

“See? I’m the one who needed you after all.”

[rtnortherly]

| Forewarning: I was struck by the need to talk art and life a little. It’s meandering. Some might think it cheesy, or whatever. Do with that what you will. |

It’s super easy to get down on yourself and your place in life. For everyone, of course, but in this instance I’m speaking from the perspective of an artist—specifically an artist online at a time when online is pretty damn hostile to artists.

There’s a lot going on. It feels like social media platforms are crashing down around our ears, draining reach and therefor business. As a person really quite new to using social media I don’t have enough perspective to tell if this is just how it always is either. It seems from what I can tell it’s much worse than it used to be. On top of that, there are a plethora of exploitative services being shoved at us from the (hopefully) dying nft trend, to AI and ML services violently pillaging the internet for data and years of effort and creativity. And amidst it all artists face the usual troubles—anything from being told to charge less, to being told to get a real career to make money, to being mocked and bullied for their artistic journey, to being told what to draw.

All this while we try to struggle through the internal conflicts artists tend to come up against—is our art good enough? How can I be better? Why am I not doing better? Is it me? Is it my art? The constant effort of not comparing ourselves to our peers, of not comparing ourselves to where we want to be or think we should be.

It’s a lot.

And I can not offer any answers on how to handle all that. I’m still figuring it out for myself. The typical answers are to simply not compare yourself to anything. To not mind the numbers. Which. Is all very well and good, and also true. It’s just not as easy as it sounds, especially if the success of your business or your ability to make a living involves minding the numbers at least a little, if looking at the art of others helps you grow but leaves a window for self doubt. There’s ways to face that in a healthy manner, of course. I read a text post from someone awhile back that suggested you should learn from what other artists do differently in their art, but not internalize the difference in success (worded much better, of course). I saw what they were saying, and it was actually very encouraging. I’d like to be able to quote it directly, since I think it was genuinely good advice. Alas I only have my flawed memory.

Either way, everyone is going to have times where their determination wavers a little and they find themselves caught up in feelings of discouragement and doubt. No one can maintain perfect surety and resolve all the time.

Times like those I like to celebrate how far I’ve come. Sometimes if I look at my current art in isolation, I see only where it lacks. But when I look back at my old art, I feel pride for how much work I’ve done to grow as much as I have. Pride that I stood where I did then, because I couldn’t stand where I do now without that. Pride for every step along the way that has taken me as far as I’ve gone. Pride for knowing that there’ll be a time in the future where I’ve continued to grow passed what I can imagine at this point.

And above it all I feel fondness. Fondness for the kid who found an old fantasy “How To” drawing book in their school library when they were nine that told them they could create worlds. That they could tell stories and bring them to life. I feel fondness because slowly but surely I’m getting there. I am there. I remember the first orc I drew, before I even really knew what an orc was. I remember thinking it was maybe the coolest thing I’d ever done. And now I look at my art and I wish I could show it to nine year old me and say thank you. Because if it wasn’t for that drawing—no more than pencil on lined paper or construction paper— I would not have the art I have now. And I know nine year old me would be so excited to see where that took me.

Above is a drawing I did in February 2021 (left) and a drawing I completed in June 2023 (right). I love both. Clearly I’ve learned much in the last two and a half years. But that doesn’t mean the first one is bad. There’s things I’d change about it now, never mind that it was meant to be for a comic, and the other is intended to be a painting that I can sell someday as a print which have very different requirements. I think the biggest thing I’ve learned is how to experiment. How to look at the world and try translating what I see to how I’d go about drawing it. In the first, for example, I had no idea how to approach drawing shallow running water, so I didn’t. I picked a colour, and tried adding some splashing water. In the second I’d learned a lot about how far a textured brush and a glow layer of some kind will take you 😂 But I wasn’t as intimidated. I trusted myself and all the art I’d created up until then to help support me in getting close to what I wanted to achieve. And now both pieces will be my fuel and my foundation.

Anyway. Recently I was struggling with all of this. It comes in waves semi frequently, and usually on the other side I find a way to be happy and to be gentle with myself. However it makes me contemplative. I like to talk about my art and my journey. I’ll probably do so many millions of times and I doubt there’ll be much variation. But it’s nice to do these little self check-ins. To celebrate myself. To celebrate all my hard work.

To remember first of all: Trust the process. In life and in art.

And second of all: we all deserve to be proud of ourselves. There are no conditions for that. Be proud. Be pleased. Delight in yourself. It doesn’t matter where in your journey you are. It doesn’t matter what art is in your portfolio. As a person, you have worth. Period. There are no other qualifications.

[writtenbytsuki]

not my body

“And then suddenly I am gripping the porcelain of my sink, stinking of sweat and vanilla, brush raking through my hair, watching it limpen like a wig, searching, clawing for breath amidst tears and snot, because it’s such a beautiful shade of red, but it’s still putting lipstick on a pig.”

I’ve always been the ugly kid, the chubby kid. I was often made fun of for being on the heavier side, but it’s okay right? It was to make me better?

It was always, “it’s okay, you’re just big boned,” or “don’t worry it’s just baby fat.” But being around people who didn’t look like me, being in ballet and having family members constantly on fad diets, saying things like “does this dress make me look fat?” never really helped.

Eventually, I got into a sport, figure skating to be exact. I’d wear oversized clothes to training, making sure I never looked fat. Too bad it required me to wear tight costumes. I spent hours at the rink, trying to run around as much as possible, lose as much weight as possible, and I did, but it wasn’t enough. 12 hours of skating only stopping to drink water and have one meal when I got home wasn’t enough. I still looked fat in my costumes, I still got made fun of. So I quit.

I was constantly trying to figure out how I could lose weight. Even after I quit training, I’d still spend hours skating, trying to make myself more attractive. I wanted to be like the girls around me, the girls I grew up watching on TV. I tried and tried, but it barely worked so I moved on.

I started going to the gym. I had a trainer, I went everyday for three hours — two for strength training and toning, and one for martial arts. That went on for years. I barely ate anything of course because I thought it would help. I was never hungry, only drank water and counted my calories. At some point I started going with my then boyfriend and it was fun I guess. I didn’t really get as good a pump as I did before, but hey, you win some, you lose some, right?

After awhile, my sessions became less frequent, my eating more, but I was unhappy. I wanted to feel good in myself again, so I started over-sexualizing myself. I started taking lewd pictures, making sure I got all the right angles. And when my ex and I broke up, he started slut-shaming and telling me I gained weight which kickstarted everything all over again.

Along with over-sexualizing myself, I started eating less again. I started flushing food down the toilet. Coming home and telling my mom I wasn’t hungry. I was hurting myself. I’d eat less than 700kcals a day, cut myself when I went over, and even tried purging.

Worst of all, I started projecting my insecurities onto others. I bullied people online, calling them fat, telling them to end their lives. I was at the mercy of people, who like me, were telling me I was fat and needed to hurt myself. I was told how to starve myself.

As much as I did all this, it never made me feel better about myself. I still felt like a pig with lipstick. Over-sexualizing myself, wearing make up, dressing in less and less clothing, it was never the solution. It caused so much more pain than I realized.

Soon enough, my parents had found out what I was doing online. I got put into therapy, I was grounded for 6 months and I wasn’t allowed to be alone. But I felt alone. I was alone with my thoughts, alone with how I felt. If I told someone, I’d probably get put in the mental hospital, so I didn’t. Instead I quietly cried myself to sleep every night and constantly looked in the mirror hating myself.

Then I got better.

Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

As much as I tried to recover, it was hard. Every time I looked in the mirror I hated myself. Every time I put clothes on I felt like cutting off my tummy. Every time I tried to love myself, I couldn’t. So I turned to every other possible way.

I started putting myself out there again. I started over-sexualizing myself again online. I started becoming the hot girl I’ve always wanted to be. At least who I thought I’ve always wanted to be.

I found validation in thirsty men online. I sold my pictures to help me feel better about myself. I became what everyone already thought I was, a slut. Not to hate on sex workers, but I was underage and did it for all the wrong reasons. I was desperate.

But soon enough, I stopped. I stopped using my body for views, likes and validation. I stopped caring about what others think. But I still hated myself. Even though I’m constantly told, “you’re so skinny already,” “you need to eat more,” “you look fine.” To me, I wasn’t, I didn’t and I don’t. I knew they were only saying it to stop me from relapsing.

Up until now, I’ll often look in the mirror, in an outfit I’ve been dying to wear and absolutely hate the way it looks on me. I nitpick every detail about myself, hate my body, cry about it and go back to oversized clothes. Even with how much I’m reassured, I don’t believe them, I never did.

Sometimes I feel like I’m not even in my own body. I dissociate, depersonalize and breakdown over the way I look, the way other people might see me. Sure, I put on this confident persona and yeah, sometimes I am confident, but more often than not, I’m thinking about whether I look good or if I look too fat. If my makeup’s still okay, if my clothes are fitting me right, if I’m standing funny. But it has never, ever felt like my own body.

[keepmeinprayer]

i’m putting this notice at the beginning because i don’t wanna argue about anything. these are my personal thoughts and experiences and i want to explicitly state that there is no need to try to argue for someone or something here. not that i’m so important that you may feel the need to do so, but i’ve become acutely aware of the nature of the internet and it feels necessary to say that i’ve made up my mind on this subject. it’s not that i don’t want people to read this and have opinions on it, but please don’t come under here (thinking that since this is the internet and i’ve put my thoughts in a public place, you’re entitled to give your opinion) with any negativity. someone doing the exact thing i’ve asked not to do feels inevitable, but i want to give the benefit of the doubt. i’m asking (because why not ask?) that you consider that i’m a human being with my own thoughts and feelings. consider that i know that you are the same, so you can be in disagreement with me or have strong feelings about what i’m saying. you can - meaning you are totally capable of - reading this without commenting something negative.

i’ve realized that my community [of action] cannot be found online. i want desperately to reach out to people, but more than that, i want to make a difference in people’s lives. i think after reading “healing through the dark emotions” by miriam greenspan and seeing how often she asks you to take action in the face of emotions so raw and scary and human (grief, fear, and despair), something finally clicked into place. (i think this is also perfect timing because i’m in my mid-twenties, so my brain is at its peak!) i’m starting to be moved by true empathy. (empathy isn’t just about understanding how others feel. it’s about what you do for others when you understand their predicament and the effect it is having on their wellbeing.) as it stands, the work that needs to be done on my part cannot be done via the internet. to me, the internet is a privilege, a shield where we can pretend to be doing all that we can while not really doing any impactful work.

i feel so limited by technology. technology really is not compatible with who i am and the work i wanna do. (i’m not even quite sure what kind of work i wanna do, but i wanna start somewhere where i can actually see and connect with others.) i spend more time looking for attention on the internet than giving it to those who need it the most. and that’s a result of my past, of my childhood experiences, of my current situation in life. i’m not blaming anyone for it, it’s just something i’ve realized i do. i’m feeling a change come over me like a wave. i think it’s because i’m seeing so many people unplug from the internet. maybe they realized (earlier than i did) that the communal work that needs to be done cannot be done online and is even limited by playing into the games of social media. (what a difference i felt when i decided to take a short twitter break! try it for yourself paired with doing something that enlivens you like reading or meditating or cooking or writing or painting!) when i took a step back and then returned, i became mindful of everything i was consuming. i saw how much secondhand hate i was being regularly hit with. one of my friends said this and it really fits in the context of what i’ve witnessed: so often, people are quick to choose the inhumane thing over the humane thing. it’s so discomforting to watch a place that was once so fun transform in a negative way. i don’t even think that gets to the root of the problem… it’s not that social media is becoming a place of hate because a certain social media site is infamous for how its users around a certain time displayed careless bigotry. it’s more about how people are relying on social media to make a change (for themselves and/or others). it’s about how social media and reality are starting to merge. before, the hate felt like it couldn’t actually touch me or others. now? it feels like the hate we see on social media directly precedes harm in reality. it’s difficult, but it was a necessary wake-up call. i know there’s no way to escape hate, but why should i subject myself to it so regularly? i have to be fair to myself, so i can be fair to others.

(as an extra note, there are people who are doing amazing things for others via the internet. people are creating and sharing things like art, poetry, visual and auditory stories, photographs, and music and the consumers of such raw and beautiful artistry are changed for the better because of their exposure to this content. however, many people, myself included, are not doing that kind of work. and so.. i feel a responsibility - a really strong pull - to get off the internet and actually do something with my hands. with my feet. with my body.)

all this to say, i think this is really my final farewell to social media! when i say social media, i mean twitter and instagram and facebook and twitch and all of those sites where the developers tried to replace physical human connection with virtual connections. i’ll keep tumblr because it’s always been a site that appeals to me. you can argue that they’ve added messaging and other interactive features to connect with others on tumblr, but at its core, it’s really just a place to share your humanity (your art, your thoughts, your feelings) with no need to actually put on a show for others. at least for me, it’s like that. disconnecting will be really hard because i’ve become so attached to social media. i’ve been on social media since i was in middle school and i’ve seen how it’s changed. how it’s changed me and others. how it’s changed the world. it has its faults and its benefits. however, the state of it now..? let’s just say i’ve seen that you can document all you want and nothing will change if people aren’t moved to action on their own. you can yell and scream and cry and plead repeatedly for help in a camera. you can show dead bodies, bleeding bodies, rampant violence and rampage. you can show greed and apathy and hatred. you can show all of the scary aspects of humanity, but if people don’t understand their role in combatting that with their own goodness, you can’t bombard them with images and videos and words to make them understand. they really have to be fully in it to understand and move. (thinking of that toni morrison quote about racism and distraction. replace racism with social media. replace racism with consumerism. that’s all… :))

i already feel uncomfortable with starting the work in real life because i’m so out of practice and beginning things is already such a daunting task for me. nonetheless, i know that once i start, it’ll be worthwhile. i might struggle and feel drawn back to what is easy, but i will work on committing myself to overcoming challenges and helping others. i’ll be honest with myself and admit when things feel extremely difficult because of my own faults. all of that is a part of the work i have to and want to do, so i’m devoting myself to the effort. i’ll take my time, dip my toes in the water, and get a feel for where the best place to engulf myself in the work is.

if you’ve taken the time to read this, i appreciate your patience and presence in my ramblings. may you also find your place in the world and be given the grace to do so as many times as you need.

(p.s. i think i will write another stream of consciousness about distraction, but not now. my brain is a bit spent right now.)

[hockeywhy]

4 times you faked a relationship + 1 time you didn’t; m.tkachuk

WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 17.2k. A/N: So, I didn’t want my effort for this fic to go to waste and I’ve decided to re-write it for Matty because he and the fake dating trope work so well together. I had to, so here it is.

one.

“I’d only be asking Matthew if I had no other options and needed a last resort,” you said. “Until then, I’m not even contemplating it.” 

“Kind of sounds like you’ve just about reached the bottom of your list, right around where you’re keeping Matthew, Y/N,” your friend, Anna, responded and though her tone said sympathy, the look on her face reflected anything but sheer elation. 

The invitation landed on your tabletop with a loud slap while you deposited yourself in a nearby chair unceremoniously, glaring at the decorative paper as if it offended you. Actually, scratch that. It did offend you. Greatly so. Honestly, it may as well have come in the form of one of those boxing gloves that sprung out of a box immediately upon opening and decked you square in the face. That’s how much it offended you. 

The golden letters inked on the thick paper warmly requested the pleasure of your company to witness the love of Josh Reynolds to Louise Jones six weeks from now. The location stated was a hotel you knew only through word of mouth: one of those fancy establishments that served ridiculously priced plates that were more canapes than actual meals. 

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

You and Josh called it quits just over a year ago after a relationship that became increasing rockier, significantly more emotionally exhausting. The two of you started dating in high school and if the relationship started off with nothing but the sort of blinding fiery passion only teens could be capable of, well someone missed the memo on giving you the message that all fires eventually fizzle out. Gradually, it was the only way you could see your relationship heading and it seemed that Josh felt it too. It made the breakup easier: it was neat and mutual. Still, that couldn’t be considered an incentive for either of you to invite each other to such grand, deeply personal events. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he found someone he wanted to tie the knot with so quickly but in retrospect, Josh had always wanted that while you were content as you were. That seemed to be the fork in your road with him.

On the one hand, you were angry at Josh for even considering jotting your name down on the list of attendees and on the other, you were angry at yourself for being angry about that. One moment you were dead set on declining the invite and the next, you considering that doing that would simply show you were bitter and unable to be civil about it. Besides, surely it was noted somewhere in the Rulebook of Ex’s that you just couldn’t do stuff like that. That seemed to just about do it. Like hell you’d given anyone the satisfaction of one-upping you.

You needed a plus one. Desperately. 

“Ask your brother then. Pretty sure that’s bound to impress anyone there. It’s not often many will get to say they brushed shoulders with an up-and-coming professional athlete.” 

“I don’t need that sort of plus one. If I did, I would’ve asked you—”

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

“—but what I need,” you ploughed on ahead, “is, well, something that can come off a bit more serious looking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Saying the word boyfriend won’t jinx you into permanent silence, you know. You need a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend for a day,” you agreed contemplatively. 

She picked up the invitation to look through it carefully and after concluding her inspection, she slapped the papers back down on the table, grinning. “Matthew it will be then!” 

Your younger brother, Jake, recently signed his entry-level contract with the Calgary Flames, in a way carrying forward the family tradition of starting a career in professional sports with them. Your grandfather did, your father did and now, here you were watching your little brother take on the mantle. Your family’s involvement in sport and, specifically, the team meant that you were somewhat familiar with the organization whether that meant attending home games or a few events arranged by the team. You couldn’t say you were the best of friends with them, certainly nowhere near the level your brother was, but generally speaking you were fond of the C of Red. 

That couldn’t also be said about Matthew, however.

It seemed that from the get-go, there was a personality clash between you. At first, you thought it was just Matthew picking on you, joking around as he disagreed with virtually anything you’d say but progressively, you were pretty sure the two of you didn’t even have the compatibility to keep things civil. Matthew had a way with pushing your buttons and it bothered you he could do that with so much ease, though the more you thought of it, the more it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you: you were all too familiar with his on-ice shenanigans, after all. Whenever you knew you had to be under the same roof as him, you’d tell yourself to not let him get under your skin but that resolve would last for all of ten minutes. Fifteen if you had a particularly good day. 

Much to your chagrin, it seemed your brother was closest to Matthew. Though you offered the spare room in your apartment, your brother was so warmly welcomed by Matthew. It was no doubt even Jake found your annoyance with his teammate entertaining.

The thought alone was frustrating enough. If one day, by chance, you caught sight of a white strand of hair on your head, you were dead set on blaming Matthew for it. Matthew and his smarmy attitude; Matthew and his smartass retorts; Matthew and the smirks he threw your way whenever your brother took his side, outnumbering you. 

You clenched your teeth, glaring at the invite. From the corner of your eye, you saw Anna’s outstretched hand holding your phone out to you. A groan formed in your throat and you wished you kept in contact with the handful of guys you tried dating after Josh. None really stayed. Or better said, none managed to draw you in. It was as if Josh had put a jinx on you. If that was the case, you hoped that this whammy would disappear if it meant watching him watch someone else walk down the aisle towards him. 

Anna waved the device at you insistently. “Do it. Come on. Even you know nothing says fuck you like turning up there with Matthew. Scrappy when he wants to be and he’s not bad to look at either. You know it.” 

You arched an eyebrow up at her. “More than Johnny?” 

She flushed visibly. Johnny and Anna were still a relatively new thing, dancing around their relationship carefully as if they were both doing this rodeo for the first time. It was pretty cute. “Don’t change the subject.” She placed the device down on the table in front of you then patted your shoulder. “I have a feeling you won’t regret it. If he gets on your nerves too much, well…it can’t be worse than watching your ex get married, right?” 

“Ouch,” you winced, but chuckled, knowing you were defeated. Matthew was the last resort, and you knew you were at the bottom of your list before you even started going through it. “You do realize if he declines, I’ll probably make a start on packing my bags and moving to Montana, right? The only time you’ll hear from me is when my handwritten letter goes through the nine circles of hell that is our postal service.” 

Anna fixed you with a stare that could only read as ‘do it’. “I wouldn’t be so insistent on this if I knew Matthew would say no. I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.” 

With a heavy sigh, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your list of contacts, thumb hovering over his name when it came up. Anna wasn’t wrong: Matthew wasn’t bad to look at all, that much you could admit. But god, if he turned you down…. you knew you wouldn’t be able to ever show your face in front of him or the rest of the team ever again. 

“I think I’ve had enough surprises from him to last a lifetime,” you mumbled but tapped the call symbol anyway.

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

You didn’t let him finish. “I need your help,” you ground out, eyes closing while you rubbed at your forehead with the tips of your fingers. 

There was silence on the other end of the line that had you biting your lip in anxiousness. You shouldn’t have done this. You really shouldn’t have done this. All it would take would be just hitting the ‘resume my account’ link on one of the dating apps you signed up for a while ago. Someone was bound to be attracted not only to you but the promise of an open bar—

“Music to my ears,” Matthew’s response came through. You could practically hear the smile in his voice and knew you’d regret it; you could easily tell from the tone of his voice. 

You sighed quietly, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table, eyes glued to the invitation. Fuck it, you could get someone else; easily, no doubt. The world of online dating was vast and there would always be takers.

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

“No, no. Come on, Y/N. Pretty sure this is the first time you’re calling me first so can we take a moment to just let that sink in?” Silence again, then a chuckle. “Okay, now that we did. How can I help you?” 

It wasn’t as if Josh had put you in the position to ask Matthew for a favor but still: fuck Josh, anyway. In a split second of sheer pettiness, you considered aiming to host the most extravagant, unforgettable weddings when your turn would come just to show him who does it better. 

“Are you free the third weekend in June?” you asked tiredly. 

“Don’t know. Depends what for and who you’re asking for.” 

You should’ve asked him face-to-face. At least then, he would’ve had the chance to see you roll your eyes, turn on your heel and walk away. “I’m obviously asking for myself. Could you just be straightforward for once and answer yes or no? You’re making me hold the line for longer than I anticipated and I’m happy to ask someone else,” you lied.

“Let me get this right—” Here comes, you thought exhausted. “You’re calling me for the first time since you have my number to ask me if I’m free the third weekend in June? As a favor for yourself.” 

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

You don’t know what it was about his words that downed you. It was nothing but a simple question yet the only thing you could think of was: the first boy I’ve dated and so far, the only one, seems to have moved on quicker than I anticipated and while I’m still trying to build myself back up, I’m sitting in my kitchen looking at a wedding invitation and wallowing in self-pity because regardless of how hard I try, of how much I’ve amended my standards, no one seems to do it so what if this is it for me? What if this is just the way it’ll be from now on? And now, I’m resorting to lying just to make myself feel better but also put a façade in front of someone who I know no longer cares about me like that. And really, nor do I about him but here we are. So, nothing much is happening in June, Matthew. Hopefully we get a lot more sunshine though!

What you responded with instead was, “just an old friend of mine getting married and I need a plus one. Nothing serious. Just go there for an hour or two, say some hellos and leave. It’s a quick in-and-out thing.” 

More silence on the other end of the line other than the muffled shuffle of what sounded like bedsheets. “Why not ask your brother then?” 

“Asked him already, said he’s got something lined up already. So, are you free or not?” you lied, quickly pressing on even if you knew that sounded a lot like desperation.

“For you, at a price.” He was smirking. You knew he was and more than ever, you wished 2021 was the year you could just reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end. 

“Uh-huh. Right. No, just forget it. Forget I even—”

You were going to end the call when Matthew laughed, quickly calling out a “no, no! Nothing weird, I promise. Just owe me a favor in return, is all.” 

“Do I get a choice?” you mumbled, more to yourself than towards him.

“I think we both know that you don’t. Text me the time and place,” he instructed and then, just as you were really about to end the call, he added, “hey, send me a photo of what you’re wearing also. I’ll match my tie to your dress, free of charge.” 

“Can you maybe ditch the jacket while you’re at it? Just want to make sure your tie’s within reach so I can strangle you with it.”

Even after you cut the call, Matthew’s laughter rang in your ears. 

-

Matthew matched his tie to your red dress. The color of the silk around his neck was so striking, you would swear it was made from the same material as your outfit. You sent him a photo of the material of the dress, more as a joke than having any expectations attached to it so you were pleasantly surprised to see he made the effort. For a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in sheer joy knowing that to any eye, the two of you could easily pass as a couple. At least, from looks alone if not from attitude. You were a proud person; fiercely so. Knowing you were now in debt to Matthew however he saw fit dealt a pretty impressive blow to your ego. You don’t let yourself linger too much on that thought, though. It was already difficult enough to loosen up and relax your stance as you climbed into Matthew’s car as soon as he texted you of his arrival. 

“You look good,” he commented after you fixed the seatbelt on. He turned in his seat as much as space would allow so he could look at you properly and in return, you arched an eyebrow, refusing to give way to his stare. “Are you trying to one-up the bride?” 

“Ha, ha. Funny. You didn’t even see the bride. I didn’t even see the bride.” 

“Didn’t see her but I’m seeing you, so,” he shrugged, by way of explanation before correcting his position. 

If asked, you wouldn’t deny that Matthew also looked good. Very good. But only if asked. It was impossible that someone with a face like that didn’t know they turned heads easily wherever they went. Matthew’s suit fit him as if it was sown on him. If the two of you had a better relationship, you would even dare ask him what it was he was putting in that hair of his that made it so shiny and gave those curls so much definition, taming them almost perfectly when he really put his mind to it. Whatever it was, you had a feeling he didn’t strain as much as you had earlier that morning to tame your hair and though you could give yourself credit for how well it turned out, your arms weren’t thanking you for it. 

Thankfully, much of the drive was pleasant. Though you hated small talk, you decided to make an effort if only to ease your nerves as the navigation system indicated you were drawing closer and closer to that glitzy hotel. You learned that although the season was over, Matthew, Brady and the rest of the family would spend a few weeks in Canada before heading back home to St. Louis. In turn, you told him that some of the days off you booked from work would be spent somewhere just as sunny and warm but with more beaches. It was safe ground. That, you could do although progressively, you were becoming more and more distracted, and less focused on the conversation the two of you managed to keep. 

“Want me to pull over?” Matthew asked suddenly. 

“What,” you mumbled, turning your attention from the road ahead to Matthew who seemed amused by the situation. “Why would I want you to do that?” 

“I’d want you to do that. You look pretty pale and honestly, I’ve just had the interior cleaned so—”

“Fuck you, Tkachuk, keep driving. I’m just a little…cold. How high do you have the AC on?” 

He fixed you with a stare while waiting for the lights ahead to turn green, eyebrow arched. “It’s June, Y/N, and uncomfortably warm. If it makes you feel better, though, I could turn it off and we can roll down the windows instead?”

“No, sorry—you’re right. It’s fine. Just leave the AC as it is.” 

The laugh he gave was nothing short of incredulous. “Repeat that back for me. Actually—hold on, do that when I can press record on my phone so I can have that on repeat. Did you admit I’m right?” 

“God, you’re making me regret inviting you,” you muttered though without heat. 

An uncomfortable silence slipped between the two of you or maybe, it was just your perspective on it. Matthew seemed perfectly at ease minding the road, only occasionally throwing a cursory glance towards the car’s navigation system whenever it announced a turn. Doing this seemed more and more like a bad idea. A terrible one. No one would’ve held it against you if you denied the invitation. In fact, you thought that was more expected than accepting it and turning up to the party as if you were seeing an old friend, not an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t too late though. Matthew could still turn the car around. 

“Listen, Matt—”

“You have now reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.”

You released a breath you weren’t even aware of holding, then threw a quick look towards the main entrance of the hotel. Already, a few guests whom you recognized were crossing into the lobby.

“You really don’t look okay at all,” Matthew repeated and there was less humor in his voice and more concern this time around. Even you weren’t ignorant to how much your mood kept fluctuating over the course of the drive: often, engaged in conversation but occasionally, withdrawn, barely just catching on to whatever it was Matthew was saying. Sure, he probably didn’t know you well enough to read you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was amiss. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like there’s more to this thing than you’re telling me. You could’ve asked your brother, yet you didn’t—” 

Damn it. You made him swear to play along. You made a quick mental note to get back at him about it whenever you felt energized enough to do so.

“Matthew,” you said, your voice suddenly clear, tone neutral. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes so instead, you kept your stare fixed on the revolving doors ahead. “I’m only going to say this once and I hope that you won’t make me repeat it now or ever again. I’d prefer that you don’t mention it to anyone either. The person getting married today is my ex-boyfriend. Up until last year, we’ve been together since we were teenagers. I loved him. Since we broke up, I kept trying to look for parts of him in others, but I couldn’t find even a trace of who he was. I feel as I’ve been jinxed, and I felt that maybe if I come today, maybe if I see him with someone else, I can confidently say I’m fine with that. It hurt my pride when I received the invitation, so my first thought was to lie. If, for just a few hours, I can pretend I’ve also moved on and I’m not stuck in this…fucking weird limbo, then maybe it becomes true. A fucked up self-prophecy. So.” You pause, clearing your throat. Your mouth suddenly felt dry from your speech, yet you couldn’t feel a pang of regret in your chest or heat behind your eyes. “So. If you want out, that’s fine. After all, I’m asking you to pretend to be my date out of spite, I guess. And embarrassment. It’s childish and unfair and ridiculous but—”

You came to a halt when you felt a finger under your chin, and a gentle upward push forced you to raise your head up a little more. When you turned towards Matthew, you looked at him with a look of confusion on your face. 

“Keep your head up. We have a wedding to go to.” 

His encouragement sunk in faster than expected and as your expression relaxed, a smile formed on your face. 

Yeah. The two of you had a wedding to go to. 

-

The event hall was decorated minimally yet tastefully. It made everything seem even more personal and you received that impression from every detail: from the flower arrangements to the music, everything was a testament to a life united by love. Maybe your emotional outburst earlier accounted for it, but you felt lighter even as you watched the newlyweds glide along the floor for their first dance. Sure, you felt a desperate pang of want but it was distant. Muffled. 

Despite your initial thoughts, having Matthew at your side felt very much like a safety cushion. It surprised you to watch him settle into his role with so much ease that eventually, even you didn’t have to remind yourself to not withdraw whenever his arm wrapped around your waist: sometimes loosely, sometimes a little tighter, reeling you in closer.

Fish, here is your bait, you thought wildly as you stood tucked at his side while he accepted flatteries from one of the guests who swore had been a fan of the Calgary Flames since before he could even talk.

“You must be so proud,” the man turned towards you. “Your family’s truly one of a kind to have all played for the team and now—” He gestures towards Matthew as if to say all of this. “Must be something about those Flames!” 

You laughed tightly, just as Matthew squeezed your side. By that move alone, you could tell he was eating this up. 

“Yeah, just can’t get enough of them,” you concluded, pitching your voice just a little higher towards the end. To the man, it was as genuine as could be, but Matthew cautioned you silently with the slightest narrowing of his eyes, effectively warning you to be more realistic. “Hey, I’ll get us some refills? Try to be a little more inconspicuous in the meantime. Remember this isn’t your day,” you joked. 

“Only practicing for when our turn comes,” Matthew responded without missing a beat and released the hold he had on you. 

Once at the bar, you allowed yourself some extra moments to catch your breath. Even off ice, Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. He struck conversation with others easily, drew their attention with seemingly little effort and easily set the mood for whatever situation or person the two of you would run into. A part of you thought his profession had a lot to do with his mannerism, but a bigger part knew different:  mostly, it was really just Matthew. 

He had a way with words and with people that you haven’t been witness to before and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. He was, after all, a face for the public: familiar with interviews, familiar with the attention, apparently not overwhelmed even by less conventional questions. Watching him play this role was fascinating to say the least. It certainly took your mind off the circumstances so credit where credit was due. 

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.” 

You turned from the bar and came face to face with Josh. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows; behind the knot of his tie, you could see he’d undone the top button of the collar. You’d seen him make countless rounds across the entire floor, greeting guests and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Occasionally, you watched him dance either with his wife, or family members, or even guests you recognized as work colleagues. 

You smiled. “Thanks for the invite. It was a bit weird to receive it, I can’t lie about that, but I’m glad you sent it.” It surprised you to learn you weren’t even lying about that. Through the course of the evening, it dawned on you that maybe, it was more the thought of being here that made you anxious; the event itself, however, proved just how right you were. It felt…fine. You felt fine. 

“Yeah—uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really sure but, well, before…” He trailed off into a sigh. 

You chuckled softly. “Would you like to buy a vowel?” 

That made him laugh. Truly, genuinely laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s a bit weird for me also. But, well, before you and I were, well, you-and-I, we were friends. I would’ve hoped we’d still be friends even after…” He waved a hand in the air by way of explanation but that was sufficient for you.

“Won’t hurt to be friends. Whatever happened between us—well. Thing of the past. Build bridges and get over them, right?” 

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

“Hey. Congratulations, by the way! I’m happy for you. Really. I wish the two of you all the best. She seems really great.” 

“She is,” he agreed and cast a glance towards the room, eyes undoubtedly searching for her. “Are you—”

“Here you are.” 

Saved by the bell. A weight fell around your waist that, by now, was warm and familiar. Unconsciously, you leaned into Matthew, flashing a wide smile at Josh. At first, he seemed surprised by the sudden appearance but then his features settled into something more comfortable; something so much like relief that for a moment, you wished you could just come clean about it. You and Matthew were less than meets the eye.

Before you could even introduce them, a kiss was pressed to your cheek, knocking all air from your lungs and almost making you choke because of it.

What the hell.

“You were gone for some time, so I thought to check on you,” Matthew informed you, all matter of fact. To Josh, he said, “congratulations on the wedding. Must be pretty great to finally get to this point. You two look great together.” 

“Oh? Yeah. Yeah, thanks man. So glad you could come along today.” Josh turned to you, an eyebrow perked in interest. “I didn’t know you two were together.” 

“Oh we’re just—” 

You began but were promptly interrupted by Matthew. “We like to keep it lowkey. It hasn’t been that long for us but that’s not much of a problem when your gut tells you this is it. You know it well, right?”  

You were entirely caught off guard. Instead of responding immediately, you bought yourself some time by taking a sip from your glass of—whatever it was. Strong though. Just perfect for the situation you suddenly found yourself in: ex-boyfriend ahead, fake boyfriend to the side, promising sweet nothings that you knew would come back to haunt you at some ungodly hour. You wished you could step on his shoe; pull on those shiny curls of his real quick, knock some sense back into him. There was a difference between play a role well and clearly, playing it too well.

Matthew pushed ahead. “It’s pretty good timing for us though. We could take some notes for when our turn comes, right babe?” 

“I’ll let the two of you to it, then. Thanks again for coming.” Josh made a move to step away but before he did, he turned to you and caught your eyes. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You look good together. Just make sure you don’t take too many notes.”

“Wouldn’t dream to,” Matthew responded, and you could read the slight bite in his words. When Josh was out of earshot, he looked down at you. “You dated him? Just him?” 

“Hey, what’d I say about not bringing that up again? And save your dick measuring contests for the locker room, Tkachuk. Now’s not the time nor place.” 

“Now’s definitely the time and place,” he countered, making you roll your eyes but there was a smile on your face you couldn’t quite wipe off. “Come on. Let’s continue taking leaves out of their book.” In one swift motion, he took the glass from your hand and set it on the bar while above, the LED lights dimmed, and the playlist switched to a slower song. 

You threw him a cautious look, easily reading where that was going. “I’m not dancing.”

“Sure, you are. You want to give the impression of being happily in love? You need to start pulling your weight in this thing.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Atlas. Do your shoulders hurt from carrying the burden of our relationship?” you mocked, yet still allowed him to lead you towards the dance floor. Right in the center of it given the bride and groom appeared to sit this one out; you expected nothing less from him. You weren’t even surprised when he made an entire show out of it, forcing you to do a pirouette when the two of you claimed your spot. 

“You can’t even imagine the pain you put me through,” he sighed near your ear as the two of you began swaying to the music. 

“Well, you’re still standing so clearly it can’t be that bad.” 

“Baby, it’s torture.” 

You were grateful the two of you weren’t exactly face to face or you were sure Matthew would never have let you live down the flush you felt rising to your cheeks. Sure, he didn’t use the pet name in a genuine manner, but just hearing it roll off his tongue like that… You stopped that thought before it grew into a whole new different monster. 

After a few moments of silence passed, Matthew lowered his head closer to yours, his warm breath colliding with the skin on your throat. “Do you think now’s the right time to kiss? Are enough people watching?” 

You stepped on his foot. Not hard, but just with the right amount of pressure to draw a wince from him. Satisfied, you leaned back just a little to look at him properly. “Don’t even think about it, Tkachuk—”

“Thought about it already.”

Through clenched teeth, you hissed, “you. Are. Incorrigible.” 

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “If only you could meet yourself.” 

You snickered quietly then leaned back against him. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not the most convenient of things… and it wasn’t fair to tell you the full truth of it right on the day of. But—well, thanks.”

“That sounds like it was pretty difficult to let out. It’s very…. heartfelt.” 

“Just fucking accept it as I gave it to you, Tkachuk,” you complained, more amused than annoyed.

More silence followed, filled in only by the general buzz of the room and the slow melody. “And now?” Matthew questioned a short while later. You allowed an extended silence to fill in for your confusion. He picked up on it within seconds. “Do you still feel jinxed? Stuck in the same place while he goes on ahead in life?” 

You took some time to think through your answer, time during which the song faded into yet another slow one. Matthew didn’t give an indication of wanting to move away from the dancefloor, so you saw no purpose in you doing that. 

“Not really,” you concluded. “Just seems like we’re both following different trajectories. Doesn’t mean I’m left behind if I’ve not yet met someone to settle down with like he did. Maybe I just need to be here to come to terms with it. Good for him though. I’m genuinely happy for him and his wife. I think lots of people imagine going through this very same moment.” You ended with a shrug but then, to lighten up the moment, you added, “don’t mock me for it. Between the two of us, I’m the one with the pointy shoes.” 

Matthew laughed, a low, pleasant laugh right by your ear. “I’ll give you a free pass for what’s left of today.” 

“Your generosity astounds me. Please could you also sign my jersey?” 

“Is it my jersey?” 

“Why would it be your jersey when I have my last name printed out on one at the expense of my brother being roughed up a little?” 

“Don’t tempt me. That favor you now owe me? I might just use it to have you get my jersey so I can sign it since you so generously asked.” 

“Your call,” you shrugged. “Just know it’s going straight in the wash right after you scribble on it.” 

Matthew took a few small steps back, only to pull you back towards him. You played along and spun as you landed into his hold once again.

“You say that now, but when you’ll see yourself with it—”

“I’ll auction it on eBay.” 

The laugh you got out of Matthew stayed with you through the rest of the night and like never before, his good disposition easily transferred to you.

two.

When the elevator doors slid open, your brother and Johnny weren’t the only ones to step into the hotel lobby. Matthew accompanied them, flashing a smug smile as the trio approached and his eyes landed on you. You cast a quizzical glance from your brother, to Johnny, to Matthew and then looked towards Anna as if to ask are you seeing this? She only shrugged at you in silent response, though she was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was certainly enjoying this.

“Last I remember, there were only two of you,” you commented.

“Was that before or after your third drink?” your brother chirped back.

Instead of humoring him, you shift your gaze to Matthew. “What gives, Tkachuk? Can’t be left at home unsupervised during family vacations?” 

“My house training has only gone so far,” he responded smartly, then nodded his head towards Anna and Johnny who were caught in a half-hug, apparently entertaining by watching you and Matthew bicker as if watching a tennis match. “They’re not family.” 

Anna feigned a gasp on your behalf. “Y/N and I are part and parcel, Matt. Thought you’d know that by now.” 

“Well, the three of us are part and parcel also, Anna. Thought you’d definitely know that by now,” he responded but you were already leading the way out of the hotel lobby and towards the busy square outside.

It was a hub of activity: from street vendors to dance and music performers, there was something to see regardless of which way you looked. Although you arrived at your holiday destination the previous day, the flight south coupled with the warm, sticky evening made you want to steer away from the busier parts of the town. Instead, you opted to lounge by the pool with Anna, having perhaps one too many cocktails to kickstart your vacation. Perhaps you missed Matthew’s arrival at some point then, though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember anyone mentioning he’d come along also. Not that it bothered you greatly.

Since the time you asked him to be your plus one some few weeks ago, the relationship between the two of you warmed slightly. Sure, he still knew which buttons to press to get a reaction out of you, but you saw it as being less ill-intended and more good-natured fun. You kept up with him easily and whenever it felt as if he was cornering you, you conceded with a roll of your eyes but never admitted defeat. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, but something changed on the day of the wedding right around the time you had spilled out your feelings about the entire deal to him. Looking back on it, you found it strange just how easily you did that, no second thoughts, no wishing for takebacks. You knew you owed him the truth given the position you put him in without plenty of heads-up, but you could’ve easily just simplified the entire thing. 

It wasn’t difficult to stick together as a group but eventually, you wandered off towards a few stalls on your own that have caught your eye. Though you wanted some more time to have Anna to yourself, it was technically her first vacation with Johnny. You could catch up with her later in the room; surely, she’d have even more swooning to do over him by then. Not that you blamed her. Johnny was an incredible guy. 

First, you stopped at a stall selling a range of baked goods that you simply couldn’t turn away from. And for good reason: the sour cherry churro you settled for was a dream come true. From there, you strolled towards a few small stores selling a range of products ranging from colorful graphic tees to earrings made from vibrant, colorful gemstones. You held a blue pair next to your ear, turning one way then another to watch as the light reflected off the gleaming gem. 

“Those suit your complexion,” the attendant commented and when you looked towards him, he smiled bashfully. 

A gentle heat crept up your neck, unable to keep the grin off your face but you couldn’t look away from him: his skin was lightly tanned, and a dusting of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His blond hair was messy in a way you could easily tell was styled to appear as such. He was cute in a sort of conventional way, but you liked the way he smiled at you, all shy but certainly genuine.

“Funny you say that. I always had a feeling blue was my color,” you responded, and his smile widened. 

“Here for vacation?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday, and I’ll be around for a few days,” you added, a little hopeful. 

Hey, if you could score some good company while in the area, then you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to flirt a little and make good with someone more local.

“Good. That’s really good to know.” He regarded you for a moment and you were certain that caused your blush to deepen though at the same time, it made you feel a little…exposed. “Hey, are you free—”

“The red ones are nicer.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustration quickly replacing the feeling of near euphoria. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of all times he could have run into you, the universe fixed it so he popped up when you least needed that to happen. 

“I prefer the blue,” you countered, then held them up against your ear again though you knew you didn’t need to double check if they suited you. 

“No, trust me with the red,” Matthew insisted, and you saw him appear behind you in the small circular mirror you were looking into. He was so close. “Goes well with that little number I got you the other day.” 

You sputtered. “W-what?! Stop messing—”

In the mirror Matthew’s eyes flicked from you to the attendant. “Yeah, you know the one. I left the box on the bed in our room, thought to surprise—”

“Tkachuk, just shut up. There isn’t an our room—”

This was so painfully uncomfortable. So frustratingly annoying, you felt the blood warm in your veins, that familiar wave of anger coursing through your body.

“I’ll ring those up for you,” the attendant said, his voice carefully polite while he accepted the red earrings from Matthew’s outstretched hand. 

You hated him. Passionately hated him. It was easy for Matthew to play games like those because he could easily get just about anyone, but you? It wasn’t quite as easy to not be a pro-athlete who had pretty much everything lined up and going for them. You tried catching the store attendant’s eyes again but he was busy accepting the cash from Matthew after packing away the earrings in a small paper bag. You knew he wouldn’t catch sight of it, but it didn’t stop you from casting a longing, apologetic glance towards him before leaving the store. 

It felt as if for every two steps you took, Matthew only needed one and despite the crowds, he caught up with you easily, holding out the bag towards you while you powered ahead. 

“Come on, don’t be mad. The red ones are definitely better than the blue ones,” Matthew tried to reason with you while holding the hand stretched out to you, insistent on his offer. When you didn’t respond and instead, tried to rush further ahead, Matthew pressed on. Him managing to keep up with your pace only added fuel to the fire. “Don’t tell me you’re upset over Ron Jon back there.” 

You came to a halt, turning to glare up at him. “I am, Matthew. You didn’t need to do what you did back there. There was no reason for it. It was shitty of you, and I need you to back off while I try to enjoy the rest of my night.” You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling of anger that normally resulted in tears. “You could at least pretend to be sorry about it.” 

With that, you turned on your heel and squeezed your way through the crowds, ignoring Matthew’s calls to stop and come back and that he was only joking. 

Too late for that, you thought bitterly, making a turn towards a street popular for its dining and bar venues. 

-

The part of the archipelago more popular with tourists was truly a sight to behold as the sun went down, coloring the sky in some of the warmest, most calming shades of orange, red and yellow you ever saw. It seemed as if everyone gathered on the promenade, phones at the ready while taking photos of the sky, selfies and group shots. Even you couldn’t resist it and after taking a few well-centered selfies, a passing couple offered to take your photo which you immediately posed for. 

Later, once the sight sunk in, you moved towards a nearby bar, first attracted by the pink, purple and blue neon lights and then, the music. A good cocktail, good music and a gorgeous sunset were all it took for you to feel more relaxed, leaving behind the event from earlier. He wouldn’t be the first cute guy you’d see, nor the last and indeed, it was easy for you to settle in the more crowded area of the locale where people were dancing either solo, with a partner or as part of a group.

Not long after you weaved your way onto the dancefloor, you felt a pair of hands settle on your hips, drawing you in. You went easily, accepting the embrace, accepting the way you were being led into the dance, swaying your hips along with his. You didn’t even miss a beat when he spun you around, but you kept your hands pressed against his shoulders, rather than wrapping your arms around his neck. You were tipsy, no doubt, and admittedly felt touch-starved but you weren’t quite in the mood for anything more. You even dodged his mouth when he tipped his head down to your lips so instead, he landed a kiss on your cheek. Still, he was pretty relentless. The dance took a turn that was significantly more sensual, crossing a line into discomfort, and you felt that was your cue to try and remove yourself from him. It was easy initially. You threw him a small smile and when he caught hold of your hand, you simply motioned you were only going to get a drink, hoping that would keep him where he was with the knowledge you would return. 

When you finally pulled away, you made a bee line towards the exit of the venue but again, you were a step too slow. The guy caught you just at the door.

“Where are you running off to, pretty?” he slurred, his voice louder above the thumping of the music. 

“Oh—Um, just getting a breath of fresh air, is all,” you said quickly and immediately wished you didn’t venture off in a place like this alone. It was as if you suddenly forgot everything that was common sense, pushed towards it by earlier frustration. 

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” He frowned, but there was no clarity in his eyes. He was entirely out of it and his fingers squeezed painfully around your wrist. You flinched visibly, squirming under his touch and even if you tried pulling your arm away, it was useless. He overpowered you even through the drunken haze. “Wanna go? Fine, then let’s go together.” 

“No—uh, I’m actually here with my friends. I’ve just—I saw them so I’m going to catch up with them. They must be looking for—”

“Then we can go to them together, sweetheart. Here, point them out to me.”

“No, really. I’m going to them alone,” you emphasized and put all your force into trying to free your hand. It may have taken him by surprise that led to his loosened grip, but as soon as you turned on your heel, you found out there was more to it than just that.

You almost faceplanted right into Matthew’s chest when you tried making a run for it. He stood there, eyes flicking between you and the guy with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was hammering wildly in your chest and instinctively, you almost glued yourself to his side. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to force a move on you, but it was the first time it was done so in such a thoughtless, drunken manner. Perhaps your fear was also enhanced by being alone in an unfamiliar place. To see Matthew this time felt like a blessing.

“Babe,” Matthew said by way of greeting, pulling you to him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

You didn’t realize you were trembling until you stood so close to him, legs suddenly feeling like jelly in front of your salvation. Matthew could easily overpower the guy; even if they were roughly the same height, there was a big difference between the body of an athlete and the swaying one of a drunk guy. Still, it didn’t mean you wanted Matthew to get caught up in anything he’d later regret or would affect him in any way, so you pressed a hand to his chest trying to put some pressure into guiding him away from the scene.

“She yours?” the drunk guy slurred, head tilting back, chin pointing towards your general direction.

“Yeah. So, guess that makes the situation even worse for you,” Matthew responded. His tone was light, seemingly non-threatening to someone who didn’t know him but you did. You knew him and you could read him crystal clear in this moment. 

“Matthew, please,” you muttered, looking at him almost desperately while trying to put all your body weight into guiding him away. 

The guy scoffed. “You’ve gotta do better than that, buddy.” He snickered. “You’ve gotta keep ‘em on a tighter leash unless you want them to go—”

Matthew made a move towards him, but you quickly stepped in front of him, essentially forcing him to halt. “Matt, please. Let’s go, okay? Please. I really want to leave. Right now.” 

He glared at the guy for a moment longer but the hard look in his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on you. You took the liberty of placing most of your weight against Matthew, allowing him to remove both of you from the situation and towards a less crowded area. That was easy to find: with the sun having long set, most of the crowds cleared away from the promenade so there was plenty of space for you to collect yourself in peace. 

He didn’t pry into the situation, didn’t even make any smartass comments. Instead, he let you slip away from under the safety of his arm while you pace around a small area, trying to work off the anxiety as much as you could. You had to count your breaths, remind yourself to breathe in then out slowly. You were okay. You were far from that guy, and he couldn’t hurt you. At least, no more than he already did. Your wrist felt a bit sore, but you’d take that over anything worse. 

“You okay?” Matthew asked at last, tone careful. “I can go back there and pull him out, you know, get him to apologize.”

“No!” you said loudly, desperately, then cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “No, don’t go. Please. I just need a moment, that’s all. Just a little. Could you not leave? I’ll be fine in a moment. Just—just need to catch my breath—"

“Hey, hey—relax. It’s over. He can’t put a hand down on you now, or ever.” Matthew took a few steps closer to you as if apprehensive to approach you in the first place. You knew what you must’ve looked like: pale, still shaken by what happened. He held a hand towards you, palm up. “Can I touch you?” 

You looked from it to his face, then said, “don’t get any funny ideas,” but it lacked your usual punch. You took his hand though, letting yourself be drawn to him. Matthew smelled like the sea. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d gone down to the beach earlier to take a dip. You wished you did that rather than try and drink your frustration over missing out on a random guy. God, you could sleep right here if sleeping while standing was a thing. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did before—with, uh—what did you call him?” 

Matthew chuckled, a low, deep chuckle. “Ron Jon.” 

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

“And you have a funny way of expressing gratitude.” 

“Sorry—”

He laughed louder. “I’m messing with you.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry I rained on your parade earlier with the guy back then. If you really liked him…” He trailed off, as if to let you fill in the sentence for him.

You laughed weakly, waving a hand dismissively. “Thanks. Again. Seems like nowadays, I just keep having to thank you for one thing or the other.” 

You felt him shrug. “Fine by me. You keep adding to these favors you owe me.” 

“It’s only one. Well. Two if you want to be a dick and count this one too.” 

You took a step back, detaching yourself from him to run both hands through your hair. You felt exhausted, drained of energy yet relieved. Who would’ve thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew pull another one of his appearing out of the blue acts?

“You give me no other choice but to be one,” he joked. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Everyone’s wondering where you were, so you kind of lost your right to vote on dinner for tonight.” 

You sighed heavily. “Let me guess: you all ganged up on me in my absence and settled on lobster?” 

Matthew grinned. “Can’t vacation in a seaside town and skip out on that.” 

“Ugh. Sea critters.” You pulled a face, drawing yet another laugh from Matthew. It made you feel oddly accomplished but you cut that train of thought there, forcing it to derail elsewhere, to place more familiar to you, more comfortable. “Matthew, I mean it when I said thank you. That was—it was scary,” you admitted as the two of you started walking back towards the hotel. You pulled your wrist into your hand, rubbing at the skin gently. Focused on the road ahead, you missed Matthew frowning down at the gesture. “I don’t know how that happened. It’s just—it’s not my thing to do. Go out alone, especially in a place like that. Good instincts by the way,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice tight. “I don’t want to think about it again if I can help it.” 

You cast a confused stare in his direction but by then, it was his turn to look ahead, a frown marring his features. You didn’t push any further though. 

Later that night, after you and Anna decided to call it a day and switch off the lights, you lay in bed glancing a look up at the ceiling above. You didn’t think back on the evening’s events but rather, thought back to how a familiar small brown paper bag was taped to your room’s door before dinner. Anna had fixed you with a knowing stare as you plucked it off the door, tipping its contents into the palm of your hand. 

Then, you thought how during dinner, Matthew had claimed the seat next to yours and complimented the earrings you wore, remarking how awfully familiar they seemed though he could swear he didn’t know where from. For the first time, you had an inside joke to share with him and neither of you bothered to offer any clarifications to everyone else around the table as they tried to press for details. 

three.

The Flames’ first game of the season was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas and with a few days left of vacation, you couldn’t skip on the opportunity to return to the city you were inexplicably fond of, as well as watching your brother play on the third line. The night promised to be unforgettable, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although there were plenty of things to keep you busy throughout the day, your eyes would occasionally wander down to your watch, counting down the hours until the start of the game. It seemed like most of the city was doing the same.

Often, you’d spot handfuls of people donning Knights jerseys and occasionally, there would be a few Flames fans wandering the streets and locales. You’d only spotted one person wearing your brother’s jersey but that was more than enough for you – he was a fairly new face in the professional league, but he certainly pulled his weight during every shift he had on ice whenever given the opportunity. Luckily, you managed to take a quick photo of their back before they disappeared into the crowds, sending it to your brother along with a thumbs-up emoji. 

He didn’t respond immediately, nor did you expect him to. You could only imagine how quickly he racked up pre-game nerves and he had a pretty strict routine, which included avoiding his phone until after the game. You couldn’t really make sense of superstitions even if each member of your family who played, whether professionally or otherwise, had their own. Naturally, you were surprised when your phone pinged, indicating a new message almost half an hour later. Except, it wasn’t quite who you were expecting.

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

You frowned, but all it took was a little more attention on your part to notice you hadn’t sent the message to your brother but rather, to Matthew. Lately, he was one of your top contacts for frequent messaging.

You wrong number

You good luck to you too though, i guess :/ 

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

Matthew [attachment: photo of an ice rink where a few players were captured in motion]

Matthew [attachment: photo of his skates, taken from the players’ bench]

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing? 

You [emoji: middle finger] 

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

You then go handle ice cold so you don’t get handled tonight

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition 

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

You good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Matthew :) 

You dropped your phone on the table with a low groan, slouching in your chair. From across the table, Anna shot you a confused stare which quickly morphed into understanding when you rolled your eyes, shooting your phone a look of frustration as if the device itself was to blame. 

“Anything interesting?” she asked in a singsong tone. 

“If you count Matthew being his usual self interesting, then that’s what’s up. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“By his usual self, do you mean engaging? Funny? Witty? So good with his words that he yet again takes your attention and keeps it while the rest of us, mere mortals, struggle to do that for longer than a few minutes tops?” 

You arched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “All that – just empty words.” 

Anna leaned back in her seat, taking her glass with her while twirling the straw, looking ahead somewhat thoughtfully. “You know what the two of you remind me of? Those two kids in the playground who think love can only be expressed through pulling hair and making snide remarks.” 

“First of all, that’s a shitty way of trying to get someone to realize you have feelings for them and second of all, love is a pretty big word. You managing to carry it okay?” 

“Okay, maybe not love. But like? It has to be like. Say what you want to say but it looks different from the outside.” 

“Okay, you keep staying out there and let me know what you’re seeing. I like your imagination. Very vivid,” you commented but there was no bite to your words and Anna threw her head back with laughter. 

You didn’t think much of your exchange with Matthew throughout the rest of the day, nor did you try to linger too long on Anna’s interpretation of your relationship with Matthew. You let it wash over you, knowing it’d give her too much satisfaction if you fretted too much over it and anyway, many of your thoughts seemed to fly towards the evening’s game. 

By the time the two of you made your way to the arena, however, you moved from anxiety to excitement within the space of mere moments, apparently. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo and you’d been to countless games before, there was nothing quite like the thrill of an opening game. You and Anna had spaces reserved in the upper stands along with other family members and significant others but both of you chose to watch the warm-ups close-up, so you hung around by the glass at ice level. 

The Vegas Knights and the Flames stepped on the ice to a combination of cheers and the thump of a loud electronic mix. You spotted your brother almost instantly. He did a quick lap around the team’s half of the ice before pulling a puck towards him with his stick, sliding it this way and that before shooting it over towards the net. Once sufficiently warmed up, he cast a searching look around the rink and you quickly waved both arms up in the air to try and get his attention. You knew he’d spotted you, but he made an entire show out of looking over you until you smacked a hand against the panel. You knew the sound wouldn’t be heard over the general noise of the arena, but he still laughed. When he skated over, you held your phone up, giving it a quick shake and mouthing “selfie?”. 

He flashed a thumbs up and you quickly turned around to take the photo, but it wasn’t until you inspected it afterwards that you noticed you were photobombed by Matthew himself. You had every intention to look up from the screen and somehow try and get his attention only to glare at him, but he was a step ahead. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed Matthew standing right there by the glass, smirking at you.

“Asshole,” you mouthed, not daring to voice it out given you were surrounded by kids.

Matthew winked, skated to collect a stray puck then threw it up over the boards towards one of the kids standing right next to you. The kid was clearly thrilled by the gesture, bouncing up and down with the puck held over his head as if it were a trophy. You couldn’t help it: your heart melted at the sight, so you simply nodded once at Matthew, apparently just in time as the warm-up countdown reached zero.

You weren’t surprised the home team were putting on such a show for the opening night. There was a little bit of Vegas in every opening act: from the fireworks set off outside the arena to the showgirls and mind-blowing animations projected down on the ice, it felt more of a Stanley Cup playoff game than the start of a regular season game. This was Vegas and no one did it quite like Vegas did, you had to give that to them. 

Both teams were almost evenly balanced throughout the first period but stepping out of intermissions and into the second, the Flames started powering ahead. It was as if something had clicked together even better and they functioned as a well-oiled machine, both in offence and defense. By the end of that period, they were leading the Knights 3-2 and you were more than elated your brother had earned himself an assist. Like all games, tensions formed quickly, and the third period saw both teams play aggressively. On several occasions, you caught sight of players clearly chirping each other even while heading towards their respective benches after the end of a shift. Once, Matthew seemed to be involved in a seemingly endless yelling match with a player on the opposing team. There were more checks against the panels, an impressive number of penalties drawn by both teams, and it felt as if the atmosphere was just tethering towards a fight.

It happened right after the Flames scored the fourth goal with just two minutes left of the game. 

The moment the puck was dropped at center ice, you watched as Matthew charged ahead towards one of the Knights players who didn’t hesitate to drop the gloves. Between them, Matthew had the faster instinct, and he landed the first punch, effectively forcing both players to fall to the ice while the referees scrambled to try and split them apart. They were there a moment too late, just mere seconds after you caught sight of knuckles scraping along Matthew’s mouth on the big screens above. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a graze but once he was separated and made his way towards the Flames bench, you noticed several spots of blood on his jersey on the screens above that made you almost jump out of your seat.

Sure, this was a familiar sight, but it didn’t alleviate the sheer shock and restlessness. Whatever had happened between them must’ve been a pretty big deal to set Matthew off the way it did. There was no way of sugarcoating it: the fight was vicious. More than ever, you wanted the period countdown to reach zero so you could go down to the lockers. It wasn’t just a few nagging feelings towards Matthew that led you to react the way you did. He was a friend, after all, so worrying for him was simply natural. An expected way of responding to a situation like that. 

“He had it worse before, remember?” Anna reminded you as you followed the small stream of relatives and friends down towards the players’ rooms.

“Still looked pretty bad to me,” you responded, briefly pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Before she could continue being the voice of reason, you added in a light tone, “I just want to see if he had any teeth knocked out of his mouth this time around.”

It took some time before the players filed out and as you watched them come out one by one, you almost wished you saved this for somewhere less…well, public. Sure, you were just a friend checking on a friend, but you wished you could do that without an audience. 

Your brother emerged first, beaming, no doubt pleased with the win, and you hugged him tightly, easily sharing his joy. 

“He’s just getting ready to come out now,” he informed you, heading nodding back towards the locker.

You blinked. “What? Oh—no, I’m just. I was waiting for you to say congratulations. What are you even talking about,” you mumbled but inevitably, your eyes were drawn towards the locker room as the door swung open and Matthew stepped out.

His hair was still damp but already curling again. He was dressed in the same suit he probably arrived in, a simple light grey number that fit him perfectly. He had his backpack on also and in one hand, he carried an apparently ice-cold bottle of water while the other was pressing an ice pack to the corner of his mouth. When you made eye contact, he frowned lightly and for a moment, seemed almost hesitant to approach you. This time, you were a step ahead and cornered him before he decided to walk away.

You nodded your head once, indicating in his general direction. “What? You’re trying to add to the family’s hefty dentist bill by getting a few teeth knocked out already?”

Matthew shrugged. “It’s not hockey without a few scraps now and then.”

“For a guy who got a goal and an assist, you sure don’t look too pleased with that.” 

At that comment, Matthew’s expression shifted, lightening up considerably. “Are you keeping track of my stats now?”

“What? No, Tkachuk. I was doing what everyone else in that arena was doing: paying attention generally speaking.” 

Suddenly, his entire face scrunched up in pain and he almost doubled over as he groaned. Instinctively, you reached out for him, eyes widening a little when bending down a little to try and look at his face. 

“Oh my god—Matthew. Are you okay? Do you need me to get a medic to check—” 

You frowned as soon as you felt his shoulders tremble under your touch. Slowly, it dawned on you he was laughing. Laughing. You slapped his shoulder lightly, the gesture more a tap than anything else and you started walking down the corridor quickly, trying to catch up with everyone else as they filed out of the arena. 

“Hey, hey, wait, Y/N! Come on, don’t be mad,” he called out after you and you heard him jog to catch up with you. When he did, he took a couple more steps ahead then stepped in your path, walking backwards to match your pace. “I was only messing around. I couldn’t not do that. You should’ve seen your face, honestly.” 

“My face? Hope you’ve seen yours. I’m not mad. Me being mad would basically mean you managed to get to me which you really didn’t, so don’t give yourself any credit, Tkachuk,” you responded. “You just reminded me you’re still a dick so thanks for that.” 

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.” 

“If you’re searching for sympathy, you’re looking for it in the wrong place,” you informed him, side stepping him so that he resumed walking at your side instead. After a few moments of silence, you conceded with a sigh. “Seriously speaking. How’s your mouth?”

“Don’t think I’ll need fillers, let’s just say.” He removed his hand from his mouth, and you looked over. 

Thankfully, it seemed that putting ice on it quickly was paying off. The area was somewhat red, but no significant damage seemed to be visible to the untrained eye. He was certainly miles better than he was just months ago. 

“Looks okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “What happened? Honestly, it looked pretty intense from the outside.” 

Matthew didn’t respond and you didn’t press him for details even after you stepped out into the balmy Vegas night. If he chose to not share with you, then you guessed it must’ve been either pretty personal or pretty stupid. You leaned more towards the former. You didn’t even complain when he followed you to the car you hired, claiming the passenger seat. Before you also stepped inside, a message pinged in from Anna informed you she had taken off with Johnny for dinner but promised to be back in the room in a few to catch up.

You didn’t start the engine when you fixed your seatbelt and instead, leaned your head back against the rest, watching a few other vehicles pull out of the car park. In his seat, Matthew was looking out of the window to his left, heading resting against a loosely formed fist propped up against the door. 

“He was talking shit about you,” he said at last, but didn’t turn to you when he spoke. 

“Who was?” 

“The guy on the other team. He made a comment about you towards your brother at the end of the shift. Something about… I don’t know, something crude, vulgar. Don’t really remember it.” 

You didn’t quite believe him on the last part, but you allowed it anyway. “Okay… Well, I don’t know the guy anyway, so it didn’t matter, Matthew. You should have let it slip by or left my brother to deal with it.” Then, out of curiosity, you asked, “why didn’t you?”

More silence. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a passing car would cut through it but it, too, would be gone in seconds.

“Because I couldn’t.”

You pursed your lips and your fingers clenched then unclenched in your lap. You placed your hands on the steering wheel, then dropped them away before settling them back on it after starting the engine. 

“Thanks, I guess. You just keep making me owe you favors.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“So, I’ll clear that now with dinner. Just please don’t tell me you’re going to need to be on a smoothie diet. I’ll feel bad eating something really good while you’re there with a strawberry and banana drink. Not that I’d stop eating though, just so you know. But it’s the thought that counts,” you said and finally, finally he chuckled quietly. 

“No smoothie diets this time.”

You sighed dramatically. “Maybe no smoothie diets ever?”

Matthew shrugged. He was still not meeting your eyes but that was okay. “Can’t promise that. Kind of comes with the job. Just in case though, I like the sweeter stuff more. Triple chocolate, Oreo pieces, peanut butter.” 

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll file that under information I don’t care to know about.” 

“I’m injured. Show some sympathy,” he demanded without heat, finally turning to you. 

You cooed then reached out with one of your hands to pat his cheek lightly. “Aw, really searching for it in the wrong place.”

“I’ll make do with what I can get,” he allowed, and you could swear he leaned into your touch, but you tore your hand away before either of you got too comfortable. 

four.

Matthew called in his favor after a few of his teammates agreed where to host their Halloween party. 

“Kind of sounds like you’re the one asking for a favor,” you commented, planting yourself at your kitchen table while securing the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Matthew sighed on the other end. “Sort of. Who does a themed Halloween party anyway? The theme itself is Halloween.” 

“You’re not wrong about that. Could be fun though, a bit more unique. So, what’s the theme for this year?” 

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation. 

You stilled and were grateful he wasn’t in the same room as you. It took you a great deal more energy over the course of the past few months to convince yourself that Matthew didn’t attract you in one way or another. His looks aside, it was rare you came across someone who could easily keep up with your snide remarks and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that there was more to Matthew than just being a typical athlete with his share of well-deserved fame. He was funny, dedicated and undoubtedly, caring. You had some first-hand experience with the latter. After all, he didn’t owe you anything to make him obligated to jump into whatever weird situation you found yourself in.

You warmed to him little by little. If you found him attractive, well that was for you alone to know though it made everything just that more difficult. Thankfully, Matthew seemed pretty oblivious to it or at least, he was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t catch you staring at him on several occasions or the few times you took a discrete step back if it felt like you were too close to him. Knowing he was asking you to go together as a couple (pretend couple, you corrected yourself) only added to the difficulty of coming to terms with your…crush. 

Puppy love, you assured yourself. It’ll go as quickly as it came. 

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, still here. Guess it sucks another year will go by without the opportunity to bring out your Fortnite costume.”

“Oh, come on. I wouldn’t dress like a game character!”

“Matthew,” you warned.

There was a pause, then, “okay, fine. Maybe I would. So, can you come?” 

You shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I owe it to you, don’t I?”

“Great! Hey, choose something good for us. There’s going to be a prize for best dressed and I have my eyes on it.”

“I think we can both agree my creativity will not let us down. I’ll text you my idea. You just make sure you actually stick to it, so I don’t end up looking stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I won’t dump you on Halloween.”

“Good to know I won’t end up traumatized and have my favorite holiday ruined,” you said, by way of goodbye.

-

“Hey, spin around for me once. You look good. Blonde’s not bad on you.” 

“No color’s bad on me,” you responded but refused to entertain Matthew by complying with his request. Instead, you rang the bell to Noah’s apartment after the door didn’t budge when Matthew tried the handle. 

“Come on, just a spin,” Matthew insisted, nudging his elbow into your own then pressed the doorbell himself once again – hard, as if that would make it ring louder.

“Only if you dance for me and do the entire Greased Lightning choreography without missing a step.” 

Matthew feigned a groan and you shot him an amused look. Before you could even comment on that, the door opened, and Noah stood at the threshold. The ruckus from inside spilled out into the corridor and from what you could see beyond him, it was a full house of all sorts of characters. 

“Wow! Sandy and Danny! Finally, someone with really good taste,” Noah said by way of greeting and he looked towards you pointedly. 

You flashed him a grin. “Always a pleasure to exceed expectations,” you responded and stepped into his open arms, a clear invitation for an embrace that was shortly broken apart by Matthew.

“Hey, none of that man,” he said, pulling you back and easily holding most of your weight as you broke into a laugh that had you stumbling into his side. “I didn’t even get to tell her she’s the one that I want.” 

“Yeah, well, you better shape up ‘cause I need a man,” you responded, without missing a beat though you couldn’t help but replay his words in your mind. They sounded a lot like a broken record that you desperately wished to stop immediately before this…thing went way too far and spun out of control.  

You were both led towards a photo wall and if you had any nerves about striking good poses without at least some liquid courage first, all that vanished. To your surprise, Matthew easily took the lead initially, falling to his knees in front of you in an attempt to recreate the part where a smitten Danny fell before Sandy, completely and utterly overwhelmed by her presence. Despite it being difficult to control your laughter, you played along with ease. At first, you were simply grinning down at him but you couldn’t let all his in-character effort go to waste, so you turned, casting a glance down towards him over your shoulder. To your side, Noah’s flash was going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the two of you from the best angle, together with cheers of encouragement. For your second pose, you rested your arms on Matthew’s shoulders once he rose back to his full height and his hands held on to either side of your torso. Again, the flash went off and again, the two of you changed pose into something more casual: him, standing behind you with his palms on your hips while you place a hand on his face, grinning at the camera. The flash went off again and he whooped loudly.

“I’m never inviting both of you to a party with this theme again,” Noah muttered, feigning disgruntlement. “You can’t come into my home and kill it like that.” 

“Blame the one who came up with this idea in the first place,” Matthew defended, holding both hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence. 

It was true. The idea to dress as Danny and Sandy from Grease came to you fairly quickly. You knew the two were a popular go-to, but you enjoyed the movie greatly. Plus, it was a great opportunity for you to pull out a pair of red heels you invested a hefty sum of money into. And, well, admittedly there was something about Matthew that made you think he’d suit the role just fine. When you shared your idea with him, he was on board from the start without complaining or suggesting alternatives. You were grateful for that: when Matthew picked you up earlier, dressed in an all-black outfit, leather jacket and hair styled to rival John Travolta’s, you gave yourself a mental pat on your shoulder. If any photos would go up on the internet, you were pretty sure Instagram would be grateful to you. Certainly, you knew Chantal and Keith would get a kick out of it for sure.

“Guilty as charged,” you acknowledged. “I’m going to look for Anna. Catch you later.” You gave a wave to the both of them before making your way towards the hub of activity where couple costumes ranged from peanut butter and jelly to superheroes. 

She was fairly easy to locate, in part because she told you she and Johnny would dress as Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. The red, blue and gold of her outfit were unmissable even in a sea of costumes. As soon as she spotted you approaching, she made a beeline and wrapped an arm around yours.

“Tell me you and Matthew will recreate the entire You’re the One That I Want scene,” she pleaded. “Please tell me that at some point this evening, you’ll tell us to clear the dancefloor so the two of you can have your moment.”

You rolled your eyes, dragging her along towards a table hosting drinks and small bites. “There’s no moment we’re going to be having.” 

“Because you don’t want to or because you want to so badly that you don’t know how to ask him? I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.” 

“Neither,” you muttered but even you’d be able to hear the lack of conviction in your tone from a mile away. 

To take your mind off it, you poured yourself a glass of red wine, taking a tentative sip from it. Across the room, Matthew had deposited his black leather jacket away and started making rounds around the room. You took a longer sip from your wine and looked away. 

Anna fixed you with a knowing stare which you refused to acknowledge, but she knew you like the back of her hand. “It’s okay to say you like him, you know,” she advised, and you hated the soothing tone she tried to take when saying that. It felt more pitying than anything, as if you hadn’t already had your share of disappointments in love—or, relationships better said. 

“Who said anything about liking him? He’s not bad to look at I’ll admit, but that’s where it stops.” You frowned, looking out of the nearest nearby window that gave a broad view of the city below. “That’s where I want it to stop,” you admitted, this time quieter. 

You were well aware that you were occasionally trying to look for a narrative that was most convenient for late night thoughts when you had the peace and privacy to think of him as you wished. The reality couldn’t be more different, though, and you knew that. Matthew was helpful to you before because he was good friends with your brother and eventually, you realized that it was just part of his nature. Beyond being successful, beyond his fame and recognition, Matthew was kind and funny and respectful. It was just that you didn’t give him the chance to before and now that you got to know him better, you suddenly realized that…what? You’d like the first man who gives you a helping hand? If that were the case, you should’ve gotten the memo sooner: it would’ve been easier liking the tech guy from work who once debugged your laptop.

It wasn’t doing you any good to try and look for a ‘but’ in every situation: Matthew is helpful because he’s good friends with my brother but it’s not like that should force him to act as if we’re romantically involved not once or twice or thrice but now, four times. Regardless of how you looked at it, that reeked of desperation. You were in that weird period in your life where it felt as if everyone around you was in a relationship, so maybe that mood translated to you. 

That’s right, you settled. That’s what was possibly behind these thoughts of yours. You found Matthew attractive – and what? So did plenty of other people. You saw him surrounded by girls after practice, after matches, while out. What you felt was nothing special. It felt easier to think of it that way, even if for a few hours to truly enjoy the party without having that lurking at the back of your mind. 

You mingled easily, danced with Anna, danced with other players’ girlfriends and wives, danced with your brother, even attempted a few traditional Russian dances taught by Nikita, Artyom and a few of their friends, that left you breathless by their rapid pace and intricate footwork. 

“I’m done!” you declared, breathless and almost swaying on your feet when another Russian folk song came to an end but thankfully, you managed to hold steady before you could catch a ride on the hot mess express. “Absolutely wasted. Knocked out.” You stepped away, tired but euphoric and dropped rather unceremoniously on one of the available couches pushed against a wall. 

“Having fun?” Matthew asked and there was a light flush on his cheeks you knew wasn’t from dancing. There was even just a slight slur to his speech.

“The most,” you replied, breathless, and accepted the drink he held out to you. You took a sip without questioning him what was in the glass, only to find out for yourself he was settling for harder stuff tonight. “But never let it be said that anyone can keep up with Russians because let me tell you,” you whistled quietly, “we’re a couple of steps behind. Plenty of steps behind, actually.” 

Matthew flashed a lazy smile and you briefly spared a moment to envy him for how kept together he remained despite being evidently buzzed. “’s okay. At least we’re the better dressed ones so we lose in style.” 

You took another sip from his glass, holding it out to him with a smirk. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in what you hoped was a low, alluring tone of voice but no sooner did you think that, and you were reduced to embarrassed laughter. “Forget about that! Forget it, forget it! Where’s the delete button?” 

“I didn’t come equipped with that,” he declared proudly, finishing off what was left of his drink. “C’mere, you can show me a couple of those steps you learned.” 

He stood, a little unsteadily initially then held a hand to you. You knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull you up properly, so you stood easily fully intent to actually lead him through some of the steps. Except, Matthew was definitely swaying more than you thought he would. There was something inexplicably amusing about the situation and instead of directing him towards the center of the room, you steered him away from it and towards a small bathroom you were shown to earlier that night when you needed some time to re-touch your makeup. 

“Where’re we going?” he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder towards the living room with a look that could only be read as longing. 

“To cool down a little and then you can learn as many folk dances as you want. Believe me, you need to be alert for them. Can’t miss a step,” you advised, trying to steady him by wrapping an arm around him though the difference in weight between the two of you couldn’t compare. Still, you managed to get him into the bathroom safely without either of you making a mess of yourselves or the room. 

“Are you gonna cool down too?” he questioned. 

“Sure thing, definitely need it.” 

“Good, we’ll cool down together.” With that, he made a move to open the glass partition for the shower cubicle but thankfully, you were significantly more alert than he was and managed to prevent him from doing anything more than that.

“Not that sort of cool down. Here, sit here,” you encouraged, lowering the lid on the toilet so Matthew could drop down. You doubted you’d be able to hold much of his strength above the sink if you were to help him splash some cold water on his face.

“But I want that sort of cool down,” he slurred. “With you. Us two. You said you want to cool down too. Could be a couple activity.” He grinned, as if proud of himself. 

Thankfully, Matthew was buzzed enough to miss the flush on your face, the slight shake of your hand as you arranged a towel around his neck to prevent too much overspill before turning the tap on. 

“Can’t do that, Matthew. Here, this will be much better, I promise.” 

“Wanna try though,” he mumbled but was still compliant as you pressed a wet, cool palm against his forehead, then either of his cheeks. “Not cool enough.” His complaint was accompanied by a frown which only morphed into a lazy smirk when he leaned back, trying to pull you with him. “C’mon, Y/N. It’s a couple’s Halloween night.” 

“Matthew, we’re not a couple,” you said gently, pushing your palms against his shoulders in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. Before it was too late. Before you allowed yourself to get drawn into a drunk man’s ramblings. 

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.” 

You put all your strength into breaking away from his hold and thankfully, managed to do so. Your heart was hammering in your chest as if desperately trying to release itself from the cage of your ribs. 

“Matthew, you’re drunk. Here, splash some cold water on your face so you can come back to your senses.” 

“But I’m not drunk,” he insisted and as if to demonstrate, he stood up quickly. He swayed on the spot, stretching out his arms a little and once he found his footing, he looked towards you with an expression that mixed pride with hopefulness. “See? Definitely okay—”

You frowned, feeling a little caged in. You should’ve left the door open at least. “Okay, then let’s go back out there, yeah? I can get an Uber and I’ll take you home if you prefer that?” 

“Yes,” he said, then leaned back against the door. “Only if you come with me.” 

You exhaled, suddenly tired as if the exchange was working every ounce of energy out of you. “I’ll come to make sure you’re okay and can make it to your bed okay.”

“I can though. I can definitely make it there even on my own and you know why? Because I’m not drunk,” Matthew insisted and when you shot him a look of disbelief, he peeled himself away from the door. “Look, look I can prove it to you I’m not drunk.” 

Before you could even ask him to walk a straight line without stumbling his steps, Matthew’s arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand pressed on the back of your head, bringing you closer until your lips met. Kissing Matthew was like everything you imagined and more. He even did that with the same passion with which he skated on ice, chasing puck after puck. It left you breathless how well he worked his lips against your own as if all along, he knew how to do that in such way that it’d leave your legs feeling like jelly. Beyond that though, it felt comfortable. Not forceful despite him having not asked if he could do it in the first place, yet it still felt right. You tasted sweetness on his mouth and the sharp tang of whiskey. Vaguely, you knew nothing else could compare. It was that thought that made you push away from him with as much force as you could muster, ducking under his arm and towards the door. 

“I’ll ask someone to take you home,” you said without even looking his way before leaving dashing out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Anna asked you when you ran into her. Quite literally. 

“Uh—yeah. No, actually. I think I feel a bit unwell so I’m going to head home, okay?” 

You made a move to leave but her arm stopped you. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Above her shoulder, you saw Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a little dazzled, eyes searching the room. Before he could even spot you, you quickly freed yourself from her hold and nodded. “Will be. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t rush back, okay? Tell Alex I said thanks for the invite.” 

You didn’t stumble a step in your heels as you jogged towards the door, making a swift exit before you attracted even more attention.

+ one.

Matthew left no calls and no messages, but that was fine. You didn’t spend time trying to build your expectations of anything like that happening because drunk words weren’t always sober thoughts. The event was just something you had to deal with and if you had to do it alone, then so be it. Reasonably speaking, you and Matthew went from nothing to friends and if you caught feelings along the way, then that was your mistake for letting yourself slip like that. You were left broken hearted once, you really didn’t want to go through that again especially over someone that wasn’t even really and truly yours to begin with.

So, the next morning, you woke up at a reasonably early hour despite the late night but felt energized enough to sweep through your apartment and collect the garments you tossed carelessly on your way to bed after arriving at home. You said a heartfelt goodbye to Sandy, apologizing that in this scenario, her and Danny didn’t end up driving off in a red convertible. After that, you showered and changed in a fresh set of clothes even if the day would most likely be spent indoors. It was a fitting conclusion to the Halloween weekend, and you could do with some downtime, really.

Anna must’ve stayed with Johnny because regardless of how much noise you made, she didn’t emerge from the room and after fixing a quick breakfast and brewing coffee to continued silence, you knew you were right. It didn’t bother you. You’d make full use of the couch and stretch out on it properly as you flicked through your Netflix account and for the sake of sticking to weekend morning traditions, you selected a lighthearted sitcom. You were halfway through the third episode when your doorbell rang. You could’ve sworn Anna had a spare key of her own unless she misplaced it or forgot it home. Not entirely out of question.

Except, it wasn’t Anna who greeted you when you opened the door.

“Oh.” You coughed lightly, crossing your arms then unfolding them, then leaning one against the doorway before dropping it to your side. “Hey—uh. Hey Tkachuk, isn’t it a bit early for you to be out and about? You were smashed the last time I saw you.” 

Matthew looked over your shoulder into the apartment, as if checking to see if you were alone. “Can I come in?” 

Defeated, you stepped to the side and cleared the way for him to step inside before pushing the door closed. Part of you wished you’d dressed up as if you were ready to head off somewhere. You weren’t quite ready nor willing to face whatever music Matthew had in mind for you. 

In the aftermath of the party, out of the flashiness of the costume, Matthew seemed to be perfectly clear-headed despite the state you’d left him in. The curls atop his head seemed soft despite the natural frizz and as he passed by, you caught a whiff of sharp cologne and fresh bodywash. 

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?” 

“No?”

“Kind of sounds like it, though?” You laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood. It was bad enough the weather outside was gloomy, autumn settling in full force. Now, you had to deal with a Matthew who looked as if he wasn’t sure he came to the right place. “Coffee?” you asked, already leading the way towards the kitchen. You heard him follow behind you just moments later. While you poured a full cup for him, he hovered by the table, making you frown at him. “What’s wrong with you? You need an invite to sit down and relax? Seriously, Matthew, you look like you should be in bed.” 

“You left last night without saying anything,” he said instead. 

“Uh—yeah. I was kind of tired and I wanted it to call it a night early so—”

“Was it because of what I said or what I did?” 

You almost dropped the coffee cup, but fortunately only startled enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim and down the back of your hand, causing you to hiss in pain. You cursed quietly and, in an instant, Matthew crossed over the room and took the cup from you, setting it down on the table before leading you towards the sink. As if used to this, he placed your hand under ice cold water and once the sharp pain numbed, you pushed his hand away, taking a step to the side in an attempt to put more distance between you. 

“It’s fine, I’ve got this,” you mumbled, holding your hand still under the jet for a few more seconds before closing it.

It was hardly worth the fuss, but it gave you a reason to make yourself busy with something other than freaking out. It couldn’t be that he remembered anything. It couldn’t be that he was standing in your kitchen, thinking that it was a good idea to just open up that subject when you were so ready to take a shovel to it and bury it six feet under. 

“Didn’t you get tired of it at all?” he tried again.

“Tired of what?”

“Of pretending. Of only acting like we’re together for one reason or the other—”

“Matthew, I asked you only once and you know why. I apologized then but if it helps you sleep better at night, I’ll apologize again for dragging you into my mess. I don’t know what the point is of this discussion—”

“The point,” he said, raising his voice but only to cut through your speech. “The point is that I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be by your side and pretend. It got to a stage where I don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t, and I feel as if the only time I’ll know that for sure will be when you find someone, so you no longer need to turn to me to pretend.” 

“Matthew, I’m not using you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re coming at me with this out of the blue and I don’t even understand what this is all about,” you argued, waving a hand between the two of you. 

Matthew clenched his jaw. You watched as he flexed it and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you again? I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I want last night.” 

“You were drunk last night, is what you were. You could hardly put a foot in front of the other.” 

“You know that’s not true,” he retorts, lifting his arms then dropping them back down to his sides. “I was sober enough to know damn well what I said and why I said it. If you want to keep pretending even now, even at this point, then you go ahead and do that but let me be clear with you again and you take what you want from it: I don’t want to pretend with you anymore. I want to be with you. You want to know what that feels like? It feels a lot like being so close to something you want, literally having that thing dangled right in front of you only to have it snatched just when you think it’s yours. Me kissing you last night? I’m sorry I forced it on you, I could’ve gone about doing it differently but I’m not sorry for what I feel. That was all me and not the alcohol. So, you take this and do what you want with it.”

You stared at him, disbelieving your ears. It wouldn’t surprise you if that was the case: you did wake up surprisingly refreshed even after an emotionally charged night, so for all you knew, you could be dreaming this. 

“Matthew, what are you—That’s, you’re kidding me with this right? You can’t. You can’t possibly think that.” 

“And why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. Are you even hearing yourself talk?” 

“Why doesn’t it make sense? Want me to go about it differently? If you let me pull your hair, I’ll let you push me in the sandbox.” 

You were suffering from a strange, ill-timed case of déjà vu. Part of you wanted to laugh at the situation but the bigger part of you triumphed, thankfully. You released a breath you had been holding, bringing both hands up to cover your face, taking some moments to yourself. Or perhaps, you’d lost track of time because eventually, you heard Matthew sigh and felt his fingers wrap around each wrist though he didn’t put pressure to tug your hands down from your face.

“Sorry. I’m just—I’m not doing this the right way. I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing my feelings on you and that you should accept them. If I misread us—you at any point, then fine. Just, we can drop it here and I’ll deal with it but—”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I just need a moment. Sorry. You really caught me by surprise. I didn’t… I thought everything you said last night…what you did… I thought that was just, well, just the alcohol. So, I did the best thing I knew to do and, uh, left.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” he reminded you quietly and this time, you dropped your hands away from your face so you could look up at him. 

He was so handsome. Ridiculously handsome in his casual clothes. Briefly, you thought back to the time you first found safety in his arms and wondered if maybe… Well, why not. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, fingers clinging to the thick material of his hoodie while you faceplanted against his chest and breathed him in.

You liked Matthew. You liked Matthew so much that the admission overwhelmed you so much that you squeezed him to you, trying desperately to bring him closer. The gesture seemed to prompt him into action, and he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then to the base of your throat once he’d lowered his head there. 

“Me too. I want to be with you too. Really be with you. No more of this pretend stuff,” you told him, your voice muffled against his body, but you knew he caught every word.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “We won Noah’s competition last night.”

“Bet he did it because of your long face,” you commented, unable to help yourself. “What did we win?” 

Matthew made a move to step back, but you clung to him, much to your embarrassment. It seemed as if your body acted out of sync with your mind, but who could blame it when Matthew stood right there, right before you. Turned out he only took a step back to lift you off your feet and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, arms resting loosely around his neck. You leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to his mouth as he stumbled away from the kitchen while you stole another kiss. And then, just because you could, a third. 

“A voucher to a seafood restaurant,” he informed you, breaking into a laugh when you groaned, throwing your head back in sheer frustration even if you had a strong feeling he was only messing with you.

“Remind me to never put so much effort if that’s what the stake are.” 

“Noted. Next time, I’ll tell you we could just stay home for Halloween and play by our rules. Outfits optional. Probably not recommended.” 

“That’s…really not what I said.” 

“I’m reading between the lines. See? We know each other so well.” 

You laughed as he carried you all the way into your room without even as much as breaking a sweat. That was definitely some food for thought at a later point.

[thefanficmonster]

Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends. 

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well. 

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“ 

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“ 

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling. 

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in. 

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either. 

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

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[quirklessidiot]

Title: pretty eyes [short story] Pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn!reader [soulmate au; takes place eight years before the yuuji and sukuna fusion] Genre: josei, romance, fluff, comedy, and your normal tragic angst!

Summary: in which the right eye is mine and the left eye is yours and when we meet for the first time, you see your own eyes staring back at you. Warnings: language, blood, minor manga spoilers, mild ooc gojo and death

Notes:  can we all just sit down admire satoru? Like the eyes man, the attitude omg... Ah im so sorry in advance  if hes ooc here sksksk it is my first time to write about any jjk characters and I havent fully grasped them yet despite reading the manga anyways i wont be online next week and tomorrow so i decided to publish this ahead of time. ily all and again thank you for the love and support, it does mean a lot *bows down* see you all again when i’ve got time? jskskss i fucking hate college and online classes, satoru save me please soulmate au’s [not read in any particular order nor are they connected, they just share the same trope]  Pretty eyes [gojo vers.] ||  lasting blues [toji vers]

tragic soulmate au series || taglist 

“Pretty.” were the very first words you uttered in complete awe as you saw yourself in the mirror and no, this wasn’t directed to your physical appearance. It was directed to your left eye, the eye of your soulmate.

Contrasting to your normal boring color on the right, your soulmate’s eyes were ethereal and unreal. How could someone have such pretty eyes? It was completely surreal at that point that you refused to believe that someone with these eyes were actually human.

You placed one hand and gently caressed the left side of your face where the pretty eye rested, “You must be an angel.” you muttered, “Only angels have pretty eyes.”

Thus      like every child     you gave your soulmate a nickname, ‘pretty angel’  and every night before you slept, you’d wonder out loud how your pretty angel was doing, if they were nearby, or anything like that. You wonder what type of food they like, do they like to leave the window open for a cool wind or do they like their chocolate hot or iced.

Yet as you grew older, the pretty angel faded out into your thoughts. The pretty idea of soulmates and love disappeared like the story books you read as a child. The pretty blue eyes on your left is forgotten as life takes a toll on you.

They say death was inevitable, when your mother died in middle school, you watch as your father’s left eye turn to your mother’s color. You watched as he clenched her hand, like it was some last resort of plea. You watched him cry as he passed by the mirrors and you wondered, would it hurt like that too?

It baffles you how beautiful and cruel the soulmate system was.

How every time your father would stare at his own reflection, his left eye would be nothing but a reminder of your dead mother.

You let out a second meek cough in the quiet bookstore that night, the sounds of the car passing by were nothing but quiet noise to you as you immerse yourself in the literature book you were reading, your students would surely love this one.You let out another cough as you turn around to find a small space to read since standing for too long made you tired too quickly. 

You’re too enchanted by the words of the author that you don’t even notice the rather tall man in front of you.

You look up, ready to give a quiet apology but stop short when you notice how ethereal the stranger looked. Albeit he wore a pair of weird Lennon shades at this time of night, he reminded you very much of an angel with his snow white hair.

You don’t even notice how your left eye is returning back to it’s normal color, the stranger does though and it surely was odd to see his eyes on a stranger.

“Well,” the stranger has a shit-eating grin decorating his handsome features, he definitely looked like trouble for sure, “This is unexpected.”

He lowers his shades and your eyes immediately widen as you suddenly cup the left side of your face, you’d recognize those unique eyes anywhere, after all, you had those on your left eye since you were born, “Y-You.” you muttered, the shock momentarily eating you up.

“Yeah, me.” He grins, loving the sudden attention, “Wow, I was expecting something like fireworks or flowers to appear.” He suddenly teased, bending down to your level.

Now that you notice it, he was very, very tall.

“I…” You blink, trying to gain your composure, “Wow…”

“Did I pass your expectations?” it’s been a few minutes since you started talking and all he has been doing is teasing you. 

“You do look like an angel.” You complimented and his eyes widened at the rather out-of-place compliment, “Your eyes are very pretty, thanks for letting me borrow them for twenty-two years.”

Gojo Satoru thought he had the upper-hand, after all, you looked quite meek but when you said those compliments, he was sure that you were going to be the teasing one in this whole-soulmate thing.

So he tries to one up you.

“I’m Satoru Gojo but you can call me tonight.” He grinned, trying to tease you once again, the corny pick up line sounds suave but your blank expression says otherwise.

“I’m Y/N L/N and  think I should call you in the morning, it is quite late right now and I still have classes at eight am.” You mumbled, looking down at your watch, “How about you just walk me home, then?”

“Okay.” Satoru immediately raises his hands, signaling that he was giving up, “First off, you should be more hyper aware that I may be a serial killer.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you a serial killer?” you repeat, “That would be awfully disappointing if my soulmate was one since I’d immediately give you up on the police. I’m not interested in being in a Bonnie and Clyde type of thing and I think it’s too early for me to die.”

“You’re very upfront about these sorts of things.”

“Well, you’re very teasing for someone who just met their soulmate a few minutes ago.” you shrug, “So, are you going to walk me home or not?”

“Ah, bossy too. I love the attitude already.”

“We’re spending our whole lives together. You might as well get used to it.”

You’d think the idea of soulmates would scare you after the firsthand experience with your parents but curiosity always got the best of you and the white-haired man proved that maybe it would be different this time.

Throughout the few months you’ve spent with him, You’ve noticed that Gojo Satoru and you may be alike in some ways but in most ways, he was different. 

First, he was enigmatic. You’ve known the man for a couple of months now and you’ve been going out on dates but you don’t know much about him except that like you, he’s a teacher at a good school and he tends to be conceited when he talks about his personal skills as a teacher.

“...What are you doing?” Satoru asked, peeking from behind your shoulder as you type in the grades of your student for your class.

“I’m grading my students.” You muttered, it was after dinner at your place and he was lazing around your place, the sound of faint jazz music could be heard throughout your small space and the wafting smell of freshly baked brownies filled the room, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something since you're a teacher?”

Satoru quirks a brow as if you had said something odd then it seemed like realization had dawn upon him at that moment.

“Ah, I’m not doing much since my students are on break.”

“Didn’t you say that last time?”

Silence filled the room and Satoru breaks it off with his very famous ‘heh’ that made you inwardly roll your eyes and chunk the pillow that you’ve been hugging towards his direction, “Stop slacking off, you’re a teacher.” You scold him mildly, followed by a small cough.

“Ah, Y/N-chan. You’re so mean to me,” He frowned, handing you the mug filled with water, “...No fair.”

“You're a teacher and you’re slacking off.” You deadpanned, ignoring his sly ways of trying to get you in his arms, “How is that even fair?”

“My students can handle themselves so well that I don’t need to babysit them.” He hmphed,  arms crossed and head held up high in a rather arrogant manner. You could only only scoff back a reply at his rather haughty attitude but you’ve gotten used to it to the point where you just roll your eyes.

“You’re a very bad teacher, Satoru.” 

“Hey, I am considered one of the best and it’s an honor-”

You clicked your tongue and just pinched his cheek in reply to get him to stop drawling on about his achievements. You wondered if you dated a man child or something.

Second, despite his teasing nature and good looks, he’s a rather shy bean and has some insecurities about it too, maybe it was because there were moments where you couldn’t really understand your soulmate and his puzzling life. He didn’t tell and you didn’t want to pry because you technically both had your whole life to get around that subject.

Luckily, you seem to have found a remedy for moments like that.

“Satoru…” You called out to your soulmate who was staring at the nutrition content of the wafers on his hand, “Satoru!” 

“Oh, sorry. What were you talking about?” he finally snapped out of his daze and turned to you who was standing there, hand on your hip. The crispy wafers on his hand are long forgotten. 

Your soulmate is good looking, alright. If anyone were to pass by him they wouldn’t see the minor zilch of worry in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” You ask, walking closer to him, completely serious.

“...You aren’t going to leave me, right?” 

You raise a brow at the sudden question, wasn’t he too young to have some mid-life crisis? Was this because of the soulmate movie you watched late last night about the soulmate leaving their other half to rebel against the system and because of his partner’s family?

“Why would I leave you?”

He blinks once, then twice, the only sound that could be heard was the familiar music playing throughout the grocery store, it was as if no one was there during the mid-day. Satoru proceeds to look away, “I don’t know. What if you realize that you don’t like me as your soulmate and you followed what the dude did in the movie?” he started to mumble, mouth pressed on a straight line.

“Ah, the whole rich in-laws.” you blinked, “Don’t tell me you’re a son of some huge clan in japan that’s loaded and I’m going to be a disgrace to your family name or something?”

It came out as a joke at first, it really did and you were going to laugh but when you notice the straight face he has on, you realize it was anything but a joke.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, Oh.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one asking that question then?”

“What?” He almost half-yelled, eyes wide behind his usual shades that he seemed to wear a lot, “That doesn’t make sense!”

“Neither does your question, Satoru.” You frowned, massaging your temples, “I should be the one asking you that, are you going to leave me?”

“Of course not.” He sputters out.

“Then there goes my answer too.” You replied, huffing out as you grab the sweet wafers on his hand to put into the cart, “You’re very weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“No, you are.”

“You seriously asked me if I’d leave you because of your rich family in the middle of the day.” You deadpanned, inching closer to him to the point where your lips are brushing against his.

“This is unfair.” He huffed, suddenly turning red, “You’re attacking me in broad daylight.”

“Oh dear.” Your beguiling eyes, enjoying his rather embarrassed state, “This isn’t attacking, Satoru.”

Then you closed the distance between you two, his eyes seemed to widen behind his shades at your forward approach, clearly you guys never did PDA. You took this as an opportunity to lick his lower lip so you could slip your tongue in and as he starts getting into it and placing his hand to cup your ass, you pull away with a big smile on your lips, “That’s attacking.” you grinned.

Satoru seemed to have regained his senses quickly after that rather heated public make-out session, he placed his hand on top of his mouth and feigned embarrassment, “My, My, I didn’t think you’d enjoy those types of things in public.” he was back to his normal teasing self.

Well, that seemed to have worked very well.

“Mhm,” 

Yet unknown to you those thoughts still lingered in his head, it wasn’t just his family that he was worried about, it was also regarding his job as a jujutsu sorcerer       something he has yet to mention, he’s not even sure if you’d believe him       it’s a normal occurrence for people like him to die in this occupation and he’s scared that one day, you’ll see your left eye turning back to his eye color with no valid explanation.

Not only that but the amount of people who’d go after you to get to him, he clenched on the shopping cart tightly

“I’m tired.” You cut his thoughts short and Satoru turns to you, unlike him, you weren’t physically active so you tire easily, even joking around that you were a granny in a child’s body, “Can we sit down after this and get some gyudon?”

“Sure Y/N.” he grins, giving you a one-arm hug and kissing your temple.

Third, he’s terrible with kids, period, no questions asked. 

Your eyes narrowed to slits as he brought in one of his students named Megumi, the boy is quiet and compared to your giant and teasing soulmate, he’s serious. In fact he was more serious than the tiny pinky of the white-haired man.

“...Are you kidnapping a third grader?”

“He’s one of my students.”

“You don’t even know the first thing of looking after kids.” You pointed out, “And didn’t you mention that you teach high school students?”

“Well,” he drawled on, “It’s kind of a long story but he’s technically a genius.”

You let out a stifling sigh, “You’re impossible.” you mutter, bending down to the small boy’s level, “Would you like something to eat in compensation for him annoying you?”

The boy nods mutely.

“I wasn’t annoying him!” He corrects.

“He looks very annoyed standing next to you.”

“That’s literally what he looks like!”

You roll your eyes in reply and turn to the young boy, handing him a pastry that you had brought earlier. You  watched Megumi eat his pastry in front of the television that played some child-friendly show as you let out a soft cough and pour yourself some water

“Are you alright?” Satoru asks, resting his head on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” You replied, “Why’d you ask?”

“You’re looking quite pale these days.”

“Maybe it’s the allergy season, already.”  you nonchalantly replied, taking another gulp of water, “You’re terrible with kids, by the way.”

“That’s why I’m a high school teacher, Y/N.”

This connects you to your fourth observation, he’s nonchalant and easy going but he harbors a rather deep worry for you to the point where you wonder if he was really your soulmate or your mother incarnate. Three years into the whole soulmate thing with him, you still couldn’t help but think that he’s doting nature was quite adorable.

You feel like you’re coming down with a cold these days, your head has been throbbing and your cough is worsening. Satoru’s eyes are filled with nothing but worry as he handed you some medication. Your soulmate was now a mother hen and if it were different circumstances, you’d laugh it off.

“We should go to the doctor.” He nagged you once again.

“I’m literally going to sleep it off.” You hoarsely replied, “I’ll be fine, Satoru.”

“You literally sound like you smoked a pack with your voice, are you sure?”

“I am.” You glared, “Don’t sleep-”

Before you could even finish what you were saying, he flops right next to you in the bed, “-I literally told you to not sleep next to me.” you scolded him.

“A mere cold won’t phase me.”

“I swear to god, Gojo Satoru. I’ll kick you out.” He ignores your ministrations and snuggles his head on your neck, his warm breath tickling it, “You’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

“Sadly.”

“Hey.”

“I’m kidding.” you let out a quiet chuckle, looking down at your soulmate and running your hands through his white hair, “I love you very much, you idiot.”

“Hard same.”

“Never mind, I take it back.” you giggle.

And after a rather short playful banter between you two, you find yourself sleeping and snuggling on his long limbs. You think all is well, you really do. That was until you wake up later at three am in the morning with a loud coughing fit. Satoru immediately sits upright and opens your nightlight but what he sees next, scares him more than the curses he has ever encountered.

Your sheets are now stained in blood from the coughing fit that had just happened and you're completely taken aback too, completely breathless.

“Y-Y/N…” He gulps down, quickly taking the sheets away from you, “Let’s go to the hospital now, please?”

“...L/N-san, have you been getting coughing fits before this?” the doctor asks, looking up from your chart. Satoru watches you shake your head as you clench the paws of his jacket, the doctor takes off his glasses, “How about coughs that don’t seem to go away? Getting tired too easily?”

Satoru doesn’t like where this was going, he doesn’t like where this was going at all.

“Um, just some dry coughs and I’ve always been an inactive person.” You quietly replied, contrasting to your usual bright and teasing demeanor, you looked too tired this morning and Satoru just hopes it’s because he dragged you out of bed at four am to get yourself checked asap.

“Y/N-san, has any of your family members been diagnosed with lung cancer?”

The whole room is silent and you could almost hear a pin drop, Satoru feels his knuckles suddenly turn white, “I recalled my okaasan died because of that.” You replied silently and the doctor nods feverishly.

“...Y/N-san...It pains me to say this but the reason you’ve been experiencing this is because of the tumors located in your lungs.” Satoru feels his heart drop when he hears those words, “We have to do further tests to confirm-”

“Do it.” Satoru cuts the old doctor off, his hands are visibly shaking already, he hopes that this was just a misdiagnosis, that this doctor was just a bad one or better yet whatever excuse his mind could make up at that moment, “Do all the tests needed for Y/N, please.”

Fifth, he’s very supportive towards you and your impulsive decisions. If he could join you in it, he would but you usually decide against it.

It’s another quiet night for you as you sit across from your soulmate at the dinner table. You’ve grown awfully thin and your hair was starting to fall off due to the chemoradiation, this day marked the third month since you found out that you have lung cancer just like your mother. Surgery was apparently too risky so the safest option right now was this treatment. 

You don’t deny the anxiety eating you up every day, specifically the fear of death, you’re even more worried for Satoru since not only had he been paying for your treatment but he had opt to take care of you, saying that his job would be fine without him since you were going to get better soon anyways.

“Would you still love me if I shaved my hair?” You asked, your voice still quite hoarse.

“You kidding me? I’d still love you even if you turned into a roach.”

You immediately crinkle your nose in disgust, “That’s disgusting.”

“Honest reply.”

Truthfully, the man had been your rock these past three months. You knew how hard it was for him to be happy around you, how he had put on a brave front and remained positive saying that this was just going to be a rough couple of months and you’d be back in no time despite the bleak outlook.

It kept you sane amongst the tragedy.

“I wanna shave my hair.”

“Like right now?”

You nod, “Can we use your electric razor?”

“You want me.” he points to himself, “To cut your hair?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it.” You grinned.

And that’s how you ended up in your bathroom after dinner, Satoru’s shades on the side and his concentration directly on your scalp. You had literally told him that he just needed to do it the same way as he shaved his beard but he was still scared. Apparently, he had never shaved anyone’s hair before.

“...Okay, Y/N. Here goes…” He proclaimed, switching the razor on. As bits and pieces of your hair fall to the ground, you feel your cheeks getting wet and your shoulders tense, Satoru is quick to notice the switch of emotion and immediately turns the razor off before bending down in front of you, “Woah, woah… Y/N….”

“I-I…” Your lips are quivering as the tears fall faster when you see his pretty eyes staring back at yours, you try to let out a laugh but instead it comes out as a choke sob, “Sorry, this is stupid. I’m literally crying over fucking hair.”

“No, of course not…” He replies, enveloping you in a hug, “Of course not.”

Satoru feels you start to shake in his arms and he knows he should keep his emotions in check, he’s a sorcerer for crying out loud but seeing you break down for the first time in three months had him shaking too, you didn’t deserve all this, fuck, you didn’t deserve any of this at all!

“Would you like me to shave my hair so you’d feel a bit better?” he asks. After recovering from your breakdown, you had asked him to continue shaving your hair because you might as well be done with it.

“Please don’t.” You reply, wiping your tears away, “We’d look like eggs.”

“Cute eggs, you mean.” He corrects, teasing you and trying to cheer you up, this was all he could do and he hates it. 

He really hates it.

What good was the title of being the strongest when he couldn’t save you from all of this?

Lastly, if you hadn’t highlighted it enough. He has pretty eyes, contrasting to your dull and boring ones, you always loved how different his eyes are. Sometimes you wondered why he dared to hide them behind his crappy and overused Lennon shades.

“Can I see them?” 

Your room is dimly lit as Satoru sleeps next to you on the hospital bed, you were growing weaker and frailer by the day and you could see the toll it took on your soulmate. You were heavily reminded of your father who was sitting right next to your mother on her deathbed.

“See what?” He yawned.

“Your eyes.”

“You’re awfully in love with them, huh?” 

“I’ve always been in love with them from the moment I saw it in the mirror.”

Silence envelopes the room with your statement and as requested, he takes the shades off and now you’re greeted by the most beautiful blue eyes that you love to look at in the reflection since you were a child, “Pretty.” You muttered, raising your frail hands slowly to cup his face, “Pretty eyes.”

Satoru takes in a deep breath as he places his hand on top of yours, the silence is heavy. You both know what’s about to come in the next few days, you’re lucky if you even last a night. Yet he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shuts the topic off quickly when you try to even raise it.

“Yeah.” he mumbles, staring at you, “Pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “I doubt it, I’m anything but pretty now.” your voice hoarse, making him lightly squeeze your hands, “Will you be bringing Megumi tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the brat said he saved enough money to get you your favorite pastry.”

“That’s good.” you blinked, “I’m tired.”

Satoru feels his shoulder tense at your words, they were so plain yet at the same time so heavy, “Should I call the doctor?” he asks. You shake your head and just snuggle on his chest.

“No,” You mumbled, inhaling his scent and basking on his presence, “I want your warmth next to me.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You know, you’ve always had prettier eyes.”

Yet you don’t reply and he feels your grip on his sweater lessen, he doesn’t even need to see his reflection to know that his left eye has returned back to your (e/c) ones.

taglist [if crossed out, it means you aren’t available for tags!]

@airybnb​ ;  @hcn421​ ;  @shinhiromi​

[fanficimagery]

Lost and then Found pt. II

Imagine being taken by HYDRA. After years with them, they set you loose on someone you haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for HYDRA, you weren't as susceptible to their mind experiments like they thought. Now away from their influence, your only worry is making sure you're prepared for your baby to enter the world.

Words: 11.3K Author’s Note: I won't say I don't like this because there are some parts in here that I absolutely adore. However, it is rushed and it feels forced to me, but I needed to get this out so here it is. Also, I've never experienced childbirth so please ignore my mediocre take on it. Haha.

Tags: @aya-fay​ @70s-chic​ @sipsteacasually​ @kaitlyn2907​ @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination​ @b1sexualtonystark​ @living-that-best-life​ @alexnicolaidisss​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @eliwinchester99​ @mimilh @rosesloml​  @blackxwidowsxwife  @meredeph @lexy9716​ @wxnderingthoughts​

The Avengers have grown accustomed to having a werewolf living among them and sitting in on mission briefings, but they put their foot down when you attempt to join them for missions. You want to desperately prove yourself to the group of assembled heroes, but you also very much want to protect the life growing inside your womb. So agreeing to stay home while pregnant, they eventually task you with setting up your own apartment the first time they all had to leave you behind.

Of course you weren't totally alone and Pepper had flown in to help you set up, her excitement for your pregnancy spurring on your own excitement even more.

You get settled quite easily and it shows how much trust you have in them when the full moons don't affect you like they normally would. Now others could come and go during the full moon, and you barely batted an eye at them. Unless it was Tony. Tony needed to be watched at all times after he attempted to rile you up purposely on the night of a full moon to see exactly how much control you had.

The slight swell to your abdomen eventually sets in and you couldn't be more proud of the roundness that was obvious when you wore a tight shirt. Wanda, too, was absolutely smitten with the small bump and the whole team was relieved to see her genuinely happy after everything she'd recently gone through. But Wanda wasn't the only one who doted on you- oh no. For some reason, the sight of your bump made the two super soldiers absolutely melt when your shirt was fitted and the bump was on display. Everyone knew it was inevitable for Steve to turn to mush, but it was Bucky who surprised everyone.

Bucky always made sure to sit close to you, snacks on hand and ready to make a run to the store when your cravings got the best of you. You'd even caught him reading a pregnancy book, but he looked so embarrassed when you caught him that you couldn't bring yourself to mention it to anyone else. And for that he was grateful- always letting you crawl into his lap when you had the urge to scent mark everyone.

Your cuddle sessions became more frequent, which made Wanda pout and Sam and Steve rather smug for some unknown reason to you.

It's cooler than normal around the living quarters given the rising summer temperatures and, though you normally run hot, your own body temperature has been up and down since you've become pregnant. So on this particular day you find yourself cuddled up to Steve, your left arm thrown over his waist and left leg draped over his legs. Your bump is resting near his hip and he smiles down at you every time you grumble about needing to pee.

"This baby is going to be the death of me," you mumble. "All I wanna do is cuddle, but no. I have to pee. Again!"

Leaving the comfort of the new couch that had been ordered for your specific cuddling tendencies- it could honestly pass for a bed with how spacious it is- you get up and take care of business in the bathroom. And then when you get back to the living room, you find that Bucky's taking up the other side of the sofa Steve is on.

"Yessss." You nearly skip back towards the sofa, crawling in between both men. "Supersoldier sandwich."

Steve snorts and then yelps when you manhandle him into scooting down until he's laying down again, then wrapping yourself around him like you had previously been. All the while Bucky is laughing at his friend's misfortune, but then you reach behind you and drag Bucky closer until you whine at him to spoon you. You smell rather than see his embarrassment, especially when Steve teases him to just spoon you already, and then you practically purr when you're enveloped in their warmth.

As Bucky settles behind you, you end up grabbing his metal arm and dragging it over your waist. He tenses, but you run your fingers up and down the back of his hand until he gets that you're okay with him- metal arm and all.

Stuck between two solid bodies, enveloped in their warmth and scent, is enough to send you off into a content light doze.

And then you're jolted back into consciousness when you feel Bucky freeze behind you. "What was that?"

"What was what?" You sleepily mumble.

"Your stomach. Are you- was that your stomach grumbling?"

This time it's your turn to freeze as you place your hand over his that's still crawling your bump. "You actually felt that?"

"Yeah." He chuckles.

"Holy shit," you muse. "It's way too early for anyone other than me to feel the baby. How the hell-"

"Wait, what?" Steve says, a whine lacing his tone. "Bucky got to feel the baby?"

You laugh as you move to turn so you're laying on your back, and both Steve and Bucky try to maneuver their hands around your small bump in order to feel the fluttering sensation. "This is insane. I can't believe you guys can feel it."

"I don't feel anything." Steve frowns.

"Don't pout, punk." Bucky smirks. "I can only feel it because of the arm."

Grinning, you reach up and lightly pat Steve's cheek. "Don't worry, Rogers. When the kicks start coming in, I'll go find you first."

The two men are distracted when the elevator dings open and Wanda steps off, the scent of food wafting from the bags she's carrying. Your nostrils flare and your mouth waters, and you start to pull free from Steve and Bucky.

Wanda smirks. "Hungry?"

"Always." Now free of the men, you hurry towards the kitchen where Wanda is laughing and pulling out containers. "Is that," you inhale deeply, eyes closing in bliss, "medium-rare steak, baked potato with the works, and.. and fries?"

"I even got that sauce from Arby's you like so you can dip your fries in it."

"Oh my god, you're my favorite."

"Hey!" Steve and Bucky shout from the living room. Wanda preens.

A couple more months pass and you're in awe of what your body is doing.

You're absolutely in love with your growing bump which now looks like there's a volleyball under your shirt, but for some reason you're unreasonably uncomfortable. You've been meaning to go shopping for maternity clothes, however, everything you've found online is not to your taste. You just want a simple loose shirt, but all maternity clothes seem to either have a floral theme to it or ruffles that you're not a fan of.

So stuck in one of your usual t-shirts that feels like it's stretched too tight and showing off the bottom portion of your bump, you walk around your apartment grumbling and shifting uneasily and trying to find a way to make yourself feel comfortable.

You're pacing around the room, hands rubbing along your swollen abdomen when there's a knock on your door. Agitated, a growl slips free. You stomp towards your door, another growl threatening to slip free, when you're stopped short at the sight of Bucky.

His eyebrow quirks at you and you sigh, trying to shake off your agitation. "Why are your eyes glowing, sweetheart?"

"I'm annoyed. I can't help it."

You swing the door open wider, but Bucky remains rooted to his spot. "Why are you annoyed?"

And just like that, the tears well up and start dropping one after the other. "I am so uncomfortable!" You cry. Bucky's eyes widen before he steps forward, arms loosely wrapping around you. "I just- I want to be comfortable. None of my shirts are fitting me and I- I just- I need-"

"Okay. Okay, shh." Bucky gently rocks you side to side. "Come on. Come with me."

Miserable, you agree and follow after Bucky to his own apartment that's just a few doors down the hallway. You're not sure what's going on when he tells you to wait in his living room and then disappears into what you can only guess is his room, and your brow furrows when he returns with a shirt in hand.

Sheepish, Bucky rubs the back of his neck with one hand while holding the shirt out with the other. "Here. You can use one of mine until you find something more comfortable."

You glance between him and the shirt, reaching for it as a smile starts to take form. And when you have the shirt in your hands, you readily strip out of your own shirt and huff a laugh when Bucky blushes and averts his gaze. Pulling on his shirt then, you groan with satisfaction as the material hugs you just right. "Oh heck yes." And then picking up the collar of the shirt, you can't help but deeply inhale the material and groan yet again. "This is exactly what I needed."

Bucky slowly smirks. "Good. Now let's go grab something to eat." He can't help but laugh as you latch yourself onto his arm, mumbling about him leading the way as your eyes close in pure bliss.

Your senses tell you Bucky's just leading you towards the communal kitchen, your nose twitching at the smell of food coming from it's direction. There are a few voices too and it's easy to pick out Wanda, Steve, and Sam.

Upon opening your eyes, you're met with amused and/or surprised expressions. "What?"

"Do my eyes deceive me or am I sensing a walk of shame?" Sam slowly smirks.

You and Bucky both frown as Steve and Wanda laugh at their friend's assumption. "Huh?"

"You're in Barnes' shirt," he says. "You cannot stand there and tell me you two ain't foolin' around."

It takes you a second to realize what he's saying, your mind connecting the dots when you feel Bucky tense next to your side. The slight embarrassment wafting off of him nearly makes you whine, but you swallow down the urge. Instead, you roll your eyes and say, "First off, if I was getting dicked down by this beefcake, there would be no walk of shame. I would happily tell you about length, girth, and every goddamn ridge on this man's dick." Wanda cackles as Sam's eyes bulge in shock, Steve then choking on his orange juice. "And secondly, I'm fat, Wilson!" You let go of Bucky, turning to the side and grabbing the sides of Bucky's shirt to pull tight over your swollen tummy. "None of my shirts fit comfortably anymore and Bucky was just helping a girl out." His mouth drops slightly as if he hadn't thought of that and you shake your head at him. Letting go of the shirt, you walk forward to sit at the kitchen island. "Do you seriously think anyone wants to get it on with a pregnant chick? Use your head, Samuel."

As you settle down, Bucky takes a seat next to you and you automatically lean into his side with your head on his shoulder. Wanda and Steve both smile, but neither of them say a word. Sam, however, just can't let this go. "So let me get this straight- you two are not boning in secret?"

"No," you say, fighting off a smile. "We're just friends. Which means you just lost the bet too because my bump is fully set in and there has been no sex." Sam, Wanda, and Steve slowly lose their amused expressions and this time it's your and Bucky's turn to be smug. "What? Didn't think we knew about that, did 'ya?"

"Y/N, I am so sorry," Wanda says, but you wave her off. "I didn't think-"

"It's fine, Wanda. We thought it was funny."

Bucky remains quiet, but his little grin lets Wanda know he was fine with the supposedly secret bet as well. Her shoulders seem to sag in relief and you readily accept the plate of bacon Sam nudges in your direction.

"So," Wanda muses, "you need to go shopping? I'm free today and tomorrow."

You grimace. "I guess so. As much as I want to, I can't steal the guys' shirts for the next few months."

"Good. We'll head out after you get something to eat."

Leaving the medical facility, you aimlessly walk back towards the family compound with several black and white photos in hand. You had known there was a baby growing inside of you, but it's just now truly sunk in after seeing your baby's profile instead of a blob with still-forming limbs. A slip of paper with your baby's gender is tucked into your back pocket, Doctor Cho having given it to you in case you wanted to know.

You're not exactly looking for the quiet of your apartment, so you remain in the communal living spaces in hopes of someone distracting you. Only when you get there, all is quiet.

Turning on the large screen flat TV, you put it on a random cooking show after crawling onto your sofa and getting comfortable. You've only managed to watch one entire episode, your interest captivated by the meals the chefs are putting together with only a few certain items from their basket, when the elevator dings.

You don't bother looking back, Bucky's scent wafting over to you before he even steps into your peripheral. "Hey doll, want some company?"

"Please," you groan.

Bucky toes off his boots and sits on the edge of the sofa, scooting back towards the middle until he's shoulder to shoulder with you. You sigh and lean against him, laying your head on his shoulder while your arms remain on your lap. "What's wrong?" Bucky immediately says.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're not cuddling me."

The tone of Bucky's voice makes you freeze, amusement blossoming. Slowly you lift your head and attempt to meet his gaze. "Are you- are you pouting because I'm not cuddling you?"

"No."

You huff a laugh, letting your forehead fall on his shoulder once more. After a moment, you lift his arm and settle underneath it as you cuddle him. Bucky chuckles and squeezes you just a little tighter against him. "Is this better?"

"A little. Now tell me what's bothering you."

You quietly groan, shifting under his arm until you reach to your other side and pick up one of the sonograms. "I had an appointment today," you say while handing him the picture. "It's just- I guess it's just sinking in that there's an actual living being growing inside of me."

"You mean all the kicking these past two months didn't give it away?" Bucky huffs in amusement. "Wow. Would you look at that?" He says. "The little nugget is really growing. Huh?" Your hormones get the best of you and you end up sniffling, tears filling your eyes. Bucky freezes. "Doll? Are you- are you crying?"

"How the hell am I going to do this, Buck? I'm a foul-mouthed werewolf who just recently escaped the clutches of HYDRA. What business do I have raising a baby?"

"Hey. Hey, look at me." Bucky gently nudges you so you'd glance up at him. With his flesh arm still tucked around you, his metal hand gently holds your sonogram between two fingers as he makes you look at it. "You're going to do just fine. You wanna know how I know that?" You sniffle and wipe the tears from beneath your eyes. "Because you have all of us- you have me- in your corner. This little nugget of yours will never want for anything as long as we're around."

His words only make the tears fall even more and you hide your face in his shoulder once more. He holds you tighter, shushing you and murmuring words about how you're going to be a good mother. If you could overlook everything HYDRA did to you in order for you to conceive this child and then go on to keep the child, then there was no doubt in his mind you were going to be a great mom.

As you sit there against Bucky and work on getting yourself under control, you can't help but notice that he turns the sonogram back towards himself to stare at it. You shift your head just right so you can see his face and it warms your heart to see him smiling at the profile of your baby.

The elevator dings again, this time dropping off Wanda. When she walks around the sofa and takes in your puffy, red-rimmed eyes, she freezes. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"She had a bout of insecurity." Bucky tattles on you. "It's fine now."

Wanda blinks at Bucky in surprise before looking back at you and you offer her a small smile. "New sonogram pictures. It's.. just sinking in that this is really happening."

Wanda glances at the small piles of pictures next to you, squeals, and then hurriedly picks one up. You chuckle as she coos. "Has Doctor Cho mentioned whether it's a girl or boy yet?"

You nod. "I, uh, I have the slip of paper that tells me. I haven't looked at it yet."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Wanda immediately takes a seat and you slightly lean to the side in order to pull the folded piece of paper out of your pocket. You hold it out to her and her eyes subtly widen. "You don't want to do it?"

"I do, but.." You trail off, shrugging. "It doesn't really matter to me. As long as I have a healthy baby I'm fine. You seem more excited for this than me anyway."

She slowly smiles, only taking the slip of paper when Bucky shrugs. He seems confused for a split second that Wanda would even seek his opinion, but then his expression is neutral once more and that's all the approval Wanda needs. She takes the slip of paper, opening it to peek at the gender. She gives nothing away. "Last chance. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lay it on us, Maximoff."

Wanda glances at the piece of paper once more before looking straight at you, a smile blossoming from ear to ear. "It's a girl."

Your breath hitches. "Yeah?" Your voice then cracks and tears immediately well in your eyes again.

Bucky squeezes you tighter to his side, chuckling, and Wanda's own eyes fill with tears as she nods. "You're having a little girl." A sob breaks free, even as you laugh, and the tears flow faster. Wanda crawls towards you and pulls you into a hug, crying softly as she rejoices with you. "If Pietro were here, he'd spoil that little girl rotten."

"Right?" You wetly laugh, pulling back and settling against Bucky once more. "I can already hear him. A little prinţesǎ," you coo, putting on an accent that was nowhere near what Wanda or Pietro sounded like. Both Wanda and Bucky laugh at your horrible accent, and your smile slowly falls as you fondly remember Wanda's twin. "I really wish he was here to meet her."

Her smile drops too, nodding in understanding. "Me too."

Wanda moves to replace the sonogram picture, but you shake her head and push her hand back. "No. That's yours."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You too, Bucky." You then glance at him, gesturing to the sonogram he still held. "I got copies for Steve, Natasha, and Sam as well. Even Doctor Cho happily kept one," you say.

"Thanks, doll." A kiss gets pressed to the side of your head and you can feel a rumble of content threatening to come out, but when you catch Wanda's gaze- her eyebrows wiggling causes you to frown and stomp down on the urge. "This is going up on my fridge."

Wanda smirks at you as you flush. "Yeah, well you're welcome."

Your friend can't stop smirking, but she's kind enough to not call you out on it in front of Bucky. "So baby shower?"

Now you groan. "Do we have to?"

And without missing a beat, Bucky and Wanda say, "Yes."

When word got around that Wanda was to plan your baby shower, you were surprised at how excited it seemed to make everyone. Apparently no one was immune to the impending arrival of your daughter, Clint having flown in to toss around some ideas and secure an invite for he and his family. Then when Tony and Pepper got involved, you had to make them promise that the shower was to not be over the top. But according to Tony, only the best was allowed for the next baby Avenger.

No one would tell you a thing about the baby shower, not even Bucky who you found yourself hanging out with more and more as the weeks went by. The surprise of finding you curled up in his lap was long gone and now when anyone was looking for either of you, it seemed they went to the other for your whereabouts. So a couple days before the shower, you thought you had won Bucky over and that he was moments away from telling you what you wanted to know about said shower, but Sam and Steve had given him one look and then quickly marched him out of the kitchen to keep him from spilling the beans. Afterwards, he stayed pretty tight-lipped, up until the day of said baby shower when Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper had you contained in your apartment while the boys took care of everything else in the communal living space.

As Natasha had you sit in front of your bathroom mirror, she did your hair and makeup for the party. So as you sat through her torture, you couldn't help but take a selfie with your fangs on display as you snarled at her smirking reflection in the mirror. Bucky had laughed at your picture and the only clue he gave to you about your baby shower was a picture of a sunflower.

Pepper and Natasha had several dresses for you to try on for the shower, but the outfit that won you over had been chosen by Wanda. It was an off-the-shoulder white short playsuit with lace detailing around your clavicle and thighs. You vetoed every heeled shoe until a pair of sandals were dropped in front of you and you let Wanda help you into them.

Once you were fully dressed, Natasha came to stand before you with her hands behind her back. When you narrowed your eyes at her, she smirked and produced a floral crown from behind her back. The flowers were fake, but the small versions of sunflowers and daisies were still pretty. So you bent your knees a little and let Natasha settle the crown atop your wavy hair, fixing your hair once more around your shoulders.

Then arm in arm with Wanda, you let your friends lead you out of your apartment and into the elevator. Your excitement was very obvious and the women couldn't help but chuckle as the elevator doors opened. Your excitement turned into awe at the sight of all the pink and white balloons, and the pink and purple floral garlands hanging from the corners of the room and around each table. There was a table for gifts and a table for finger foods, and of course there was no missing the three tiered pink and white cake. Everything was chic and girly and you absolutely loved it.

Tony, Bruce, and Helen Cho are huddled together, no doubt deep in a conversation about science. Clint and his wife Laura are there, along with their three kids milling about with another young girl who you remember is Tony and Pepper's daughter. And then there is Steve, Sam, and Bucky who each have a drink in hand and are chuckling quietly amongst each other.

"You know from all the stories I've heard, baby showers were meant for women only." At the sound of your voice, conversations taper off and smiles are directed towards you.

"Are you kidding?" Tony huffs. "I know all about the games played at these shindigs. I wanted in on the games and prizes."

"Of course you did." You then direct a smile at everyone gathered. "Thank you all for coming. This pregnancy wasn't exactly.. you know," you trail off, eyes lingering on the gathered kids who are surprisingly paying attention to your stomach, you say, "but I've grown to love this tiny human so much already before I've even met her and I'm just happy she's going to have such a great little community surrounding her."

"Aw look. You made Wanda cry."

You immediately glance to your right where Wanda's laughing, wiping beneath her eyes. "Shut up, Barton." And then, "So what are we doing first? I've never actually been to one of these."

"Games!" Laura and Pepper muse together.

Everyone chuckles at their enthusiasm and you let Wanda lead you to a seat. Pepper sits with Tony and Natasha finds herself being drawn to Clint and Laura, but she doesn't take a seat quite yet. You, however, are led to a sofa chair that Wanda takes a seat on one side of and Bucky the other.

"So the first game is a word unscramble," Natasha says. She walks over to a table and picks up numerous clipboards, along with a cup of pens. "There's a three-minute time limit and the one who unscrambles the most words wins."

Tony claps his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "This is so my game."

Natasha passes out the clipboards and pens, and you're happy to realize that this is a game you can play with them. Lila is the only child interested in playing, so Cooper keeps Nathaniel and Morgan busy with a gaming console just on the other side of the room.

Once everyone has a clipboard and a pen in hand, Natasha takes a seat with her own set. "Everyone ready?" At their agreement, she says, "FRIDAY, please set a countdown of three minutes."

"Timer is set, agent Romanoff." A timer is suddenly displayed on the wall across from them.

"Start it now."

The moment the first second ticks away, everyone rushes to pay attention to their piece of paper on the clipboard. You hurriedly scan the words, unscrambling the most obvious words- bottle, crib, bib, booties, blanket, nightlight, and car seat. The others give you trouble and as your eyes dart to the timer, your anxiousness kicks in to unscramble a few more.

Tony is grumbling about impossible words as Laura and Pepper laugh at his misfortune. Wanda is humming, happily it seems, whereas Bruce has just plain given up. Stroller and pacifier give you trouble, and your grumbling starts then. But when you get umbilical cord and morning sickness, it causes you to unknowingly dance in your seat.

Hearing a chuckle next to you, you glance at Bucky and see him peering at your clipboard. You gasp. "You dirty little cheater!"

Steve and Wanda both snort, and you angle yourself away so Bucky can't steal any more of your answers.

You think you've got a good lead, but just as the timer hits thirty seconds Laura calls out, "Done!"

"WHAT?!" Tony shouts.

As the unofficial person in charge of the games, Natasha takes Laura's clipboard to double check her answers. Sure enough, they're all correct. Steve, Sam, and even Clint boo Laura as Natasha grabs a small wicker basket that contains several envelopes inside.

Taking an envelope, Laura opens it and her eyes nearly bulge out of her sockets. "Wow. Every baby shower I've been to had gifts consisting of candles or Bath and Body gift baskets or even kitchenware. This- this is a lot."

"What'd you get, babe?" Clint asks.

"A check for twenty five hundred dollars."

"What?!" Sam yelps.

"Is that a normal prize for a game?" You wonder.

"No. No it's not," Sam says. "Come on. Bring on the next game. I need to know what those other prizes are."

You laugh as everyone suddenly becomes a bit more invested in winning one of the games. But as your laugh tapers off, you glance at Pepper and Tony. Pepper merely smiles when she sees your slight concern. "Don't worry about it. You didn't want an extravagant party, so Tony got a few prizes that were just a little bit more expensive than your average baby shower prize. Trust me, these were the least expensive prizes I could talk him down to."

"Well as long as you're sure.."

You shift uneasily in your seat and then Natasha's walking into the center of the room with a roll of toilet paper in her hand. "Come on, Mother-to-Be. We need to measure your bump and then let these idiots figure out how many squares you are. Whoever guesses the exact number, or closest to, wins."

Natasha helps you stand and you can't help but grumble, "None of you assholes better think I'm huge."

Lila giggles and you send an apologetic look to both Laura and Clint.

Hidden behind the kitchen island, Natasha has you stand still so she can wrap the toilet paper around you. You laugh as you hold the beginning of the first square on your stomach and Natasha reaches around you, unrolling the paper. It's an exact eleven squares.

Taking note of how many squares your bump is, you and Natasha rejoin the group.

"Alright. Give us a twirl. I need to see the bump all the way around," Tony says. Then looking at Wanda, he narrows his eyes. "And no cheating!"

Rolling your eyes with a small huff, you give a slow twirl. Natasha hands Steve the roll of toilet paper and he eyes your stomach before unrolling several squares of it. Bucky goes next, followed by Wanda and Lila. When Clint gets a hold of the roll and unfurls it dramatically, you can't help but growl at him. The others laugh and then take their turn, and then everyone is eagerly awaiting to see if they guessed correctly.

"Are you ready?" Natasha muses. Everyone nods. "It was eleven squares."

"Dammit! So close," Sam whines.

Everyone's looking around, but it's a smug Steve that raises his hand. "I guessed eleven."

"Boo!" Apparently, half the room are sore losers.

You laugh and then it's his turn to choose a prize. When he picks an envelope, he opens it up and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "An all paid expense trip to the spa and then a dinner reservation for two at some fancy restaurant."

"You're taking me to that," Sam immediately says.

Everyone laughs and then Pepper mentions taking a food break so you don't rush through the games. There are a lot of sandwich trays, fruit trays, and vegetable trays. And being the considerate pregnant werewolf you are, you let everyone else make themselves a plate before you, Steve, and Bucky make your own.

Eating carefully so as to not spill anything down the front of your outfit, the laughter and chatter around you makes you feel the most cherished you've ever felt. The finger foods itself is not enough to fill you up, but it does sate your hunger for now. However, with Wanda and Bucky still on either side of you even at the table, between the two of them they're constantly adding extra fruit and fruit dip to your plate.

A few more games are played afterward- Tony guesses the closest to the amount of jelly beans in a mason jar and wins a week-long getaway for two to Fiji, Natasha is the fastest with changing a diaper on a fake baby and wins another set of an all paid expense trip to the spa and restaurant for two, Lila wins at baby bingo and a check for twenty five hundred as well (Clint is clearly happy his family is raking in the cash), and Bucky is the fastest to suck all the apple juice out of a baby bottle which earns him a week-long trip for two to the Bahamas.

Everyone is having such a great time that a sudden alarm blaring immediately puts them on edge. But after Tony rapidly swipes through his phone to figure out what's going on, he realizes they're being called to assemble. Gazes dart in your direction, but you smile reassuringly at them.

"Go. The world needs you guys more than I do right now."

"But we didn't even get to see you open the presents," Wanda frowns.

"And that's fine. You already know I'm going to love whatever has been gifted. We'll gush about everything when you get back."

That seems to be all the team needs to hear before jumping into action and you're a bit surprised to see Bucky hang back. He waves Steve off when he notices his friend holding the elevator and you look up at Bucky with a furrowed brow. "You sure you're going to be okay, sweetheart?"

"Positive." You smile at him, stepping close to him and setting your hands at his waist. "And besides, opening these presents will not only distract me but it'll distract the kids as well. Go save the city or wherever you're needed, Sergeant. I'll be waiting in my apartment for when you get back."

Bucky's hands, both metal and flesh, reach up to gently cradle your face. His gaze darts all over your face for any signs of deceit, but finding none he finally grins. "Okay." He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "I'll be back soon." And then in a move that has you freezing and Pepper, Helen, and Laura's eyes widening, Bucky's hands drop to either side of your stomach as he bends at the waist and addresses your bump. "And you be good for your mama. I see the way you're making her flinch." He brushes his nose from side to side against your stomach and then chuckles when there's a kick in retaliation.

Before Bucky can straighten, you quickly paste on a smile but there's nothing you can do for the burning blush on your cheeks. And the damn prick smirks proudly at how flustered he's made you. "Go," you utter. "Go before Steve comes down to drag you to the jet."

Bucky gives you a nod before stepping back and turning around to saunter towards the elevator. You manage to keep it together until the doors close behind him, the elevator whisking him away, before someone says anything.

"Spill. Right now," Pepper says.

You glance at her, shoulders rising and lowering in a shrug. "I have no idea what the hell just happened, but I'm torn between crying at how cute that just was and wanting to desperately jump his bones." Lila giggles and your eyes widen. You point at her in an accusatory manner. "Stop giggling. You're not supposed to know what that means."

The other women snort as Laura urges her daughter to go play with her siblings and Morgan. Reluctantly she goes. Then as soon as she's out of hearing range, the ladies give you your full attention.

You sigh. "Bucky is.. a very attractive man. Too attractive if I must admit. And if I wasn't knocked up by some random guy's baby gravy, then I could definitely see myself turning on the charm and seeing if he's actually interested."

"First of all," Laura says, "never say baby gravy again."

Pepper snorts as Helen's nose wrinkles. "And secondly," Helen then pipes up, "that man adores you, baby and all." You huff in disbelief. "Don't think I didn't see him pacing outside my office at your last appointment. Or see the way he lit up when you gave him one of the sonogram pictures."

Laura smirks. "Clint told me Bucky keeps a copy of a sonogram in his vest."

And that- that's news to you. Yes you're well aware of your attraction to him as well as his attraction for you (being a werewolf really helps out when you can scent someone's emotions), but you wanted him to make the first move in order to be sure you and your baby were what he wanted.

"Whatever you decide to do, just know we all support you," Pepper says. You're still reeling at the fact that he carries your sonogram picture with him that you have nothing to say. "But until that day comes, why don't you start opening your gifts? I'm dying to know what the men thought were acceptable gifts."

Giving a feeble nod, Helen and Laura hurry to get up and start bringing over gift after gift. Then once you make yourself comfortable, Pepper hands you the gift she had gotten herself with squeals and coos following soon after you pull out onesie after onesie. The booties and floral headbands melt everyone's heart as well.

At the beginning of month nine, HYDRA starts to become a thorn in everyone's side. You figure they're looking for you and their precious cargo, but Natasha assured you everyone in the base you were held at had been taken care of and every file wiped from their computers. As far as other HYDRA bases knew, you did not exist. It was just a coincidence they were active again.

As the weeks slowly pass, your due date is any day now. So it's no surprise when you wake up in the middle of the night one evening, uncomfortable as can be, with pain in your back and lower abdomen.

It's four in the morning and you don't want to wake anyone, but Helen said to call her at any time in case something felt off. And this definitely classifies as something off. So after placing a call to your doctor and friend, Helen tells you to keep track of your contractions and head to the medical wing if they get too close together. She's currently in another state, but after a quick word with FRIDAY the A.I is sending for a quinjet to pick her up.

Moving from your bed to the couch in your living room, you work on trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting or laying down doesn't work, so you take to pacing. But you get tired of pacing very quickly and end up pulling out a yoga ball to bounce on.

By six in the morning, the contractions are about twenty minutes apart. The pain has amped up as the time passed that your claws and fangs have ended up elongating, and you've already shredded two of your couch cushions when you were suddenly seized up by a contraction. Eventually it becomes too much for you to endure so you have FRIDAY alert Wanda with a Code Pink. And not even four minutes later, Wanda is barging into your apartment with concern-filled eyes.

"Is this it? Is the baby coming? What's going on?"

You grimace, hands rubbing your stomach as you lightly bounce on your ball. "Uh, I'm in labor. This sucks."

"Well why aren't you in the med wing?" She asks. She comes closer to you, looking you up and down to make sure nothing else is wrong. "And what happened to your couch?" Instead of saying anything, you end up showing her. Another contraction hits and you snarl in pain, claws digging into your thighs and eyes blazing blue. Wanda's eyes widen. "Oh. I see." Then glancing upward, Wanda asks, "FRIDAY, how close are Y/N's contractions and can you please contact Doctor Cho?"

"The contractions are only eleven minutes apart now and Doctor Cho is still twenty-five minutes out. She has, however, advised me to inform Y/N that she should be heading to the med wing now. The nurses have been alerted and are waiting to have Y/N admitted."

A breath of air whooshes from your lungs just as you get yourself under control and you watch as the claw marks on your legs start to close themselves up. "Wanda," you pant, "I'm not going to be able to walk there."

"I got it." Your eyes watch as Wanda walks over to your kitchen, her hands glowing red as the same energy envelops one of your kitchen chairs. Right before your eyes, the wooden chair turns into a wheelchair. She then wheels the chair over to you, putting on the breaks before walking around to help you into the seat. "Now come on." She beams down at you. "Let's go have this baby."

Since the medical building isn't far, you don't bother with your pregnancy bag. The building is equipped with anything and everything you could possibly need and if you wanted your own stuff then you'd just send Wanda to get it. The elevator ride and walk towards the medical building is filled with your heavy breathing and pained grunts, as well as Wanda's encouraging words that are honestly starting to annoy you.

As soon as the nurses lay eyes on you, it's a whirlwind to get you situated as quickly as possibly. Wanda watches from the corner of your room and as soon as you're settled and the baby's heartbeat is resonating around the room, the terror sinks in.

You're about to have a baby. A BABY!? You're about to push out a baby that you're going to have to take care of for the next eighteen years and who will depend on you for the rest of her life. She will most likely be enhanced too and have to be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life as well.

"Hey. You okay?" Wanda asks.

"No." Your voice cracks and the tears immediately well up as you meet your friend's concerned gaze. "I don't know if I can do this."

"What? Of course you can!" Wanda rushes towards you and takes a seat next to you on the bed, wrapping one arm around you and holding your hand with her other free hand. "This is just the pain and the realization that you're about to give birth talking, Y/N. You're going to be fine. And on the days where it does become too much, you have a whole team at your beck and call. You and baby Wanda are going to be fine."

Wetly chuckling, you say, "Nice try. That's not her name."

"Well you can't blame me for trying."

A wave of pain courses through you and you squeeze Wanda's hand. She hisses, you snarl, and when it finally passes you can sense a wave of pain radiating from your friend. Glancing at her, your eyes widen. "Oh no. I'm so sorry!"

Cradling her hand to her chest, she weakly smiles. "It's fine. It's not broken. I just- I never realized how strong of a grip you have."

You quickly take her injured hand within your own, concentrating on siphoning her pain away. You know it works when she tenses and pulls her hand out of your grip. "What was that? You had black veins-"

"It's okay. I was just taking away your pain. See?" You say, gesturing to her hand. You watch as she glances at her hurt hand once more, flexing her fingers and then looking at you in surprise. "Yeah. I kind of forgot I could do that."

"You forgot?" She laughs. Then sobering up, she says, "I bet you wish you could take your own pain away right about now."

"You have no idea."

When you become truly uncomfortable, Wanda has you sit in the middle of the bed and pulls your hair up into a messy bun before having you lean forward. Using as much pressure as possible, she presses her fist into the small of your back in hopes of alleviating some of the pain. Then when Doctor Cho finally makes her arrival, she comes with a cup of ice chips in hand and tells you to crunch on that while you're waiting.

Doctor Cho is just as excited as Wanda and you can't help but glare at them when one particular contraction has you groaning out in pain for over a minute. "Oh fuck HYDRA!" You shout once it's over. "There's so much fucking pain and I didn't even get to have the fun part of sex!"

Wanda's eyes are wide as Doctor Cho tries to hide her smile, moving around the machines to make sure you and baby are doing okay still.

"Um, bad time?" You glance at the doorway to find Steve and Bucky standing shoulder to shoulder. Steve looks rather amused whereas Bucky is looking at you as if you have bad news to deliver.

"Steve, the next time you go after HYDRA, kick them in the balls. Hard."

He snorts. "Sure thing, sweetheart. How long have you been in labor?" He nudges Bucky and the two of them walk in when Doctor Cho doesn't immediately shoo them out.

"Since four this morning."

Bucky and Steve are both about to admonish you, no doubt, when a contraction hits yet again. Your features immediately transform as you snarl and Wanda makes sure to keep her hands tucked close to herself. "They're getting closer," she muses. Then looking at Bucky, she says, "Come over here and hold her hand. She nearly broke mine earlier."

Bucky gulps. "Doll?"

"Give me your fucking hand, James!" Steve snorts as Bucky hightails it towards the bed, slipping you his vibranium hand for you to squeeze. And once the contraction passes, you slump back into bed and sniffle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's, uh, it's fine. I understand."

"Just so you know, I got that on camera." Tony saunters in, Pepper at his side.

But while Tony is far too amused at your pain and yelling at Bucky, Pepper is elated for the life you're about to bring into this world. Wanda relinquishes her spot next to you so Pepper can slip in. "Hey Y/N, how are you holding up?" Her gentle touch as she brushes the sweaty flyaways off your forehead makes you cry once more.

"This sucks."

"I know it does, sweet girl, but trust me. It's going to be all worth it the second you hear your baby's cries."

Another contraction hits and you're grateful that Bucky had never pulled his hand back. You squeeze his vibranium hand and whimper in pain, and Doctor Cho comes forward. "Okay, Y/N, I'm going to have to see how far you're dilated now since the contractions are only two minutes apart."

Doctor Cho helps you prop up your knees and, though the blanket is still covering you, Tony blanches. And that- that makes you weakly laugh. "Alright, everyone, if you're going to stay I'm going to need you to stand near my head and not my feet. Got it? Cool."

Pepper quietly laughs and leans in to press a kiss to your temple. "We're going to go, but good luck! I can't wait to meet her."

"Thank you," you say just as she pulls away. "For everything."

Pepper winks at you and grabs Tony's hand, he willingly letting her take the lead. Wanda reclaims her spot and Bucky doesn't budge an inch. Steve, however, nervously rubs at the back of his neck. "I'll be in the waiting room and alerting everyone." Then meeting your gaze, his expression softens. "You're going to do great. I'll see you after."

You smile at him, but another wave of pain prevents you from saying anything. And once Wanda and Bucky are left alone, Doctor Cho pushes the blanket and your hospital gown up to your knees so she has an unobstructed view of your lower half. You wiggle at the sudden pressure between your legs and then she's looking up at you and smiling. "You're ready to push."

A sob stutters out as your fear comes back tenfold. You hold tighter to Bucky's hand and reach for Wanda's with your other hand, but you don't squeeze her like you are Bucky. "L-Last chance to book it out of here," you say without meeting their gaze. "Because the second I start pushing, you guys are stuck with me."

It's quiet and then, "As long as you want me, you have me. I am not going anywhere, sweetheart."

Your bottom lip trembles and Doctor Cho smiles adoringly at Bucky's words. Wanda chuckles. "Yeah. What he said."

"If you two are going to stay, I'm going to need you to wash up real quick and put on a sterilized cover."

Wanda and Bucky both assure you they'll be right back, and Doctor Cho leads them to a small room connected to yours where they can get ready. You can hear water running a moment later as your friends lather up and then the rustling of the paper coverings they have to put on that covers the front of their bodies. Then when all three return, Doctor Cho hurries around the room to prep what she needs for the delivery while also calling in a couple of nurses that you had okayed to be in the room when the two of you had made your birthing plan.

Bucky and Wanda take their places on either side of your bed, and Bucky immediately slips his hand into yours. Wanda just watches from her spot, anxiousness rolling off of her even though she's smiling widely. The two nurses finally enter the room, taking their place by flanking Doctor Cho when she slides a stool to the end of the bed you're laying on.

Doctor Cho smiles at you and gives you a nod. "Okay. You ready? We're going to push on three."

"Ready or not, she's coming," you say.

"That's the spirit." Doctor Cho then glances down at your lower half. "And push on one, two, three!"

Immediately you push with all your might for the first six seconds, but the excruciating pain flares up and you roar out in pain. You don't need a mirror to know your face has shifted and you barely hear Doctor Cho telling you to take a breath and that that was a really good push. So when you're allowed to take a break, you fall limp against the bed and start crying. "That hurt so fucking bad."

"Hey. That was good," Wanda assures you. "It'll be over soon."

You shake your head, denying her words when you come to the conclusion that you honestly don't know if you can do this. And then, "I think you dented my hand."

You startle at Bucky's words, snorting and then pulling your hand free and swatting him. "Shut up. No I didn't."

"You didn't," he grins. "But I got you to laugh. Now take a deep breath and do it again. Push."

Giving yourself a moment, you do exactly as you're told. You reclaim Bucky's hand and then push again, roaring out seconds later. When you fall back against the bed, tears are rolling down from the corners of your eyes. "I can't. I can't do this," you cry.

"You can and you have to," Wanda says. When you look at her, her own eyes are filled with tears. "You can do this, Y/N. You can. Now push again."

You continue to whimper until Doctor Cho tells you to push again. You do and it feels like the pain is even more excruciating now. Cho smiles. "Oh wow. There's the head." She glances up at you in surprise. "Your baby really wants out."

The nurses behind Doctor Cho immediately go into action, grabbing blankets and preparing for the baby's arrival. "Helen, I don't- I can't-"

"You can." You glance up at Bucky and nearly stop breathing when he leans down so his forehead is against yours. "You can do this, doll. You're almost there. Just a little bit more pain and then the most precious being ever will finally be here."

There's a lump in your throat, but you manage to swallow around it. "Easy for you to say. Your vagina isn't being stretched open way further than it's supposed to be."

He smirks. "Shut up and push."

"Fuck off, Barnes."

There's no malice behind your words, but it doesn't stop Bucky from acting as if offended. Then when you position yourself to push again, Wanda grabs onto one of your knees as Doctor Cho instructs her to and then Bucky does the same. You grunt, you scream, and you cry harder than you've ever cried, and after several more pushes there's a piercing wail that emits from the end of your bed.

All noise ceases except for the piercing cry and your eyes widen when you see Doctor Cho lift your baby still covered in a mess. She's laughing as she lightly wraps the baby in the blanket and then stands to lay her on your chest. "Congratulations."

The tears immediately come back tenfold as your arms come up to hold her against you. "Hi," you cry. "Oh my god. Hi."

The baby continues to wail as you glance between Wanda and Bucky, and you don't think you've ever seen them so stunned before. As your head falls back in exhaustion, Doctor Cho says, "We have to take her now. She needs to be cleaned up and we need to run a few tests before we bring her back."

And though you know she's right, you can't help the growl that bubbles up when you see one of the nurses step forward. You manage to suppress it seconds later, but the nurse is glued to her spot in fear. Bucky moves and you don't make a peep as he gently wraps the baby in the blanket once more and lifts her from your chest. Your eyes are glued to him as the smallest of smiles turn up the corners of his lips and then he's handing the baby to the waiting nurse.

"S-Sorry," you manage to say to the nurse.

And a moment later, she grins. "It's fine. New instincts are wreaking havoc on you, no doubt, but we we'll be back as soon as we can."

You nod at her, heart aching as you watch the nurses walk out of the room with your newborn daughter. Doctor Cho taps on your ankle and says, "Ready for the afterbirth?" Your nose wrinkles and she chuckles. "I know. I need to get you cleaned up and then tell you all about what your body's going to go through for the next month or so."

Sighing, you look up between your friends. "Go. Go find out how much Baby weighs and then tell the others she's here."

Wanda chuckles and her nose wrinkles in a cutesy manner as she gently cradles your face in her hands and leans down to kiss your forehead. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you."

"Mhm. Thank you for being here."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

Wanda takes her leave, no doubt to find the baby, and then you look up at Bucky. The emotion in his blue eyes is enough to make your heart stutter, but instead of repeating Wanda's actions, he grabs your hand and gently squeezes it. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me witness that. I-"

His own voice cracks and you smile knowingly up at him. "I know." You then bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his vibranium hand. "And thank you for being here. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you or Wanda."

He grins. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Chuckling, you gently push him away. "Go. Go find my girl and then tell the others. I'm sure they're dying to know what happened."

Bucky smirks before backing away and then turning on his heel to take his leave. As he makes it to the door, he rips off his hospital covering and trashes it. Then walking down the corridors, mind reeling over everything he's just witnessed, he lets his hearing take him to where he can hear a baby fussing.

He finds Wanda not long after and she glances at him, smiling. "Six pounds, three ounces."

He exhales in awe. "Jesus. She's tiny."

"She is."

Side by side, Bucky and Wanda watch as the nurses give the baby a washcloth bath. The entire time she's screaming her lungs out, but it only makes them smile and laugh and joke about how Y/N is going to have her hands full. They continue to watch as her foot prints are taken for the birth certificate and measured, then rocked back and forth until she calms down.

When she's placed in a bassinet to rest, Bucky clears his throat. "I'm gonna go find Stevie and the others. Give 'em the good news."

Wanda just hums in response and then Bucky's on his way once more. This is the lightest he's felt in a long while and he can't quite explain the pure elation that he felt the moment he watched Doctor Cho put the baby on Y/N's chest.

"Hey there, Tin Man," Sam calls out. "Any news?"

Bucky glances up, masking his surprise that his feet had taken him to the waiting room without really knowing. "Uh, yeah." He slowly grins. "Six pounds, three ounces." Pepper gasps, smiling wide. "She's, uh, she's in the observation room right now. Wanda's there if you wanna see her before they take her back to Y/N."

Pepper is the only one to get up while Steve, Sam, and Tony hang back. A moment later, all three watch as Bucky numbly takes a seat.

"I- that was.."

"Intense?"

"Beautiful?"

"Grotesque?" Tony muses.

Bucky briefly glares at Tony before looking at Steve. "I didn't know seeing the birth of a baby would feel like that."

"It usually doesn't," Sam says. "I mean childbirth is a beautiful thing, but it's not usually so intense unless there's feelings for the lady giving birth. Come into any realizations lately?"

Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. Slowly closing his mouth, he frowns and then takes a moment to think about everything since Y/N was brought back to the compound. He thinks about every moment he had with her one on one, and one particular moment stands out to him. He'd been sitting in the communal kitchen when he heard someone approaching, their fucking fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck being a dead giveaway as to who it was. Y/N had rounded the corner, hands on her lower back and complaining about the full moon taking a toll on her body this time around.

Bucky suddenly sits up, eyes widening. "And there it is," Steve chuckles.

Sam starts to swear. "That doesn't count! Feelings have to be returned. We don't know how Y/N feels."

"Please." Tony scoffs. "If you can't tell that she's in love with Robocop, then the muffled sex noises from when they're boinking like bunnies after she heals will be a dead giveaway." Sam groans as Steve snorts and Bucky stands up without a word. "Atta boy, Buckaroo. Go get your werewolf."

Back in the room, you're cradling your baby and staring down at her in complete awe as you run your forefinger down the bridge of her nose. Wanda and Pepper sit in chairs next to the bed, and Helen stands at the end of your bed. "So everything checks out perfectly," she says. "Ten fingers, ten toes. Perfectly healthy."

"But," you muse, eyes never leaving your daughter's face. When she doesn't say anything, you glance up and smile sheepishly. "You're nervous about something. I can smell it."

She grins. "Right. I forgot you could do that." You continue to stare at her until she shifts nervously from foot to foot. "Well, um, when we took a sample of her DNA it was automatically entered into the system."

"Okay."

"I wasn't looking for anything. I promise," she pauses to gulp, "but it pinged in our system. We got a hit for a DNA match to someone who was already in the system."

"W-What?" Helen nods, uncomfortable. You glance between Wanda and Pepper, and both are equally shocked as you are. Then meeting Helen's gaze again, you ask, "Who?"

"James Buchanan Barnes."

The air seems to whoosh out of you at that and you don't know how to feel. On one hand, you're absolutely delighted. But on the other hand, he had no say in this and you don't want him to feel obligated when he no doubt finds out. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I ran it twice more and Bucky's the father."

"I'm what?"

Dread pools in your stomach as your gaze darts to the opened door. Bucky stands there frozen. "Shit," you quietly curse.

No one dares to say anything, so Bucky stumbles further into the room. "Did you just so I was the father?"

You gulp. "I-It would make sense. Why HYDRA was so ecstatic," you explain, tears stinging your eyes. When he glances at you, you say. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," he says. "I'm not- I'm not mad." And in a move that surprises you after he's just found out that he's a father now, he sits on the bed just right in front of you. He smiles at you before his gaze darts down to your daughter and he chuckles softly while reaching up to gently caress her beanie clad head. Lowering his voice, he says, "I'm.. happy that it's me. That she's mine. Ours." He then looks up at you, his smile vanishing at the sight of your tears. "I mean, I won't push my way into your lives if you're not-"

"Shut up," you sniffle. "She's ours. Of course I want you there, but only if you want to be there."

Bucky's radiant smile in response makes you swoon, and Pepper and Wanda finally chuckle.

"I hate to break up this moment," Helen says, "but I need a name for the birth certificate. And signatures."

Guiltily looking at Bucky, you say, "I already chose a name. If I had known-"

"It's fine, sweetheart. I'm sure you chose a good name."

You nod and then glance over at Wanda. "I, uh, I wanted to honor the pseudo big brother she'll never get to meet." Wanda's smile falters, eyes glistening. "Her name is Petra. Petra Amaris." Pepper immediately coos and Wanda loses her composure. Your eyes widen and you glance at Bucky, gesturing for him to take your daughter. Panic flits across his features, but then he steels himself and reaches to carefully take her from your arms. Then once you're free, you maneuver over to the side of the bed closest to Wanda and reach for her hand. "Hey. Hey, shh. If you don't like it, I can-"

"No," she's quick to cut you off. "I love it. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"It's a beautiful name," Pepper assures you.

"Good."

Bucky looks so enthralled with Petra in his arms that you look for Helen and gesture for her to hand over the birth certificate. Taking it and a pen, you get to work filling in your name and signing it at the bottom. Then looking at the father portion of the certificate, you figure you'll let Bucky fill it in if he wishes. But as for Petra's last name, you fill it in without even thinking about it.

"Here. Your turn," you say. "Only if you want to though. No pressure."

Bucky glances at the birth certificate, reading it over. He grins before glancing at Petra once more and then takes the pen from you, gesturing for you to place the clipboard down on the bed so he can write. It takes only a few seconds and then you're handing it over back to Helen with a beaming smile.

It doesn't seem like Bucky is going to relinquish Petra anytime soon, so you take the moment to lean back in the bed and rest for a bit. However, you only get to relax for a few minutes before there's a knock on the door.

"Aw man, you're lookin' awfully cozy with that kid in your arms, Barnes," Sam says.

Steve elbows his friend as Tony makes a beeline for Pepper. "Huh. She's actually pretty cute," Tony says. "I thought I was going to have to come in here and lie about how cute she was."

"Tony!"

You grin at him, but Steve steals your attention away as he hovers over Bucky and reaches in to touch your daughter's tiny hand. "What's her name?"

You and Bucky meet each other's gaze, silently communicating about whether or not you should tell them. You give him a nod and he slowly smirks. He moves so both his feet are planted on the floor, and Sam and Tony have a better view of the baby cradle in his arms. "Her name is Petra."

"Aw damn. Named after the Maximoff speedster," Sam says, shaking his head. "Should have seen that coming."

Wanda giggles as you snort, but then you have to bite your lip to keep from bursting into laughter when Bucky tells them her full name. "Petra Amaris Barnes."

The men seem to all freeze, but then Pepper and Wanda coo about how adorable it is that you gave her Bucky's last name.

"Wait, what?" Poor Steve. He looks so confused. "Barnes? She has your-"

"I'm the random HYDRA operative who apparently supplied the other half of Petra's DNA."

"Holy shit."

"You got that right, birdie," Tony mutters.

You giggle and then shrug when Steve meets your gaze. "It was a surprise to us all, but apparently Bucky's more than okay with it."

The room goes quiet as the situation sinks in and then Tony starts to giggle. All eyes turn on him when says, "We sent in Barnes to seal the deal with Y/N and he really sealed the deal, huh? Got him a baby momma and everything."

You blink in surprise and then stare at Bucky, grinning softly when he seems to pink in embarrassment and refuses to look at you. You glance at Wanda and gesture towards the door, and she seems to get the hint. "Right, well," she says, standing up. "Why don't we give these two a bit of privacy while we go make some phone calls to Clint, Laura, and Nat. I'm sure they'd like to know Petra is healthy and that Y/N is doing fine."

Steve and Sam get the hint, but Pepper has to push Tony out of the room. Then left alone with Bucky, you smile at him. "Care to explain what Tony meant about you coming in here to get the girl?"

You watch as he gulps and you can see him trying to piece together what he's going to say. "I might have come to the conclusion that I liked you more than a friend and was coming to see how you felt about that."

Your breath hitches. He.. likes you? That was something you kind of already knew, but were waiting for him to say something. And leave it to him to confess after giving birth and your emotions were kind of haywire at the moment.

Unable to speak at the moment, you carefully lean forward until you're on your knees and Bucky glances up in surprise. And without warning, you press your lips to his in one of the most softest of kisses since he is still holding Petra.

It takes a minute for his brain to reboot and when he does, you smile against his mouth as he returns the kiss. "Is that," he mumbles, "is that your way of saying you like me too?"

His eyes sparkle and you huff a quiet laugh, biting the bottom corner of your lip as you nod. "I do. Have for a while, but didn't want to scare you off since I was pregnant."

"You wouldn't have," he assures you. "I adored the two of you long before I found out she was mine. I'm all in if you'll have me," he says.

You nod. "I want you."

"Good. 'Cause you're not getting rid of me. Ever."

"That's fine by me."

[kaorusakurayashikiswife]

new beginnings

pairing: Kaoru Sakurayashiki x f!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: angst (not really idk); fluff; exes to lovers; not proofread

notes: first post!! I saw that there weren’t really a lot of writings for Kaoru and decided to take it upon myself to write some!! I hope you enjoy, and please do tell me if there’s a mistake anywhere or if I there’s a warning I should add

“Are you ever going to skate again?”

Kojiro grins at you, handing you your food. You were on your break from work and decided to visit your old friend from high school.

“Kojiro you know why I can’t”

“It’s been a year I’m sure everyone wants to see you skating again!” You can’t blame him for his enthusiasm, it had almost been a year after you decided to quit skating due to breaking up with Kaoru. Before you quit you were known in ‘S’ as one of the top contenders, good enough to go against Adam, you had never gone on a beef against him since you had no interest to compete against someone like him.

“C’mon (Y/N)! You know everyone wants to see the infamous RIN again! After your sudden disappearance last year your fans have been missing you, there's even a new guy you can compete against!” You leaned in to cover his mouth, you didn’t want anyone knowing the name you were under while skating in S.

“Fine! I’ll visit but I’m not competing, I just want to see the poor soul that caught Adam’s eye.”

Kojiro smiled, knowing you, you’d probably compete either way, he knew that you’d been missing skating in S after he found you practicing. Your break up with Kaoru had changed their dynamic as you wanted nothing to do with him while he regretted letting you go.

The break up was because Kaoru kept insisting to go against Adam, you knew it was a bad idea, you had tried convincing him many times that the Adam he once knew was gone. Kaoru didn't like it as Adam was very dear to him, he had snapped at you and told you that you didn’t know him and that he’d rather break up with you than listening to your nonsense. You pitied the man, you’d heard what Adam had done to him a few days prior and wanted nothing more than to slap the man for hurting Kaoru.

“You won’t regret it! I’ll see you then RIN”

You hit him again, wanting to keep your professional life and personal life separate, “Say that name again out loud and I’m not going”.

Kojiro watched as you left the restaurant, sakura keychain still in dangling out of your bag like it had been so many years ago.

“You guys really are similar in that aspect”

Once you get home you sigh, your job has been taking a toll on you and you really needed a break. You look into your closet and see your skateboard, the only reason why you quit skating is because it reminded you of him, he was the one to teach you how to skate after all. The same man who decided to leave you to chase after the memory of the friend he once knew.

Making up your mind you change into your outfit and head down the same familiar path leading to the mine.

“Yo (Y/N)! Long time no see”

“You asshole! you call me by my name here and call me by my S name in public! Do you have a death wish?” You get closer to Kojiro to give him a piece of your mind, until you see four guys next to him: two boys who look like they’re in high school, an intimidating guy with clown-looking make-up, and a little boy who you think you’ve seen on TV.

“IS THAT RIN?!?” the redhead boy yelled, it caused everyone to turn to you, you were now the center of attention, mutters about the sudden appearance of one of the most known skaters in S.

“Who’s she?”

Compared to the redhead, the blue haired guy seemed like he was new, you assumed he was the rookie that Kojiro had mentioned earlier in the day.

“She’s a really well-known skater in S! she’s beaten a lot of people here, it’s said that she’s on par with Adam, but they’ve never gone against each other!”

“damn right and never will, I like not having broken bones thank you” you muttered, as everyone calmed down, they introduced themselves and seemed intrigued to see an old face.

“I came to see the new rookie everyone’s been talking about, I’m only here to watch though” everyone’s faces dropped, they seemed disappointed to not be able to see you skate.

“Then why’d you bring your skateboard hm?” Kojiro smirks at you, knowing that you’d come here to skate a little, even if it was just for fun.

“Fine, how about this? SNOW” you pointed at Langa and motioned him to follow you, “you’re coming with me, I wanna see why everyone is talking about you” you take Langa along and decide to skate against him in the course.

“Sorry I’m late, I forgot to charge Carla earlier today so she finished charging a little later than usual” Kaoru stood next to Kojiro to see why everyone seemed more excited. “Right on time Cherry! Look who’s skating today”.

Kaoru looked at the screen, it was you, he hadn’t seen you in a year and you never bothered to answer the messages he had sent you, not that he blamed you for that. You looked just as beautiful as he remembered, if not more, the way your hair flowed freely made you look ethereal, and your face seemed to glow while you were skating, an expression he had missed seeing from you.

He wanted to apologize, after the incident with Adam that landed him in the hospital he realized that his friend was gone, no semblance of him left. While in his hospital bed he remembered the words you had told him before he broke up with you. He knew he had no right to apologize now, but seeing you at S made him realize he missed you and wanted you back, if you’d have him of course.

Langa was surprised, your style of skating was different from anything he’d seen before, it looked complicated but you didn’t seem to be struggling at all. Due to him being distracted he hadn’t realized that you’d already crossed the finish line before him.

“That was good! You knew how to snowboard before learning how to skate right?” You asked excitedly, it had been a while since you’ve had this much freedom while skating. “Yes, how’d you know?”

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to snowboard! Your stance seemed similar to those in videos I’ve seen online!”

As you walk back to the rest of the group you see him. Kaoru’s hair got a bit longer but apart from that nothing seemed too different, he still had that unapproachable aura around him. He seemed to be staring at you but you refused to look at him in the eye, you still missed him after all.

“Long time no see (Y/N)” He tried reaching out to you but you didn’t move at all, “Don’t call me that here.”

“Right, sorry Rin”

It seemed that everyone around you was aware of the tense atmosphere, although nobody really knew of what relationship you and Cherry held.

As everyone headed home, you decided to stay back and skate a little, you didn’t know when the next time you were going to be able to skate again after all. That’s when you notice it, just a little behind you were Joe and Cherry trying to catch up to you. “Rin! I thought you weren’t skating anymore?” You didn’t need to turn to see that there was a smile on his face.

“Don’t you have any fangirls to be with?” You retort, speeding a bit to gain distance from them.

“They all went home, why? You jealous?”

“As if.”

“Cherry over here wants to talk to you.”

In all honesty, you’d forgot he was even there at all, if it weren’t for Carla telling him the angles once in a while, you wouldn’t even have noticed him. You were pondering whether you should listen to what he had to say, “He’s been all gloomy ever since he saw you”. You heard someone fall, assuming it was Kojiro you kept going, he deserved it anyway.

You and Kaoru skated in silence for a bit, the only sounds heard were the wheels of both of your skateboards. As you were the first to pass the finish line you stop, getting off of your skateboard and getting ready to go back home.

“So what’d you want to talk about?”

Kojiro looks surprised, he thought you hadn’t noticed him staring at you. Frankly, he wanted to apologize and ask for a second chance, he knew he was undeserving of it though, you only wanted the best for him, but he pushed you away.

“I wanted to apologize for before, I know you meant well, but I only pushed you away when you tried helping me. I should’ve listened to what you said.”

Although it was a bit short and awkward, you knew he meant it. To be honest, you don’t blame him, he only wanted to know what had happened to his friend after he disappeared and came back with a whole different personality. You would’ve done the same if a friend whom you considered family did the same. You knew that even though he had finally come to terms with the fact that the Adam he knew in high school was gone, he was still hurting. You understood all of this, yet it was still hard to forget how angry he’d gotten at you, how he went on and on about how you didn’t know Adam at all (even though you’d been there when all four of you skated together in high school), and how he couldn’t be with someone who talked ill about his best friend. You remember how he broke up with you through a phone call after being late for a date, how you had to show up in your friend’s front door with all of your stuff, in fear of going to Kojiro’s restaurant because he was probably there.

“You didn’t need to wait a year to apologize to me” He flinched, knowing full-well what you were speaking of. He knew he had messed up the moment he ended the call, but his pride didn’t let him go back to your shared apartment to apologize to you, and he assumed that you were probably packing your bags as he headed to Kojiro’s place to drink.

“I didn’t know what to do after I went back to the apartment with your stuff gone”

“Well, I can’t just stay in my ex-boyfriend’s apartment after he just broke up with me can I?”

There was a silent pause, you were basically ready to head back home, but decided to wait to see if he had more to say. “Alright, if you’re done I’ll be heading home now.”

He quickly grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving, “it’s late, let me take you home”.

You declined, Kojiro had already promised you to take you back home. At the mention of his name he looked confused.

“Kojiro left a long time ago though?”

You were surprised, looking around for the tall muscle-headed idiot, but Kaoru was right, he left you behind. You were really going to kill him this time, it was probably part of his plan so you could talk things out with Kaoru.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d be grateful if you did then” you offered him a small smile, you had to be nice to the person driving you back to your apartment.

The ride home was silent, all he could hear were Carla’s directions to your apartment. As you got home and thanked him for the ride he stopped you again.

“Can I have another chance?” You stayed silent, he took your silence as a rejection and started his engine to leave, but this time, you were the one to stop him.

“You still owe me a meal at Kojiro’s” He blinked, confused as to what you were saying. Then he remembered, he had made you a promise that every time you beat him in S he’d buy you your favorite dish at Kojiro’s restaurant.

He smiled, frown no longer on his face after the promise of a new beginning, “Of course, tell me when you’re free to get it”.

[theladyofdeath]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 4}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2550

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Apollo

– God of light, prophecy, inspiration, poetry, the sun, music and arts, medicine and healing

Aelin tried to convince herself that she got up and got ready two hours early for class because of her busy schedule. She kept telling herself it was for the meeting she had with her advisor, about a possible internship at the end of the semester.

She knew that both reasons, while extremely important, were full of shit. She knew she’d showered, blow dried and curled her hair for Rowan. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress him. She’d already done that and the chance she had to be with him had come and gone.

No, now it was about proving to him that even though this class may be a gen ed, she was taking it seriously.

Dropping the class had crossed her mind. She really didn’t need to take it, she could still find a different one to pick up. But she didn’t want to think about the sort of impression it would leave about her.

If there was anything to know about Aelin Galathynius, it was that she was not a quitter, nor did she run from her problems.

Or heartaches.

With one last look in the mirror, and a whistle from Lysandra, Aelin was out the door and hurrying across campus. She grabbed a coffee on the way, but avoided her usual place, knowing full well that Rowan enjoyed the same famous cafe that she did.

He wasn’t there yet when she got to the hall, but she took the same seat she had the class before.

She wondered if Rowan would be looking for her this time.

She quickly shook the thought away.

With her hot coffee on the corner of her fold up desk, she was pulling out her notebook and a pen, waiting anxiously for class to begin.

For him to walk through the door.

Apparently he liked to be right on the dot, though, because students continued to wander in, but he did not.

She was tapping her pen against her notebook, doing her best not to stare at the clock. She was just anxious for her day to start. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Rowan.

Professor Whitethorn, she amended in her head. She had to quit thinking of him as Rowan. She couldn’t think of him like that anymore, his body pressing into hers, lips on her neck, as he—

Shaking her head, Aelin sighed and suddenly realized that the rest of the class had hushed. She was so focused on reprimanding herself for her highly inappropriate thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him come through the door and begin setting up for class. When she dared to glance towards the front, she found his eyes on her. He quickly looked away, going back to his laptop and setting up the PowerPoint on screen.

Maybe he hadn’t been looking at her.

Maybe it had all been in her mind.

But she didn’t think it had been.

He had been watching her.

“Happy Thursday, class,” he began, as the title page of his presentation flashed onto the board. “Glad to see you all showed up again. Must mean my first class didn’t suck.” Quiet laughter thrummed through the room. Aelin couldn’t muster a laugh, though. “On Tuesday, we covered the basics. So, today… Sorry, we’re doing that again.”

More laughter, especially from the pretty, flirty girls up front.

Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Which, when she settled her eyes back on Rowan, he definitely saw.

Come on, get your shit together, she chastised herself. With her back straightened, she gave him her full attention.

She took dutiful notes, but his slides didn’t hold much in the way of information. They were mostly headers, with a few bullet points. Most of the important information, information she knew would be critical for homework or exams, came straight from Rowan’s mouth.

It was clear that he loved mythology, that it wasn’t just a class his aunt had tossed his way and told him to figure it out. He was a trove of knowledge and she noticed he had a habit of going on slight tangents when he got going on a topic he was clearly interested in.

After a student asked him to clarify what he meant about Hercules not being Zeus’ only son, he ended up talking for nearly twenty minutes about what the beloved Disney movie had gotten wrong. Aelin had stopped taking notes and was watching him go on and on about how Hades, while god of the underworld, was not necessarily a villain. He just had a job to do. A job that had rules that must be followed, or the consequences could damn not only him, but others involved. His eyes found hers again and the amused smile on her face fell as she made the correlation between their own situation and the story.

They held each other’s gazes for far longer than was appropriate, and Rowan cleared his throat, going back to the PowerPoint, and the  predetermined lesson plans he’d made, which didn’t include children’s movie breakdowns.

She watched him.

She listened.

And she found it all fascinating. 

Rowan peeked at the clock after going on and on, and stilled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll end there. There is an assignment due by tomorrow evening. You can find and submit it online. It’s an opinion piece. I want a little insight as to why you were so interested to take this class, or what you’ve found fascinating so far.” He sat on his desk, his legs hanging over the side, his feet nearly touching the ground as he leaned back on his palms. Aelin found it charming. “You’re going to write a short essay telling me of your favorite deity. It could be one I’ve talked about so far, or one I haven’t. It’s your choice. But, tell me why they are your favorite. Give me a little depth. And, remember, this is a college course. Grammar counts.”

The clock struck nine-thirty and everyone began packing up. Aelin had been so captivated by his voice that she had to snap herself back to reality.

She quickly packed up her bag, alongside the other students around her. She noticed then how young they all were, and she was willing to bet that she may be the only senior on the roster. As she was descending the stairs, she found Rowan’s eyes on her again, but he looked away as his attention was taken, thanks to the group of girls who’d been sitting in the front row. She heard vague questions of whether they could all write about Aphrodite, since they all related to her.

The scoff Aelin thought she’d kept to herself had apparently been out loud, since not only Rowan looked at her as she passed, but so did the three girls. With his attention on her again, she decided to give him a little wave.

“See you later, Professor Whitethorn.”

If there was some extra sway to her hips, it wasn’t on purpose.

At least that’s what she told herself.

Two and a half hours later, Aelin was starving. She’d just gotten out of an extremely complicated lab and she could barely focus over the growling of her stomach. Twice, the instructor had looked over at her, half expecting to find a dog stashed under the table she was working at.

So when the class let out, she was hurrying toward the cafeteria ready to get a salad from the salad bar and a big ass slice of pizza.

It was all about balance. 

As she was waiting in line to fill her plate with salad, she heard a voice behind her.

“Are you actually getting lettuce or just filling your plate with ham, cheese, and croutons?” 

Aelin looked over her shoulder to find Chaol, her ex, suppressing a smile.

Aelin chuckled. “If it’s the same price, you may as well pile up on the good stuff.” 

Chaol gave her a small smile. “Fair enough. It’s good to see you, Aelin. You look good.”

Things hadn’t ended the best between her and Chaol, but that had been just after freshman year. At least now when they ran into one another, they could have nice little conversations like this one.

No hard feelings.

“You too,” she said, and he did. He’d been in an accident the year before. They weren’t sure he was going to walk again. In all honesty, it was just good to see him on his feet.

“How long until your class?” He asked, sliding his tray along behind hers.

She glanced down at her watch. “About forty five minutes. You?”

“This is my long break,” he sighed. “I’ve got an hour and a half, but didn’t feel like leaving campus. Want to have lunch with me?”

“Sure.” Her smile wasn’t forced, it was easy and she was glad they could even do this, when three years again, they could barely be in the same room.

“I assume you’re getting a piece of pizza after this,” Chaol said with a smirk, nodding towards her plate. “So I’ll grab us a table while you get the rest of your lunch.”

She scoffed but nodded, and went off to get a slice of pizza. When she ordered her pizza, she also got a slice of cheesecake. It was his favorite, something she hadn’t forgotten, but it didn’t hurt that she liked it, too.

Finding him in the cafeteria, she sat down at the table across from him. “How’s Yrene doing?”

He blushed, and Aelin had to admit it was adorable. After his accident, he’d fallen for his physical therapist, and she was just as smitten with him. It must have been all the one-on-one sessions, because Chaol had never been one to let someone in. Aelin had met Yrene early in her med classes, but Yrene had specialized in PT and graduated in less than three years, taking as many classes as she could manage and even studying through the summers as well.

“It’s going good,” he said, at last. “We, uh, just moved in together, actually.”

Aelin lifted a brow. “That was fast.”

Chaol shot her a look.

Aelin laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, good for you. I like Yrene. A lot. You two are good together.”

Chaol cleared his throat before taking a bite of his salad. “Thanks.” 

Aelin chuckled, taking a bite of her pizza.

Chaol blinked. “What?”

“You get so uncomfortable when it comes to feelings,” she said. “Always have.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “That’s not true.”

Aelin stopped mid-chew and raised a brow.

Even Chaol couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What about you? Seeing anyone?”

Aelin hesitated, then said, “No.”

A slow grin appeared on Chaol’s mouth. “Didn’t sound so sure about what one.”

Aelin shrugged. “Better be nice or I’m not sharing this magnificent cheesecake with you.”

Holding up his hands in placation, Chaol went back to his salad. Rowan was a dangerous topic, one she wouldn’t share with anyone but Lysandra, so she summed it up quickly. “Met someone I thought I hit it off with. Turns out we didn’t work.”

He slowly nodded. Aelin knew he’d had a couple failed relationships between her and Yrene. “I get it, I’m sorry. Still sucks.”

Shrugging again, she turned to her salad. “It happens. Not a big deal. So if you’re living with Yrene, does that mean you and Dorian broke up? Or is he playing house with you, too?”

Chaol leveled her with a look. Chaol and Dorian had been best friends long before they came to the University of Orynth. They were both from Adarlan, both trying to get away from overbearing fathers, and decided college across the country was the way to do it. They’d been roommates every year and Aelin couldn’t even imagine Chaol living with anyone except Dorian. But now he was. “He moved into an apartment with Manon this semester when I moved in with Yrene.”

Aelin blinked. “Blackbeak? He moved in with Manon Blackbeak?”

Nodding, Chaol went on. “Apparently, they’ve been dating for about a year, without anyone noticing.”

Something in the way he said it told Aelin that he had noticed, but when Dorian had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. And apparently, he’d decided to date one of the most terrifying women on campus.

Aelin’s response was eloquent. “Wow.”

Chaol grinned. “I like it when you’re caught off guard. It’s satisfying.”

With a scoffed she nudged his leg with the toe of her sneaker. “Well, I don’t. Dorian will be getting a very angry phone call this afternoon.”

“I’ll be sure to give him a warning,” Chaol promised.

Aelin chuckled, taking the last bite of her pizza. “It’s good to see you all happy, though. Really.”

Chaol’s eyes softened. “Thanks, Aelin.”

She nodded. “Even if I am terrified that Dorian will get eaten alive.”

Chaol laughed, and she had forgotten how nice Chaol’s rare, hearty laugh was.

She meant it. She was so happy for them, both of them. It was interesting how things changed over the course of a few short years.

Their conversation continued, as did the laughs, and before she knew it, Aelin glanced down at her watch. She had less than fifteen minutes to haul ass back to the nursing building for her next class. Chaol, who had much longer to sit with nothing to do, assured her that he could handle her trash and told her to get to class. With a hug, and a promise that they’d have dinner soon, all of them, even Manon, Aelin was hurrying out of the cafeteria building.

Somehow, the entire time she’d been having lunch with Chaol, she hadn’t noticed the set of pine green eyes watching her.

Rowan’s own break had been at the same time as hers, but the gen ed building was much closer than wherever she was having to run off to, so he had longer to sit and— there was no denying it— brood. They were halfway across the room, so he couldn’t hear any of their conversation. He had no clue who the tall man was she smiled at so often, but clearly they were very familiar with each other with how easily they talked. And he made her laugh. A lot.

Rowan wasn’t sure why that was what grated on his nerves the most, but it unsettled him.

Seeing Aelin with someone else, someone clearly her own age, it all unsettled him. He didn’t like it. Almost as much as her parting words in class had.

See you later, Professor Whitethorn.

It’s like she was mocking him, yet at the same time, she clearly wasn’t. She was doing exactly as he’d asked of her, seeing him as her professor, not as her boyfriend.

No, he reprimanded himself. Not boyfriend. Hookup.

They’d had sex one time, that didn’t give either of them any claim over the other. It was a hookup and nothing more. And she was his gods-damned student.

She was off limits, in every way possible.

Yet he couldn’t figure out why seeing her with someone else, someone she should clearly be interested in instead of him, had him seeing red.

[ifmywishescametrue]

omg now im jealous about all of the breaking up and making up stories!!! they're all so wonderful but is it okay to ask for a steve/tony one? i know you've made one inspired by ts (amazing) and this time, maybe they meet/bump in a coffee shop? idk angst potential but also hopeful/happy ending aahhh. your stories are amazing esp ivy!!! thank you! <3

thank you so much!! it ended up being more cute than angsty, but I hope you like it!

Steve's pencil drifts idly across the page of his sketchbook with no end vision in mind. He's killing time until Nat shows up, which could be anywhere between the next five minutes and the next two hours with her vague text that simply said running late. When he looks up to reach for his near empty coffee cup, he freezes with his hand in the middle of the air.

At first he thinks it might not even actually be him. Tony's hair was never quite this well styled before, always a tangled mop on his head that sometimes fell into his eyes. Steve used to spend hours sometimes running his fingers through those wild curls while Tony slept on his chest. It's been tamed since then, cut shorter and held into place by some type of product. The facial hair is new, too. He remembers a time when it would always come in patchy and uneven, and Tony would pout as he shaved away the latest attempt at looking older than he was. The eighteen year old boy in oversized hoodies and stained jeans he met years ago has been replaced by a man in a well-pressed, expensive looking suit with a leather briefcase, like he just stepped out of a boardroom a minute ago. From what Steve has read about his life since they broke up, he probably did.

Steve stares without fully meaning to and for much longer than he would have if it was intentional. He watches him order his drink and smiles when the barista’s eyes widen at what he knows is an overly complicated order, wondering if Tony ever did finish his quest to find that perfect combination of syrup flavors, sugar, and cream that only he would ever like.

He catches the double take when Tony notices him there, right as he’s taking his first sip of the iced drink, and the cough when he chokes on it is anything but subtle. Steve looks away with red cheeks and tries to pretend he wasn’t staring, but it’s a futile effort. He can’t say he minds, though. Not when it means Tony walks over to him and unceremoniously drops himself into the chair across from him.

His mouth forms a familiar smirk, and he says, “You seem to have a staring problem, Rogers.”

Suddenly, Steve is nineteen again, falling hopelessly in love with the boy in his introductory chemistry class. It felt sort of like fate at first when they were paired together for the final project, and Steve remembers thinking that his chances were shot to hell when Tony sat down next to him and said those exact words. He never was any good at being discreet.

Back then, for that first time, all he could manage was a stuttered apology in response. But eventually it became their thing. Something just for them that no one else could ever understand. When Steve would watch him from across the room at parties, because he knew how much Tony loved having his eyes on him, and Tony would saunter over with that same smirk and those same words, there was only ever one reply.

“Guess I just really like what I see,” Steve says, and Tony’s face splits into a grin that matches Steve’s own. He’s still beautiful, even if it’s different now. Less softness to his appearance and more defined edges and sharp lines, but heart stoppingly beautiful nonetheless. He doesn’t quite say as much, but he does comment, “You do look good, by the way. Different, but good.”

Tony’s smile softens into another familiar one. It’s his smile for compliments, when he’s thinking self-deprecating thoughts that he won’t voice. Instead he’ll turn the attention back around, shifting the spotlight.

“So do you. The good part, but not really the different part.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, contemplating if not looking different contributes to the good or not. He should look different somehow, shouldn’t he? After two and a half years not seeing each other in person and what feels like a lifetime’s worth of heartbreak in between then and now, he should look as changed as he feels. As changed as Tony looks now, like he’s someone new entirely. He’s pretty sure the t-shirt he’s wearing now is one he owned back then.

“Thanks,” Steve says anyway, for lack of anything better.

Just before it has the chance to fall into awkward silence, Tony says, “I didn’t know you were in New York these days. I would’ve called or something if I’d known.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Would you have?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I would’ve thought about it, at least. You know, stalked you online, found your number, dialed and hung up a few times.”

Steve laughs, fiddling with the straw wrapper from earlier to give himself something to look at other than Tony. “I moved back last year. Thought about calling, but I figured you were busy. Didn’t want to waste your time.”

It’s only a partial truth. He did think about calling when he came to Brooklyn after his year-long internship in London ended, but he didn’t want to know what Tony would say if he did. If he would have some sort of transparent excuse to avoid seeing him or if it would be an outright rejection.

“I would’ve made time for you,” Tony says, so painfully sincere that Steve has to look up again to meet his eyes.

He wonders if Tony is thinking of that last fight, if it’s a purposeful or coincidental reference to some of what Steve said. It was by far the worst fight they’d ever had, all over the phone with an ocean between them and so many things that Steve still wishes he could take back. Accusations flew on both sides until the entire thing was blown so completely out of proportion, yet impossible to reel back in. He should have just hung up the phone before it went that far. Before he could tell Tony that he always felt unimportant compared to everything else in his life, which was sometimes true but entirely unfair. Before Tony could say that Steve talked about Peggy in the same way he used to talk about him, and he didn’t have to finish the thought for Steve to understand the implication.

“Are we talking about it?” Steve asks.

Tony shrugs, feigning casual, but just the corner of his lip is between his teeth in that way that means he’s nervous and trying to hide it. “I guess that depends on what this is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we said back then that maybe it was just bad timing. You were in London, and I was in Boston until graduation, and it was always going to be a bit of a mess, but there was always that someday chance, right? So maybe this is someday, and we talk about it, and try to get it right this time,” Tony says. “Or maybe that was just something we said and didn’t mean, and I ask you about your life, and you ask about mine, and we talk and laugh and pretend that we’re friends again for the next half hour or so before we go our separate ways.”

It’s an easy choice, really. If there’s one thing that Steve’s sure of, it’s that it’s always been him and always will be.

“I don’t want to go separate ways,” Steve says. “The first time was hard enough, and I never really moved on. I got better, but I don’t think I’ve been more than just fine in a long time.”

Tony nods slowly, “I kept thinking you would call, you know. Back then. I thought you would call and tell me that it was a mistake and it would be okay again, but you never did. Although, I guess I could’ve called, too.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“For the same reason as you, probably. I couldn’t risk it if you didn’t want me again. Couldn’t risk getting back together just to break up again, either. We weren’t exactly the poster children for making long distance work.”

“We were terrible at it, weren’t we?”

Tony’s smile is tinged with the pain of the past. “It’s kind of funny because I remember thinking that it might be a good thing for us when you told me about London. Can’t get sick of somebody if they’re not always around.”

“You thought I would get sick of you? You never told me that.”

“Why would I?” Tony laughs. “Just put all my insecurities on display like that? Come on, Steve, that doesn’t sound like me, does it?”

Steve laughs with him briefly, “No, but I could’ve told you back then that it wasn’t possible. Told you that I wanted you around all the time and I missed you every second you were gone. I might’ve even stayed if you had told me. I was thinking about it, you know? I almost turned the internship down. Probably would’ve if you’d asked even once for me not to go.”

“It was your career. I never would’ve asked you to give that up for me.”

“There would have been something else. Another job somewhere closer to you.”

“I still wouldn’t have asked,” Tony says. “And I would have told you to go if you’d said you were staying.”

Steve knows that, which is why they never talked about it much before he left. Tony pretended to be happy for him, and Steve pretended to be happy for himself, when really it already felt like the beginning of the end. A year apart is longer than it seems, and it didn’t take more than a few months to realize it.

“I never…” Steve starts, trailing off when he doesn’t quite know how to finish the sentence. “There was never anyone else. Not while we were together, and never with Peggy.”

“I know. I knew back then, too, that you were never that kind of person. Jealousy’s just a real bitch sometimes.”

“There’s really not been anyone since, either,” Steve adds, and Tony’s mouth quirks into a half smile. “I mean, a couple of people here and there, but nothing like what we were.”

“There’s not a whole lot out there like what we were, is there?”

Steve smiles, leaning back in his chair, “No, there’s really not. But I do remember reading a rumor that you got engaged.”

Tony groans, and it’s so much like he used to sound when he was nine pages deep into a ten page essay at three in the morning that Steve has to laugh.

“Don’t you dare laugh. That rumor haunts me, Steven,” Tony says, belied by a grin that he seemingly can’t control. “Do you know how I found out about my supposed engagement? When my mother called and asked why I hadn’t told her I was planning on proposing.”

“So I’m still the only person you’ve ever proposed to,” Steve teases, just for the way he knows Tony will get indignant about it.

“How many times do I have to tell you that one didn’t count?”

“You were on one knee, you asked a question, and you had a ring. All the boxes are checked, sweetheart.”

“It was a blue raspberry ring pop, and you ate it,” Tony argues. “Not to mention that I actually asked you to marry me someday in the distant future. That’s not a proposal.”

Steve laughs again, thinking about that day in the middle of their living room, just a few weeks before Steve got the call that would take him to London and change everything. It was almost like a joke, and for anyone else it would have been. Not for them, though, because Steve remembers the look in Tony’s eyes when he dropped down in front of him, spur of the moment and impulsive like almost everything was back then. He remembers how it still felt like a promise, even if it wasn’t the real thing.

“But I said yes, which I think technically means we’re still engaged.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony scoffs. “It’s going to be a production when we get engaged. Elaborate and planned and romantic as hell.”

“When, huh?” Steve grins.

Tony’s cheeks pinken a touch, but he doesn’t take it back. He reaches for Steve’s hand on the table. “Yeah, when. Is that alright with you?”

Steve threads their fingers together, holding on tight. “That’s alright with me.”

[slytherweasley]

Cam girl (George Weasley x reader)

Warnings: Smut and swearing

Summary: George logs onto his computer every week at the same time to watch his favourite cam girl because she reminds him of a girl he used to have a crush on at Hogwarts. One day he decides to pay to private message her and she responds.

George logs onto his computer at 10pm, the same time every Monday, Tuesday and Friday. Today’s Friday, the last day of the week until he has to wait until Monday. For the past month George has been watching a cam girl, she goes by Honey but that’s not her name. The thing that excites George about it all is that she’s anonymous, no one knows what she looks like under the mask.

You setup your computer so the webcam can get everything, you find all the toys you want to use and line them up. You put on your mask and watch the time as it hits 10pm and press stream. The viewers get transferred to your livestream. People assume everyone there is old men but you’ve seen pictures in private messages and some of them are quite good looking. Your job isn’t all sex, for the first 10 minutes you have conversations with the viewers and sometimes people just want to private message you to have some company.

George has never typed anything in the chat before because he’s too nervous too, he doesn’t know what to say. He watches you as you sit on the bed and answer comments from the live chat. He originally clicked on your stream because you reminded him of a girl he used to have a crush on at Hogwarts. She was in Hufflepuff and he had said only a few words to her but he knew so much about her.

You stop answering questions when you check the time and get ready. You ease into it by touching yourself over your lingerie. George tries to stop himself from touching himself so early in the show but the way you moan and mutter dirty things makes his mind go insane. You start to strip first revealing your breasts and you see the chat comments speed up as more new comments roll in and more viewers tune in. You get an average of 5-25k views, it all depends on the day.

You strip until you’re fully naked and lay down spreading your legs out. You use your fingers to spread your pussy open and tease your clit. George starts to palm himself through his pants. You get out a pink dildo, the men prefer 6-8 inches and bright coloured so you tend to use them but you have a large collection. You get closer to the webcam and lick up the dildo putting it in your mouth and making it wet.

You put it inside you once you’re satisfied with how long you’d been deepthroating it. George pulls his pants and boxers down and touches himself right away, wasting no time. He usually cums twice, it doesn’t take too long for him to get hard after once because he watches the whole show.

You liked doing the show because it is a way to let out all your stress and you have a desirable body that thousands of people want to see and you get generous donations during the livestream and to pay to private message you. You stay up for a few hours after your stream to talk to people because the more you talk the more they spend money on you.

Once you’d cum a few times and filled up the time you end the stream by reminding people about private messages, $5 to talk the whole night. George felt an urge to message you but he decided not tonight, he had to go to work the next day and help Fred with the shop. He took a shower and couldn’t stop thinking about you, he got ready for bed and closed his eyes and realised he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t attempt to message you. It was a couple hours after your show had ended and he decided to message you. You probably get hundreds of messages a night.

Ha pays the money to send a message he types in something simple “Hi, I watch your shows every night” he presses send and waits a bit doing other things, the notification pops up on the corner of his screen and he sees you answered. “Thank you, it means a lot, we haven’t spoken before, have we?” it was polite but George was thrilled you actually answered. He immediately types back “No we haven’t but I’ve been watching for a month now, I never got the courage to even send a live chat until now.”

George stayed up for hours talking to you. You signed off for the night to all the other men in your chats just to talk to him. He seemed like one of the guys who was nice and you were both the same age, he’s 25 as well but you don’t give out your age or actual name. You could pass for younger or older. Every night even when shows weren’t on you’d talk, the more detail you knew about him and the more sexual the conversations were the more you liked him. You’d stay up extra late to talk to him and you found yourself realising you’re getting attached and giving him false hope that you’d meet up one day.

“What’s your real name?” He asks “I can’t tell you, it’s apart of the mystery, besides you haven’t told me your name yet” “I understand and I do prefer not knowing, my name is George just so you know.” Your heart skips a beat and you feel as though you’d been transported back to Hogwarts, you had a huge crush on George Weasley, you didn’t know him well but you fancied him and your friends knew, you had common friends but never became friends. You used to be so shy and that is the one thing you wish you got over sooner so you could become friends with George. As far as you know he’s been doing very well for himself at Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes. You always thought about going in there but thinking about how shy you were makes you feel insecure and shy.

“I love that name, I used to know someone with that name, he was a great person, just like you” you reply “I’ll admit I’m so surprised you’ve been talking to me everyday for a week” “I’ve grown to like you, George.”After talking for another week you couldn’t get him off your mind and you knew that you were in too far.

“I don’t want you to keep paying every night, here’s my number. I trust you enough.” George just assumed you talked to everyone the same as him but you seemed to like him. He saves the number in his phone under Honey.

As the weeks went by, you were talking more than just at night. You became friends and you started to hate that George was calling you Honey. “I wish I could talk to you in person” he types “Why don’t we do it then?” “In person?” “Lets meet up, we can hook up at my place if you’re comfortable” you couldn’t believe you were doing this. “Are you sure? Neither of us know much about each other’s physical appearance, you don’t even know what I look like.” “I don’t care, I’ve fallen for you and we should meet up.” You send him an address to meet up a couple blocks from your house just in case he isn’t as sweet on the internet.

You get there early and stand on the busy street, each man that goes by you get hopeful until you see him, George Weasley standing there looking around for someone. In a matter of seconds everything clicks in your head, you’ve been talking to George Weasley, no wonder you were so in love with this guy you’d just met online. You apparate out of there before he sees you. You get into your apartment and send him a text “I’m so sorry George, I just threw up and I’m not in the mood to see anyone, I hope you know I’m not an asshole.” He texts back almost immediately “I get it, don’t feel bad we can reschedule” “Thank you for understanding.”

The next couple days you ignored his messages and he even tried to contact you on live chat but you wouldn’t message back. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t what you expected, I think I got the message” George knew it seemed weird she would text right as they were supposed to meet, she definitely saw him and ran. Your heart breaks and you feel obligated to message “Are you free right now?” You text back “Why?” “Let’s meet up, same spot and I promise I’ll be there to explain everything” “I’ll be there soon.”

You use magic to clean up your house just in case he isn’t grossed out by you and does want to come back to hook up. You apparate and see he is already there waiting, he seems shocked that you apparated “Honey?” He asks trying to get closer to see your face in the dark. You take a deep breath and get closer to him so he can see your face “Y/n?” “Hi George” “Did you know?” “No, I had no idea until I saw you and got scared so I apparated home.” “What do you think?” “I could ask the same” “I asked you first” “I’ve always fancied you, since about fourth year but I didn’t know you so I didn’t say anything.” “We knew each other just weren’t close” “So what do you think?” “I’ve fancied you since fifth year so I’m happy, I’m shocked though, you were so shy.” “I’m a different person to what I used to be” “I can tell” “So what do you want to do?” “Love, this makes this so much better, let’s go to yours.”

You take his hand and apparate him into your apartment. You help take off his coat and lead him to your bedroom. “Wow, this looks so much cooler in person” “It’s probably because you’ve only seen one wall of the room.” He walks around “Do you want to see the toys?” He nods and you open up a few drawers full of them. “Wow, that’s a lot, do you ever use magic?” “Sometimes if I’m tired of doing it myself but never on camera.”

You make the first move and kiss George, his lips are cold but your warm lips pressed to his feels nice. “Can I undress you?” “Of course, just promise me you won’t treat me differently now you know I’m me” “No way, I get to fuck you on the bed I’ve seen for months, I’m not going to treat you any differently than how I told you I would.” You smile and bite your lip trying to hide your excitement as he discards your clothes.

“You’re just as beautiful in real life” he kisses down your neck to your breasts and sucks on one of your nipples and you let out a whimper, he kisses down your body and hovers above your pussy. “Please George” you moan, he licks from your core up to your clit. He fingers you with two fingers first before sucking on your clit and curling his fingers inside you. Your fingers grasp his soft hair and pull on it while the other grips the side of the bed,

“George! I’m going to cum” you yell and he pounds his fingers into you “Fuck” he pulls his fingers out of you and licks them off. He takes off his shirt and unbuttons his pants while you’re recovering from your high. “I’m ready, I need your cock in me, George” you palm him through his pants and slide a hand into his boxers, jerking him off. He pulls them down “Lay down” you do as he says while he strokes himself a few times before lining himself up with your core.

He slides himself in and groans at the feeling “Fuck” he moans and slowly picks up the pace until he gets used to the feeling. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/n” he pounds himself into you, you feel yourself sink into the mattress with every stroke. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a loud moan. “So fucking hot” You grip onto his bicep and look into his eyes when you are about to cum. Without saying anything he already knows “Come on, you’re so close” he rubs your clit with his other hand and you finish around him. “Holy shit, feels so good, you’re throbbing on my cock” you feel him finish and he lays beside you.

You lay your head on his chest “Thank you” he says “No, thank you, that was great” “I know you don’t do this for everyone so thanks and if you you did like it and want me to come around again I’ll be happy to.” You kiss his lips “George I want to see you again, a lot more often but also do other things like go to dinner or something.” You wait to see what he will say hoping he will agree. “Are you asking me on a date?” “No im asking you to be my boyfriend” “Really?” He sounds surprised “You don’t have to say yes I was just saying I’d like that” “Yes.”

George was fine with you doing your job, your shoes ever night and private messaging other guys because he knew that’s what you had to do to earn money. If he couldn’t be at your apartment one night he’d just watch your livestream.

[punkyflesh]

I love your fanfiction so much.. actually because of it I watched sofia the first couple of days ago and Cedric is so 😳😳 i just want to hug him and say that everything will be fine... speaking of the request for a story could you please write about how a completely-non-believing-in-magic s/o gets into their world (portal?? spell??) and they with a cedric look at each other like on mice for experiments until they slowly fall in love /i used google translate so sorry for mistakes/

AAAAA that literally made my day when i first saw it, i'm honoured to have encouraged you to watch the show & i'm glad you enjoyed it!

i’m going to make a part two for this fiction as it’ll be very long otherwise

don't apologise for the mistakes - as far as i'm aware, you're asking for the reader to be transported to enchancia who doesn't believe in magic, and cedric sees this as a good opportunity to use them for experiments blah blah love. let me know if i'm wrong about that, but enjoy!

TW: strong language used (swearing)

cedric x reader who doesn't believe in magic | oneshot - part one

"I'm just not convinced that this 'spell' of yours is going to work. You know I don't believe in that sort of crap." You said, shaking your head and folding your arms sternly. Your best friend had been trying to persuade you to try out a new teleportation spell they'd found online for many weeks now - according to the website, the spell would teleport you to a kingdom of magical opportunities and unique people - you simply did not believe the bullshit that came from a domain with a warning on the page.

It had taken a few weeks in order to gather all the equipment needed, and it amused you that your best friend was so easily swayed. You on the other hand? Well, let's just say you were only playing along to prove yourself right. As your friend finished up the alignment in which the equipment was supposed to be, they gestured for you to stand in the centre whilst they got the torn-up paper with the 'magic words' scribbled on messily. With a huff, you hesitantly stepped into the circle that had weird letters around it, glitter from the local craft place in town, and burning sage. "Alright! Are you ready to be transported to a place beyond your wildest dreams?!" Your friend exclaimed, holding onto the piece of paper excitedly and jumping up and down. Although you didn't believe that it was going to work, seeing your friend so excited ignited a sense of warmness in your heart. With a small smile, you nodded.

From then on, your hearing began to turn hazy. You could briefly hear the chanting of your friend, reading from the scrawny piece of paper, but could also hear a new ringing that was getting increasingly louder. You tried to shout out, tried to get your friend to stop and explain how you suddenly thought that this was a bad idea, but you could not hear any words escaping from your mouth. Your stomach began to churn as a bright, white light made you squint. You felt as though you were falling through a lifeless void before you hit a hard surface, your eyes still tightly sealed shut.

What the hell was that? You opened your eyes slowly to find that you were in fact laying down as if you had just got thrown against the surface of something hard. Your body felt numb. On the floor below you, you realised that you were laying upon a red carpet - you don't recall owning one, but then soon saw that the carpet was the length as one of the red carpets you'd see at a movie premiere. Using all your strength to lift up your head enough to support itself, you gazed down what seemed to be a long hallway with intricate designs and paintings decorating the walls. The ceiling was high. You couldn't tell if you were still tripping out or if this was reality but managed to gain more strength to push yourself up even further, looking around your surroundings and taking in the change of scenary. This definitely was not the dingy basement you were in 5 minutes ago. This was something a lot more elegant, posh - almost like the interior of a castle.

All of a sudden, the area you were sitting in was overcast by a shadow, a silhouette of someone. You turned your head expecting to see your friend, but instead saw the long legs of someone unfamiliar to you. They were quite tall and was wearing a long, plum-coloured robe that was tied into a neat knot above their abdomen. You gulped unconsciously and continued to raise your head until you saw the figure fully. They were looming over you, folding their arms into the sleeves of their robe and raising their eyebrow. The look on his face looked stern, but not confused or angry - more of a resting face. The figure had quite noticeable eye bags underneath his hazel eyes and a unique colouration to his hair - he had silvery-white bangs that heavily contrasted the darkness of his natural shade.

You found yourself staring at this odd hair colour before you heard him clear his throat, snapping you out of your trance and jumping slightly. "I uh.." You began, trying to pull yourself to your feet but achieving nothing in the process. The teleportation - or whatever nonsense had just happened, you were too confused to think about it - had obviously left you quite weak. "No need to explain. I'm already aware of your circumstances." The man spoke, cutting you off from what you were trying to explain. You stopped and gave the man a confused look - what did he mean he already knew the circumstances? If you were teleported...was he already aware of that? Hesitantly, you saw him offer you a hand. "It seems as though you've had quite a fall. Here." You looked to his hand - he was wearing black, fingerless gloves that were well fit against his slender fingers - and snuffled a laugh. A bold fashion choice.

Questioningly, you took the mans hand and he pulled you up onto your feet until you were able to look him in the eyes. Finally being able to share the same gaze as him set off a sudden spark in your body that ran from your heart to the hand in which was still interlocked with his own. You felt your heart begin to pound in your chest as you held onto him, not being able to take your eyes away. The same eyes that were looking down at you coldly seemed a lot softer now, gentle even. It was as if the whole world stopped. The figure stared at you for a moment longer, before clearing his throat for the second time and turning his head away, retracting his hand from yours and then offering you a small smile. “You must be my new apprentice. Marvellous to finally meet you.”

“I’m sorry, apprentice?” You questioned, your voice raspy and small. What did he mean apprentice? Apprentice for what? He raised his eyebrow at you once more and stifled a laugh. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

“I’m sorry, but you must be confused. I don’t even know who you are.”

The man looked taken back from your words, judging by the way his face transformed, you seemed to have offended him slightly. “Excuse me? I am Cedric the Sensational! Royal sorcerer of the Kingdom of Enchancia! I’ve saved a few people before and…”

Listening to the man drain on about his successes, you laughed, this time not holding it back. Your laugh caused him to stop talking and stare at you, as you shook your head and brushed off your clothes. “Sorcerer? Sorry pal, but I don’t believe in magic. Try fooling someone else with that story, because it sure ain’t gonna be me.”

Cedric listened to you as you laughed, freezing as he processed. You didn’t believe in magic, yet you had randomly appeared in the middle of the castle, dressed in clothes that’ll surely take you to the dungeon out of the blue? It just didn’t make any sense - unless…

He smirked. It had worked, his spell that he had sent out had actually worked! It was time for him to use this to his own advantage.

He was gonna have fun with his new little experiment.